#i wish you nothing but happiness and hopefully a brighter future ahead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

giftofwonder · 2 years

Text

Psychosis - Part 5 (Dabi/Hawks/Bakugou x f!Reader)

A/N: I just want to say thank you for reading and your feedback. It is always appreciated. A huge thank you for being my beta reader and happy birthday to @iiashleysykes. I hope you all enjoy, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Masturbation, cursing.

Tag List: @sylum @iiashleysykes @bebetiny @valentinesnightmares1

You sat with Dabi until his uneven shallow breaths became full and steady. His body was warm and heavy against your side as he allowed himself to remain nestled into you. His arms were still loosely wound around your waist, head still tucked in the crook of your neck to lay atop your shoulder.

You felt something akin to guilt, knowing you’d have to remove yourself from him and go back to the group, but you would stay until you were confident he no longer needed you there.

“Do you want to lay down, maybe get some rest?” You asked, speaking in a soft tone. He sighed deeply, heated breath dancing across your skin.

“It’s too early for sleep.” He said, and you could feel his lips faintly brushing against your neck as he spoke. You closed your eyes, ignoring the sensation that it sparked in you, and gently pulled yourself out of his grasp to look at him.

“You don’t have to sleep, but I figured maybe you’d like to just relax rather than going back to the group session.” You explained, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.

His eyes roamed across your face, as if he was searching for something, before he gave a nod and sat back, removing himself fully from you. His expression was indifferent, void of any trace of emotion. It was familiar but haunting, seeing someone look so hollow. It filled you with a deep sense of sadness, and you wished you had the words to fill him with something brighter, something more joyous and fulfilling. You knew though that there was nothing you could say to the man to change him, that would have to come from himself in time, but you looked forward to the day you would hopefully see it.

“I have to go back now, will you be okay?” You asked, giving his shoulder a nudge with your own. He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his vibrant eyes, and patted your leg before letting his hand rest on your knee.

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. Go on and head back, doll. Don’t worry about me.” He said.

“Okay, but if you need me, press the call button. I’ll come right back, I promise.” You said in earnest, placing your hand over his as you locked eyes.

“You make a lot of promises, doc.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“And I intent to keep every one of them.”

______________

You entered the community room once more to find Aizawa seated in the same place, and Jin and Toga hugging. They were whispering to each other, both letting out mixes of cries and laughter. You walked over, taking a seat in the chair to Aizawa’s side.

“How is he?” He asked, glancing away from the pair ahead to look over at you.

“Better now. I’ll fill you in later with the details, did I miss anything here?” You asked.

“No, not much. They’ve both had open communication and Jin seems like he’s been using his own coping skills to help Toga process this upcoming change. I think it would be good to allow them to interact as they have in the future.” He informed you.

“I agree, I was thinking the same in regards to Dabi. They have what appears to be a close bond, and they had a really good interaction earlier. I know he’s feeling a bit betrayed right now, but I think Jin is a really strong piece of the puzzle for his healing. He needs bonds with other people, to have friends.” You said, and Aizawa nodded.

“We’ll talk about this more later. Perhaps we could get lunch and go over everything while it’s still fresh, and then we can see about speaking with Enji for arranging joint-level sessions.” Aizawa gave you a small smile. You were glad he was open to the idea and on the same wavelength as you.

“Jin, are you ready?” Aizawa said, pushing himself to stand. Jin released Toga, giving a shaky breath as he nodded.

“Please escort Jin down, Midoriya should be expecting him and will meet you there. I’m going to have a quick one-on-one with Toga and take her back to her room.” Aizawa said, handing off his chart to you. You accepted it and turned to Jin, offering your arm before leading him out the door.

________________

Dr. Mic and Midoriya were already there waiting for you when the elevator doors opened. After quick introductions and handing off his forms, Mic had led Jin off to his new room, leaving you and Midoriya behind.

You both caught each other up quickly, making small talk as you walked over to the Level’s main desk. Midoriya riffled through paperwork and schedules, searching for something, when a notebook toppled to the floor. You picked it up, noticing the writing inside.

“Wow, this is very detailed.” You commented flipping through the book briefly before handing it back to him. He snatched it quickly, his face erupting in shades of pink.

“Sorry, I know it’s…a lot.” He sputtered awkwardly, turning to shove the book back under a stack of papers.

“No, don’t apologize! I think it’s impressive. Understanding your patients is a huge part of helping them, having those in depth notes shows your dedication to your work.” You said, hoping to ease his nerves.

“Thanks, I think you’re probably one of the only few to see it that way, though. I’ve been told on more than one occasion that it’s unnecessary, which I know the patient notes are recorded in the system, but there’s a lot of little details that don’t get put in. Kurogiri likes his coffee black and he has it every day at 7:45am because that’s what time everyone else usually starts getting up and he always wants to make sure there’s a fresh pot out for them. Aoyama steals cheese from the cafeteria, always taking a few blocks to pass out as thank you’s to the other patients, and sometimes to gamble with, weirdly enough. Mr Comp-“ Midoriya stopped mid sentence, the action looking like it physically pained him.

“Sorry, I’m rambling.” He muttered, scratching his head.

“No, really. I think it’s amazing. I can tell you love your job. I’m sure the patients are glad to know you genuinely care for them.” You smiled.

“I learned from the best. My mentor, the previous director, was an amazing man. He loved the patients, wanted to save them all. I remember when I first started and I was terrified, everything was so overwhelming. I had been worried that I’d never get it right, I was always screwing up simple tasks, always in someone’s way. He ended up having an interest in me, taking me under his wing. I learned a lot from him, and I’ll always be grateful for his help.” Midoriya had a far off look as he spoke, a dreamy daze to his eyes as he recalled the past.

“What happened to him?” You asked, not wanting to pry, but also curious about where he was now.

“Due to an unfortunate circumstance, he had to retire early. It was unexpected, and then Director Enji took over. I don’t really know him that well myself, I think he’s doing okay though. I know some people don’t have the most positive view of him, but I think he just had such large shoes to fill. Change is always difficult around here, but I think he’s doing everything he can to keep things going smoothly.” Midoriya finished with a smile.

You found his optimism refreshing, you could feel his love for the patients and the asylum as he spoke. Everyone was working hard, and in a place that demands so much of your time and energy, it was easy to be pulled into pessimism. You found it admirable that he found the strength to be a light in this place, and you knew he was a person that could provide sanctuary for others when it was needed.

“Do you think one day, you’d enjoy becoming the director yourself?” You asked him, and he looked at you thoughtfully before giving you a warm smile.

“Yeah, I think I would.”

____________________

You headed down to Level One, hoping to grab a snack from the cafeteria. Since it was between meals, the kitchens staff was currently out, leaving you to search through the refrigerators. Once you entered the back, you found Hawks mopping the floors with half a sandwich hanging out of his mouth.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, his head whipped over to you and you watched his shoulders visibly relax. He set his mop back in the bucket before removing the food from his mouth.

“Hey, glad it’s you! For a second I thought the director was about to catch me eating on the job.” He laughed, running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. It’s what I came here for, too.” You laughed, opening the cooler and pulling out a prepackaged sandwich of your own. You walked over to the long stainless steel counter and hopped onto a stool. Hawks was quick to walk over and join you.

“So how’s it going?” You asked, opening up your container.

“Oh you know, just another exciting day. Got to start off my morning with someone breaking one of the toilets, which is always a good time. Now I’m here, stealing food while no one is looking.” He shrugged.

“That’s a rough morning, I think you’ve earned the snack.” You laughed, and he chuckled along with you.

“I’m glad someone around here gets me. Hey, you want a drink or anything?” He asked, getting up and walking over to the beverage cooler.

“I’ll take a water, if you don’t mind.” You smiled.

“Coming right up!” He said, digging around before returning over to his seat. He sat the bottled water in front of you, as well as a little ice cream cup.

“I found the stash they keep hidden behind the tomato juice. Don’t tell anyone about it though, it’s my personal goldmine.” He whispered, tossing you a wink.

“You’re a man of many secrets, it seems.” You laughed, taking another bite.

“It’s just part of my charm. I’ve gotta keep the mystery alive somehow.” He grinned.

“Oh, are you going to the staff Halloween party? They just gave me the invite for it the other day.” You asked, leaning forward to place your elbows on the cool metal of the table. His face visibly shifted to one of discomfort.

“No, I wouldn’t count on it. But dang, I can’t believe it’s already that time of year again.” He said with a laugh.

“I know, I can’t believe it either. Seems like time just keeps ticking by.” You said with a hum, and his face glossed over with a sadness you couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah, seems like it does.” He said.

___________________

You had left from your chat with Hawks, returning back to work on Level Three. The hours seemed to bleed together, the day passing by in a blur. Bakugou had went home early, and you had been running back and forth like a mad woman. You wondered how Bakugou had managed to stay on top of everything before you had joined the team. It gave you a lot more appreciation for him, and an insight to how hard he worked.

You took a breather, leaning an arm against the main desk as you wiped the sweat from your brow onto your sleeve.

“Excuse me, I’ve got Mirio and Amajiki coming to do rounds with the patients. I thought maybe you’d like to grab lunch and discuss the events from earlier.” Aizawa spoke as he turned the corner. You stood up straight, brushing yourself off before nodding.

He led you down and out to his car, offering to drive, which you had gladly accepted. The ride itself was fairly quiet, though you appreciated his efforts in making small talk. You knew it was difficult to have any conversations that didn’t pertain to work, the two of you lacked a bond. You didn’t know much about each other, so when you removed yourself from the atmosphere of the asylum, you were left with a lot of silence.

You arrived at what looked like a small mom-and-pop restaurant. You both climbed out of the vehicle, doing a light jog through misty rain until you reached the entrance. Aizawa reached it first, holding open the door for you and ushering you inside. You were quickly shown to a table and given your menus, looking them over briefly before Aizawa spoke.

“So, what happened with Dabi?” He asked bluntly.

“After we left, he was pretty worked up. I got him back to his room and he was quick to try and alleviate his stress with minor self-injury. He also made a comment about his appearance, referencing his scar, so I think figuring out what caused them could be a big step toward helping him. I think he harbors a lot of negativity towards those.” You said, and Aizawa nodded thoughtfully.

“I got him sat on the bed, trying to help him calm himself. He seemed to just break down, soft of collapsing into my arms. I stayed with him until he relaxed, and then he spoke about his abandonment. It wasn’t very detailed or specific, more just that those who hold significance in his life end up leaving.” You explained.

“I see, that makes sense. I am not aware of much regarding his backstory, but I know that he got his first criminal charge while he was still very young. In my experience, that usually stems from their early environment. If his home life was traumatic, it could easily have been a factor that pushed him into the streets, as well as cause him to have some abandonment and repressed anger. I am glad that he has found comfort in you though, it is my deepest wish to see these people heal and one day leave our care.” Aizawa said, and you understood his sentiment completely.

While the asylum held these patients, and you were tasked with helping them, your end goal was to never see them again. To have them make changes and turn their life around so that they can go back into their lives with a fresh start. You yourself wanted Dabi to improve, to be able to help him recover and move forward.

“Did you at any time feel you were at risk?” Aizawa asked suddenly, eyes locking onto yours.

“No. I don’t think he’s violent, or at least, he doesn’t have aggression towards me. There were no threats or actions that really seemed to cross those types of lines. My concern was more that he would possibly hurt himself.” You said, taking a sip of the drink that the waiter brought over.

“That’s good. I can’t say for certain about his temperament, as based on his criminal history and interactions with some of the staff it would lead me to believe there are some definite triggers there, however, as long as he doesn’t act on them it will be a lot easier to get him moved down to Level Two. While I know he has had his shortcomings, I don’t see him being quite on the same level as Toga and Shigaraki. He seems like he will be able to make progress and be more open to working on himself now that you have arrived.” Aizawa said.

“So why is he on Level Three? If his outbursts and temperament are what they are, shouldn’t we try and move him down so that he can adjust better?” You asked, confusion apparent.

“Unfortunately, that one isn’t my call. I can push for it, but the choice is ultimately up to Director Enji.” Aizawa said, a bitter tone biting at his words.

While you were curious about Enji and the way the staff felt about him, especially after your conversation with Midoriya, you didn’t feel like right now was the time to pry into his management style, aside from the relevant question you had been waiting the better half of the day to ask.

“Do you think he’ll approve the mixed level sessions?” You asked, tone hopeful. Aizawa hummed, tilting his head to place his cheek on his knuckles as he seemed to roll over his thoughts.

“It’s possible. Enji has always been a hard one to read. My hopes are he will see that the benefits outweigh the risks. I know he has a lot of concern surrounding patient conflict. He feels it reflects poorly on him when patients act out, and so he has a very traditional approach. However, I have learned that there are ways to…sway his opinion.” Aizawa said quietly.

You had watched his demeanor change as he spoke about the current director. The way his eyes became firm and jaw tensed. You knew the man before you was exceptional in his field and had a deep sense of caring for his patients. You wondered if the disconnect the staff felt with the Director was tied to that.

“Would the previous Director have allowed it?” You asked before you could stop yourself. Aizawa blinked at you in surprise, before his expression turned solemn.

“Toshinori? Yes, I think without a shadow of a doubt. In fact, he probably would be the one to suggest it.” Aizawa told you.

“From what I’ve heard, he sounds like he was a good man.” You told him. Aizawa gave you a pained smile.

“Yes, he was a great man. Perhaps the best.”

_________________

You awoke the next morning much earlier than planned, dragging your tired body from bed and throwing on clothes before heading out the door. You drove to work, taking in the darkened city and letting the purple hues relax your groggy mind.

When you arrived, you sluggishly made your way to the staff room, debating on taking a shower. You knew you’d be working up a sweat this morning, but figured it would be easier to get it out of the way now and just rinse off quickly afterwards.

You undressed, placing your clothes in one of the few lockers lining the wall, before entering one of the shower stalls and pulling the curtain closed behind you. The warm water felt like a much needed hug as it poured over your tired body. For a while, you just stood there, letting your mind wander. You had enjoyed your lunch with Aizawa, but thoughts of meeting with the director were adding to your stress. While you hoped for the best, you couldn’t bet on everything working out. If this idea was met with backlash, it was your patients who would suffer because of it.

You knew it was your job to advocate for them and make sure their needs were met, even if it perhaps was not the traditional method. You also knew you needed to find out why Dabi was even placed on Level Three to start with. Was it just because he refused to work with them? You doubted that. You felt like there was something more beyond the information you had been given, something impacting his case at the asylum, and you didn’t like that. Not having everything disclosed to you not only impacted your treating him, but it also put you at risk. If he truly was dangerous and in need of being on Level Three, you didn’t know what to watch for, and if it was a misunderstanding you couldn’t treat him with suspicion as you’d jeopardize his trust in you as his doctor by disengaging from him. The thoughts kept swirling around your clouded mind, feeling overwhelming. You leaned your forehead against the wall and sighed.

You shut off the water when you finished bathing, but remained motionless, just standing there and letting the cool air touch your dampened skin. You grabbed your towel to dry off, but before you could exit the stall, you heard the door slam open followed by thudding footsteps. Your heartbeat quickened its pace at the aggressive sound of lockers being opened and shut. You heard Bakugou cursing as the sound of fabric rustling filled the room. A second later, the shower next to yours turned on and it was silent for a moment, save for the water running. You reached out to grab the curtain, preparing to go and get dressed, when the sound of soft grunts halted you.

His breathy moans were small, ricochetting off the ceramic walls and filling your ears. You knew you should leave, allow him to have his private moment, but still you stepped away from the curtain, leaning your back against the cool tile behind you.

You imagined Bakugou, hand splayed on the wall before him as he hunched over, hot water cascading over him as he stroked himself. You bit your lip as you felt your own arousal respond. You hated it, hated the way it called to you, like you didn’t have any self control, but for the moment you allowed yourself to just be. You knew you would be rattled with guilt later, but you were frozen in place, hypnotized by a sirens call.

Your towel fell open as your hand brushed against your own body, wondering if having some kind of release could help to soothe your own nerves. The notion of it filled you with disgust and excitement simultaneously. The weight of your own loneliness settled over you, and you felt your will weaken.

Your hand dipped between your legs as his grunts grew louder and more drawn out. Your eyes fell shut of their own accord, staring into blackness as you let yourself feel, imagining you were somewhere else, someone else’s hands caressing your sensitive skin.

You heard wet skin slap against the tile, and you could see him in your mind, his back hitting the wall you leaned against. Him standing with his head leaned back, his eyes closed as his face looked toward the ceiling, small rivers of water leaving their trail in every crease and contour of his body. You could see his lips part as he panted, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he pumped himself.

He let out a strangled sound, followed by a low groan, before the room settled into silence. The water shut off abruptly and you stilled all movements as the curtain was thrown open. You heard him leave from the stall. The sound of shuffling and a bag being tossed around let you know he was dressed, and then you heard the door to the bathroom fall shut.

You didn’t move immediately, the dull ache in you was relentless, a torture you’d probably have to endure for the rest of the day. Finally, you sighed, wrapping the towel fully around you and stepping out to head to the locker.

________________

Your morning passed by like a hazy dream. You had found yourself avoiding Bakugou, embarrassment flooding you each time he met your gaze to the point you were unable to look at him. Now that the moment had passed, it left you feeling more than a little awkward. You had been too invasive, eavesdropping on a coworkers vulnerable moment, and the shame was eating at you.

You kept yourself busy, sitting on the floor in the supply room as you gathered up the dirty laundry into baskets. You tried to bury the memory of the morning, forget it completely, but the harder you tried to push it out the more vivid it became.

You groaned, leaning your head against the metal cart at your side as you tried to come to terms with your own perversion, debating on what to do. Your morals begged you to come clean, but you knew that truly wouldn’t rectify the situation. If anything, it would make it worse. Still, there was a part of you that cast the blame on him for even having the gull to do that at work, but you couldn’t criticize him too harshly. You understood it enough to reason that when you spent most of your time working, you did give up pieces of your social life and soon professional and personal time could merge together.

It was a stressful job, you couldn’t hold it against someone for their actions when you knew first hand how much of yourself you were required to give to keep everything running smoothly. His blame was minimal, you figured. There were plenty of moments for you to make a different choice, but you had been the one to stay. To listen and let yourself get absorbed into it. You knew deep down, there was probably no difference between both of your reasoning in actions. Him pleasuring himself at work and you waiting idly to overhear it, you were both lacking in anything substantial, both stressed and tired, both consumed by the insanity of the asylum and all that came with the job.

“I’ll just take it to the grave then, I guess.” You said with a shrug.

“Take what to the grave?” Bakugou’s gruff voice called out from behind. You felt your heartbeat stutter as he spoke, halfway jumping out of your skin.

“Oh, no nothing. Just was thinking about some stuff. Not work related.” You waved him off, giving a strained laugh. His eyes narrowed into slits as he regarded you with suspicion.

“You’re being real fucking weird today, but whatever. Get ready. It’s time for the stupid fitness program.” He chided, turning on his heel to leave.

________________

You stepped into the courtyard, patients following, as Bakugou kept an eye out from the back of the line. You all walked out to where Kirishima waited, a few mats placed in the grass.

You had been shocked they had allowed everyone out at the same time, especially Shigaraki. Aizawa had given the order, saying it was important that they all had the chance to get out and move around, and would increase security as needed in order to make sure everyone could safely get time in the fitness program since Kirishima’s schedule had been rather full. You also noticed he had called for Jin to come out with Level Three, which Aizawa had told you he was debating on doing.

His plan was to have Jin involved and the group as a whole improve to hold weight in our meeting to push for allowing the blending of levels. You thought it was a good idea, though you weren’t sure if the director would necessarily feel the same. Aizawa had been sure to warn you that he hadn’t gotten approval first, he was making a decision and would just ask for forgiveness later, though his hope was everything would run smoothly enough that it didn’t warrant a complaint.

Shigaraki was placed at the mat in front of Kirishima. His restraints were taken off and he rubbed his chapped wrists, the red and splotchy irritation was a stark contrast to his pale skin. He looked around, before facing forward silently. There was more staff present, faces unfamiliar to you, who stood around him and observed. They were there as a control mainly for him and Toga, who was placed on the mat directly to his right.

You had taken the mat laid out in the back row, and Dabi was quick to claim the one laying to your left. Bakugou took his place in the center row between Dabi and Shigaraki, you assume just to have additional separation between patients, while Jin stood ahead of you, putting a larger distance between you and Toga which you silently thanked him for. While there was a part of you that was excited to burn off some lingering tension and distract your mind, it was obvious not everyone felt the same. Disgruntled expressions and mumbling resounded quietly around you.

Kirishima hit play on his stereo and relaxing music rang out through the air. He informed you that you’d be starting with Yoga and requested everyone have their mats sideways, so that you’d have to look to the sideways to see the poses he gave at the front of the group. You all did as you were asked, though some were in no rush to comply. You nodded to your left at Jin, who was now beside you, and waiting for Kirishima’s instruction.

He started off with simple positions, the tree and the eagle pose, to name a few. You felt your muscles stretch pleasantly as you went and sighed at the feeling, breathing deeply as you moved. Kirishima had you all kneel on the mat, getting on your hands and knees. He demonstrated the cat pose, his back arching high, shoulders sloping inward, and you followed along, feeling your joints pop.

Next he called out the cow position, and you lifted your tailbone, you back bending down and you pushed your shoulders back. You held the pose for a moment before hearing Dabi speak.

“I think I like yoga.” He grinned, and you glanced over your shoulder to find his eyes locked onto your backside, before sliding up to hold your gaze.

“Quit fucking around.” Bakugou spat at him from his side, and you almost laughed as they glared at each other, but you simply turned back ahead ignoring both, until you heard the commotion come from up front.

Toga had pushed herself off the mat and made a mad dash toward the building. Bakugou and a few of the other staff were already on their feet and chasing after her.

Kirishima tried to steady everyone, telling them to keep going in hopes that not all focus would be lost. As you were the only remaining staff participating at the moment, you continued following his instruction, eyes darting across the courtyard as Toga danced around trying to avoid their grasp as if it were a game of tag.

It was a large distraction, and you noticed even Kirishima was struggling to stay focused. You felt warm hands on your hips, squeezing gently, before one hand slid up to your lower back, trailing along the curvature of your spine, forcing you to dip lower.

“I think you need to arch more.” Dabi whispered, and you could hear the laughter in his tone. His hands slipped up and held your waist securely as his thumbs pressed on either side of your spine.

“Go back to your mat!” You whispered, swatting at his hands and shooting him a flabbergasted look, earning you a cheeky smile from him.

The laughter quickly ended as Shigaraki gripped his head and began shouting. The suddenness of it surprised everyone, and soon Toga was restrained and brought back to the group while the remainder of the staff attended Shigaraki.

You saw Jin fix the man with a cold stare, before looking back to Toga who smiled and happily bounced over to him. Kirishima did a check in with Bakugou, who gripped Shigaraki’s arm and hauled the sickly man to his feet.

“The hell is your problem?” Bakugou snarled at Shigaraki, who’s face was distorted with rage. Shigaraki scratched at his neck before opening his mouth and screaming again while staring at Bakugou, before abruptly going silent.

“Alright, we’re going to switch up to some light cardio instead!” Kirishima called, trying to sound enthusiastic as he eyed the men beside him.

Shigaraki was calmed for only a moment before he began lashing out, directing his anger at Kirishima as he tried to run forward and claw at the man. Bakugou grabbed him and forcefully restrained him, putting his cuffs back in place.

Jin managed to keep Toga in line, her attention on him helping her focus on the various work outs that Kirishima tossed everyone’s way. Dabi, however, had issues frequently and you found yourself mostly at his side. His shirt would catch and pull on his staples, ripping them out, some of the motions pulled on his damaged skin too much, too harsh for his body to keep up with. His expression grew more grim, more frustrated as you went.

“Do you need to stop? If it’s hurting you, we can sit this one out.” You said, trying to calm him. You could see him grind his teeth.

“I’m fine, but can you put me down for a bath, doc? I’ve gotta clean off before I get some kind of fucking infection from all of this.” He glared at the dirt that had found its way onto his arms, the sweat on his undamaged skin sinking into the cracks between his staples.

“Yeah, we can do that. I have to have a meeting with the director after this and then I’ll come grab you. Does that sound okay?” You asked, noticing the way his body tensed at the mention of Enji.

“Yeah, that’ll work.” He said, his hand finding solace on your lower back, before moving to firmly grip your side. You almost shoo’d him off of you again, but his cold look gave you pause. It seemed his mind was elsewhere, and if you were his temporary security blanket, then that would have to do. You leaned into his hold, bumping your hip against his thigh.

“Come on, let’s go sit down and get a drink.” You offered, breaking him from his trance. He released you, giving a nod as you led him off to one of the tables near the door.

_____________

Once the patients were all settled back in their rooms, you quickly hit the shower, rinsing off before meeting with Aizawa to head down to the main office.

The two of you entered through the wooden door to the directors room, finding him absent. Ochako had popped her head in to tell you he was on his way now and to have a seat. The both of you complied, Aizawa going over his notes and using your moment alone to brief you on the meeting.

It didn’t take long before Enji entered, sitting in his chair and fixing your supervisor with a cold glare. He clasp his hands on the table, thumb turning a thick silver wedding band around his finger.

“What can I do for you?” Enji said, his tone gruff and demanding. Aizawa sighed before passing a paper across the table.

“Sir, my colleague and I have come to request a change to our standard policy. After careful observation, we think it would be beneficial to allow integrated sessions between patients of different levels. For example, Jin Bubagawara has made outstanding improvements and is one of only a few patients to move down from Level Three. He has bonds with the patients remaining on our floor, as well as all of his learned coping mechanisms and personal growth that can be used as a physical guide to those who wish to follow in his footsteps.” Aizawa said, keeping his tone even and formal.

“I think you’re failing to see reality here, Dr. Aizawa. Integration of patients seems great on paper, and I’m sure you are well intended, but the one you’re truly jeopardizing is Mr. Bubagawara. I think it’s rather cruel to take a healing patient and shove him back in with that lot.” Enji said, leaning forward as he spoke.

“Cruel? That’s rich coming from you, though I guess you’re quite familiar with actions described as such.” Aizawa said, his fist hitting the table. Yours eyes widened, hearing the bite in his tone.

“You always did have that sharp tongue, but I’m afraid my hands are tied. You can show me your flimsy pieces of paper with exaggerated results and evidence, but I’m standing firm. I have no reason to grant a request like this.” Enji spat, shoving the paper back across the table at Aizawa.

“I’m sorry, but if I may speak, Jin isn’t just a patient, he’s a person. He has made friendships and formed bonds with the others. While it is true that regression is a very real risk, we would immediately pull him if that were the case. As of right now, we have no reason to believe that would happen. In fact, we have seen the opposite. Toga is a prime example, Jin is able to keep her calm and behaving. We’ve seen her mirror his coping mechanisms which is a great starting point. Dabi, who refuses to speak to almost everyone, will sit comfortably and chat with Jin. Even earlier today, I feel that we had a very successful-” You were cut off by a chair scraping against the floor loudly as Enji pushed himself up to stand and you could see the anger burning within his stare.

“Are you talking about the mess that was earlier today, doctor? I believe miss Himiko ran around the courtyard exhausting staff and Mr. Shigaraki lunged at the fitness instructor after having a mental breakdown. I can tell you and Aizawa went to the same lousy school, because that is far from what I would consider as a success. I can sympathize that you both dislike traditional practice, and would like to try something a little more modern, but these are patients. Not your lab rats to run your theories on. The staff here is well respected, they’re not little minions who should be expected to chase after your patients or carry out your responsibility. In the future, I’d like the two of you to think about what is best for everyone as a whole. You’re dismissed.” Enji said, taking a seat and turning his back to the two of you.

You could see the flash of hatred that crossed Aizawas features, but he steeled his mouth shut and stood to leave, motioning for you to follow.

“Oh, Y/N, a moment please?” Enji called out, and you paused in step. You glanced to Aizawa who cast a suspicious look at the director before giving you a nod.

“I’ll be in my office.” He told you, then turned and walked back into the hall.

You took a deep breath, sitting back in the chair and digging your nails into the wooden arms. Your nerves felt so tightly strung, but you kept yourself composed.

“Yes, sir?” You asked evenly.

“I know you are new to your residency and are still learning, so I’ll go easy on you for now. I’d like to give you some advice, don’t follow in his footsteps. Aizawa has no interest in doing what is best for the patients here or the asylums staff. He is a man of total self interest. I believe if you let him corrupt your judgment, you will fail in this profession.” Enji said, turning back to look at you and fixing you with a firm gaze.

You didn’t think it was the time to argue, so you simply nodded, hoping your face conveyed a look of recognition, even though you disagreed with him wholeheartedly. For now, you knew you’d have to play his game and try to stay under the radar, which you hoped would come easily with your newer position in the building. Right now though, you wanted an answer.

“Thank you, director. I’ll definitely keep that in mind. While I’m here, I was wondering if you could help me with something. I’ve been assigned to Dabi’s case, but many things on his file were missing from his records. Why is he on Level Three?” You asked, watching him for any reaction.

“Dabi is on Level Three because he is dangerous. He lacks the capacity to feel in any normal sense of the word. He is highly manipulative, and sees no worth in human life. We left in his file the drugs and arson, but we excluded the results of those listed charges. 7 lives have been taken by that man. He will kill, in fact, he almost killed me.” Enji told you, his tone far too casual, too indifferent.

“Don’t you think that information would be important to put into his paperwork? If we don’t know everything surrounding what led him to this point, how are we supposed to give him the best treatment we can offer? Not only can that impact diagnostics, it puts the well respected staff at risk.” You were trying very hard to not allow your temper to flare. For a man who berated one of his top doctors so quickly for what he felt was an oversight, he seemed to have plenty of his own.

“It shouldn’t, so long as you do your job properly. Is that an issue for you?” His eyebrows were raised and you wanted to scoff at his arrogance, but you held it in.

“No, sir.” You said.

“Good, Im glad we were able to clear that up. As for why it’s off of his record, that has to do with the legality surrounding his case. I’ve already told you more than I should have, so please do try to keep it confidential. I’m putting a lot of faith in you, don’t make me regret it. If you work well with me, you may find yourself running Level Three one day.” He said, before telling you he had other business to attend and asking you to leave.

___________

You walked along the halls, your mind still on the director. While you had yet to hear the stories of dislike toward Enji, you were already very sympathetic to them. He was, in short, a total ass. The way he twisted a story of concern into one of neglect spoke volumes to you. You knew there wasn’t much you could do, and while you hoped perhaps he was just having an off day, you were fairly certain that this was just his true character.

You mused over everything you wish you could have said as you headed up to the third floor, ready to collect Dabi as promised. Your heavy feet carried you to the elevator and through the back halls until you found yourself at his room.

You unlocked his door and made your way inside to find him leisurely laying on his bed, his head propped on his arm. His closed eyes slowly opened, giving you a lazy glance, before pushing himself to stand. He stretched, before silently turning and placing his hands behind his back, waiting for you to secure him.

Once he was restrained, you led him out into the hallway and down to the bathroom, locking the door as you entered before removing his cuffs.

“You’re quiet today.” Dabi said, his eyes lingering on you before shifting to look around the bland room.

“Oh, yeah sorry. Guess my mind is just somewhere else. Give me just a second and I’ll have the water ready for you.” You said, forcing a smile and quickly walking to kneel beside the tub, turning on its taps.

Dabi inspected you from behind before pulling off his shirt and flinging it to the floor. He walked over and sat himself down on the rim of the tub beside you.

“That have anything to do with our wonderful director? I’m guessing your meeting didn’t go so well.” He gave a weak laugh and a shake of his head, his tone sounding unsurprised.

“Yeah, something like that.” You sighed, a solemn smile on your face as you ran your hand under the water, checking its temperature and adjusting the knobs as needed.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, fingers weaving into his hair to scratch his scalp.

You did want to, there was no doubt about that. The whole thing irked you, and Dabi sounded like he may know the director a bit more than you did, anyways. He would be one to go to for possible insight, but you knew that was a line you couldn’t cross. The meeting involved the groundwork to his treatment, and the details of what was said could easily interfere with his relations to the staff at the asylum. You could already guess he was not a fan of the director, especially if what Enji had said of the past were true, but still, it would be unethical to expose him to those issues, the conversation that took place. You knew better than to vent to him about all of this, so you gave a tight smile and shook your head.

“No, not right now, but thank you.” You placed a hand on his knee and gave it a light squeeze, hoping it would convey all of the things you would have to keep inside. Your hand retreated for a moment, and then you reached to turn off the water, stepping back to let Dabi finish undressing and climb into the tub.

Once sat in the water, he sighed, stretching his arms over his head as he leaned back against the cool wall behind him, letting his eyes linger on your face. You could feel him watching you the whole time you washed him, but you tried to ignore it.

“You’re angry.” He finally commented, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the edge of the tub and resting his chin on folded arms as he twisted in your direction. You sucked in a breath before letting out a low sigh and nodding.

“Yeah, I am. I’m sorry, I should have taken a breather before I came and got you, got it out of my system first.” You apologized, hanging your head in frustration, feeling your hair fall forward as you did. You needed to get a grip. You didn’t need your patient worrying about you and trying to console you. How could you ever expect to help someone in this field when you couldn’t reel in your emotions and keep them in check?

“Stop.” Dabi said calmly, and you glanced at him with a frown.

“Stop what?” You asked dejectedly.

His long fingers moved slowly, cautiously, as he grabbed onto the soft hair framing your face, twisting it between nimble fingertips before reaching farther up to run his hands along your forehead, gathering the hair and tucking it behind your ear.

“Stop apologizing.” He said, his fingers moving to the other side of your face, tracing along your cheek with a feather like touch before brushing those hairs out of the way as well.

“I just feel like it isn’t fair to you.” You explained and he clicked his tongue at you.

“Do you know why I wanted you to be my doctor?” He asked, his fingers moving from your head, gliding downward and dancing over the skin of your neck.

“Because you’re familiar with me from the hospital?” You asked, ignoring the goosebumps that rose on your arms from his touch.

“Because I can see you. I’ve had to sit in rooms with countless people that I’ll never remember the names of. They fake professionalism, act superior, look down on me as if they could ever understand the life that I’ve lived. You’re not like that. You’ve never been like that.” He explained, fingers ghosting down the skin of your shoulders.

“You walk in with that goofy grin and just put your whole self into what you do. You don’t hide anything, and it’s like for a moment everything is normal. We’re just two people talking. I feel comfortable with you, it’s hard not to. Even back when we first met at the hospital, you didn’t just clam up and try to get me out of your hair, you cared. You tried to talk to me, to understand who I was. Even now, you feel like the only person here who gives a damn. So if you’re mad, be mad. Don’t apologize to me for feeling or being genuine when that’s the thing I like the most about you.” He told you, fingers running down your forearm until he reached your wrist, before sliding to grab your hand.

You felt your heart ache as you looked down at your lap, feeling his warm thumb brush along the cool skin of your knuckles. His words sank in, feeling bittersweet. It almost felt like some type of confession, as if he had revealed a secret of his to you.

Everything you had been taught told you to keep a firm line between your personal self and your professional self, never allowing that boundary to blur, but how could you lock so many pieces of yourself away if that was what allowed you to reach someone? If that was what gave someone the sense of ease that they needed to open up or to heal, wasn’t that the right approach then?

“I’m glad that I make you feel that way. I can’t promise that I can always have everything on display, I feel like that could hinder me helping you somewhat, but I’ll do my best to always be authentic. I do care about you, I want to help you however I can.” You told him, your hand twisting to return his hold.

“I know, I trust you.” He said, giving one last squeeze before his hand pulled away, settling into the water.

You smiled at hearing his faith in you. While textbooks would possibly oppose your methods, you truly believed Dabi first and foremost needed someone who felt like a friend. That notion became even more solidified now. While you couldn’t tell him the details of what went on behind the scenes, you promised yourself you wouldn’t hide behind a mask with someone who would see past it anyways. If Dabi needed you to be real with him, then that’s what you’d do. Hopefully, you could widen his circle, but for now, you hoped you could be enough to get the ball rolling.

For a moment, your thoughts had turned back to what Enji had revealed to you, and you wondered if someone like Dabi truly had the capacity to harm others like the director had suggested. He didn’t seem like this violent and dangerous man, though you were sure that could be situational. As of right now, you had to assume he was capable of it, but it hadn’t been provoked during his stay here as of yet. You didn’t know what he had been through, the ways in which he had suffered. All you could do was try and give him what he needed, get him to open up and learn as you go to try and understand why he was here and how to help him get back to his regular life.

With that, you finished his bath, conversation returning to its lighthearted and normal flow as thoughts of your meeting and concerns were temporarily pushed to the back of your mind, before escorting him to his room and finishing out the rest of your shift.

81 notes · View notes

roadkill01 · 3 years

Text

Hange/Levi (platonic) x Male Reader

All you could do was watch as the tongs came closer to your fingers, digging underneath your dirtied fingernail. A shrill scream vibrated across the bloodied stone walls as the nail was ripped from your finger. Tears streamed down your face as you begged for this torture to stop, but it was all done to no avail. You felt the blood drip down and collect at the end of your limp hand. The only sound in the room was heavy pants heard from both parties and the occasionally splash of blood against the hard stone floor. Your torturer huffed, and pushed a hand through his sweaty hair, making it slick back and stick up in odd places.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just speak. I have taken all of your finger and toenails. Your body has been burnt and lacerated. I’m not even sure how you are alive...” you wished for death though. Pleading and begging for this seemingly endless torture to stop. Tears ran down your bloodied cheeks, and your torturer brought a warm hand to your face. He swiped away the tears with the pad of his thumb, smearing the blood up your cheekbone. He moved his hand to hold the stump at the end of your ear. A month ago there was a pretty silver earring attached to it. He didn’t like how it glistened in the candlelight though, so naturally it had to go.

“You were so handsome [Name]. Such a perfect husband. Waiting patiently for me to come to you.” You didn’t understand what had come of the sweet boy you had grown up with. What had changed? Why was he forced to become such a heartless vicious man as this? The slam of a door brought you from your darkening thoughts. He had finally left. You let out cry after cry, mourning the old Eren. And wishing a peaceful death upon the new one. He had to rest. You know so much, and yet you didn’t. For just as life, Eren continued pushing on. It didn’t matter through which obstacle. The love of your life wasn’t initially put in to torture you, originally it was supposed to be Hange and Levi. Eren took it over, as you had heard from him and you’d been moved cells. Your captain and the one who thought of you as a younger brother, neither could apparently bear to do it. Nobody could. You were such a happy influence on them all, it seemed ridiculous that you were accused of being a traitor. You had been in this dreaded cell for a month now. The only person you had seen was Eren. You were the subject of inconceivable rumours when it came out that Reiner and Bertholdt were Titans. You had been close friends with the two, and frequently interacted with Annie. The survey corps couldn’t take anymore risks. You would never blame them for this. You heard clattering come from up the stairs, and wondered if Eren was home already.

What surprised you however was the concerned deep voice that called out. “Hello? Is anyone here? Please call out.” You let out a nervous greeting to the stranger followed by heavy thumping come down the stairs, almost as if someone was jumping down them. You closed your eyes and sighed, the energy immediately dispelling from your body. If you were going to die now, you would accept it graciously. You opened them once more when the owner of these footsteps stifled a gasp. You only grew curious at the sound but didn’t look over yet.

What made you look over, was when the voice called out a loud. “Hange. Your going to want to see this.” You looked over as Levi began to fiddle with the locks on the other side of the bars. You could see how is hands kept slipping and shaking. You took a shaky breath as another set of footsteps (which you guessed were Hanges) made their way downstairs. The second they saw the state you were in they took off their glasses, tears flowed down from their brown uncovered eye. “[Name]? Don’t tell me? No, no, I’m so sorry.” All you could do was watch as the bright optimistic person you’d come to known fell apart at the state you were in, and who could blame them.

You looked half dead anyway, the clothes you once wore hand been dyed a crimson with the sheer amount you had bled. There was darkened ashy skin, where Eren had burnt you, peeling away and revealing the clashing pink of exposed flesh underneath. There were chunks that had been taken out of your body, namely your arms and thighs. The finger and toenails now newly removed seeped more of the dreaded red liquid. There was just so much. A seemingly endless wave of blood. It would never stop crashing upon you and those who stood too close. With a clank the door unlocked. Levi had opted for kicking the door in instead of trying to break the lock. Hange rushed in first, immediately undoing the rough rope pulled taught against your ankles and the chair leg. Levi coming next you, to pull away the loose pieces holding your wrist down to the arm of the chair. As the ropes were pulled away, you felt as though you could finally rest now. You were saved, right? Your limp body fell forward onto Hange as Levi undid the final rope on your left wrist.

They held you up, and carried you like a baby as you clung to them. Your legs wrapped around their waist and your arms around their neck. Hange held your back and pulled you into them as they carried you up the stairs, Levi anxiously picking at his nails next to you and Hange. The pair walked through the upstairs in complete silence, not daring to utter a word. The only sound on that damned floor was the eternal dripping of your blood. As you reached the door to outside, Hange pushed your head into their neck, the sunlight would be a surprise for a man who had not seen light in a month. A small murmur was heard from you as you asked. “Are you two okay? If I die now, I need you to know I never once blamed you.” Tears unwillingly fell from their face once more and even Levi had to stifle a cry at the words.

The commander of the survey corps carrying a limp body was a sight to see, so naturally it dragged the attention of surrounding villagers. Muttering began as they realised the body belonged to you, none other than [Name] [Last Name]. A strong soldier with a future in the military brighter than Queen Historia’s hair. You had always been good to the general public, and as such they had loved you in return. The survey corps knew the amount of influence you held over these villagers, even if you did not. They loved you, because you were kind even after the unrelenting dangers of the outside, you always kept your morals no matter how difficult and helped wherever you could. A small blonde girl ran up to Hange, ignoring the cry’s of the crowd gathered, and gripped the bloodied material of your shirt. She looked up to meet the commanders eyes silently pleading that you weren’t dead. She was one of many people you had helped and as such felt indebted to you. Your joyous face whenever you returned from an expedition out the walls would make her heart soar and you would even bring flowers for some upon occasion. She had a flower now, clutched in her trembling pale hand and she thrusted it into the space between you and Hange, and dropped it. The stem was discoloured and crumped from how tightly the young girl had gripped it. Hange nodded slightly, closing their eyes before speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.

“[Name] [Last Name] is not dead. Not now at least. We will get him into immediate care, and hopefully someone can tend to his injuries, as you can see they are quite severe. Do not worry though, we can keep you updated about his current condition and will tell you immediately if he does,” she began to choke up. “If he does end up dying.” A few in the crowd began to cry and others angrily shout. “Who the hell is responsible for this!” Hange looked down casted and they began to walk away, avoiding the question. If word got out that it was another scout, much less your own partner all hell would break loose and the scouts headquarters would most definitely be compromised. They would deal with Eren all in due time, and by god would he have hell to deal with.

Levi however turned to the man, and feeling nothing but absolute hatred for the former member of his squad spat out a bitter, “Eren Jeager.” Hange could punish him later, as long as justice was brought for his friend. The pair began to speed up as Hange felt your heart beat grow weaker, eventually breaking into a full blown sprint. Levi ran ahead to prepare the doctor, saying it was of the upmost importance. You and Hange eventually reached the doctor with Hange practically flinging themselves through the door and gently laid you on an unused table. The doctor was quick to rush to your side and carefully peeled off the sticky clothing, occasionally using a knife to cut parts away. With your body lying bare, both the doctor and the longest surviving members of the survey corps could fully see the damage Eren had inflicted. Hange let out a choked sob as Levi just stood, anger and disbelief evident on his face. The doctor immediately ushered the pair out the room, and pushing a piece of paper into their hands. “Find these plants, there are drawings in case you need help with identifying them.” He then pointed to the forest a whiles walk away from the doctors house. He slammed the door in their faces and got back to helping patch you up. It seems he wasn’t all talk as he helped stabilise your near death condition.

A knock at the door alerted the doctor of Hange and Levi’s arrival. He yelled at them for come in, not wanting to leave your body alone for any amount of time in case your condition would suddenly drop. The entered and the doctor set to work grinding the specific herbs and plants into a paste which he would apply to your body. Hange’s hand swiped over your newly cleaned face, you looked a lot better now that there wasn’t quite so much blood everywhere. The doctor smeared the newly made green paste on the more severe lacerations and quickly wrapped them in cloth.

“I.. I don’t know if he’ll make it out alive.” The blunt statement filled Hange and Levi’s head. You wouldn’t make it? But you were [Name] [Last Name]? The boy who kept smiling through everything? And yet as your chest rose and fell irregularly both Hange and Levi knew the chances of you living were slim.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Can I see [Name] today mama? I wanna give him flowers!” The woman looked down at her daughter and ruffled her blonde hair. “Of course honey, be back for lunch though, okay?” The girl nodded, beaming and rushed out her house, sprinting over the mismatched cobbles and up to the woods where you resided. Once she’d reached the forest, the trees split, almost as if guiding everyone who came, directly to [Name]. She ran down the rocky path, the villagers had collectively gathered to make a stone path all the way to [Name] so people can easily come and visit him. She almost tripped and dropped the flowers but a bush caught her, and she steadied herself once more. When she arrived she already saw Hange and Levi sitting by the sandstone headstone. “Ah- Mx Hange and Mr Levi, I didn’t know you were here sorry.” Hange smiled at the girl and beckoned her to come closer.

“That’s quite alright, we were just telling him we’d be back soon, we’ve got a mission coming up soon, and I can’t bring myself to not run every plan through him first.” Levi grimaced at their words, he knew they weren’t taking [Name]’s death particularly well, especially after Eren only really got off with a slap on the wrist. He would come with her, hoping they wouldn’t do anything rash especially after Moblit died. Besides, he too had come to care about the ridiculously happy [hair colour] boy in his squad. The girl came and sat by his gravestone, taking the dying flowers off the grave and putting on her fresh ones. Hange smiled at the action, glad that even if Levi and them were to die, there would at least be someone to take care of his final resting place. “I wish you the best. [Name] [Last Name]”

#aot #attack on titan #male reader #snk #snk levi #hange zöe #hange supremacy #angst?#eren yeager #sad ending #unless you want to die #I probably shouldn’t put spoilers #don’t read the tags unless you want spoilers

26 notes · View notes

cutieodonoghue · 3 years

Photo

the edge of hope (6/9)

summary: canon divergent au; when Din left Sorgan to protect the Child, he left the woman he’d fallen in love with, not knowing he’d also left behind something else. Or, Omera and Winta join Mando and Grogu on their season 2 adventures. Mandomera!

Catch up here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Sixth chapter below the cut or on AO3!

The Jedi

The journey to Corvus took a while, which meant there was enough time for the crew aboard the Razor Crest to spend time together in the hold of the ship.

While Winta and the Child played together on the floor, giggling loud enough that it could be heard from the cockpit, Omera spent her time working on a sewing project for the baby. It would be a pair of socks, eventually, mended together with fabric she’d brought along from the village.

Din had decided to stay up above by himself. She had to wonder if it was because he was upset about having to say goodbye to his boy once they found a Jedi. Hopefully, they wouldn’t find themselves following yet another clue to find the Jedi that Bo-Katan had vouched for.

As Omera sewed together the small sock for her unborn child, she couldn’t ignore the guilt that sat within her. She should’ve told Din when she had the opportunity. She should’ve found the words, as hard as they would’ve come. But instead, she’d allowed herself to get caught up in it all over again.

There was no such thing as perfect timing. She knew that now. The children would always be a priority in their travels, and so would the mission at hand.

As if he knew she was thinking of him, the Mandalorian dropped down from the upper level, landing with a thud that startled the children. They each turned to look at him for a moment, and when he had nothing to say, they returned to what they were doing.

He came to stand near Omera, though he didn’t come as close as he usually did. She sat within the opened sleeping nook, on the edge so that she could watch the children play.

“Are we getting close?”

Din turned his attention onto her, looking away from the kids. “Still a while to go.”

Omera nodded in understanding.

She watched Winta roll a ball across the floor, gesturing for the Child to go grab it for himself. He seemed less interested in play time, instead flopping down to sit. Winta did the same.

“When we were on Nevarro…” Din spoke carefully, just low enough that it was only for her to hear. Omera looked up at him patiently. “Cara and Greef said some things…”

She couldn’t help but smile. “They implied some things…”

He nodded. “I… just want you to know that I would’ve gone back to Sorgan. Even if you hadn’t come with us. You’re… important. To me.”

Her heart fluttered. She knew he wanted them to be together, that he may have even had feelings for her that were strong, but to hear him say so aloud felt like a gift.

“I would’ve been there waiting.”

The Mandalorian was quiet while his focus changed, shifting instead to his toddling boy with a happy grin on his face. At his side, Winta had discovered the Mandalorian armor that Cobb Vanth had worn on Tatooine. She slid the helmet over her head and giggled. Then, she pulled it off and showed it to the Child.

It surprised her a little that Din didn’t chastise the children for playing with it. He’d felt so strongly about protecting the armor and bringing it back to his people.

“Before him, I provided for my people on Nevarro. The covert is gone now. Scattered. After we find his kind, I won’t have a path I’m sworn to.”

Din folded his arms against his chest and turned his attention onto her again.

“I thought… maybe my next path would reveal itself to me on this journey. Maybe I’d find the members of my covert who scattered. But instead, we’ve just run around in circles, and Gideon’s back.”

She’d felt so excited at the idea of being together when this mission was over that she hadn’t considered what Din wanted to do next. Her only concern had been the relief of knowing he wanted to be together.

Would he still want that when he learned of their child? And what about his future? Was it fair to him to stay together somewhere, raising a family, when he could help so many with his skills and talents?

Her stomach flipped and she averted her gaze, looking at the baby sock in her hand.

“Well, maybe your next steps will be revealed to you soon,” Omera told the Mandalorian. She refused to look at him, feeling too ashamed of herself.

Din was silent for a few seconds. “Maybe.”

Before Omera had the chance to say anything, to offer him hope, he walked away, retreating back toward the cockpit again. She shut her eyes, sighing softly through her nose.

How could they ever be together? It felt like a dream that would never be realized, so distant that it felt foolish to continue running after it.

At her feet, she felt the sudden warm embrace of small hands around her calf. Looking down, she saw the Child, whose smile was gentle and innocent.

“Hi, little one.”

Omera leaned down to pull him up into her lap. With her arm around his belly, he wrapped his fingers around hers.

“What do you think?” She held up the sock. “It’s not finished yet… but I think it will work.”

The Child tilted his head and cooed. He reached out with one hand to take it and she laughed.

“It isn’t for you.” Omera kissed the top of his head before whispering, “It’s for your little brother or sister.”

The Child’s smile spread happily. Her heart felt warm. She could only imagine what it would feel like to finally tell Din.

“Din.” Winta sighed his name heavily from her seat behind him. “I miss home.”

They had been on their way to Corvus for a considerable length of time, so Winta’s complaint wasn’t without its reason, but it still hurt to hear. They were a traveling crew, one he was quite fond of. Winta in particular was just one way this journey had become so much brighter, in more ways than one.

Omera had excused herself to use the privy a few minutes ago and still hadn’t returned, so Din knew he had no choice but to turn and answer the angst-ridden child.

“I know you’re uncomfortable. I think we’re all getting a little cabin fever.”

Winta threw her head back and huffed a dramatic sigh. “I wish we could just be there already.”

Din sighed. He took a peek out the window of the cockpit and pointed to the nearby planet.

“Look. That’s Corvus. If you can just sit tight for a few more minutes, we’ll start the landing cycle, and we’ll be back on solid ground soon enough.”

The door to the cockpit opened and Omera entered. She sat without saying anything, but he still glanced back at her anyway.

The journey had been unintentionally tense between them for no other reason than his knowing that she had something to tell him, and her insistence that she wait until they finally found the Jedi.

If she wanted to tell him her feelings, he had an inclination that he knew what they were already. At least, he hoped he knew. After everything that they’d shared, everything spoken and unspoken, the direction she seemed to lean was in the very same direction he did.

It was hard to admit it to himself, after a lifetime of perfecting a tough outer shell. The feeling had only intensified with her closeness to him these past few weeks.

Din was in love, and it wasn’t just with Omera. He’d fallen for Winta too, the adorable girl with dimples and a penchant for making up songs.

They would be together, once this journey was finished, and it made his chest tight with longing each time the thought came to his mind, even if it terrified him. He didn’t know what it would look like, or how they would make it work. They’d figure it out. They’d have to.

“We’re almost there,” Din told Omera. He looked at the Child, seated on the console to his right. “You better get back in your seat, kid.”

The Child cooed, but didn’t move. For a second, he looked at the ball tightened on the lever - his favorite toy to hold.

“Hey,” Din said, trying to force his attention back on him. “What did I tell you? Back in your seat.”

After one more coo, the Child finally used his feet to move, climbing up onto Omera’s lap with a little contented sigh from the boy.

With the Empire likely on their tail and the Jedi not too far ahead, Din had to wonder what would come next. Would Moff Gideon lay off if the Child was returned to his kind? Would the Jedi even want to take him?

It was enough to keep Din’s mind busy considering every possible outcome of this stop on Corvus- a place, they soon discovered, that had been devastated by something, or someone. Trees sat dying on the barren forest floors, and a sleepy town sat behind tall brick walls.

It seemed desolate and empty. Why would a Jedi come here?

After settling the Razor Crest onto the ground near the town with tall brick walls, Din turned to his crew in the cockpit.

“Well, Corvus awaits.”

Winta slouched off of her chair, the earlier angst having melted into some sort of fresh tiredness mixed with it. Omera shook her head at the girl.

“You’ll feel better once we get outside,” Omera said as she ushered her child up out of her chair. “Let’s go.”

As they stepped off of the Crest, Din focused on the world around them. It was quiet. A few creatures moaned in the distance, but the land seemed peaceful. Although, the dead trees standing all around the ship seemed to be a bad omen for things to come.

Behind him, the Child sat down on the ramp. Din turned, frowning when he saw that he’d pulled the ball off of the lever.

“What did I say about that?” He leaned down, scooping the Child into his arms. He pulled the ball away from him. “This needs to stay in the ship.”

“Mama, what happened to this land? It’s so… sad.”

Omera shook her head. “I don’t know. It certainly hasn't been cared for, has it?”

“No.”

Din approached the pair who stood just ahead of him.

“Let’s head into town. See if we can pick up a lead. I’ve never had dealings with a Jedi before, so… not sure where to start.”

“That seems as good a place as any to try,” Omera agreed.

The walls of the town were higher than they’d seemed before, towering high above them as they approached the main gate. A handful of officers stood watch above them. Thoughtfully, he hid the Child within the fabric sling at his side in an attempt at keeping his identity secure.

After a short inquiry by the gate officers, they were permitted to enter through the gates, and once they stepped inside, Din knew right away that this mission was about to be difficult. Very few of the people within the gates seemed eager to linger, much less look in their direction.

“Pardon me, vendor, have you heard of anyone…”

The vendor turned away from him, heading away from her goods and inside the building just behind her. Frowning, Din sighed. He looked at Omera, who lingered behind him. She stared into an alleyway, at an older man who tended to two children.

“Excuse me,” Omera kept her voice low and kind. “Can you help us?”

The older man shooed the children away and then approached them. “Please, do not speak to them, or to any of us.”

Frowning, Omera shook her head. “We just need help finding someone. Please-”

Before she could make any headway with the villager, a pair of fully armed and threatening guards approached them and addressed him directly.

“The Magistrate wants to see you.”

He met Omera’s gaze. She instantly held Winta closer. With a nod toward the guards, he allowed them to guide them toward their Magistrate.

“Stay close.”

Omera nodded silently.

They were led toward another large gate within the town: a strange centerpiece to an already strange place.

Worried, he kept Omera and Winta in his sights at his side. He was always committed to protecting them, but with the hope of staying together once this journey was finished, he felt extra protective.

As they approached the second gate, Omera protected her daughter from the sight of three prisoners being tortured for all to see. He tried to shield Winta from it as well and stepped in front of her strategically.

“Help us.” He was electrocuted for his words and released a scream so bloodcurdling that Din couldn’t help but feel contempt for the one who was doing this to them.

Beyond the gates, there was a calm and peaceful garden. A bridge covered a pond full of fish, and that’s where the Magistrate stood, feeding her pets while three lives were tortured to the brink of death just feet away.

He led his crew just beyond the gates and stopped.

“Come forward.” It was clear to him that this woman was the cause of the troubles of this town. While she lived in comfort, her people were tightly controlled and fearful for their lives. Even still, he stepped toward her with Omera and Winta just behind him. “You are a Mandalorian?”

“Yes.”

“I have a proposition that may interest you.”

Din held his head high, glancing out of the corner of his vision at Omera. She held Winta close, protecting her even though they’d already seen the worst that this town had to offer.

“My price is high.”

The Magistrate took a few steps toward him. “A Jedi plagues me. I want you to kill her.”

He felt the Child stir a little at his side and was reminded of his true purpose for being on this planet. He needed to find the Jedi, not kill her.

“That’s a difficult task.”

The Magistrate offered a small smile. “One that you are well-suited for. The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore.”

“As I said, my price is high.”

He was unwilling to pledge that he’d kill one of the Child’s kind. It was wrong to even consider such a thing, but he didn’t want to put their lives in danger by denying the Magistrate’s offer. It seemed to him that she might know where the Jedi was, and that was all he needed.

The Magistrate quietly summoned a guard droid forward, one holding a spear in hand.

“What do you make of this?”

The Magistrate spun the dull end of the spear toward him and then held it outward in both hands as an offering. Carefully, he stepped toward her to take it. When he took it into his hands, he studied it carefully. It seemed like beskar in feel, and when he tested it against his arm gauntlet, he was proven right. Rang out clean.

“Beskar.”

“Pure beskar… like your armor. Kill the Jedi and it’s yours.”

“Where do I find this Jedi?”

Walking around on a dying, unfamiliar planet with two children was not his brightest idea, especially considering the risks surrounding them, but they really had no choice. If they wanted to find the Jedi, they needed to keep moving.

Omera walked at his side while Winta ran ahead. She used the angst she’d built up on the ship in the quickness of her strides. It was only the smallest step above the complaining she’d done when they began the walk in terms of anxiety-inducing behaviors.

“Winta!” Omera called after her. “Winta, you can’t keep running ahead.”

Winta stopped, throwing her head back to groan. “Mama…”

“This is a planet none of us know,” Omera scolded. “We don’t know what’s out there. We can’t protect you if you get too far ahead.”

An idea came to him when he heard the Child make a noise. He gestured for Winta. “Come here. You can hold the Child.”

Winta came back toward them and waited patiently for him to grab the boy from the sling at his side. When he settled him into Winta’s arms, the Child cooed happily.

“There,” Din said, nodding toward them. “We’re getting close to the coordinates. We stay together. Understood?”

Winta nodded. “Yes, Din.”

He looked at Omera, whose usual brightness seemed to have dampened. “Okay?”

She took a breath of the thick Corvus air and smiled slightly. “I think all of the adventure is finally catching up with me. Traveling with two young ones isn’t easy, is it?”

Din shook his head. “No, but at least we’re together.”

Her expression softened a little and she nodded her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed thinking about what will happen when we find the Jedi. Will he go with them? Will he be okay with the Empire after him? Will we?”

They were all questions that had been plaguing him since learning of Gideon’s survival on Nevarro. It was comforting to know he had Omera to lean on as she worried about the same uncertainties.

Sighing, Din stared at the Child in Winta’s arms. “I don’t know.”

A twig snapped behind them and Din turned quickly, pulling his blaster from his side as he moved. Ahead of him, an unfamiliar figure stood with a pair of light sticks in her hands. She wore a soft smile on her lips and a quirk in her brow.

“Aren’t bounty hunters supposed to travel lightly?”

Din narrowed his eyes slightly. “Are you Ahsoka Tano?” The woman said nothing indicating if she was or not, so he held hope that she was. “Bo-Katan sent me. We need to talk.”

Pleasantly, she stepped closer to them. For a moment, he thought about how he’d attack should she decide to try something, but she saw past him and Omera, her gaze settling on the Child in Winta’s arms instead.

“I hope it’s about him.”

The Jedi sat opposite the Child, both planted firmly on fallen trees, for hours. The light of the day gave easily to night, and Din was unable to stay in one place for longer than a second.

He paced around in wandering circles, waiting helplessly as Ahsoka seemed to commune with the Child in silence.

He knew nothing of how the Jedi worked, or if talking silently was how the Child was meant to communicate, but he found some comfort in the way Ahsoka Tano carried herself. She would have answers for him.

Leaning against a nearby tree, Omera held a snoozing Winta in her arms. Her nervous gaze was set only on him every time he even cast a glance in her direction. His stomach flipped at the contact and his heart clenched warmly within his chest.

He found comfort in the fact that he wasn’t in this alone. They’d found the Jedi together.

From their perch just ahead of him, Ahsoka nodded at the Child, whose arms were held out as if he wished to be carried. She scooped him into her arms and grabbed her lantern, then slowly made her way towards him.

Feeling nothing short of anxious, Din met her halfway. The Jedi settled the Child upon a rock and sat next to him. The kid babbled at her and she smiled fondly.

“Is he speaking?” Din asked. “Do you understand him?”

“In a way,” Ahsoka replied, meeting his gaze. “Grogu and I can feel each other’s thoughts.”

“Grogu?” Din asked. It earned him an excited chirp from the Child as he craned his head to the side to look up at him.

“Yes.” Din stared at the Child. The Child stared back. Something had changed in the kid. Maybe it was because he was understood by someone. “That’s his name.”

“Grogu.”

This time, the Child’s eyes were wider and his ears perked up. There was a happy look on his face accompanying the noise he made. It must’ve been true: his name was Grogu.

“He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Many Masters trained him over the years. At the end of the Clone Wars when the Empire rose to power, he was hidden.” As Ahsoka spoke, Din sat on a fallen tree stump opposite the Jedi to listen to her story. “Someone took him from the Temple. Then his memory becomes… dark. He seemed lost. Alone.”

She paused and looked thoughtfully at the kid- Grogu. He seemed tired. His eyes squinted and his head fell. His ears flopped around as he tried to keep awake. “I’ve only known one other being like this. A wise Jedi Master named Yoda.”

As if affirming her words, Grogu made a noise. Din wasn’t sure what to think, but he appreciated learning about his history. As tragic as it sounded, he could relate to it. They were both foundlings. They had both been lost.

“Can he still wield the Force?” she asked.

Din shook his head. The word meant absolutely nothing to him. “You mean his powers?”

“The Force is what gives him his powers. It is an energy field created by all living things. To wield it takes a great deal of training and discipline.”

He thought back over every extraordinary thing, big and small, that he’d seen the kid do. There was so much power inside of him that Din could never explain or make peace with. The Mudhorn. Healing Karga. What he did on Nevarro with the fire. Moving things… choking people.

“I’ve seen him do things I can’t explain.” On the rock to his left, Grogu had closed his eyes, tired, and sighed as sleep overwhelmed him. “My task was to bring him to a Jedi.”

Sorrowfully, Ahsoka’s gaze fell dark. She frowned. “The Jedi Order fell a long time ago.”

It seemed like she didn’t want to help him. She had to know the dangers that the kid faced. He was special and wanted because of it.

“So did the Empire, yet it still hunts him. He needs your help.”

The Jedi contemplated this. He could tell that it wasn't something she took lightly. On either side of Grogu's path, there was the threat of the Empire.

“Let him sleep,” the Jedi said. “I’ll test him in the morning.”

Gently, she stood up, but she didn't walk away. Din followed her action and lifted the Child into his arms, cradling him as he typically did. Glancing past him, Ahsoka stared at Omera and Winta, not for the first time since their meeting. She looked back again.

“Grogu is attached to all of you,” she shared. She kept her voice low on behalf of the kid. “He told me she was special to you, too.”

Din smiled to himself, unable to help it. “Her name is Omera. She is… very special to me, yes.”

Ahsoka smiled amiably at his words. “It worries me- how attached Grogu is. It will make it difficult to train him.” Pausing, she took a half step backward. “But we’ll see how he is in the morning.”

“Right.”

He looked down at the boy sleeping in his arms for only a moment, but when he looked back up again, the Jedi had disappeared.

On a sigh, he made his way over to Omera. She was still awake where she rested, waiting for him to share what he’d learned from the Jedi. He sat down with his back pressed to the same tree. Their shoulders pressed together, but he couldn’t see her.

“What did she say?” Omera asked quietly.

Din’s chest ached as he lowered his hand to the Child’s belly.

Finally, he knew who this special child was, and it would only be a matter of time before they were no longer together. Ahsoka would undoubtedly see potential in Grogu and want to train him. It was something he hadn’t thought about, not wanting to deal with the realization that he had grown so attached to the kid.

Now that the time had finally come, the reality weighed heavy in his heart.

“She said his name is Grogu. She’s going to test his abilities in the morning.”

“Grogu,” Omera repeated. She laughed under her breath. “It’s nice to hear that he has a name.”

Din nodded in agreement. “It is.”

Silence between them grew like a vine on a wall for a long time, until Omera shifted and put her hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry we’ve made this part of the journey so difficult. Winta wants to go home… I’ve been distant...”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do. I want you to know that I’m here to support you. And Grogu. I want to be here with you both.”

Hearing Omera say that she wanted to be with him wasn’t a surprise. They’d made an agreement that they would find a path forward together once Grogu was with the Jedi. Even still, he felt his heart rate double at her words.

Omera wanted him in a way no other had before. She wanted a life with him, and he wanted it in kind. It surprised him how much he did.

Din shut his eyes. He pressed his head against the tree.

“When this is over…” he paused thoughtfully. “Maybe we could go to Nevarro. Winta can go to school. I can get work with Cara or Greef. We can have a home there.”

For a few seconds, she was quiet. He began to doubt that she felt comfortable with the idea of a life like that with him. Maybe she wanted something different. Maybe she wanted a life on Sorgan. But could he settle down there?

“That sounds nice,” Omera finally replied. Her voice was warm and gentle. “Maybe I would become a Mandalorian, too.”

The thought of Omera becoming Mandalorian was enough for him to forget to breathe.

“You would do that?”

“Yes.” Omera’s responding whisper brought an unbreakable smile to his face. “I’m kind of jealous of your armor, if I’m honest.”

He laughed, a noise that came from his belly, and Omera joined him. Her fingers found his on the forest floor, gentle when they slid against his gloved hand.

How had he found her? How had he been so lucky?

“What about Sorgan?” Din asked. “Your people would miss you. Winta would miss it too.”

She sighed. “I know. I think we would make it work. She could find new friends. And we would be together. I don’t want you to have to settle for something like a life on Sorgan if it isn’t what you want.”

“You shouldn’t have to settle, either.”

She was quiet while she thought about it. “We could visit the village. It’s a compromise I’m willing to make for our future together.”

With his eyes closed, he could see it: a home in Nevarro. Winta’s giggles echoing off the walls. A bed he and Omera could share alone. Doing odd jobs for Greef and Cara. Bringing Winta home a gift from wherever he found himself in his travels.

If he extended his reach enough, he could just feel it in the palm of his hand.

In the morning, once Grogu finally awoke, Ahsoka Tano began testing his abilities.

She started with a rock in her hand, one she pushed toward him as a demonstration of what she wanted him to do. Once he held the rock in his hand, she asked him to push it back by using the Force.

Din watched from the side, sensing that Grogu’s stubborn streak didn’t only include not listening to him. Apparently, he struggled to listen to everyone. When Grogu failed to send the rock back to Ahsoka, the Jedi sighed.

Thoughtful, she took a step to the side. “Let’s try something else. Come over here.”

Din looked to the Child and tilted his head toward Ahsoka to try and get him to move. He didn’t.

“He’s stubborn.”

“Not him. You. I want to see if he’ll listen to you.”

He glanced over at Omera, who sat nearby with Winta, brushing back her daughter’s hair as they watched Grogu’s test in silence. They didn’t want to cause distraction for the kid.

“That would be a first,” Din remarked, lifting his brow in exasperation.

“I like firsts,” Ahsoka said with a wry smile. “Good or bad, they’re always memorable.” She handed him a fresh stone, wanting to start over. “Now, hold the stone out in the palm of your hand. Tell him to lift it up.”

He did as he was told, the rock placed delicately between his thumb and forefinger. “All right, kid. Lift the stone.”

The Child stared back at him, blinking. Apparently, he didn’t want to listen to him either.

“Grogu,” Ahsoka reminded him.

“Grogu…” Din repeated.

This time, Grogu’s ears perked up. It was clear he enjoyed hearing Din say his name. Might have to keep that in mind for later.

“Come on, take the stone.”

Din could tell that Grogu gave it an effort, but it was nothing compared to what he’d seen him do before.

“You see?” He turned to face the Jedi and chucked the rock backward onto the ground again. It was useless. The kid didn't want to do it. “I told you, he’s stubborn.”

“Try to connect with him.”

Connect with him… how? A thought occurred to him, one that made him smile slightly. The ball from the lever on the Crest seemed to get him to do what he wanted. Just like Omera had suggested: award him with something he wanted to earn his responsiveness.

Din reached into his belt to find the ball. He lifted it into his palm and then slid it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Grogu.” He waited to get the kid’s attention locked on him. He gestured to the ball with a nod. “Do you want this?” His ears perked. “Well, go ahead.”

The Child concentrated on pulling the ball from him. He could feel it. Something was happening. He was about to do this, wasn’t he? He could prove to them all that he could use the Force.

“That’s right, take it. Come on.” Din couldn’t help from smiling from beneath his helmet. He had faith in the kid. He’d seen him do so much… if Ahsoka only knew. “You can have it. Come on.”

In an instant, the ball soared through the air between them, landing directly in Grogu’s waiting palm. He couldn’t help the swell of pride within him. He nodded, moving toward the Child.

“Good job!” He felt the grin on his face spread. “Good job, kid. You see that? That’s right.”

Din caught Omera staring at him. She smiled in kind, just as proud of Grogu as he was.

The Child cooed, looking at him as if he was more excited about the affirmation than he was about having his ball in his hands again. When he approached Grogu on his perch, he knelt down. He offered Din the ball and he took it, unable to look away from him. He was always amazed when he saw the kid do his thing. There was no doubt that he had gifts.

“I knew you could do it. Very good.”

From behind them, the Jedi spoke, “It’s like I thought. He’s formed a strong attachment to you. I cannot train him.”

He knitted his brow, instantly upset, and whirled around. “What? Why not? You’ve seen what he can do.”

Ahsoka stared at the Child for a moment and then turned her attention up to him. “His attachment to you makes him vulnerable to his fears. His anger.”

“All the more reason to train him.”

The Jedi took a step towards him. “No. I’ve seen what such feelings can do to a fully trained Jedi Knight. To the best of us. I will not start this child down that path. Better to let his abilities fade.” Ahsoka glanced toward Omera and Winta briefly. Then, she took a step backward as if she were prepared to leave. “I’ve delayed too long. I must get back to the village.”

The Jedi began on her path away from them, but Din knew he couldn’t let her go.

“The Magistrate sent me to kill you.” The Jedi pivoted on her heel to face him once more. “I didn’t agree to anything. And I’ll help you with your problem, if you see to it that Grogu is properly trained.”

Ahsoka took a deep breath as she considered the agreement. Together, they would make quite the team- one their enemies would never see coming.

Having made up her mind, she nodded. “Then we should get moving.”

After an afternoon spent trudging through the dying forests of Corvus, Omera felt as if every ounce of energy she had was absolutely depleted. As they approached the Razor Crest, all at once, all she wanted was to curl up in a corner somewhere and sleep.

Din and Ahsoka had come up with a plan to solve the Jedi’s problem, but they would wait for morning before they would begin their siege. Until then, their group returned to the Crest in silence, listening to the sounds of their feet against the forest floor and a couple of creatures moaning in the distance.

“He’s worn out,” Din murmured as he adjusted his son in his arm.

Omera hummed. “Using the Force must tire him.”

The Mandalorian nodded in agreement. He was the first up the Razor Crest’s extended ramp. As he walked, he soothed Grogu with his palm over his belly. Omera couldn’t help but see the action as a vision from the future, where he carried their newborn in the very same way. The thought made her heart ache with longing.

Winta followed after the Mandalorian, but Omera lingered at the base of the ramp. She turned when she felt a set of eyes on her. Ahsoka studied her from nearby with a soft, unassuming smile on her face.

She hadn’t realized that Ahsoka had followed them, but wasn’t surprised to see her. They’d spent the better part of the day together.

The Jedi approached, only slowing to a stop when they were close enough that their conversation would be kept private.

“I can feel your child,” Ahsoka said. She looked downward, a silent gesture to her middle. “It’s a boy. He’s strong. Healthy. Congratulations.”

Her heart raced wildly. How could she know? Was it the same way that Grogu knew?

“Thank you. But how do you…?”

Briefly, Ahsoka glanced up the ramp toward the inside of the Razor Crest. The Jedi was calm. Patient.

“The Force is in all things.” With a small smile, she added, “Grogu sensed him too.”

Omera thought back to the experiences she’d shared with the boy, where he’d seemingly been able to sense the unborn without needing any prompting at all.

“I had a feeling.”

The Jedi took half a step backwards. “I’ll be back for the Mandalorian before dawn like we agreed. You should rest.”

Before she could respond, Ahsoka turned away. Omera shifted her focus upward to seek out her family within the Razor Crest.

If what Ahsoka said was to be believed, she carried within her a boy. It was good to know that he was strong and healthy. Any worries she’d had about that could be put away.

Absentmindedly, her palm fell over her middle and she gave the small bump a gentle caress. Joy filled her as she considered her unborn child. What would he look like? In what ways would he be like Din? The thoughts gave her heart a lot to ponder.

Inside the ship, she saw Din with Grogu at the sleeping nook while Winta watched on from a slight distance.

The Mandalorian lingered, hovering with his son as if he could make time freeze, and Omera looked to Winta again, whose sorrowful focus sat on Din.

Winta knew they would have to say goodbye to the young Jedi soon. It wouldn’t be easy for any of them to let go of Grogu and see him step into his future, but there was hope in it. Grogu would one day be able to master his skills and return to them stronger than before. It wouldn’t last forever.

“Why don’t you set up our bed out here tonight, my love?” Omera asked her daughter with a gentle hand pressed to her arm.

Winta rubbed her eyes tiredly and nodded. “Okay.”

Their bed wasn’t much: a series of blankets and a single pillow they shared, but it was enough to make do. It was at least better than sleeping sitting up in the cockpit, even if the ground made her muscles ache just the same.

Omera went to Din and put her hand over his forearm, drawing his attention to her. “He isn’t going anywhere. Let him rest.”

“I never gave any thought to him leaving,” Din admitted in a quiet voice. “I always thought there would be more time.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Din sighed heavily. He finally pulled away from the hole in the wall. Their fingers tangled between them and she knew then that he was more vulnerable than he’d ever been with her.

This was difficult for him. She’d never seen him so conflicted about doing what was right before.

“Let’s try to get a few hours of sleep.”

Once the makeshift bed on the floor of the Razor Crest was completed, they pulled the ramp back up for protection from the creatures of the forest planet, and Omera settled in beside her daughter beneath a single blanket.

The Mandalorian lay out on his back beside them. The position made Omera feel tired in the most bone-aching way, but she turned to him anyway, and saw that he stared back at her.

He pulled his glove from his hand and she smiled when he sought out hers. This time, he traced lines into it, drawing over the creases and grooves of her palm like he could memorize her.

Desperation filled her. She wished that they were alone so that she could tell him how she felt about him. That she loved him. That she was carrying his child- a boy. That the future they’d discussed just a night ago was more possible than they could even dream.

“Are you okay?” Omera asked in a whisper.

Din stopped his movements on her hand briefly at the question she posed and then continued, whispering in response, “I can’t teach him what he needs to know. This is the best path for him.”

His selflessness was one of the strongest parts of him, but she knew it didn’t sit as easily as he made it sound. This was hard. He and Grogu were a clan of two. They’d formed an unbreakable bond.

“But are you okay?” Omera asked again.

The Mandalorian hesitated.

“I’ve grown to care for him as my own.” Din’s voice was quieter than before; timid. “He’s… my son.”

His words brought tears to her eyes. She forced him to stop tracing lines into her skin and reached up to take his hand in hers instead.

“One day, you will look back on this moment and remember the hurt, but then see the good that came from it and realize that it was well worth it all.” She smiled a little. “My mother told me that years and years ago.”

Din’s fingers tightened around hers, but he said nothing.

“She was so… wonderful. She would’ve loved you.” Omera smiled at the thought of her mother meeting the Mandalorian. She’d probably laugh that bright laugh of hers and challenge every word that he spoke. “She always told me I would find a man one day with stars in his eyes to match all of my ambitions.”

“Did you?”

She stared at Din for a moment. Her heart skipped a beat, frantic even though she knew the answer without needing even a second to think. Although she had never seen his face, she knew that she had indeed found a man with stars in his eyes.

“Yes. I found you.”

He released a soft breath- almost a gasp of surprise, like he couldn’t believe she felt this way for him.

“Every hardship that’s happened in my life led me straight to you,” Omera continued. “And I don’t regret any of it because meeting you… being with you…” She smiled more, admiring the Mandalorian in the darkness. “It’s made me so much stronger. I’m sure Grogu feels the same.”

When he spoke, his voice sounded fragile, “You’ve made me stronger, too.”

His mission with Ahsoka was a rousing success.

The townspeople were freed of their oppressive government, Ahsoka was free to do as she pleased, and to top it all off, he now had a spear of full beskar to add to his assortment of weapons on board the Crest.

But, it was the end. The Jedi wanted to see the Child, and she would take him to train him in the ways of their kind.

Slowly, Din climbed the ramp up to check on the sleeping boy. Once he stood in the cargo hold, he discovered that Omera and Winta sat out waiting for his return.

Omera had a sorrowful look in her eyes that Winta mirrored.

“Is it done?” Omera asked.

He nodded his head once. “I need to bring him to her now.”

His stomach twisted sourly. If this was goodbye, he needed to make it quick. They’d both get over this, in time.

“Winta, let’s go sit in the cockpit,” Omera suggested quietly. She seemed so aware of what he needed: time alone with the kid.

Without needing any other push, Winta and Omera went up the ladder to the cockpit, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts and the child he’d fought to protect time and time again.

Din approached the hammock and realized he couldn’t be upset when he found that he was still asleep. He nudged the hammock, trying to wake him peacefully.

“Wake up, buddy,” he murmured. “It’s time to say goodbye.”

Grogu stirred, his eyes opening briefly, but sleep found him again, and Din sighed softly with a smile on his lips.

Eventually, Grogu whined and Din took the opportunity to lift him into his arms. Leaning back against the nook, he stared down at his son. Grogu took his finger and held it. His eyes opened a little bit more this time.

“Hey, Grogu.” Din grinned when Grogu’s ears perked at the sound of his name. “Hey, kid.”

Grogu hummed and his eyes slid shut, but Din didn’t begrudge him for wanting more rest. Instead, he held his son tighter and wished that the moment could last longer.

After a couple of minutes that stretched into dozens more, Grogu finally flexed his fingers into his palms and opened his eyes once more.

“You ready now, buddy?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I promised I’d take you to a Jedi… so, that’s what I’m gonna do. Okay?”

The Child stared at him blankly.

“You don’t belong with me. You belong with your kind.” It felt like a lie. “It’s time to go.”

He brought the Child away from the sleeping nook slowly. Stopping at a nearby crate, he prepared him for the small journey to town. Fussing over him seemed to come naturally, he mused, and he began to wonder if it was instinct.

Just as he was about ready to take Grogu back to Ahsoka, he turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. It seemed he didn’t need to go back to town after all.

Din lifted the Child into his arm again and allowed him to hold onto two of his fingers as he descended the ramp to get closer to the Jedi.

“You’re like a father to him,” Ahsoka said gently. With a deep, steadying breath, she looked from Grogu and back up at Din. “I cannot train him.”

He hadn’t come all this way to hear such a thing, but there was hope that beat idly within him anyway. Maybe, if she just saw the kid do one more Jedi thing. Maybe if he could show her what he did to the Mudhorn...

“You made me a promise, and I held up my end.”

Ahsoka’s gaze shifted to Grogu and she took a few steps forward as she thought about something. She reached out to rub a finger over the Child's.

“There is one possibility. Go to the planet Tython.” She looked up at Din. “There you will find the ancient ruins of a temple that has a strong connection to the Force. Place Grogu on the seeing stone at the top of the mountain.”

“Then what?”

“Then Grogu may choose his path. If he reaches out through the Force, there’s a chance a Jedi may sense his presence and come searching for him.” The Jedi folded her arms against her chest. “Then again, there aren’t many Jedi left.”

Grogu babbled sadly.

She looked up at Din again, as if she could sense something. Her gaze shifted once more, to the ship just beyond him. Turning, he saw Omera standing at the top of the ramp on her own, watching the exchange.

“Thank you.”

Ahsoka took a step backwards, away from the Crest, and lifted a hand. “May the Force be with you.”

Din held Grogu just a little bit tighter as he turned away from Corvus and the Jedi on the ground. Omera gave him a tender smile and reached out to touch his arm as the door sealed itself shut.

“Guess there’s still at least one more stop. Tython.”

She nodded. “I heard.”

Together, he and Omera made their way back up to the cockpit of the Razor Crest. In silence and with a comfortable ease, he settled Grogu into Winta’s open arms and climbed into the pilot’s chair to begin preparations for takeoff.

They would have one more stop on this journey. It almost seemed like it would never end, but part of him was glad that they had more time.

Fear of the unknown path ahead of him could be pushed aside for a few more days, until the Jedi came for the kid. Then, Din would have to decide where the path was and what he would do next.

Once they broke the atmosphere into space, he heard Omera shift. Her chair squeaked just a little as it pivoted.

“Winta, would you please take Grogu with you down below? I need to talk to Din.”

His heart leapt. She wanted to speak with him alone? What for?

He turned around to face his passengers. Omera nodded gently to her daughter, silently asking her to leave. The girl stood to her feet with Grogu tucked beneath her arms and stepped out of the cockpit.

Once the door slid closed behind the children, Din focused on Omera.

“What’s going on?”

In her eyes, he saw something he’d seen a few times before: her secret.

She was interrupted by Winta the last time she almost told him. Now, they wouldn’t have any interruptions.

“I said I would tell you something when we found the Jedi. Can I tell you now?”

He swallowed the freshly formed lump in his throat and nodded just barely enough to be registered.

“Yes.”

Omera sat forward in her seat with her hands clasped together in her lap. She seemed confident, but at the same time, he saw nervousness in the way she breathed. She silently debated what to say before speaking, and when she did, she kept her focus on him.

“I’ve wanted to tell you since you came to Sorgan, but I keep getting tongue tied.” A soft, tender look filled her features. “I’m expecting a baby.”

His heart leapt and his stomach lurched. “You’re…”

She straightened out in her seat and settled her hand against her midsection, revealing to him a gentle swell of her belly.

How had he not noticed? How had he not noticed?

Looking away from her hand over her body, Omera met his gaze once more.

“Ahsoka told me that she could feel him in the Force.” An excited smile spread wide, crinkling beside her eyes with the purest form of joy. “She said it’s a boy. He’s healthy and strong.”

A baby. A boy. Omera was pregnant.

How had he not noticed?

Din felt almost lightheaded as the brunt of the reality of it hit him with full force. She had been with him for a few weeks and hadn’t uttered a word about it to him.

Should he be offended? Concerned? Angry? Happy?

How the hell had he not noticed?

Moments from their time traveling together flashed through his mind one after the next. Near-death experience after near-death experience. Danger after danger. Fight after fight.

Guilt cascaded over him in a hard wave.

Omera’s smile faded as time ticked on. “I know it must be surprising for you to learn. I was surprised when I found out, too. I didn’t think I’d get the opportunity to have another child. He’s already changed my life so much.”

As much as he wanted to be happy for Omera as her friend, there were so many darker thoughts in the way of that. He was angry that he’d put her into situations that were so risky. Angry that she hadn’t told him the truth beforehand.

Angry at the betrayal he felt for loving someone who didn’t feel the same. There wasn’t any chance that he had anything to do with her child after only one night with her. There must have been someone else. Right?

He closed his eyes and his head fell. He didn’t know how to ask her if she was committed to another without breaking his own heart.

“Is…” He paused, hating the way his voice cracked. “Is it... mine?”

“Oh,” she gasped out of surprise, “Din, yes, of course.” Her voice was breathless, weighed down with a sense of relief. “How could I have been with someone else?”

His heart rate doubled at her admission. She hadn’t been with another. He was the one Winta had told him about on Trask: the one her heart chose. It wasn’t a surprise to him, but it did fill in some of the uncertainties he felt.

“Omera, you could’ve been hurt. You could’ve…”

His chest began to heave. The thought of losing Omera hurt more than even the thought of losing Grogu.

“I knew what I was getting into coming with you, Din.”

“I know, but I didn’t know that you were-” Din cut himself off when he realized his voice was raised. He sighed heavily. “I put you in danger.”

She shook her head swiftly. “I don’t blame you for any of it. We’re all okay.”

He couldn't shake the anger off of him for putting her in danger. It had been part of the agreement when she came along, but she hadn't told him ahead of time about her child. He could've done more to keep her safe.

“When we were still on Sorgan, you could have told me.”

Omera's focus went to her lap for a moment. “I didn’t know if telling you would’ve made you want to stay. I didn’t want it to force you to. You are on a path with Grogu to find his kind. A path I wasn’t on until you asked me to come with you.”

His chest began to ache when he realized just how much she cared for him. Without knowing how he felt for her, he imagined it would have been difficult to admit her secret to him. Allowing him to continue on his path for the Jedi had been a selfless act, even if it may have been a shortsighted one.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” There was a worried frown on her lips and her eyes were filled with sorrow and regret, but she didn’t beg or plead. “If this changes how you feel about me, about our future… I understand. I haven’t been honest with you.”

Suddenly, she stood up in front of him. She took one of his hands into hers and settled it over her middle. He could feel the curve of her body. It was so very real.

His breath caught in his throat. He felt hot, as if the armor he wore was suffocating him, but it was the only thing keeping him from absolutely breaking down.

“This child is yours. If you want him.”

At her words, the weight of the day came crashing down on him. He’d almost had to let go of the kid, and now he had so much more than he thought he’d ever be given.

Somehow, he’d been given Omera. Beautiful, kind, gentle, Omera. And after just one night together, he’d been given a child. His own flesh and blood. A boy, if the Jedi was right. His son.

“If not…” Omera managed a weak smile and lifted a shoulder. “That’s okay. Winta and I can return to Sorgan. I’ll keep the baby safe and he’ll be loved. You can visit if you want to.”

Din stared at her from behind the haze of his visor and suddenly, it felt like he was playing a game. Wearing his armor in front of Omera felt like a child’s game. What purpose did it serve him to cover his face from her?

She was his equal. The one his heart belonged to. The one who carried his child.

If there were Mandalorians who didn’t need to wear their helmets in order to stay faithful to the creed, he could bend the rules and step across the line for Omera. Of everyone in the universe, she deserved to know him wholly.

He pulled his hand away from her body and decisively stood so that they were on equal footing. She stared up at him with an edge of uncertainty in the depths of her eyes.

The last thing he wanted was for her to be unsure about how he felt about her, or about their future.

Din settled both hands on either side of his helmet. Slowly, he lifted it from his head and lowered it to rest on the console beside him.

With the helmet removed, he could breathe freely. Cool air entered his lungs through his nose in deep, steady breaths that he forced himself to take.

All at once, he felt just as terrifyingly bare and exposed as he had on Nevarro with the IG unit. Anxious and self-conscious thoughts flooded his mind, but he quieted them when his focus settled on her.

Somehow, she was more beautiful to him, seen without obstruction. He could see more clearly the roundness of her belly, a sign of his child growing within her, and cursed himself again for not seeing it any sooner.

Omera seemed overwhelmed by his choice to remove his helmet- just as much as he was. Unshed tears gathered in her eyes and the softest gasp escaped her parted lips.

“I love you, Omera.” His voice was barely a whisper. It embarrassed him, how fragile he sounded, but she could see him as he was, truly, and it was everything all at once.

Hesitantly, she reached out for him with one hand. Her fingers were cool when they ever so softly grazed his cheek and his eyes shut instantly at the feeling. Invisible sparks lit up on his skin like fireworks that made his heart jump in surprise.

Slowly, her fingers slid upwards, until her palm rested over his cheek, and he leaned his weight into her hand. He opened his eyes again to meet her gaze.

Omera tilted her head and offered him a tender smile, just as fragile as he felt. “I love you too, Din.”

As if she knew it was too much to handle all at once, she lowered her hand away from his face and settled it against her middle instead.

Everything felt different. Everything felt new. Changed. The world he’d made for himself had been shattered in the best, most terrifying way. He and Omera were going to have a baby. They were going to be a family.

He took a moment to admire her, each pretty eyelash, every freckle, each breath she took that lifted her chest. It was different, in a good way, seeing her so freely.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you need anything? Do you feel sick?”

Omera laughed out of surprise. “No, I’m fine.” She soothed a hand over her bump. “The worst of the sickness is over.” With a soft sigh, she added, “I feel so much better now that you know, too.”

There would be so much that they’d have to decide. Where they would go. What they would do next. How they would raise the kids. But all he could think about was her, and how he wished he could give her the entire universe.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

He shook his head, unsure what she meant. “About what?”

“This is a lot all at once… I would understand if you were overwhelmed.” She drew in a breath and averted her gaze, looking instead at the floor. “The day you left Sorgan, I thought it might have been partly because of me… because you weren’t sure what to do-”

He settled his hands over her hips and Omera timidly peered up at him.

“It is the Way to have a family,” Din told her. “Children are important. I didn’t think I’d ever have any of my own, though. It’s easier to travel alone.”

She nodded in understanding. Hope shined in her eyes brighter than it had before. “It was meant to be.” Her smile spread. “I’m so excited to meet him. I think he’ll be a lot like you.”

He felt his eyes grow wide with even the thought. It was hard to wrap his mind around the idea of what their child would look like, or act like. It was different for Omera. She’d had the experience with Winta and knew what to expect.

“I hope he’s more like you. Not me.”

Omera tilted her head with an affectionate smile. “We’ll see soon enough.”

His hands shifted on her hips and he squeezed as his thoughts shifted to the path that laid ahead of them. The Jedi had told him to take Grogu to Tython. Could he do that now? Did Omera want to do that now?

“Should we go back to Sorgan?” he asked. “If Gideon’s after the kid, it’s dangerous traveling with me.”

Omera frowned. She pressed both hands against his heart and he reached up to hold each hand, almost instinctively.

“We found the Jedi, but the journey isn’t over.”

“No.” He searched her eyes and thought about the way Grogu had so easily accepted Omera into his life. “You’re like a mother to him.”

“I know. I’ve felt it too.” Omera softened some. “If you want to take us to Sorgan, we’ll be alright waiting for you to come home to us.”

Home. He’d had to find his home on the Razor Crest the past few months, with the kid. Now, he’d have to figure out what home looked like with Omera, Winta, and, eventually, a newborn.

Overwhelmed, he lowered the crown of his head to hers and shut his eyes. She reached up to the back of his head and threaded her fingers through his hair, her fingernails scraping lightly against his scalp as she went.

As he considered next steps, he knew that he needed to be careful, but Omera had proven herself capable in dangerous situations. She’d been an active participant in several fights, eager to help in whatever way she could, all while secretly pregnant. He’d become stronger because of her help. Together, they were a powerful team.

If what Ahsoka told him was the final step in finding a Jedi that could train Grogu, there wouldn’t be much left to their journey. And if Gideon was out there, they could work together to protect what was theirs.

“You should come with us,” he told her. “Grogu would like that.”

“And when it’s over, what will we do?”

He shook his head. “We’ll… figure it out. We’ll be a family. All of us. If that’s what you want.”

Din pulled back from her just enough to meet her eyes. She lowered her palm to his face again and caressed his cheek with her thumb.

“I want that very much.”

It filled him with so much hope knowing that she loved him.

“Me too.”

A happy smile found her lips. “I'm glad.”

Their eyes locked in a way that they hadn’t since that night on Sorgan, with a silent fire burning within each of them. He couldn’t help the thought that came to him next: he could kiss her if he wanted to.

He had never kissed anyone in his life, but something about the moment made it feel right. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.

It almost felt like time itself slowed to a stop. Maybe it did. Just for them.

Pulling back, he kept his eyes shut and put his forehead against hers. Omera’s hand gently found his neck.

“You have given me so much,” she murmured with regret in her tone. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your creed as well. I never saw your face. Put your helmet back on.”

Din shook his head. He pulled away so their eyes could meet. “I want you to know me like this.”

Omera still seemed hesitant. Her fingers caressed his face, running over the curves and lines of him as if she wanted to memorize what he looked like. Each touch felt like a reviving spark that lit his heart up with the brightest light.

She pulled her hand from his face when she was done.

“There was a time I believed I would have been content never seeing your face.” Her dimples popped when she smiled at him. “But I’ll admit that I’m thankful I know who you are beneath.”

His heart leapt. “Does it give you hope that our child won’t be a monster?”

Omera’s gaze fell to her middle and the smile on her face spread. She laughed and it was one of the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard.

“I wasn’t worried, but… yes.”

Din admired Omera again. She was everything to him.

When he lifted his helmet into his hands, it felt strangely heavy. He hesitated with it, studying Omera one last time unobstructed by the visor’s haze.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Having heard her voice once more, saying those precious words, he resolved that it was time to put the helmet back on, so he did.

He didn’t know what the future held for him other than what stood before him. The idea had scared him before, the uncertainty of what he’d do once the Child was safe with his kind, but now, a different fear found him.

Would he be able to live as a Mandalorian within this newfound family? Could he provide for them? Keep them safe?

No matter where he would find his path leading him, he could only hope that he would be enough for Omera. For Winta. For his child.

#mandomera #din x omera #the mandalorian #my writing #the edge of hope #it's time to meet a jedi!#this chap is aka: The Big One

16 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.14

God’s Will and Fate’s Jokes

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 2900

Summary: Steve is not the only man out of time to be found in New York, Manhattan. And he sure as hell isn’t the only one struggling with what he’s done and lost.

Warnings: mentions of violence, guns and death, swearing, a bit of a talk about religion

A/N: Ah, you want to know how the reunion will turn out? Understandable… So I’m gonna insert a Bucky chapter, with fragments of how he had been. I promise two little cameos from a Netflix TV series in exchange though, so hopefully I can be forgiven.

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

The wind was gradually getting chillier with New York City further diving into autumn. Bucky readjusted his leather jacket to shield himself from it, but it was just a force of a habit. He had been frozen – several times, as he remembered now – and cold didn’t bother him for a while now. This was barely ‘cold’. His boots shuffled on the pavement with each step, a noise that seemed to drown in the busy streets.

The evening was slowly drifting into a night time, but in Manhattan, the streets never really fell into silence, always pulsing with life, sometimes calmer, mostly rapid though.

Bucky shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighed, stopping in front of the rather tall building – then again, this was New York, tall meant something different here – , his destination.

His mind was preoccupied, for the millionth time lost in the past; for a change, not in his own.

The fact he had been unfrozen during the decades gave him an advantage of being able to keep up with modern times; and there was nothing that couldn’t be found on the Internet, especially when one knew where and how to look, maybe even peak where others couldn’t for the lack of access or ability.

Then again, Captain America’s life story wasn’t exactly a heavily guarded secret and Bucky couldn’t decide whether he couldn’t believe his eyes while reading, or whether he actually wasn’t surprised at all when learning what his former best friend had been up to after he (and the rest of the world, for that matter) thought Bucky was gone.

He had dived a plane which was about to level New York and other great cities of America to the ground. Everyone thought he died, but instead, he was trapped in ice; Bucky prayed Steve had been unconscious the whole time, not feeling the biting cold. Then, the proclaimed war hero was found and been woken up seventy years to the future, throwing himself into a fight as soon as it was needed.

And wasn’t it damn necessary – aliens attacked the Earth. Bucky now remembered seeing a lot of weird inexplicable shit. But still, this? What the hell.

The thing was, despite that, Steve’s life wasn’t all bad. He became a part of a band of superheroes and… the punk finally found his soulmate, the one he could never find before, because she hadn’t been born yet, which was insane enough on its own. However, he seemed happy.

Naturally, it had to nosedive after that; the woman of his heart and soul was dead.

Some nuthead – and to Bucky’s rage, a nuthead Bucky knew, he had been part of Hydra, which he now hoped didn’t exist anymore, because he read about Pierce being locked up along with others – had murdered her in the worst possible way right in front of Steve.

If Bucky ever considered becoming a murder machine again, after everything he knew he had done, it was upon that revelation. He wanted that man’s head. He wanted to tear him limb from limb. He was a villain, sure, that need was natural, but he had hurt Steve on top of that. No one hurt Steve and got away with it.

Apparently, the man didn’t, because he was blown up along with everyone in the building minus Steve.

Still. If Bucky ever questioned whether he still had a heart, he was sure upon that realization; he did have one and it bled for his best friend.

He wished he could be there for him, but he wasn’t ready. He didn’t know if he could even show up after everything his hands had done, no matter who forced them. He didn’t know if he could mug up Steve’s life even worse.

It was weeks now since he had been freed and his feet led him to a church – the one church where people said goodbye to Steve’s soulmate. Bucky had read about it too, her funeral; a small service for her friends and family, but many others wished to express their condolences, say thank you to the poor soul who lost her life to theirs and their loved ones and they chose this church to do so.

Bucky had figured he could pay his respects as well.

What he didn’t count on was the roller-coaster of emotions hitting him when seeing her picture, her smile radiant and brighter than the candles illuminating her photograph.

She was pretty, there was no denial. The photo printed was from Avengers’ archives, he read as much – Bucky had no doubt that it was Steve who put that bright smile, lighting up her eyes, on her face. He believed Steve had found true happiness with her and it wasn’t just because she was his soulmate or because Bucky watched the video evidence as she faced her death and showed great bravery and kindness or because he saw Steve’s desperation in the very same footage.

Bucky simply knew; the woman seemed to truly love Steve and that was all Steve ever needed. A woman to love him unconditionally.

Life was cruel and fucked-up to take that away from him.

No, Bucky didn’t count on the rage and heartbreak chasing tears into his eyes. Neither did he expect someone to pull him out of his musing.

“Did you know her, son?” an amiable male voice caused him to wince and mentally yell at himself for a dumb lack of awareness of his surroundings. Had it been a Hydra agent, Bucky would have been dead.

He forced himself to calm his sprinting heart, the rush of adrenaline unnecessary when the only person disturbing him was an old priest with nearly bald head and a soft soothing tone of voice.

His breath shuddered.

“No, Father. I didn’t.” I knew her soulmate, Bucky could have added, but he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself; everyone knew who her soulmate was and it would lead to uncomfortable questions. Instead, Bucky’s mind supplied him with an easy lie. “But she had her life ahead of her, all of it. She must have been happy with her soulmate if he made her smile like this.”

The shorter man nodded, removing a candle that burned out from the altar with her picture – Bucky hadn’t noticed before with many others still warming up the space with their tiny flickering flames.

“Indeed. And she surely made him equally happy,” the priest hummed, sorrow darkening his face. His eyes carried a hint of curiosity, watching Bucky inconspicuously. ”It’s a shame for such joy to be stolen by madmen. Her soulmate… I pray for him as much as I do for her soul. Broken heart heals much longer than broken bones.”

No shit. Especially when it comes to supersoldiers with enhanced healing.

“Not wrong there,” Bucky whispered, hesitantly reaching out to the small metal basket with candles and a thin piece of wood to borrow the flame from another.

Bucky didn’t believe in God for almost seventy years now. Still, when the wick caught fire, he sent a silent prayer for both Steve and his gal.

“Still, you seem troubled by more than that,” the priest whispered and made a kind offer. “You could confide me in. It is what I am here for. Perhaps it would ease your sorrow.”

I don’t think so. Neither will it ease the craving after tearing a dead man’s head off.

“I don’t think you could help, Father, no offence. I’ve never been a good Catholic and lately even less so. And you sure don’t want to hear what troubles me.”

Despite a gentle nod of understanding, he nudged Bucky once more. At the very same moment, the soldier could hear the heavy door of the church open a crack and a man walk in with a periodic taping of a thin stick.

“I only wish to help you. If something of what you possibly have done heavies you… I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. I’m not allowed.”

“I believe you, Father. But I’m not sure your own conscience would allow you to keep quiet in my case,” Bucky admitted honestly, shifting under the presence of another man despite the fact he wouldn’t be able to hear them. A periodic tapping the man carried with him was getting to Bucky’s nerve already.

He should leave. Another lost soul seeking the help of a church was a good excuse anyway.

“Trust me, son. Whatever your sins are, I’m certain I have heard worse.”

“No, Father. You haven’t,” Bucky muttered under his breath, aware of the stranger getting closer.

He turned to him, surprised to find a man of such built, carrying a walking stick for blind. His stance and body was one of a fighter, even when cladded in a cheap suit, red-tinted glasses preventing his real thoughts from displaying on his face. He appeared blind but not quite. To Bucky, he was giving an impression of pretence, at least partial.

He could only wonder why; however, he could do so on his way out.

“I’m pretty sure he did,” the newcomer joined their barely audible conversation without permission and a scowl twisted the Father’s face.

The fact that the not-so-blind? man could hear what Bucky was saying had everything in Bucky scream fight or flight.

“Matthew. What brings you here at this hour?”

The suited man shrugged light-heartedly; Bucky didn’t believe him for a second. “I thought I’d stop by. See how you’re doing.”

“Always with the jokes, Matthew. It’s not decent.”

It wasn’t. Except if Bucky was more comfortable at the moment, he would have snorted in amusement. This man was clearly comfortable in his own skin, but the skin was a charade too. Bucky didn’t want to stay to crack the mystery though.

“Forgive me, Father, then.”

“Did you come to confess?” the Father continued and Bucky recognized this was as good opportunity to leave as any, making space for the blind man to approach the priest more easily.

A brief smile passed over the Matthew’s lips. “No. Like I said, only wanted to make sure you were alright.”

The backing out of the soldier was less inconspicuous this time, caught by the priest.

“You don’t need to leave, son. Matthew is a dear friend.” And there’s more to him than it seems, Bucky was certain.

Were his the sins Father had mentioned? This man’s? Bucky wouldn’t be surprised considering the dangerous vibe he was radiating.

“I’m Matt,” the man offered swiftly and held out his hand for Bucky to shake.

Bucky was stupid enough to accept it and really, wasn’t he out of his game to make such an idiotic mistake. “…James.”

“Rather hot for gloves, isn’t it?”

Bucky fought the urge to punch this man for pointing it out and took a deep breath.

“My past injuries can… make people uncomfortable when seen.”

“I won’t see them,” the blind man challenged with the light tone to his voice again, his head tilting to side and Bucky could see the corners of his mouth twitch. It gave him the impression of the man wanting sent him a wolfish grin.

And that was the time to get the fuck out. What was Bucky thinking anyway, showing up in here?

“Matthew… perhaps it would be for the best if we leave James to his prayers and have a talk over a latté, if you’re interested at this hour?” the priest offered in a conciliatory manner, beckoning to the back for Bucky’s benefit – or for Matthew’s too?

How deeply ran the lie, the pretending? Bucky didn’t want to hang around to find out.

“Yes…” Matt hesitated, but nodded. “Perhaps. James.”

“Matt. Father.”

Bucky strode between the two lines of the pews, kind words reaching his sensitive ears.

“My invitation still stands, if you ever feel like talking. If you’re not comfortable confessing the traditional way… there’s always coffee. Same rules apply for me.”

Bucky nodded, definitely not planning on taking him upon the offer. “I appreciate the offer, Father. Goodnight.”

Since fate was a cranky bitch, a night full of horrors of the past had him wandering the streets before the sun even began to rise to the horizon.

The Father didn’t seem overly surprised that Bucky showed up again, at such ungodly hour no less.

“James. Latté?” he asked, unfazed almost.

Bucky wanted to question his decision. But he was an old man, older than the priest himself and he could believe his secret would be kept.

He nodded.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Opening to someone about the horrors he had lived through and had been a source of was surreal. No, scratch that, it was fucking weird and telling that to a priest was twisted and seriously messed up.

Yet, once Bucky started, he couldn’t stop the verbal vomit, his hands in his hair, tears welling up in his eyes and the hoarseness of his voice that seemed to be impossible to disguise.

And the whole time he talked, the man sitting opposite to him – not touching his latté either – listened intently with compassionate and understanding eyes full of sorrow and offering kind words and his own insights of a person watching the event from a reasonable distance, far enough not to get tangled in the emotional turmoil.

It caused Bucky’s breathing to turn so difficult that he thought he might actually suffocate, but he didn’t. He might be close to choking on his own spit though at priest’s forgiving words several times, words of redemption, a chance on it only proven by a mysterious man building miracles by a flick of a hand.

“You were a victim, James. Just like anybody else,” the Father explained his point of view slowly and with patience battling the one of saints themselves. “These are not your errors to carry with you like a burden. Forgive yourself. And allow your friend the same thing. I’m sure he could benefit from having someone by his side in a time difficult like this.”

Bucky gulped, looking away as he felt awkward burn in his eyes again, a lump in his throat never disappearing.

“I can’t. At least not yet, I’m-“

The sudden change of atmosphere was palpable, the safe environment carefully created by the priest vanishing at instant as Bucky’s instinct screamed about someone else’s presence in the church – someone else’s besides the God’s servants. His senses tingled, hairs rising at the back of his neck.

“Someone’s coming.”

Father Lantom seemed once again rather unfazed, his gaze shifting to his watch.

“Well, it is after six a.m., James.”

“Father-“ the soldier warned him breathlessly, otherwise rising to his feet soundlessly, sneaking to the door, opening them for a crack to glance at the newcomer that made his heart beat out of his chest.

One peek and he swiftly pressed his back to the wall, his head hitting it with a soft thud, eyes falling shut. Even with eyes closed, he could still feel the priest’s worried gaze.

“James?”

Bucky took a deep breath, arguing with his frantic mind and heart to calm the fuck down.

It was alright. He just needed to get the Father to cause diversion and he would sneak out, making no sound. He excelled at disappearing.

“Go greet him, Father. Don’t tell him a word about having me here. Please.”

The desperate plea was enough to light up a flare of recognition in the priest’s eyes, no matter how hard it made him frown.

He sighed, sounding resigned.

“I cannot do that choice for you, James, even if I wished. I promise to keep quiet.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, beckoning to the other man to move.

The soldier stayed aligned with the wall, waiting for the right moment. It was killing him, freaking him out and yet luring him in, a mess of emotions, memories and possible scenarios of reunion playing out in his head, ranging from a fistfight to a hug even.

He needed to snap out of it.

He wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Steven. What a nice surprise,” the priest greeted softly and Bucky barely contained the whine drawn to his lips. His hands curled up into fists and he bounced off of the wall, quickly assessing the most secure escape route. ”Do you require my assistance?”

“Not today, Father Lantom, but thank you.”

It was like a slap to Bucky’s face, a punch to his gut, hearing Steve’s voice; the melancholy in it and the burden he was never supposed to carry only making it worse.

For a second, Bucky wavered, faltering in his steps. His friend – former friend, still, his best friend – was right behind that door, needing someone and hurting and what was Bucky doing? Running away, like a coward?

“Are you alright?” the punk continued, expression concern for the not-exactly-older man and that was it. He caught a scent of something fishy right away.

Bucky’s mind yelled at him to get the hell out. His gaze returned to the door leading to a chamber and bathroom, hoping to find a small window. He crossed the distance in long quick steps.

“Yes, Steven, thank you. I simply have another troubled soul in the back room...”

Bucky slipped through the other door, finding what he wished for – an escape route. As he opened the window, taking care not to make the tiniest sound, Steve’s voice was slowly fading away.

“Don’t let me disturb you then, Father.”

By the time Father Lantom returned to the chamber, James Buchannan Barnes was gone. The priest only sighed in resignation; he more than half-expected it would come to that. He only hoped that the troubled soldier would find his way back eventually.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 15

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

So… am I? Forgiven? Please? I prooooomise the Steve/reader reunion will take place in the next chapter and it might actually be worth the wait ;)

Thank you for reading!

77 notes · View notes

afewmarvelousthoughts · 4 years

Text

Only For A Moment Ch. 44

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?

Warnings: Non-violent character death, feels

A/N: Who doesn’t want to peek into Bucky’s journals? I know I do--especially after the reader gave him fresh ones for Christmas 😘

Thanks to @wonderlandmind4 for convincing me that this wasn’t a stupid idea.

Tags are open!

Bucky’s Journal - Love

For once I can’t sleep and it’s not because of something horrible. I’m just happy.

It’s been a year since she slept in my bed that first night and never left. A whole year.

Never thought this could happen, didn’t even think about love or happiness when I decided to keep living—to fight back. Too hard to think about those kinds of things because they seemed so impossible. But here she is, still in my bed, sound asleep and happy. Or at least I hope she’s happy. I think she is.

This morning I made her breakfast, like the first morning we spent together. Y/N hadn’t realized the day, didn’t expect her to. I wrote in another journal the date so I’d remember (like I do everything haha). She had that smile on her face that scrunches her eyes, and her hair was all over the place from sleep. She was radiant--she’d roll her eyes if she knew I wrote that. It’s true though.

I suspected it for a long while but now I think I really know that I’ve never felt this way for someone before. Sure there were dames I liked, I remember some of ‘em. Good women, a few I even wondered about marrying--wouldda made Ma happy to see that. But none of ‘em came close to Y/N. Maybe it’s everything we’ve been through but I just don’t think it’s only that. There’s a spark in her. She’s different.

And goddamn she’s mine.

Bucky’s Journal - Present

Mr. G has been on the up and up. Says the fall always makes him feel like a new man even if it makes his bones ache. Wonder if I’ll ever be an old man with achy bones.

Y/N watched the shop and he and I went for a stroll in the park close by. He had his little motorized scooter, even though he hates the thing said he’d feel bad not using it after his daughter got it for him.

Told me in his old age he’s realized something he wished he knew when he was young, I’ll try to get it down just as he said it.

“Life is just a series of brief moments, happiness, joy, pain. We look at everything like a big portrait but it’s the moments that matter, in the end. We only have each thing for a moment. I wish I’d known that. I would have paid closer attention to the good moments and let the bad ones rest.”

He looked so tired after that, like the bad ones were winning out in the battle for his attention. I wanted to tell him I knew, understood what it was like to have so many bad ones that it’s hard to focus on the good but he thinks I’m young enough to be his grandson. Seems strange to say I understood.

But he’s right. All these journals all this time spent just trying to catch even a fraction of a moment I’d forgotten. Piecing myself back together with them, bringing myself back to life with nothing but moments. I know how valuable they are, but the bad ones they matter too, can’t let them rest.

Bucky’s Journal - Future

I wonder what our future could be. It’s hard to imagine too far ahead. Just not knowing what may be right around the next corner. It makes it hard. But she wanted me to think about the future when she gave me this. Maybe she meant just mine but there isn’t a future for me without her in it.

I just wish I could get an idea of what that would look like?

If this was 1945 I know exactly what I’d want. I’d marry this woman in a heartbeat. Take her dancing, maybe at that real swell place in Harlem--bet that’s long gone. Go to the pictures with Steve and Peggy—they would have been good together if they had a chance. (Hope he’s found someone.) Maybe try to get us a brownstone, always wanted one. Fill it with a couple of babies. A little girl with all her momma’s moxie and those bouncy curls—a little girl with enough backbone to make her aunt Jo proud and me worried.

But that doesn’t matter. Can’t have what doesn’t exist.

When I think about the future now all I see is uncertainty. Only thing I know I want is her to be safe and happy—no matter what that means.. I’m thinking the first step is to move on from here. Been here too long, longer than I planned. I just don’t know how to tell her, don’t want her to feel like she’s losing another home.

Bucky’s Journal - Love

I fell in love with her again today. Is that possible?

She was baking (scones and biscuits, they’re some of the best things I’ve ever eaten I swear) wearing nothing but one of my tees—it had flower dusted on it but she didn’t care. Her headphones were in, listening to something she clearly liked a lot 'cause she was bouncing around the kitchen, curls spinning, body floating up from time to time, mouth moving to the lyrics, just smiling. That spark, my god it was just brighter than I’ve ever seen it. I think this must’ve been what she was like before—bold and confident and happy.

I almost got up and grabbed her, wanted to kiss her so bad but I just couldn’t. My mouth was dry and my right palm felt sweaty. Felt like a nervous kid just gawking at her. So I just let the moment play on until she noticed me. Took a while thankfully, she was so caught up.

When she kissed me she tasted like coffee and some of the dark chocolate chips she’d snuck while baking. She almost always tastes like coffee. Fuck, I love it.

This is one of those good moments. There are so many with her. But the more I have the more I know that a million moments won’t be enough.

Bucky’s Journal - Future

I finally told her.

Almost a year and a half in one place is too long. For now anyway. One day, hopefully, we can find a place to stay. To make a home.

I laid out that the longer we stay the easier it is for someone to identify us—didn’t say I really just meant me. Even with her record I have no doubt there are more people sniffing for me than her.

She’s reluctant to leave Mr. G. He’s back to his old self pretty much though. They have his condition stable and his kids are checking in more often. I haven’t met them, best to not, but she says they’re good people. Makes sense given who raised ‘em.

Ultimately, though she said home was where I was, she didn’t care where we went. I don’t know how I became such a lucky bastard.

I’ll figure out where will be best, safest. Or safer anyway.

Bucky’s Journal - Present

This woman. This incredible woman.

I’m sure she’s sick of me by now but I can’t stop telling her how goddamn amazing she is.

Yesterday we were heading back from the market and this piece of shit left arm just went ape shit. Couldn’t move it beyond weird twitching it was doin’ on its own and the pain. Fuck I thought I was gonna die, truly, thought it would stop my heart. Dropped everything I was carrying and doubled over.

If she was panicked I never noticed. It’s kinda fuzzy but she got me behind a building away from people and used her gift to try to figure out what was happening. I know I didn’t make it easy judging by how torn up my shirt and hoodie were, must’ve clawed at them—done that in the past I remember, tried to claw the damn thing off. But she found something loose that seemed off, shoved her belt between my teeth for me to bite down on and fixed it. Just like that.

Nearly passed out. Honestly not sure how she got me home exactly but when my head cleared she was wrapping my shoulder in hot towels—the muscles still hurt from the tension but would be worse if not for her.

I don’t know what I did right to deserve this one. But I’m grateful.

Y/N’s First Journal Entry

Bucky suggested I start this, said writing helps for the things you can’t find the words for. Maybe he’s right. I haven’t had a journal since I was 17. Keeping one when I was with mom was too risky and even after I didn’t want to write down things, it was like writing it made it real. And I just didn’t see the point.

Still feels like writing this down will make it too real. But I just can’t--I don’t want it to be real ya know? I can’t say this out loud either though ‘cuz if I do I think that’ll do me in, I’ll break and idk if I’ll get it back together. I can’t do that. I need to be solid for Mr. G for Buck too.

He’s dying. Mr. Goldstein that is. Fuck. It just… I’m just tired of losing people. I know he’s lived a long full life but I’m selfish I’m not ready and I just. Can’t.

This isn’t helping.

Bucky’s Journal - Present

She begged me for more time. She didn’t have to. I feel bad that she thinks she did. Leaving now wouldn’t be right, not after everything Mr. G has done for us both. Wouldn’t even dream of it.

She’s looking after the shop, I’ve been spending most days there too. Sure she thinks it’s just to be close to her which is nice but I think we both feel closer to him there. I try to avoid the hospital, don’t want too much face to face with his kids—too risky—but I’ve made it by a few times. He’s still him but he seems… smaller maybe?

I feel guilty. Hearing about his kids from Y/N and just seeing him. Kinda glad I didn’t have to watch my own Ma and Pa go but that means the girls went through this without me and I — well I just never thought about it. Should have.

New Years was last week. It wasn’t a happy one but we were together—sometimes that’s all we can hope for.

Thought I knew what the future would be but now… just can’t tell.

Y/N’s Journal

He’s gone.

He knew it would be soon and asked Bucky and I to come by. He said he didn’t want us to be there at the end but wanted to remind us to take care of one another and that we’d made this last stretch a damn good one. Said this wasn’t goodbye, in fact he said he wouldn’t hear it. He’d see us later.

He’ll never know. I hate that he’ll never know. Not who I really am not what he’s done for me for both of us all this time. I hate it. I hate that he’s not going to come in here today with a pretzel and coffee not gonna sit on his stool with Victor. Hate that he’s gone.

I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Other than my mouth just doesn’t want to work.

Feel like we’re both just stuck in our grief. Not withdrawing though. No. Just hard to put this into words. Out loud.

I suppose I should be grateful, happy this sweet old man took two weird people in without question. Not a damn word when I went from looking like a boy to clearly presenting more as a woman. Never cared. Just cared that we were ok.

I am grateful.

I just wasn’t ready.

His kids are closing the shop. Makes sense. They’ll take care of Victor too because we said we couldn’t. This is my last day in this shop.

I’m so tired of losing people.

But I’ve got Bucky. He makes me wonder if there isn’t some kind of god out there, maybe trying to make up for shitting the bed by giving me him—giving us each other. I know he’s hurting too but he seems so unshakable. I’m lucky to get to love him. I just have to focus on that right now. We have a future to look forward to and a promise to keep to Mr. Goldstein—to take care of one another.

That’s a promise I swear I will never break.

Tag List:

@bluegirlusa1 @l0kisbitch @tazzi-baby @disagreetoagree @woodyandbuzz20-01 @mooniightbucky @saundrasays @breezy1415 @alyssaj23 @mywinterwolf @wonderlandmind4 @fairislesheets @anamcg317 @buckaroo-barnes @jazztherebel @peachthatdrinkslemonade @regulusirius @auskitty @babyimp1967 @katecolleen @handplucked @stevehesaidabadlanguageword @darkdragonphoenix @issanitydead @thestorydetective @buckysstar @wintersoldierswhore @greyeyedsmile14 @watchoutforfrostbite @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @jewelofwinter @siriuslycloudy2 @hardygal69 @marvelousmeggi @jdoenson @gamorazenn @wildmoonflower @cutie1365 @demonlover87 @winterboobearsworld @this-kitten-is-smitten

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x enhanced!reader #bucky feels #bucky's journals

45 notes · View notes

glamrockmonarch · 5 years

Text

Wedding Bells

Present-day!Brian May x Reader

Summary: it’s a wedding! B!Reader and Brian’s wedding stort is finally here.

Warnings: all SFW. Fluff all around.

A/N: On popular demand, I decided to narrate what the weddings were like for both of our Original Timeline couples. Although I apologize for it if it’s short and not my best work I do hope you enjoy! ❤

The truth was, B!Reader was having trouble not biting her nails as she waited inside the car. They were already parked outside the church, she was going to come out and walk the aisle in a moment but how could she not be nervous?

She was excited, of course, because she could not believe what a wonderful start for the year! Having spent most of the previous year stressing over deadlines for her book and wedding planning, she was now about to tie the knot and once she was back from her honeymoon with Brian she was coming home to the release of her book. Hopefully, the first of many…

So where were these nerves coming from? It might have had something to do with the reporters outside the church. The paps waiting outside of her home for the last few weeks were just relentless.

She was not anxious about the things people would write online, she knew the fans of her soon-to-be husband were supportive of their relationship. She was having trouble with the thought of her picture appearing everywhere online, on the papers the next morning. She did not want to be known as Brian May’s super young partner, which the media so senselessly had been doing for almost two years now.

“Everything alright?” Her father asked her, looking at her with the same unreadable expression he had on his face the day she moved out of the family home.

B!Reader remembered that day and then thought of the conversation she had with her father after she came home with the ring on her finger. Looking down, the ring seemed to shine brighter than ever. A delicate pink band of gold holding the squared diamond in the middle. She thought Brian had an exquisite taste when she first examined the ring, he would never give her some huge rock. No. Brian was too humble for that sort of thing.

With her hair falling over her shoulders in those long waves the hairdresser covered in hair spray, she shook her head lightly, minding the veil stuck to the back of her hair where the two strands of her h/c hair were joined from both sides of her head to make for a soft and delicate looking half-up hairdo.

“I wish they hadn’t found out…” She told her father and re-wrapped her fingers around the bouquet of flowers lying on her lap.

“Well,” her dad paused, “if they’re here, the least you can do is show them how little they matter.”

B!Reader frowned and looked back at her dad, thinking he was someone else.

“What?”

“Come on,” he reached for the door handle and took a quick glance at his watch, “this is your big day. My daughter is getting married, and no stupid reporter will ruin this day. I will not allow it!”

It might have been the bubbling up of emotions, or the nerves of the day, she did not know what it was, but she knew she wanted to burst into tears at that moment.

Her parents had never been too excited about her relationship with Brian, and her father had certainly never been shy about it… those words, although did not mention Brian, did show that he wanted her to be happy. That she mattered.

He stepped out of the car and looked around, people had gathered outside the small church to watch from a distance as the wedding took place.

B!Reader and Brian kept the guest list quite limited to their closest friends and family. Regretfully, Brian would not be able to have his own parents there, but he hoped somewhere in the universe they would see it and be happy for him; instead, he only had his son and daughters there, along with the grandchildren. He invited his closest family, some friends from college, scientists who were for sure going to speak to B!Reader and as always make her feel more than ignorant… she did not mind, it gave her and Brian something to talk about later when she asked why in the world were his friends talking about sonoluminescence.

On her side, she invited her sisters and her brother, her parents, a few aunts and cousins, and her small group of closest friends. The two decided to, of course, have their respective agents there as well. The only person she accepted to invite with a frown was R!Reader.

“She gets on my nerves, Brian!” She discussed with him once.

“She is Rog’s girlfriend…we have to invite her.” Brian reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah… he got himself a real piece of work with that one…”

Regardless, here they were, probably sitting near the front too.

B!Reader picked up her bouquet and handed it to her father before taking his free hand and pulling up her dress to step out of the car. Brian’s little grandchildren stood on the side with their mother, Louisa, who waited patiently. The little ones were soon instructed on how to hold the train of the bride’s white dress. The skirt that opened at the waist flew around her figure and she smiled at the kids, lifting her veil just for a second she winked at them and put the see-through piece back on its place as she intertwined her arm with that of her father.

It was another emotional moment that day. She suspected Brian had felt many emotions just a moment before when he walked to the altar accompanied by his youngest daughter Emily. With her dad handing her the bouquet again he tapped her hand that emerged from under his arm and gave her a soft smile.

They could all only hope for a bright future ahead. Mr. Y/L/N did not intend on giving up his daughter at the altar more than once, and B!Reader had never even pictured things going wring with Brian. They were both mature, and they understood each other even when they did not agree. The arguments were fierce, but both came back to each other a minute after. With so many different interests, they were usually taking part in something outside of their comfort zone. When one of them needed it, they would both stay home and have a break from the world. Brian sometimes needed someone to take care of him, and B!Reader never felt like he took her for granted. Nothing could go wrong, anyone could see how perfect for each other they were - even if the papers tried to bash them for the age gap.

Sticking her head up high, she straightened up and walked inside with her dad as they both shared the moment when the guests all turned to her as she approached the aisle. It turned out that although she smiled at everyone there, she could not focus on any face the one of the man waiting for her at the altar.

Brian stood there as tall as he was, in his blue suit, a rose on his jacket. He even looked odd with his white shirt buttoned all the way up. His eyes showed a strange gleam, tears? But he was smiling. Yes. There was a small smile on his face, lips in a tight curve, chin tilted down. She watched as Jimmy patted his father’s shoulder.

The whole thing was a blur, at least to her. After her father put her hand on Brian’s with a rather stern look at the man becoming her husband, everything happened too fast. It all seemed a little meaningless…a wedding in a minuscule part of the universe, B!Reader knew Brian would never see it like that, still; she could not help it but smile at him when they said their vows. If there was anyone she would jump into the void with, it was him.

At last, upon hearing that it was done and they were officially men and wife, she turned to Brian and the world appeared to spin at its usual speed now. It fell into place and for the first time, she turned to look at her husband.

“Doctor May,” she said slowly, with caution.

Her grey husband smiled down at her and they held one another to give each other their first kiss as a married couple.

“Mrs. May…” he chuckled to himself in glee.

Their guests all cheered and clapped, but really, they could not care much for it as they ended the kiss before it became something vulgar and uncomfortable to watch.

The couple was all smiles as they turned to leave down the aisle, smiling at their friends gathered there to celebrate them.

“I was a little nervous this morning. There were reporters outside the house.” She admitted once they were sitting inside the car taking them to the reception.

Brian held her hand in his, the two of them almost squeezed together in the backseat while there was plenty of space on the back the 1933 Bentley.

“That is usually how it is…” Brian sighed, “I thought it didn’t bother you anymore…?”

B!Reader leant her head on his shoulder and turned her eyes to his face.

“I don’t. It’s just…well, I wasn’t ready for all of that happening today. I guess I…forgot you are more than an astrophysicist…”

“Ah…” He turned his head to kiss the top of her head. “But they didn’t follow me today! It was you who they wanted to see…”

B!Reader put her free hand on Brian’s chest and giggled with a sense of guilt at her husband’s subtle compliment.

“You know what? I am not fighting you on this one. I am cute.” She stretched her neck to kiss Brian’s cheek. “And all yours now!”

Brian wrapped his arms around her and smiled. When in a thousand years could he ever imagine that he would have the chance to find the right person at his age! The right woman, young and mature. Pretty and smart. Adventurous and caring. Loving and curious. He just could not help it, when they had that conversation about marriage and she looked away at his words. He had said he would never marry again after Anita, and it did not help that she tried her best to hide it…she was heartbroken. Brian knew if he did not make a move at some point, he would just keep hurting her and eventually he would push her away, so he did what any sane man would do. He bought her a ring and proposed. Almost exactly ten months ago that day.

“Hey, Bri?” She suddenly asked, “have you heard Adam singing the song?”

“Oh, love!” Brian chuckled nonchalantly as he reassured his wife. “Adam’s blessed with that voice, don’t worry about it!”

B!Reader shifted in her seat to fix Brian’s collar, she spoke as she did so.

“It’s just…I was listening to it earlier and…well, this is just a warning, Bri.”

Brian looked at his wife through narrowed eyes.

“I might cry during our first dance.”

It was a perfect warning, as soon as the song began and Adam, in his beautiful pink suit, started singing with the band behind him, B!Reader in Brian’s arms let out the first few tears. With Brian singing on her ear she then decided to spend that first dance with her head on his chest as they swayed in the middle of the dancefloor to one of their favourite songs, in fact, he first song they ever danced to together. Doris Day’s “if I give my heart to you” in the voice of Adam Lambert.

“…And will you sigh with me when I’m sad Smile with me when I’m glad And always be as you are with me tonight

Think it over and be sure Please don’t answer ‘til you do When you promise all those things to me Then I’ll give my heart to you”

#original timeline #present day brian may x reader #present day stuff #present day brian may #present day brian may x young reader #b!reader #wedding #wedding stuff #brian may fanfiction #brian may x reader

72 notes · View notes

cheerioss · 5 years

Text

how to pop the question

hey so life's been keeping me busy lately and im still gonna be crazy swamped with stuff to do so instead of doing chapter 5 of the seamstress au like i originally planned, im gonna write this lil (okay i mean very very long) one shot instead!! this is based on this post by @buginetta i hope you dont mind!! and hope i didnt go overboard??

---

"Alyaaaaaaaaa! Help me! What if he's never gonna ask?!"

This is how Marinette found herself one fine evening after a long day at work. Eating ice cream, in her most comfy pjs, and facetiming her best friend while questioning her relationship with her boyfriend.

"Oh come on, M! You and Adrien are like, heads over heels for each other. Everyone can literally feel the cheesiness from 10 miles away," Alya dismissed quickly, trying to get it in her bestie's head that she has nothing to worry about. Typical Mari.

You see, Marinette and Adrien had been dating for almost 10 years, since they accidentally detransformed in front of each other when they were 15. They've been inseparable. Glued to the hip, literally.

And when both were well into university, Adrien brought up the idea of marriage. They both knew that this was it. They were endgame as everyone says. But Marinette, ever the one to think ahead, wanted to wait till their studies were completed and to be financially stable. Adrien complied, never bringing it up again.

Back to present time, Marinette groaned into her pillow. This happened countless of times before, so Alya was used to the sudden "over-thinking about non-existent crisis" calls as she calls them, OTANEC calls for short. Just Marinette having her usual of nonsensical thoughts, non-stop spiralling with a dose of crazy on the side. Ordinary stuff.

"If you really, so desperately want to be engaged with Sunshine already then you should propose. Really, you shouldn't have to wait for guys to propose."

"Omg Alya yes! That's a great idea!"

"Of course cuz it's mine."

"You're the best!"

"I know."

"Thank you!!"

"Yea, yea but you better let me in on your plan."

"Deal."

---

Two weeks flew by. Marinette was ready so sweep her kitty off his feet--mostly. There was still the pre-proposal jitters that she just cant shake off. She's triple checked everything. Twice! The location, weather(Please be accurate, I'm begging you.), all the itty bitty details. The only thing that can possibly go wrong is an Akuma. Honestly, Hawkmoth doesn't have a schedule or something. Heroes need their beauty sleep and as students their grades! (Thankfully there wasn't one. Thank you Hawkmoth.)

Tick. 6pm: Marinette's pacing. Tikki watches her from her perch beside a stack of cookies. She wishes she could help but Marinette's not gonna listen in her state of creating a road in her bedroom floor . The girl pleads for time to go by faster, faster, faster!

Tock. 6:09pm: Her heart is racing. She opens up her messages again and again, making sure he knows there's a joint patrol tonight. Everytime she sees his reply from 2 night ago, she sighs in relief. Only to open it again a minute later.

Tick. 6:24pm: Hands are shaking, her panic's awaking. Tock. Alya reassures her that everything is fine, but she's like a bomb in a mine.

Tick. 6.50pm: She checks her pocket, where the little black box hides. Tock. She checks again, her thoughts now violent tides. Restless, antsy, going out of her mind. Nervous, rapid breathing, her head's screaming is all she can find. Doubt. Dread. Doom. Oh why, oh why, can't it be just-

Ding! 7pm. The time has arrived. Marinette transforms and races out of the house to do her rounds on her half of the city. She finishes in 10 minutes, a new personal record. She couldn't care less though. There's the weight of her future in her pocket that's just suddenly so heavy. She starts pacing again, waiting for her partner to arrive. Oh gosh, he's taking too long. I'm gonna explode!

Thud. Chat Noir sees his girlfriend and his day just got a hundred times better.

"Wow bugaboo, I've never seen you finish a patrol so fast! What's u-"

But there's something wrong. She's a nervous wreck tonight, eyes impossibly wide with doubt. In fact, her finishing her patrol this quickly probably was the result of it. His cat ears flatten against his messy hair and his expression shifts to one of concern.

"Princess?" He hugs her, noting the way she tenses. As he tugs her down onto the rooftop with him, into his lap and still wrapped up in his warm arms, he asks, "Is everything okay?"

Two seconds passed, before Ladybug wriggles out of his embrace and begins her rambling. He's disappointed at the loss of her warmth, and he has no idea what she is saying as such a speed, but he has a fond smile anyway. God, I love this woman so much.

"And then you are here and look so handsom- Anyway, I have a question."

She pulls out the box, and Chat's eyes widens.

"I forgot my speech but the point is you make my life brighter and I feel like the luckiest human in the world." She opens the box. "Adrien-Chat Noir-Agreste, will you do this Ladybug the honour of marrying her?"

She never got a reply. Only a big, smug, I-won-the-lottery smile on his face, and he is bounding off in the general direction of... his apartment?

---

Ten minutes later, after a emotional roller coaster from confusion to heartbreak, even detransforming to ask Tikki to explain "Just waddaheck is going on?!", Marinette decided that he was not coming back and she was going to go home to cry about it over a tub of chocolate mint ice cream.

Just as she was about to say the magic words though, she sees a silhouette that she knows all too well jumping on rooftoos towards her. She held her tongue, waiting for an explanation for his sudden departure.

Clearly panting, Chat got on one knee and held up an open box. Marinette's vision blurred.

"Sorry i took so long, m'lady, but i had to dig this up from my drawer. Ahem." He clears his thoat and took a deep breath.

"Marinette-Ladybug-Dupain-Cheng. I have been waiting for the time that you are ready. Now that you are... You are the light on my darkest days, my hope, my life. I love you so much i cant express it with all the vocabulary in the French language. It would make this cat the luckiest man in the world if you would be willing to spend the rest of your life with this stray kitty cat. Marinette, Ladybug, m'lady, bugaboo, princess, will you marry me?"

With tears running down her face, Marinette tackled him. Both slipped the rings on each other's fingers, laughing as they shared a loving kiss. Adrien sweared that he will show it off to everyone he knows, even his fans on social media after a few days. Marinette just simply nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

"Let's go to my place to cuddle Chaton. I have a tub of mint choco ice cream waiting for me to devour in happiness. Don't worry, I know how much you love that flavour too so we can share."

And off they went to Marinette's apartment. Hopefully they remember to change some parts of their proposal story together before they tell anyone to prevent any identity reveals.

#mlb #miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladynoir

56 notes · View notes

secretagentspydetectiveninja · 6 years

Text

The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 61

Hey hey hey all you new followers! Do you happen to have like 10 years of free time? Do you like royalty? Do you love geography and history lessons? Do you laugh at reading about Kim being a total idiot? Do you thrive off timey-wimey nonsense? Do you ship Kimax? Do you irrationally love the minor classmates? Well if so, then do I have the fic for you! This piece of trash is currently about 230,000 words and still going, so check it out!

Here on AO3 too where you can read it from the beginning so that it actually makes sense lol

Once Max and Kim were well again, Markov was able to spend more time practising his new skateboarding tricks. Max also spent plenty of time upgrading him over the next few weeks, fixing bugs, enhancing his AI, and even giving him a little arm so that he could pick things up with it – and most importantly, give fist bumps.

For a while things seemed to really be looking up, especially compared with the dreary and dangerous previous several months. Everything was a little brighter, everyone a little happier. The atmosphere in the school in general was at a higher level than it had been in a long while. Sure, things weren’t perfect, but they were better. Was it because of Markov’s existence? Or was life just at a high point right now?

Whatever it was, by the time the oracle sessions rolled around, Kim was cheerful enough that he decided this time he would not change his mind at the last second – he was going to ask the question he really needed the answer to. Even if the answer would be bad, he could take it. At this point in time he was in a much better state of mind than he had been last year. It would be alright. And anyway, now that his kingdom was part of the International Alliance, surely it would be safe enough to return home soon.

It was Max’s turn first out of the trio, as usual. Markov had decided to wait outside, not wanting to interfere. It was sweet of him. He really did seem to act like a real human on the surface these days, even though he was far from it.

“So,” Master Fu said as Max sat down in front of him for the third and final time, “what is your question?”

Max had spent a long time thinking about it. There were plenty of questions he wanted answers to – how is it possible for a snake to learn Morse code? Why is schoolwork not so easy anymore? Will I marry Kim? But he couldn’t ask questions about others, and there was nothing particularly eating away at him that he wanted to know about. He had also considered asking a “stupid” question, like Kim had a tradition of doing, but couldn’t even think of one of those.

He sighed and simply went for one of the most obvious questions possible. “Will I die from old age?”

Fu put his hands on his turtle for a few seconds, then looked up at Max and smiled. “Yes. So there is no need to fear over poisoned chocolates anymore.”

He knew about that?! Well… he was an oracle, and though Max was not entirely sure how Fu’s powers worked, he did certainly know more about everyone than he let on…

But still, it was a relief to know that he wasn’t going to die off anytime soon. He had an entire lifetime ahead of him. Hopefully a good lifetime, filled with happy events.

“Thank you,” he said, starting to get up.

“How is your robot?” Fu asked.

“Oh, you know about him? Markov’s fine, thanks, he’s waiting just outside.”

“From what I hear, he has made good friends with everyone.”

“He really has! Bringing him to school was the best idea ever, he’s really thriving here.” Max tried not to sound too full of himself, but he really was proud of having created such a smart little robot.

“What an incredible feat you have achieved, to program someone so intelligent at such a young age, and in such a short span of time,” Fu said, stroking that little beard of his.

“Well, others have created sophisticated robots too, so it’s not that big a deal…”

“Would you say your robot is more or less intelligent than Alix’s pet snake?”

Max paused to think. What kind of question was that?

“I’m not sure,” he said finally. “Maybe around the same.”

“And would you say Alix’s snake has a near-human level of intelligence?”

Well, it could understand everything that was going on, and could win Monopoly games and partake in lacrosse matches, and kind of even speak. It was a pretty darn smart snake.

“Yes,” he said.

“So then it follows that Markov, too, is near a human’s level of intelligence. You have programmed a robot that is more sophisticated than any other in the world.”

Max looked down, his face feeling warm. “No, I’m sure there’s other – I mean, Markov is intelligent, but a lot of that is down to him learning things, and – I’m not–”

“You created Markov, a being that is somewhat more than just a robot.” Fu was smiling at him. “You have a latent gift that you never even knew about.”

A latent gift? He didn’t mean like… superpowers, did he?

“I just happen to be good at robotics and programming,” Max said. “Markov has the ability to act human and learn from his experiences, because I programmed him that way. Not because he’s inherently… alive…”

He trailed off. True, Markov wasn’t alive, but it somehow hurt to say.

Fu just continued smiling. “Perhaps once you leave this room, you should ask him why he skateboards a lot these days.”

Fu knew about that too? He really knew everything. But anyway, what did that have to do with anything? Max had programmed Markov to be curious and want to learn new things, so it would make sense that he wanted to learn how to skateboard too.

“Alright, I’ll ask him.” Max stood up. “Thank you for your answers.”

“You are very welcome. I wish you all the best for the rest of your life. And…” Fu held out a bowl. “Would you like a complimentary mint on your way out?”

“Thanks.” Max took one, then left the room.

Sure enough, Markov was waiting outside with the others, and whizzed over to meet Max as Alix was called into the room next.

“Max, my friend! How was your oracle session? Did you get the answer you wanted?”

“Yes, I did,” Max replied. “Master Fu says I’ll die of old age, so I don’t need to worry.”

“That’s wonderful news! I still don’t understand, though – how is Master Fu able to predict the future with 100% accuracy? Humans should be unable to do so, or at least not without a large degree of error.”

“It’s magic.” Max hated saying it – why couldn’t magic make sense, like science did?

“Oh, so like how Alix is able to have knowledge of the events of parallel universes without accessing a wormhole to visit them herself? Or those two members of nobility remotely controlling local weather?”

“Yes, like that.”

“Hmm. Magic is something that I cannot make sense of.”

Markov was silent for a few seconds, probably looking up everything about magic that he could from his internal database. There wouldn’t be a lot in there, though. No one knew much about magic. Max decided to use the time to ask about what Fu had suggested.

“Markov, why do you skateboard a lot these days?”

“Max, you programmed me to learn about new things whenever I am able to. Skateboarding is something I very much wanted to learn about.”

Exactly. It wasn’t anything special – it was just his programming.

“But also…” Markov’s volume had decreased ever so slightly, and he spoke a little slower. “I have already learnt a sufficient amount about skateboarding. Yet I continue to do the activity. There does not appear to be a logical reason why.”

He bobbed up and down on the spot, blinking every few seconds, the sound of his internal parts whirring so loudly it could be heard over the propeller. Clearly he was thinking hard.

“Skateboarding causes my CPU to work at a faster rate. I return to that activity over and over as if I am compelled to by my programming, even though that is not the case. I just… want to do it.”

That couldn’t be true. Markov spoke like a human, but it couldn’t mean anything. Robots didn’t want things. It was impossible.

“Oh!” Markov’s eyes lit up into exclamation marks. “I understand now! My behaviour correlates with what is typically seen in humans and other living organisms. I participate in this activity for the same reason that Alix and her snake do. It is fun. I… enjoy it. What I am experiencing is happiness.”

Max didn’t say anything. He simply stood there, staring at his little creation, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing.

“Max! Max! This makes sense! I experience happiness when I skateboard, and that is why I want to do it again. Oh – it’s happening again right now! Can you hear the CPU whirring? My system seems to be functioning slightly differently from normal at this moment. It is a very odd sensation. It is possible that my logic pathways are malfunctioning a little. However, this is preferable to my normal state. Now I understand better why humans do activities that make them happy – I also would like to continue being happy. I understand it now! Max, I understand happiness! I am experiencing an emotion!”

By this point everyone else in the room had turned to watch Markov, who was now zipping around erratically, his volume much higher than normal. Max was sure his own logic pathways were malfunctioning too – could this really be happening?

Could a robot really be feeling emotion?

Could the robot that Max himself created really be feeling happiness, right now? Just like a real human person?

“Max?” Markov floated up in front of him, question marks in his eyes. “Are you being affected by surprise? Is that why you are silent?”

Max just grabbed Markov out of the air and hugged him. “I’m so proud of you…”

It didn’t feel real. Markov was actually experiencing emotions. It was a fundamental fact that robots could not feel emotions, one that Max had never thought to doubt, and yet here it was.

“This is a hug, correct?” Markov asked. “My CPU speeds have increased again. You are making me happy, Max!”

Max blinked tears out of his eyes, aware that everyone else was still watching. He didn’t really want to cry right now.

“You’re making me happy too,” he said.

“I am? Good! I want to make you happy. Now that I know what happiness feels like, I want everyone to feel this way all the time. I will do my best to always make people happy.”

Oh, thank goodness. People were often telling horror stories of machines gone wrong, evil robots that ended up trying to take over the world, sci-fi stories set in the future where artificial intelligence became malevolent once gaining emotions.

But Markov was not like that. If he had a heart, that heart was good. He said he was going to make people happy, and Max believed it. Markov had already made a lot of people happy. Now it was just up to him to continue, and he surely would.

“Thank you, Markov,” Max said. “You’re the greatest robot in the world.”

Alix didn’t have any particular question to ask this year either. And plus, thanks to the whole timeline thing, she was very wary of asking a question that might get a bad answer. Maybe it was just best to get this thing over with by asking something inconsequential, and letting her life be the chaotic mystery it was supposed to be.

“So, what is your question?” Fu asked.

“Is anyone ever gonna correctly guess what happened with me and Kim in that lift that one time?”

Fu frowned. “Are you s–”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s what I want to ask, no I don’t want to ask something important. I already got my fair share of that last year, thanks.”

“Well, alright, that’s understandable…” Fu put his hands on Wayzz for a few seconds. “No, it doesn’t seem like anyone will ever guess… in fact, this is quite strange, but I can’t seem to be able to tell what happened either…”

“Yes, so the blood pact worked!”

“The what?!”

“Sorry, I can’t tell you.” She stood up to leave, taking a handful of the complimentary mints from the bowl without even being prompted. “If I break the blood pact, I will die horribly. That’s just how blood pacts work.”

Fu shook his head and smiled. “You are going to be one of the most interesting pharaohs to ever rule, you know.”

“Yeah, I hope so. Thanks for the answers.” She headed towards the door, then stopped just before she opened it, remembering something. “Hey, uh, can I quickly ask you something? Not an oracle question, just something about what you told me last year.”

“Of course.”

“Well you said last year that when someone’s guardian animal dies, the person will die too not very long afterwards. And that the stronger the person’s fighting spirit is, the longer they’ll last. So I wanted to know, how long exactly are we talking here? What’s a rough estimate?”

“There isn’t much research into it, but it seems to be two to three weeks at most. Why?”

Alix grinned. “I lasted a whole eight weeks without my snake in one timeline before kicking the bucket. Guess I must be awesome, then.”

Fu smiled, bowing his head. “Yes, you certainly are.”

“Cool. Thanks, and see you later.”

Well, there was a possibility she wouldn’t see Fu later. After all, this was her last year at school! But no… she’d surely meet him again, some day. She opened the door and walked back into the waiting room to see Max standing in the middle hugging Markov, and everyone else watching with expressions that seemed close to tears.

“Uh… what did I miss?”

Markov flew out of Max’s arms and over to Alix, little stars in his eyes. “I’m experiencing happiness! A real emotion! And I like it!”

She gave him a fist bump. “Nice, dude. I knew you could do it.”

“And did you get a good answer to your question?”

“Hell yeah, I did.”

“Yay! I am even more happy now!”

Jeez, Markov was so adorable. Alix had already guessed that the little robot felt emotions, considering the way he acted half the time, but it was nice to know that it was true now. He was just as much of a friend to her as any human was.

When Kim went into the oracle room, he had made his mind up properly this time. No more overthinking. For once, he just needed to be reckless and speak without any care for the consequences. Just like how he used to be.

“So, what is your question?” Fu asked.

Kim didn’t hesitate this time. “Will I be able to go home by the end of the school year?”

“Ah, I suspected you would ask that…” Fu put his hands on his turtle for a few seconds, then sat back. “Well, the answer is both yes and no.”

“Um… what does that mean?”

“You know about the timeline splits, don’t you? Well, another one is going to happen at some point in the future. In one timeline you will be able to go home this summer, and in the other you won’t. At present it is impossible for me to tell you which one you will end up in.”

His heart was sinking faster than a stone in water – all the timeline splits he knew about so far had been bad. He was lucky to be living in a good timeline right now, because on the other side were deaths, exiles, confinements…

“It’s strange,” Fu mused. “Timeline splits that so strongly affect people are rare, and yet they have been happening with frequency. Of course, there is a superpower that I know of that allows people to have some level of control over the splitting of timelines, and can therefore affect the fates of others, but such a power is extremely rare and I do not know anyone who has it…”

Kim sat silently, listening. Was it possible that there really was someone out there messing with timelines? But why? All it did was cause suffering.

“Anyway! On that topic, I have some good news for you too.”

Good news? Oh, thank goodness, he really needed that right now…

“You have much more control over your destiny than you would think,” Fu said. “Never let my words dictate your choices or give you a sense of hopelessness. The power of friendship can always help you out when you’re in a tough spot.”

The power of friendship? Kim had to hold back a laugh. That was so cheesy.

“I mean it. Being able to think better and more rationally around someone smart, or channel all your energy into action around someone reckless? It is not merely some quirk to be overlooked. It is a sign that friendship will play a bigger role in your life than in many other people’s. Perhaps it might even change your fate. Who knows?”

Okay wait, how did Fu know all that? That Kim always felt really smart around Max for no apparent reason? Or that being around Alix made him full of energy? So, was that actually to do with superpowers after all?

“Would you like a complimentary mint on your way out?”

Oh, right. Fu was holding that bowl out at him. Kim took a few, wondering if the answer he got this year counted as good or not. All three of his oracle sessions had been somewhat bittersweet.

“Thank you,” he said, getting up to leave.

“You are very welcome. I wish you all the best for the rest of your life.”

And how long was that life going to be? He had been optimistic about things, but now he wasn’t sure anymore. Those stupid timelines seemed to still have it in for him, and who knew what was going to happen?

Well, never mind. He would just have to make the most of things.

He had barely even left the oracle room before Marinette was standing in front of him, hands on her hips, an odd smirk on her face.

“Prince Kim! I challenge you to a game of Monopoly!”

“Uh, what?”

“Sorry, that was a bit random.” Marinette giggled a little. “I just want to test out a certain new strategy of mine, and I know you like Monopoly. Is that okay?”

Kim grinned. “Of course! But no matter what strategy you’ve got, you’re gonna lose, because I’m awesome at Monopoly.”

“Is that why you lost against a snake that one time?”

“Pffff, I totally let the snake win. But I’m not gonna go so easy on you!”

“Great, that’s just what I wanted to hear! Let’s go, then!”

A Monopoly game against Marinette sounded fun – more fun than against an annoyingly smart snake, anyway. They went back to his room together and then began to play.

Usually Monopoly games were long, taking several hours, sometimes even stretching for days against particularly tough opponents. And usually you could only get so far being lucky, before running out of luck alone and having to rely on wits and actual tactics. So when Marinette managed to worm her way into getting both dark blue cards within the first five minutes, Kim chalked it up to luck and assumed that she would start failing soon, like everyone always did.

But she didn’t.

Within a few more rounds she had all three greens too. Then the oranges. Kim hoped that the chance cards would save him, but all he got was a “get out of jail free” card while Marinette ended up with bank errors in her favour giving her extra money, cards telling her to go to the next train station and buy it for herself, and to go to Go and pick up her salary.

How was she so endlessly lucky?!

By the time Kim lost, which was not very much later, his mood was very sour indeed. He tossed his remaining money at her and folded his arms.

“Congratulations, I guess… but you got lucky, so don’t take this as me being bad at Monopoly or anything…”

“You’re right, I did get lucky,” Marinette said, before stifling a yawn. “Phew, I’m exhausted…”

“Really? From what? Building so many hotels?”

“Kim, I should probably tell you something.” She looked down at the ground. “I was cheating.”

“What? But how? I was the banker and I didn’t see you stealing any money, and the dice isn’t loaded or anything–”

“Let me explain. At my oracle session just now, Fu said I can control luck. So I was using this Monopoly game to test it out. Every time I rolled the dice, I wished for luck to be in my favour, and it was. But it cost me energy every time. I think I could fall asleep in two seconds…”

Wait, Marinette had superpowers?! All Kim’s annoyance left him instantly.

“That is so cool, Mari! You can control luck? That’s the awesomest thing ever!”

She grinned, looking back up at him again. Sure enough she was much paler than she had been at the start of the game, with grey bags under her eyes now. “I’m glad you think so! But please don’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret.”

“Thank you. And I’m sorry for tricking you into losing, I just really wanted to see if it worked.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. But next time you are forbidden from using your powers when we play.”

“Fair enough!”

“Are you going to tell anyone else about this?”

Marinette shrugged. “Alya, definitely. Maybe Nino. And… well, I would tell my pet cat, but I’m not sure if I’ll be seeing him these upcoming holidays…”

“What? Why not?”

She lowered her voice. “I’m not going back to Cheng again this time. It’s getting suspicious. I always used to split my time pretty evenly between Cheng and Dupain, and yet I haven’t been to Dupain in so long! I should go back there, at least this time, and make sure to keep the cat safe and beyond suspicion…”

It must have been hurting her so much to have to stay away from Adrien when he was in all that danger. Kim remembered how grateful he was to have all his friends around to support him when under threat of assassination, and how much scarier things had been at the start of summer when he was alone for once. It must be like that for poor Adrien all the time.

“It’s alright though, he’s got my parents,” Marinette said. “They’re taking good care of him. I’ll get to see him again – I just have to wait a little longer this time, that’s all.” She stood up, but quickly sat back down with her hand to her head.

“You okay?”

“Just a little dizzy, that’s all…”

“Is this because you used your powers?”

She nodded, her already pale face going slightly green. “Next time I’ll save it for emergencies…”

Kim leaned over and grabbed a pack of cookies from the draw behind him, handing them to Marinette. “I know you made these for me, but you should probably eat them now. Get your strength back up.”

She took one and took a small bite out of it. “Oh, that’s a bit better. Thank you Kim.”

“Shush, no speaking. Just keep eating.”

He made sure she had finished at least two of the cookies before allowing her to try standing up again. This time she stayed on her feet, though swaying slightly.

“I’m fine now,” she insisted.

“Are you sure? You should probably take a nap or something, you still look really tired. If you want I’ll take you to your room, or you can just nap in here if you really want, I’ll go do something else for a while and leave you some peace…”

“Yes please.” She staggered over to the bed and flopped down on it. “Sorry. I’m never using my powers that much ever again.”

Kim put the covers over her, turned off the lights, and closed the curtains. “This reminds me of that one time you dared me to eat a worm and then I got sick and you had to look after me because we were too scared to tell the servants.”

Despite almost being asleep, Marinette chuckled. “I didn’t dare you to eat a worm! I said ‘Kim, don’t eat a worm’ and then you said ‘don’t tell me what to do’ and ate a worm!”

“Well whatever, I was like 6, I was an idiot! Anyway, have a good nap. I’ll be back in a few hours. I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thanks. You’re an awesome friend.”

He smiled, then left the room and closed the door behind him. An awesome friend? Of course he was. He and Marinette had been friends since, like, forever. And now, here at school, he had plenty of other friends too. According to Fu, friendship was going to be more important in his life than for others, even enough to affect his fate – whatever that meant. How did that even work? Was it superpowers, or was it mundane? Did it matter?

#wow marinette is actually in this chapter for once #royalty au #miraculous ladybug #le chien kim #max kante #markov #alix kubdel #marinette dupain cheng #random stuff #aish writes #the misadventures of prince kim #maybe it's magic maybe it's maybelline...

11 notes · View notes

braindamageforbeginners · 6 years

Text

Day 42 (I think), Radiation 29

Folks, when you come down with a disease, you’ll need a support structure. And you have to recognize that, just as you have your good and bad days, just as you grow and diminish with the disease; your friends and family will do that, too. Which means that, just you’re gonna go a little haywire once in a while, they will, too. You can’t hold it against them, living with a physical reminder of mortality is a hard thing. You just have to make sure the good days in that relationship outnumber the bad.

I bring this up, because I had an epiphany last night, thanks to dear old Dad. Now, full disclosure, my father is helping me out both financially and physically, so he probably qualifies for some form of sainthood, so, my apologies to everyone if it seems like I’m distorting him - that’s how art works, you make something three dimensional into a two-dimensional caricature. I’d do better if I could, that would require film, not text. For full context, we had a blood moon last night (more on that in a second), and Dad was excited to see it (he has even worse insomnia than me). He noted that it would 2038, before the next one, and got cross when I mentioned that really wasn’t anything I was planning on seeing.the next one. I didn’t do it in some mean or Robert Smith-esque way (I don’t have enough hair to be Robert Smith these days; I’m having a hard time pulling a Kenny Chesney these days, even with the considerable power of a Stetson). He’s mentioned that he’s betting this will be the last time I see this thing. And, Great Kraken knows, I’d be only too happy to see the last of this thing, too. Here’s the thing; When you saw the first trailers for the third “Transformers” movie - hideous as it all was - was anyone really dumb enough to doubt that there would be a fourth one? Because I have a stack of medical studies showing a rather alarming pattern for people like me.

Now, I’ll admit, I have great hopes for the Warlocks and Mad Scientist to keep me around for a while; but no doctor - since 2010 - has told me I’ll get the same sort of lump-sum 60 years as everyone else. I might get that much time, eventually, but it will be doled out over 6-18 month segments. Mad Scientist - who has been eerily accurate in her predictions - flat-out told me that the best she could do was keep me alive and mostly-intact between treatments. And the Warlocks, even though they’re gifted necromancers, have told me that this is a multi-year, total-focus investment before any sort of results can be guaranteed. In other words, although I might be able to eventually carve out some sort of life, planning on seeing the next blood moon is utterly ridiculous.

Now, full disclosure; right now, I’m not really upset or frightened or anything at the moment; I’m mostly just tired (when I have time to feel tired, anyway). I am Mark Watney in “The Martian” - so completely invested in surviving to next week that I don’t have time or energy to worry about the week after that (and, as I’ve mentioned, being a functioning sick person today is a full-time job)(and I am not exaggerating that). I solve a problem or two today. Then another one tomorrow. Then the next one. And I try to tell you guys how to solve them. Dad’s still worried about next year’s changes in health insurance policy (and I am too, or I would be, if I had time to stop and be worried). And this is all just a by-product revelation to the big one; and, in order to understand it, you have to understand, Dad loves plans - loves them - and loves linear progression. I’m not going to bash him for that; all human beings do; it’s a fundamental part of the species. We are exceedingly similar people; it’s just I had a few cells do a few more unexpected things happen than him. Which leads me to the major revelation of the piece, reader, and you won’t like it (my apologies). This whole time - since my initial diagnosis last July - I’ve had the nasty sensation that I’m the butt of some grotesque cosmic joke. I’m just the set-up, dear reader; you guys are the joke. Sort of. Follow me on this one.

Now, my existence is far, far more precarious than yours, but I’d argue that the real psychological difference between you and me - on a day-to-day basis - is that I’m just constantly hyper-aware of the degree to which our lives are governed by complete random chance. To understand the full implications here - because this is Kraken Planning 101 - I need you to go back and watch “Back to the Future” (whenever you’re having trouble understanding the universe, this is my go-to starting point, but it illustrates the point), and then - with that idea that linear causality isn’t often so linear - go back and make a list of the number of times your life changed - even moderately - because your alarm clock died. Or a date canceled. Or you didn’t have money to go out with your friends. There are entire lives you lived - or didn’t live - because the wind was blowing the wrong way. If you realized how much you were at the mercy of random chance, you’d curl up in bed and never leave.

And, in that sense, existence - or your existence - seems utterly ludicrous to me. My gods, you people. You talk to bill collectors. You hide your emotions from one another. You put up with loathsome characters you despise because they might offer you money. You don’t go to the gym. You buy dinner for pretty people you hate because they might kiss you. You worry about what your friends or neighbors will think. And you do all of this in a weird, vague hope of a future that will never come, not as you can comprehend it, anyway. This isn’t to say that you shouldn’t plan ahead or cont on the future, but, as someone who’s already taken that bet and lost in the very worst way possible, trust me, it’s a sucker’s bet.

I’m not terribly happy right now, but I will say this - my life would’ve dramatically different if, 16 years ago, someone had told me, “Well, we zapped it this time, but it’s gonna come back in a couple of years. Go, now.” And if you start living your life in that time frame - without expecting to leave anything after a year or so - there is a strange sort of freedom that starts to enter your outlook. You don’t get the full human experience, necessarily, but, if you’re clever, you can get some concentrated ingots of it here and there. You can burn far brighter than you’d imagined possible. You don’t get to go to law school or plan a honeymoon, which sucks, but you get to focus on being the most concrete, focused, distilled version of you there is. And you will - I guarantee you - discover wild, amazing, scary things about yourself. Again, it’s not exactly an existence I’d wish upon anyone, but right now, I got three solid talents: I can figure things out very quickly, I am - historically-speaking - nigh-unkillable, and I can write exceptionally well. And that’s it. I’m placing all three of those on the Warlocks to win in the third race, and the crowd is cheering, and, yeah, there’s a solid chance I’ll lose that bet; but there is a weirdly exhilarating sensation to it all. And I have no idea how this will turn out, but I will write the shit out of every single thing that happens in the meantime.

And the writing. You guys have no idea, but you’re only just getting the very thinnest, smallest amount of output from me, because I have other stuff I have to do to stay healthy and solve day-to-day problems, but, this started as a sort-of hobby to help me work through it all. Now, there just aren’t enough hours in the day to get it all down. And I’m still not getting all this down in a comprehensible form - this is, by my standards, extremely unpolished and weird. And there’s a chance nothing at all will come to this, but, I will say this, reader - and I’ve already expressed this sort of sentiment elsewhere - but there is a bizarre, hilarious, marvelous, stupid, crazy, frightening story inside of me, and I can’t wait to figure it out. And I’ve said it before, but you have one in you, too.

The one great unifying factor to all human expression is that it doesn’t really discriminate, and we can all do it, with a few basic classes. People like Georgia O’Keefe, or Dickens, or Michelangelo didn’t accomplish what they did because they were paid, or because they wanted to - they did because they couldn’t stop. When they saw what was inside of them - what’s inside every single human being on the planet, really - they had to find out how deep that well went. It sucks that I don’t get to plan and scheme like a normal person, I’ll admit it. And it sucks that there are probably entire segments of the human experience that won’t be available to me, but, at the same time, I have absolutely no doubt that, should those things become important, I’ll be able to figure them out. And yeah, if I die in the next year or so, it’ll suck - believe me, it’ll suck - but the greater tragedy of my life, in retrospect, is that it took me this long to know I’m capable of that. Maybe. We’ll see. In six months.

Oh, before I forget; I did get up at 4 am to see the Blood Moon. And at 5:30 am. That wasn’t terribly intentional, but I figured I’d finish up the Temodar in a special way. Hopefully I’ll sleep somewhat-normally tonight, although I’m still on radiation. The radiation side-effects are unpleasant, but I’ll miss seeing the radiation folks. That’s kind of an odd admission, considering that my life should improve (eventually, anyway) once I rotate out of that, but they’re all sweethearts, and it does kind of help to have a set of friendly, consistent faces who’ll take song requests. Still, I’ll be only too happy to see the end of that wretched mask; I’m considering blowing it up with some sort of illegal fireworks or something. I’m taking suggestions on that one.

ANYWAY... WEIGHT: 221 lb. CONCENTRATION: Decent. I’m still completing complex tasks and stuff, but, as you’ve seen in this piece, I’m a little distracted and somewhat scatter-shot. I’m not focused at the moment, but I’m also exhausted and I’ve been running around a lot. APPETITE: Excellent. ACTIVITY LEVEL: Great, considering I didn’t get much sl SLEEP QUALITY: Excellent, but I’m still not getting enough sleep. COORDINATION/DEXTERITY: Not bad. Left hand’s having a tough time at the moment, but I think that might be more a result of pulling something in my arm than any neurological problems. PHYSICAL: Not too bad. I still have a low-grade suture head-ache but nothing that can’t be overcome with lots of Tylenol. And no temodar hang-over this morning, because I was up all night downing water and watching the moon. SIDE EFFECTS: Nothing new in this area. I have all the same problems I did a week ago, for the most part, but, sometimes the best you can ask when you have a disease, is that things don’t get worse. I mean, I have greater ambitions than very-slowly sort of imploding, but the current situation seems more of a three-steps-forward-two-steps back than a major backslide. But I could be wrong; neurological degradation is subtle; I do keep these records as a way to verify symptoms or progress.

1 note · View note

joakimlarsson · 7 years

Text

( @mscandystriper | cont. from xo )

Cage’s reply stuck half way in his throat. Over the past few weeks no one had been as thoughtful and kind as Hel and Joey had to them. He had no idea how to repay either of them and neither did Colleen, who he was relieved to see was coming around.

“I don’t have any idea how to repay either of you for all of the kindness and support you’ve shown us. You have no idea how much that means. My mother doesn’t know how to handle it and Col’s..well…Eileen’s barred from any sort of function we ever have. After what she said…Colleen’s cut all ties.”

Taking another puff from his cigarette Cage sighed. It had seemed just like yesterday that they were announcing their upcoming due date. He’d never be able to think of December 20th the same way ever again. Especially with it so close to Christmas, they hadn’t planned on losing their gift that day but they had. Come to think of it neither of them would ever be able to think of the projected due date the same either. Had he been born Eldon would have been an Easter baby.

“We agreed to start over again in a year’s time. Hopefully with some luck we’ll be a family of three in no time but that’s with fingers crossed. What about you and Hel? Any idea when you’ll be surrounded by little Larssons?”

Col and Cage had always said Joey and Helene would make wonderful parents someday and were always awaiting news of new additions to the family. Even now and everything they’d been through they still hoped that their friends were able to get back some of the joy they themselves had spread out into the world.

Joey could recall that particular incident with ease, because it had shaken the atmosphere a damn sight more than it had already been shaken, that day. He could never understand why —— especially someone of relation, would ever say something so cruel and at such a hard time. Of all the grief he had dealt with in life, nothing fully compared to that scenario and he wouldn’t be able to forget it anytime soon. For such a tragedy to have hit two of his nearest and dearest and then, something absolutely vile to follow it, he couldn’t fathom a just cause for it.

‘ I think you both deserve far more than what you’ve been handed. There’s so much more that you have to give and, honestly, it’s difficult to imagine you and Col as anything but parents. What her Mother said was beyond out of line and I hope she doesn’t show her face again, really, unless she is quite literally begging forgiveness. I just don’t see how a Mother could say something so awful about their Daughter’s lost child, ‘ a shake of his head && he was lost in his thoughts for a long moment, searching his head for some kind of reason as to why.

He found that even he couldn’t find the right amount of happiness since that horrific event, but he was always assuring Cage, in particular, because Helene usually went off somewhere with Col in trying to get the woman to go out and about for at least an hour every other day. There was no clear sign ahead that things would run any smoother, but all had high hopes for a brighter future and one that was filled with the pitter patter of tiny feet. The thought of children was beautiful to him, also, but he felt somehow that he should tone it down as far as recent and most unfortunate situations were concerned. The musician absolutely hated feeling any kind of guilt.

‘ ——well, she said she doesn’t want to even think about a little one right now .. what with everything that has been going on with you and Colleen. I respect her wishes, of course. I’m not much feeling into the idea right now; at least not for a little while. But, hey, maybe we could all plan around it and end up with matching due dates, ‘ he chuckled at the idea, because it seemed humourous enough, but neither Helene or Colleen might appreciate that.

#mscandystriper #( thread . ch . cage . )

1 note · View note

wmj-pillowtalk · 7 years

Photo

( INTRO PLAYING 0:00-0:15 )

“Yes, it’s this time of the week again, after a long week, let’s all take time to relax shall we? Isn’t it nice that the weather is becoming brighter? Though it’s still cold, seeing the sun peak out from the clouds a few hours a day certainly makes me feel motivated, how about you guys? This week I brought a friend with me to the show, she’s known for her powerful ballads and soothing voice, so I’m sure you will all appreciate her voice tonight as you try to sleep. Get cozy, grab your blankets and let’s take these two hours to really get calm, forget your troubles and just enjoy the music. This is Woo Minjun and you’re listening to your favorite, Pillowtalk.”

- Mino and Taehyun - Pricked

- After School - Shampoo

- Chaeyeong - It’s okay

“Can you guys guess which friend I’ve brought with me today? Ah, let’s have her introduce herself shall we? Go ahead.”

“Hello, this is Double Kill’s rookie idol, Chaeyeong. It’s nice to be here and I hope Minjun-ssi will take good care of me.”

“First of all, thank you for coming on the show, I know that we talked about you coming on here before, but your schedules are really hectic. Do you want to tell the listeners a little about how you deal with that? I’m sure a lot of people struggle with very busy days and would love to hear some advice from you.”

“Ah, yes! For now. I’m actually on a break, preparing for my next comeback and participating in small projects but when I’m promoting, my schedules can go from seven hours to an entire day and sometimes, it could be really late at night when I’m finally able to go to sleep or I need to pull all-nighters. Luckily, I have chances to take small naps, especially when we’re moving from place A to place B. Besides napping, I drink water a lot too. It surprisingly keeps me awake and so does coffee, which is not that surprising, ‘cause if peole know me well, I like to drink coffee alot. Anyway, I think the most important thing is resting. I always try to have proper rest after I’m done promoting the entire month and I try to recharge myself.”

“Mm, resting is really important and I think a lot of people ignore this fact until it’s too late, so please take Chaeyeong’s advice and try to rest as much as possible! This song is specifically chosen by Chaeyeong, and if you’re having any struggles that are on your mind right now, please take a moment to let them go while listening to this song, I hope it will help you.”

- Simon Dominic ft. Gray - Comfortable One

“Personally, my schedules have decreased since I stopped my schedules as an idol, and I feel a lot healthier, like I’m slowly starting to get myself back on track. I think it’s really important to listen to your own body and mind and if something is too hard for you, you can try your best to push through it, but in the end you know what’s best for you and you should listen to that instinct. If you need some time off from work, school or anything to get your own mental or physical health back together, you should definitely take it, you will thank yourself later and there is really nothing to be ashamed of. I see you nodding Chaeyeong, do you have something you want to add to that?

“I’m kind of the total opposite. Even when I’m sick, I will attend to schedules and try to show the image people are used to see. But I do, though agree with you. It’s really important to listen to your body and mind, figure out when it gets too much. Especially when schedules can be hectic. I think people who work many hours or people at school can relate to this, right? I should listen to my own advice. Rest when it’s needed, eat when your stomach screams you to notice it and close your eyes when your eye lids feel heavy. Also, talk to people if you feel like talking to someone. Those simple things can make yourself good.”

“Right, I’m glad you mentioned that, sometimes things get too much to handle, and having a friend to talk to about these things is really important. Don’t underestimate the value of having a friend, guys

I think it’s time for some music now, we’re talking a lot right? Don’t worry, just relax and listen to the few songs I picked out and we’ll be back again for our listener’s corner.”

- 못(Mot) - 당신의 절망을 바라는 나에게

- CNBLUE - When I was young

- Baek Yerin - As I am

- AKMU - Melted

- John Park - Falling

- Park Jimin - To him

- WINNER - Fool

“Hey Chae, did you fall asleep?”

“Why are you asking that when you saw me nodding my head to the music? But no, no I didn’t.”

“Good, if our listener’s fall asleep it’s okay, but you can’t fall asleep too, I need you for this episode. It’s time to read some of our listener’s submissions, if you’re new to this show, this is when you’re able to ask for advice and I will try my best to help out and pick out a suitable song for you as motivation. Chaeyeong knows this segment, she even sent in something herself on my first episode, isn’t that right?

“Ah, I wanted to keep it as a secret but, yes, yes I did to congratulate Minjun oppa of his first radio show.”

“Ah, thank you, Chaeyeong. You’re always so supportive of me, from the very start. I’ll start reading the first message, which is from someone who wants to go by the name Jun 21 years old, from Daegu. The message reads:

Hello hello, I’m a guy who’s currently studying to become a prosecutor, I did really well on my entrance exams so I’m actually studying at one of the top universities in Seoul right now. I feel satisfied because my parents are really proud of me, but I don’t feel happy. Actually I’ve always dreamed of being a singer, and I even tried out for several entertainment companies, of which I was accepted into a few and was about to start training twice. However, both times I ended up leaving due to my parents, they are really against me being a singer. I don’t know what to do, because I can study really well, but I feel like I will never be able to let go of the dream of pursuing music. I though that you may be able to help me with this since you’re also a singer and might be able to understand. All luck in the future for you and Pillowtalk.

“Ah, Chaeyeong, do you want to start with saying a few words for our Jun? I already hear that I recognise myself in a lot of what he has shared with us.”

“First of all, congratulations on doing well in your entrance exam! Ah, I really don’t know what to say ‘cause I have never been in a situation like this. I think you should do what you want to do, am I right, Minjun? I mean, your happiness is the only thing that matters and now, I don’t say you shouldn’t please your parents ‘cause they’re really important in your life and I think to some people, they are their number one supporters but later in your life, if you choose the path your parents want you to go, you might regret your choices. You might see idols on TV and start to picture yourself in their position. It might be hard to first go against your parents’ will, but later on, they will hopefully understand. Especially when they see their son being a successful idol and enjoying what he does. Always remember to make choices what make you feel happy and satisfied. Your own happiness is important besides the fact of listening to your parents as well, but to be in this industry, especially if you want to have a long career, I think you need to be strong minded, know what you want and stick to it. Aahhh, this situation seems to be really hard and I hope Minjun oppa is able to say something more comforting than I did.”

“I think a lot of people have gone through this, not only singers or idols, but anyone who has a dream that doesn’t correspond with what their parents want or think you should do. In the end, you’re the one who will live your life so even though it’s hard to go against your parents and ending up disappointing them, I think it’s worth it because you will be true to yourself and actually be happy with what you’re doing with your life. And parents will understand, maybe not at first, and maybe not in the first few years, but eventually they will since they will see that what you’re doing is making you happy, and that’s what all parents should want for their children, for them to be happy! So please don’t give up on your dreams. There’s always time to change your path in life, pursue music and if you end up not liking it after a while, at least you’ve tried and you won’t have to wonder what it would have been like. I wish you the best of luck too and I hope you will be able to succeed in whatever you finally decide in pursuing. This song is for our Jun, and I hope all of your dreams will come through. Hang in there, it gets easier, I promise. Now, let’s play a song for our dear Jun.”

- Insooni - A goose’s dream

- Zico - She’s a baby

- GOT7 - If you do

- Lee Moonsae - Girl

“Chaeyeong, do you want to read our next submission?”

“Oh, are you letting me read it? Yes, I would love to read it! This is from 20 year old Nana, from Seoul. Nana, what a cute name.

Hey!

I have never done this before, but I feel like I should send something in because I need to get something off my mind, and hopefully get some advice and a song dedicated to my issue.

I recently watched the Netflix serie “13 Reasons Why”, and it shows a lot of issues and situations that people can go through that is hurtful and painful. I could relate to a lot of things that the main character went through, thus why I am here now, to speak my mind.

I used to be very popular, and had a lot of people around me who wished to talk to me. Lately that has changed, as social anxiety won me over, and now I cannot even say hi to a stranger. It is getting bothersome for my friends, that I am so distant and avoid human contact, that they daily tell me to reach out and gain more friends. I struggle, because of past experiences like mentioned before.

So, with this in mind, I want to ask for an advice from you.

I no longer talk to a lot of people, the number of friends I have, can be counted on one hand. Before this happened, I pushed away a lot of people and told them to leave me alone. I should have pushed away a lot of others, and some I shouldn’t have pushed away at all. Now I struggle to reach out for people again, and the people I pushed away, get emotional and depressed at the sight of me.

I feel like I bother everyone, and that no one really want me around. Those friends I have, already are friends with those I pushed away, and I hear from them how they upset they get when they see my name or hear I am still around. Should I take these people into consideration, or should I reach out for others and gain new friends?

I feel like I am the blame, for bringing these people down, especially those who dislike me or hate me, and I do not want to bring anyone pain.

I know my submittion to you is kind of very long and messy, not really easy to grasp a hold of, but I hope you understand how my mind work, and why this is so difficult for me to express. I am trying my best, and I hope you understand, I really do.

I hope to hear from you, and I hope I get chosen. I love your show, and I wish you good luck with it in the future!

Love, Nana”

“It seems like everyone has been watching this show lately, I too started watching it recently and I think it brought up a lot of important issues surrounding friendship.

First of all, thank you Nana for reaching out to us and being brave to express your feelings in my radio show. I’m sure a lot of people can relate to these feelings of isolation and somewhat being stuck in an evil spiral that seems to be taking you further down. I think it’s important to remember that every small action has an effect, even though we may not know it ourselves at that point, but just in that manner, even a small positive action can change someone’s life tremendously. Some of the choices you’ve made must’ve been due to your anxiety I presume, and I know it must be really hard, and some people might not have been able to understand either.

Try not to dwell on things that have happened and people who have gotten hurt because of it, at the end of the day, you need to take care of your health first and while you may have not made all the right choices then by pushing some people away, there’s always room for a change. Don’t blame yourself too much either, a lot of the times, our judgement is shaped by past experiences and as you say you recognised yourself in the main character of the show, I’m sure you’ve been through a lot which would lead you to close yourself off from people and get scared. I think, the fact that you’re even writing this in, shows that this is a concern, not only to the friends around you who have noticed your restricted behavior, but also in you. People can’t really force on a change, you have to want it enough yourself in order for things to actually take action. I think a good idea would be to try to slowly approach people, not a lot of people at once, but start with just one. Maybe have your close friends introduce you to one of their friends that they think you would like, because that way you at least know the person indirectly and it might not be as scary.

As for the people you mentioned whom you aren’t sure of whether you should reach out to again or not, there’s a few things you could think about first to make it easier. What was the reason you left them behind in the first place? Do you miss these people in your life? I don’t think it’s ever too late to try again, if you’ve been good friends with someone before and only left them behind due to your own problems, with a little bit of explanation, I’m sure they would understand and take you back as a friend too. Chaeyeong, what do you say?”

“Hmmm… I don’t think that many people know of this, but I struggle a lot of talking with people about feelings and about life in general. Feeling like no one wants you is probably one of those feelings which everyone goes through, but it could be an assumption as well. And most of the time, I think people are assuming their friends don’t want them anymore so I suggest you to talk with people; your old and new friends. That way, you will get an answer to your feelings. That might sound cliché, but I have noticed, talking and solving things out helps. It might seem to be scary, especially to someone who doesn’t like confronting people or the topic makes you uncomfortable, but when it’s done, you will notice nothing harmful happened to you. As of getting new friends, I agree with Minjun. Gaining new friends is hard, especially if you’re comfortable with people who are already surrounding you but getting out more, meeting new people one by one doesn’t sound that scary, doesn’t it? And you can always drag your old friend along with you, or ask them to introduce you to someone. I also heard through online, it’s easier to gain friends, isn’t it? I hope everything will go well with you, Nana. And, fighting!”

- HIGHLIGHT - Plz don’t be sad

- BIGBANG - If you

- Jungkook - We don’t talk anymore (cover)

- Hyukoh - 위잉위잉

- Bevy Maco - Bad Dreams (feat. Summer Soul)

- FTISLAND - Because I didn’t know how to love

- Busker Busker - Cherry blossom ending

“Now, we’re sadly running out of time, but hopefully you guys have fallen into a deep sleep already. I’d like to say a thank you to Chaeyeong, for joining today, and for not falling asleep haha. And I’ll see you next time. Now for the last few songs guys, sleep well.”

“Aahhh, it was so nice to be here! Thank you for having me and I hope I can come here again. Also, I hope people will sleep well, I’m sure I will.”

- Day6 - Congratulations

- FTISLAND - Meeting

- Park Boram - Hyewadong

- IU - Though the night

#;pillow-talk #;pillow-six

6 notes · View notes