[ trench has always been a dreary place plagued with cloudy skies that only really shined thanks to the people— but falco sees color even in the shades. every day, for as long as he would be here (during the first two weeks of january), a lofty young man walks through the stalls of the willful machine, gaze and cellar door, through markets, archives and entertainment as if it were the very first time he was walking through them. oh, this food— these seminars! this dance! any friend that he is likely to recognize from his past, the older falco, shedding at twenty-six, finds fascination and is quick to take their arm in excitable companionship.
where you're now off to, you'll probably only find out once you get there, but he promises its close by. ]
B: ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜʟ ɪs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴠɪᴏʟɪɴ sᴛʀɪɴɢ
[ anna amarande's bar is a place with and for live music, and with at least a little more than ten years of experience, falco has gotten much more confidence to play an instrument in front of a group. he picked up violin when he was thirteen and hasn't let go of it since.
he tunes his strings, plays some simple tunes— until he settles on a composition to bring the heat of summer back to winter. with everyone warmed up, he gets a little more playful, bouncy and even fine down to smooth— he has a blast playing each one, with energy, with joy, with feeling, until of course, he gets to this one. ]
[ if anything, falco can also be found during some afternoons at the sanctuary or luminarium— behold, with his fancy (it's not fancy at all) blood cloak to work with those who need it— oh, you're here to give and/or receive blood? ]
I'll be your minister for today. [ and he looks positively thrilled about it, once he takes his seat. ] Do you mind if I give you a quick check-up?
It's very early in January - early enough that Ange hasn't quite realised that a year has passed and the shedding ceremony has returned. Early enough that the girl is caught completely off guard when she's walking the streets innocently, having no idea what's about to happen to her, until someone is already taking her arm.
She sputters, ready to defend herself, maybe shove a spell right into this person's face..
.. until she looks, truly looks, and realises she knows this face. Sure, she knows it to be much younger than what she's seeing right now, but isn't this-- ]
F-Falco?!
[ Look, she's at least allowing herself to be dragged along, but that doesn't mean Ange doesn't look completely baffled by everything that's going on here. ]
[ she looks so surprised, almost too much and falco has to give it some time to reconnect with the fact that, yes, everyone was well accustomed to a him that was nearing fourteen instead of twenty seven. fear not! he’s not some random chap trying to steal a girl . . . especially not who considers an aunt, if anything. ]
Oh— Yes! Sorry— [ about the sudden leading, but he’s too eager to really stop. only pointing her to the direction they were going in, falco laughs through his words to say: ] I promise you’ll enjoy it, Mrs. Ange.
W-Well, that's not what I was really all that worried about--
[ Look at all this fluster going on here. It's not often that Ange is so thrown for a loop in a way that it actually shows, something she can't force down and attempt to hide behind a poker face.
Mostly because it's all so much at once. The dragging, sure, but especially in combination with who's doing it over here. Ange would trust Falco when the boy might drag her somewhere, but..
This isn't a boy anymore, now is it!! ]
Why are you so old?! [ Please, Ange, he's technically not that much older than you.. Don't act like he's suddenly middle-aged, just because you're surprised and gawking at him now.. ]
( It's been awhile since Peter poked his head out of the safety of home; times have been strange (but when aren't they?) Recovering from the cocoon he'd found himself in at the beginning of November has been a lenghty process, and there are some ways he's gotten better and some ways he thinks maybe he's gotten worse.
In any case, fresh air never hurts. He takes walks, and ventures into the city to do some window-shopping, easy and calm. He likes the chill to the air, the winter frost; it's easy to breathe in, and back out.
He's standing gazing into a window of a store when someone takes his arm, and being Peter, he startles — but doesn't pull back, wide eyes catching hold of who's there, and it's....someone he knows. Different, in this form (a concept Peter's used to by now; this time last year he woke up beside Luna as an entire man), but still recognisable. )
Falco? ( Peter's turning to face him more, and for once his surprise isn't coming with panic. Only wonder as he takes his friend in, breathing out a soft exhale. )
[ oh, yes, the realization that has to set when falco has gone way past it. it’s fine, he even stops to clap the now younger man on both sides of his face, not too hard and not too soft, but friendly and certainly familiar. ]
Maybe not so big. [ it’s a joke— but look, he gets it. he’s an entire foot taller, and now rivals peter’s own lanky height! he just hasn’t breached six feet unless he’s huge and feathery. anyway! ] How old are you still— twenty one?
[ oh tell him they could go get a drink—
(he would, anyway; wasn’t eighteen the adult age?) ]
( Peter's still quietly ogling the other as he claps his face, affectionate and friendly, brows lifting as his voice comes though — definitely deeper, older, different.
...But the same, too. In the aged features, in the eyes; there's Falco. And Peter's smiling, small and still a little stunned, but acceptance comes fairly quick. This happens around here, and Falco clearly remembers who he is, which is always the favourable option. )
Yeah—! Or, wait. Twenty. I'm twenty, I think. Yeah.
( ...Peter, don't you know... But it's been strange to keep up with; his birthday passed right in the middle of Cocoon Activity, and he's been so scrambled and scrombled since then...
Look, he'd definitely be down for a drink and the idea will inevitably come to him soon— )
[ it all happens so suddenly. one moment, she's observing a carved whalebone knife, and the next she's being pulled along somewhere. she stumbles along with him, mouth unable to push out a protest as she stares at him dumbly. her brain catches up quickly, though.
it's the curve of his jaw. the dip at the bridge of his nose. her breath catches in her throat and gets stuck there. she knows that the shed is happening, and has been mentally preparing herself for all kinds of strangeness this month, but this isn't one she could've prepared for. ]
Falco. [ she breathes his name out like she's gasping for air and she pulls him to a sudden stop, unbothered if they block the flow of traffic, so as to take him in. her blue eyes trail over every little detail, catching every change and growth. he's so much taller now. he looks like an adult.
her eyes begin to burn and water and she feels so very foolish and silly. she reaches up to touch his cheek, to turn his face this way and then that way. ]
Look at you. [ warm & thick with emotion that she can't manage to contain.
this must've been what Rose felt when she'd met with Sharon on the boardwalk for the first time. shocked and awed and wishing she'd had the chance to see her grow up. ]
[ he doesn’t mind this, oh like hell does he. his face follows the hands that guide him from one direction to the next, with his eyes pinned on sharon— it’s not long before he raises his own hands to place neatly, gently and familiarly on top of hers. ]
I’m even taller than you are now.
[ only by a few inches, but that’s only said in warm, inviting jeering to break her tears with some sort of smile. ]
Barely. [ she says with a wet smile. he's not supposed to grow up this fast. it's the shed, she has to remind herself, but... still... is she seeing into the future then? or is this just a possibility? ]
You were tiny. [ she exaggerates with a mischievous grin, gesturing in the air by her abdomen, hand flat as if to measure. ] You could barely reach the counters in my house. Don't you remember? I had to get you a booster seat and everything.
[ blood is everything around here and he's got the boring kind. what's a warmblood and all-around Nice Guy to do for his community but donate his completely unremarkable blood?
hypothetically, of course. Levi's not really a nice guy.
he does have the normie non-toxic blood, though, and even if he's not quite 'nice', he's a good person—uh, mostly. he's gotten off relatively easy in his time here so far; it's the least he can do for those who haven't been so lucky.
he probably shouldn't be surprised to see Falco there when he arrives, but he is. it might be because he's still not used to Falco being taller than him. honestly, even if this winds up being a permanent change, he might never get used to it.
his fake son... they grow up so fast. ]
A checkup? [ ordinarily he would pass; he didn't come prepared for that shit. but he trusts Falco regardless of how tall he is, so— ] I guess, if you really want to.
[ it'll go fast, he's sure. there's no cure for what he has. ]
i do not see the time stamp (cw for needle mention)
[ he’s a little excited to be starting a check up, but falco was enthusiastic when it came to any and all things remotely medical or revolving around nursing. he can get the tools ready, needle, tubes and vials prepared and lined up on a tray as falco rolls up levi’s sleeve with careful consideration. ]
This might feel tight, [ the bit of rubber he uses to tie around the arm, of course— he might know what’s coming, but it may still be for the best that he’s given a head’s up. ] but I’ll make it fast.
[ and truly! his hands have become quite skilled. one may barely feel the slide of the needle’s prick before hitting a vein, letting the rubber go free, and collecting warmblood. ]
[ he doesn't visually react to any of these things, as usual; he's done this before, and he trusts that Falco knows what he's doing either way. he doesn't feel the need to watch it go down, either.
wow. so brave. he better get a sticker after this. ]
I can already tell this kind of work suits you.
[ way better than being a shifter ever would, he knows. it's actually pretty infuriating. ]
[ whoever needs a lift to the new city, flight happens to cut your travel time in half. there's zero chance falco would flick away an opportunity for adventure at the height of his dwindling existence— he never really did consider when his last flight would be, so he puts in every effort into it in silence at the possibility that this could be it.
. . . which meant, those on his back wouldn't be signing up for a smooth ride, but indeed into a series of scales, spins, dips, drops and joyous glides with clipped turns. you're not taking a taxi into discovery, but a rollercoaster.
and every now and then, you could hear the massive titan drawling like faraway thunder whether it's up in the air or down to earth for rest: chuckling. ]
B: ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇs (ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ)
[ once the destination to the new city is made, falco will land in soundness. he's quiet and tends to interact a touch less with others around him, the vessel's breathing a heavy, quickened thrum each time he inflates his air sacks. his head hangs low, his eyes are small and thinning into squints— until he can't stay in anymore. he ejects, but it takes time to pry himself out.
he won't allow anyone who isn't a vileblood near him or the carcass until it evaporates and with good reason. with that done, and his nose an ugly stain of green blood and raggedy lungs: ]
I don't think I can make another trip back, [ he takes a breath, ] I'm sorry.
It would be foolish not to bring protection and backup, and Midoriya is training for both. He knows all about protecting noncombatants. He has made use of Float to travel as a second pair of eyes, only occasionally hitching a ride on Falco's Titan form to rest. He knows the feeling of soaring above the clouds now, wind in his hair.
He also knows the dissolving flesh is dangerous. Midoriya once helped him out of it with the protection of equipment he doesn't have now. He only has his regular Hero gear and a backpack of travel supplies and food.
"Falco-kun!" He really should be addressing him as Falco-san or anything that would indicate this Falco's apparent age in comparison to his own, but Midoriya is, understandably, distressed.
"Don't worry about that, I can carry you and your passengers back instead. Please, here, sit down..."
He's trained to take in someone's condition at a glance. He's not sure Falco should remain on his feet. He splays steadying gloved fingers across Falco's back and carefully shepherds him over the cobblestones towards a sidewalk bench. He speaks more calmly,
"Try breathing more slowly and deeply. Do you feel dizzy? Is it Corruption?"
[ his hand is the first thing to shoot up amidst the aid to guide him over to proper footing, straight to his mouth in a cover once he felt a cough surge up his throat and serve a splattering little plaque of puke green in his palm. it wasn’t puke, at least, but the floral scent denoting his vileblood may be more alarming than if he were simply feeling nauseous.
he could at least manage to put his hand away to his clothes, make sure he doesn’t touch anyone, including izuku, with it— it’s not so easy to mask when the wet dripping goes from his nose, to his lips, and wherever else he steps.
falco breathes slow, he breathes deep. he’s an extra shade of pale compared to the greenish hue his skin already takes. now he just looks more like paper. ]
I’ve had this for a while now. [ and almost instinctively, his smile, weak but still behind a cupped hand and tilted head backwards: ]
Internal bleeding is definitely more alarming. He digs in one of his pouches and hands Falco a handkerchief. When he remembers to, he carries one because you never know when you'll come down with a case of wearing your heart on your sleeve--tearfully.
Midoriya doesn't care about getting blood on himself, but the usual protocols apply, so he tries not to as he works off a glove with his teeth and presses his fingers to check Falco's pulse.
"What is it? It's not the same thing the Pthumerians have, is it?"
There is a theory that the Pthumerians have been catching it off each other for months, and Midoriya hasn't ruled out them passing it to Sleepers yet.
[ falco attends madame generosity's annual ball in dapper wear and a smile to match it— even if he does seem to be worse for wear. his sickly frailness is apparent and beyond the usual pale hue a vileblood's skin tone may take. his eyes are sunken and tired rather than bright, but he pushes forward. he wants to drink, he wants to dance, we wants to do much of everything he still can and is quite bullheaded in his desires. taking the arm of of a friend as they walk by or come close, he wears a faint grin and pulls with desire that won't be spoken down to submission. ]
Can we go there? [ he points, either to the drinks or to the dance floor. ] Just one more time.
B: ʟᴇᴛs ɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ
[ standing for too long brings discomfort to falco at one point; he can't quite bare his weight and has used up most of the energy he had to have more energetic fun with the music. there's still one more thing he wishes to do, and that's joining the stage. he sits on the edge of the stage to perform, and to soothe the wrongness that sits between them— a soft balm for your ailments. falco, unfortunately, doesn't play a smooth piece, riddled with pauses to both breathe and rest his arms.
even if he's pale like paper by the end of the last stretch, he looks proud to have managed. ]
C: ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴛᴇʟʟɪɴ' ᴍᴇ ɪᴛ's ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ
[ the night winds down and falco has found the massive pillow corners to rest in— and that's where he stays for the rest of the night. he watches people come in and go fondly, he rests a heavy hand on the shoulder of a friend who rests anywhere near him to comment I had a lot of fun. if you don’t catch him there, perhaps even napping away in the cushion heaps, he’s probably trying to make his way home.
he’ll walk some, then stop. walk a little more, then stop all together when he’s winded enough to stagger over his own two feet. falco takes what he gets when he realizes he’s not getting without either a chair, a crutch, or someone’s help— so he sits on a fountain’s ledge right outside red, and watches the spotty night sky. mostly clouds, it’s hard to see a clear night or day in trench, but he says something that might be hard to see:
“it’s beautiful tonight,” with each word said paused to breathe in. ]
[ at least he had confetti to help him to the beach. it hadn't been calling him, but something else had. something just . . . told him. from the way his thinned body had weighed to how hard it was to raise his voice, how the color would hardly seep back to his face, and yet he'd still bleed spontaneously— perle too, would rarely pull herself out. she'd keep tucked into a subdued ball and refuse to fly.
with his arms around his avian companion, he asks to be taken from jun's new home that he was greatly invited into toward somewhere quiet, secluded and open to nature rather than enclosed walls. if he was going to die somewhere, he wanted to feel more in touch with the open skies, even if it were all too far up. confetti nestles into his side and promptly props the young man up from his staggering descent into the sand. every joint ached when he pulled his knees to his chest to keep warm, and his arms to wrap around them. they all felt heavy, but when he manages to relax against white feathers, he breathes out and watches the rolling, frigid waters foam into the wet side of the black sand.
at least he's got a blanket, and a living furnace tucking him inside a wing. ]
[He'd noticed that Falco was growing more distant, more insular. That he was feeling awful, that he wasn't eating - he didn't say anything, didn't force anything, but simply took note of it. Falco was growing weaker and weaker and he didn't push. Clearly this was something Falco was going through and... well. If he didn't think Jun was able to handle whatever it was, that was Falco's choice.]
[But one day he disappears, and Jun tries to think of where he could have gone. He's heard of people being called back to the ocean, so he heads there first - and he's glad he did, because Confetti is easy enough to spot among the black sand. He walks up next to Falco, his omen at his heels. The omen sits nearby, but Jun sits next to Falco and leans against him.]
... I won't ask what it is. It's your business. But... don't just disappear on me. Whatever you're doing, whatever you're going through... don't...
[He reaches up to stroke the back of Falco's hair with shaking fingers.]
I've lost enough chances to say goodbye. Please don't let me lose another.
[Is Falco dying? He's not sure. He's also not sure if the other will come back if he does die in this state. He can't take any chances, though. He lost his chance to be there when Machi died. He can't lose another.]
[ his younger self had never told him, is what he realizes now. there’s a sadness to his smile, but and understanding despite a pull so tired that he could barely do more than a simple little curve. ]
Hey, there. [ he feels the immense weight pull at his arm as he wishes to raise it to reach jun’s head to give it a rub, but even then . . . it was too hard. he dips his head instead as an invite. ] Why don’t you sit down, and we . . . Can talk a little.
[ his lips stay parted, just enough for him to breath shallow after every so group of words.
he remembers jun, of course he does. this wasn’t the jun he knew now, his jun, but that didn’t mean his feelings were null. he has a nostalgic fondness when he sees this boys face so young. ]
[He scoots a little close to Falco, leaning against him. It's... odd, with him being so much bigger. He still loves the other boy, though - even if he's more of a man now than a boy.]
Don't push yourself harder than you feel you need to. Make sure you breathe.
[It's hard, hearing him like this. But he has to be strong, for Falco's sake if not for his own.]
... I just want you to be as comfortable as you can be.
[His hand goes to the other's knee and squeezes it gently. He doesn't want to put pressure on anything that seems like it might be hurting at the moment.]
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SHEDDING CEREMONY (GENERAL PROMPTS)
B: ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜʟ ɪs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴠɪᴏʟɪɴ sᴛʀɪɴɢ
C: ɪᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ's sᴛʀᴇᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ
A
It's very early in January - early enough that Ange hasn't quite realised that a year has passed and the shedding ceremony has returned. Early enough that the girl is caught completely off guard when she's walking the streets innocently, having no idea what's about to happen to her, until someone is already taking her arm.
She sputters, ready to defend herself, maybe shove a spell right into this person's face..
.. until she looks, truly looks, and realises she knows this face. Sure, she knows it to be much younger than what she's seeing right now, but isn't this-- ]
F-Falco?!
[ Look, she's at least allowing herself to be dragged along, but that doesn't mean Ange doesn't look completely baffled by everything that's going on here. ]
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Oh— Yes! Sorry— [ about the sudden leading, but he’s too eager to really stop. only pointing her to the direction they were going in, falco laughs through his words to say: ] I promise you’ll enjoy it, Mrs. Ange.
[ missus…………!!! 😭 ]
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[ Look at all this fluster going on here. It's not often that Ange is so thrown for a loop in a way that it actually shows, something she can't force down and attempt to hide behind a poker face.
Mostly because it's all so much at once. The dragging, sure, but especially in combination with who's doing it over here. Ange would trust Falco when the boy might drag her somewhere, but..
This isn't a boy anymore, now is it!! ]
Why are you so old?! [ Please, Ange, he's technically not that much older than you.. Don't act like he's suddenly middle-aged, just because you're surprised and gawking at him now.. ]
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You say that like I’m an old man!
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a wrap maybe—?! ❤️ 😭
A
In any case, fresh air never hurts. He takes walks, and ventures into the city to do some window-shopping, easy and calm. He likes the chill to the air, the winter frost; it's easy to breathe in, and back out.
He's standing gazing into a window of a store when someone takes his arm, and being Peter, he startles — but doesn't pull back, wide eyes catching hold of who's there, and it's....someone he knows. Different, in this form (a concept Peter's used to by now; this time last year he woke up beside Luna as an entire man), but still recognisable. )
Falco? ( Peter's turning to face him more, and for once his surprise isn't coming with panic. Only wonder as he takes his friend in, breathing out a soft exhale. )
You're big!
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Maybe not so big. [ it’s a joke— but look, he gets it. he’s an entire foot taller, and now rivals peter’s own lanky height! he just hasn’t breached six feet unless he’s huge and feathery. anyway! ] How old are you still— twenty one?
[ oh tell him they could go get a drink—
(he would, anyway; wasn’t eighteen the adult age?) ]
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...But the same, too. In the aged features, in the eyes; there's Falco. And Peter's smiling, small and still a little stunned, but acceptance comes fairly quick. This happens around here, and Falco clearly remembers who he is, which is always the favourable option. )
Yeah—! Or, wait. Twenty. I'm twenty, I think. Yeah.
( ...Peter, don't you know... But it's been strange to keep up with; his birthday passed right in the middle of Cocoon Activity, and he's been so scrambled and scrombled since then...
Look, he'd definitely be down for a drink and the idea will inevitably come to him soon— )
How old are you...?
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Twenty-six.
[ ahhah now see! that means he’s the one who’s big brother responsible! ]
And I think we should celebrate it.
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cw: implied drinking/drug use
cw: drinking & drug use gonna happen y'all
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a
it's the curve of his jaw. the dip at the bridge of his nose. her breath catches in her throat and gets stuck there. she knows that the shed is happening, and has been mentally preparing herself for all kinds of strangeness this month, but this isn't one she could've prepared for. ]
Falco. [ she breathes his name out like she's gasping for air and she pulls him to a sudden stop, unbothered if they block the flow of traffic, so as to take him in. her blue eyes trail over every little detail, catching every change and growth. he's so much taller now. he looks like an adult.
her eyes begin to burn and water and she feels so very foolish and silly. she reaches up to touch his cheek, to turn his face this way and then that way. ]
Look at you. [ warm & thick with emotion that she can't manage to contain.
this must've been what Rose felt when she'd met with Sharon on the boardwalk for the first time. shocked and awed and wishing she'd had the chance to see her grow up. ]
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I’m even taller than you are now.
[ only by a few inches, but that’s only said in warm, inviting jeering to break her tears with some sort of smile. ]
What size was I then?
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You were tiny. [ she exaggerates with a mischievous grin, gesturing in the air by her abdomen, hand flat as if to measure. ] You could barely reach the counters in my house. Don't you remember? I had to get you a booster seat and everything.
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I wasn’t that small when I was thirteen.
[ tiny. tiny, she says!! but, all in all, he does remember it. in this falco’s past, he remembers it all like crystal-perfect shots.
. . . and by the way, ]
—Come on, I want to make you something.
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literally the latest tagin of all time (c)
hypothetically, of course. Levi's not really a nice guy.
he does have the normie non-toxic blood, though, and even if he's not quite 'nice', he's a good person—uh, mostly. he's gotten off relatively easy in his time here so far; it's the least he can do for those who haven't been so lucky.
he probably shouldn't be surprised to see Falco there when he arrives, but he is. it might be because he's still not used to Falco being taller than him. honestly, even if this winds up being a permanent change, he might never get used to it.
his fake son... they grow up so fast. ]
A checkup? [ ordinarily he would pass; he didn't come prepared for that shit. but he trusts Falco regardless of how tall he is, so— ] I guess, if you really want to.
[ it'll go fast, he's sure. there's no cure for what he has. ]
i do not see the time stamp (cw for needle mention)
[ he’s a little excited to be starting a check up, but falco was enthusiastic when it came to any and all things remotely medical or revolving around nursing. he can get the tools ready, needle, tubes and vials prepared and lined up on a tray as falco rolls up levi’s sleeve with careful consideration. ]
This might feel tight, [ the bit of rubber he uses to tie around the arm, of course— he might know what’s coming, but it may still be for the best that he’s given a head’s up. ] but I’ll make it fast.
[ and truly! his hands have become quite skilled. one may barely feel the slide of the needle’s prick before hitting a vein, letting the rubber go free, and collecting warmblood. ]
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wow. so brave. he better get a sticker after this. ]
I can already tell this kind of work suits you.
[ way better than being a shifter ever would, he knows. it's actually pretty infuriating. ]
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A NEW CITY
B: ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇs (ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ)
B | mha spoilers for his canonpoint
He also knows the dissolving flesh is dangerous. Midoriya once helped him out of it with the protection of equipment he doesn't have now. He only has his regular Hero gear and a backpack of travel supplies and food.
"Falco-kun!" He really should be addressing him as Falco-san or anything that would indicate this Falco's apparent age in comparison to his own, but Midoriya is, understandably, distressed.
"Don't worry about that, I can carry you and your passengers back instead. Please, here, sit down..."
He's trained to take in someone's condition at a glance. He's not sure Falco should remain on his feet. He splays steadying gloved fingers across Falco's back and carefully shepherds him over the cobblestones towards a sidewalk bench. He speaks more calmly,
"Try breathing more slowly and deeply. Do you feel dizzy? Is it Corruption?"
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he could at least manage to put his hand away to his clothes, make sure he doesn’t touch anyone, including izuku, with it— it’s not so easy to mask when the wet dripping goes from his nose, to his lips, and wherever else he steps.
falco breathes slow, he breathes deep. he’s an extra shade of pale compared to the greenish hue his skin already takes. now he just looks more like paper. ]
I’ve had this for a while now. [ and almost instinctively, his smile, weak but still behind a cupped hand and tilted head backwards: ]
You don’t have to worry about corruption.
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Midoriya doesn't care about getting blood on himself, but the usual protocols apply, so he tries not to as he works off a glove with his teeth and presses his fingers to check Falco's pulse.
"What is it? It's not the same thing the Pthumerians have, is it?"
There is a theory that the Pthumerians have been catching it off each other for months, and Midoriya hasn't ruled out them passing it to Sleepers yet.
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a wrap soon . . . ???
yes... 😢
😭
SNAKE DEN
B: ʟᴇᴛs ɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ
C: ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴛᴇʟʟɪɴ' ᴍᴇ ɪᴛ's ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ
@icanhearscreams
with his arms around his avian companion, he asks to be taken from jun's new home that he was greatly invited into toward somewhere quiet, secluded and open to nature rather than enclosed walls. if he was going to die somewhere, he wanted to feel more in touch with the open skies, even if it were all too far up. confetti nestles into his side and promptly props the young man up from his staggering descent into the sand. every joint ached when he pulled his knees to his chest to keep warm, and his arms to wrap around them. they all felt heavy, but when he manages to relax against white feathers, he breathes out and watches the rolling, frigid waters foam into the wet side of the black sand.
at least he's got a blanket, and a living furnace tucking him inside a wing. ]
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[But one day he disappears, and Jun tries to think of where he could have gone. He's heard of people being called back to the ocean, so he heads there first - and he's glad he did, because Confetti is easy enough to spot among the black sand. He walks up next to Falco, his omen at his heels. The omen sits nearby, but Jun sits next to Falco and leans against him.]
... I won't ask what it is. It's your business. But... don't just disappear on me. Whatever you're doing, whatever you're going through... don't...
[He reaches up to stroke the back of Falco's hair with shaking fingers.]
I've lost enough chances to say goodbye. Please don't let me lose another.
[Is Falco dying? He's not sure. He's also not sure if the other will come back if he does die in this state. He can't take any chances, though. He lost his chance to be there when Machi died. He can't lose another.]
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Hey, there. [ he feels the immense weight pull at his arm as he wishes to raise it to reach jun’s head to give it a rub, but even then . . . it was too hard. he dips his head instead as an invite. ] Why don’t you sit down, and we . . . Can talk a little.
[ his lips stay parted, just enough for him to breath shallow after every so group of words.
he remembers jun, of course he does. this wasn’t the jun he knew now, his jun, but that didn’t mean his feelings were null. he has a nostalgic fondness when he sees this boys face so young. ]
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Don't push yourself harder than you feel you need to. Make sure you breathe.
[It's hard, hearing him like this. But he has to be strong, for Falco's sake if not for his own.]
... I just want you to be as comfortable as you can be.
[His hand goes to the other's knee and squeezes it gently. He doesn't want to put pressure on anything that seems like it might be hurting at the moment.]
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cw: death