ᴛᴀɢꜱ: Post-Apocalyptic, World War I, Historical Inaccuracies, Alternate Universe - Different History, Vatanim Sensin, Hileon, Technology and Medical Inaccuracies
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:
The aftermath of the First World War was far more detrimental than any country had expected. The Allied Powers gained access to nuclear weapons in secret, leaving the entire globe in disarray. A mass societal collapse follows, causing governments to fall apart and leaving citizens to fend for themselves. They're forced to create their own civilizations, protecting each other and advancing at their own pace.
Hilal stumbles upon an unconscious young man, who appears to be severely wounded. In bringing him back to her campsite, she runs the risk of endangering her family and her heart.
Leon was still sore.
The gash in his leg was healing nicely, but occasionally, the pain was too much to handle. He knew how lucky he was. He’d overheard the head nurse, Azize, muttering to the others that he was lucky he didn’t bleed out.
Some nights, that kept him awake. On others, it was the throbbing pain in the back of his leg that had eventually numbed itself into a dull sensation, only reminding him of its presence when he moved.
He had been granted temporary housing within the makeshift village, courtesy of Azize insisting to their ‘leader’ that he had nowhere else to go. It was true, but hearing someone actually say it felt worse than the reminders of his wound. He had yet to meet their leader, but this supposed gracious leader granted the head nurse’s request, allowing Leon to occupy one of the empty shuttles closer to the med bay. In fact, it was only two doors down from the makeshift medical suite.
His housing wasn’t anything glamorous, but he was grateful for it. It was a room that was connected to the medical bay, but only by thick steel walls. There were no doorways leading from this room into the infirmary, which he was content with. The space offered him a bit of privacy. In fact, that was about all it offered him.
There was a folding cot up against the furthest wall from the doorway, a beaten chair that was probably very plush and comfortable at the time of its manufacturing, and a small mirror on the wall opposite from the bed. Basically, it was just sleeping quarters, but that was all he needed. This was considered luxury in comparison to his past of constantly being on the move, and never staying in one place for very long.
It had been approximately two weeks since his unconscious arrival to the camp. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t planned on staying this long. If it were up to him, he would’ve been out of here like a bat out of hell as soon as his wound stopped bleeding. And yet, here he was, drifting into a dreamless sleep as he tried to convince himself that the main reason for his continued stay was so that he didn’t put too much weight on his healing leg.
A peaceful slumber never came to greet him. He’d passed out from exhaustion, his body winning the battle of unconsciousness due to needing it to allow himself to heal, but his face was crumpled in a pained expression almost the entire time. Sweat beads began to form at his hairline, threatening to trickle down his face as he endured the agony. In his unconscious state, he still managed to let a few pains and groans escape his lips. Some nights were harder than others, and this was one of them.
Unbeknownst to him, a familiar face with long, chestnut hair and eyes that mimicked the clearest of waters was pacing the campsite, desperate to clear her mind.
Hilal’s mind was something that few people truly understood, she felt. It never quieted down. Her dreams were always vivid, her thoughts and ideas were always creative, and her emotions were always passionate – for better or for worse. Her midnight pacing was nothing new, and honestly, the residents of the makeshift campsite had come to accept her behavior. With her thoughts preoccupied with whichever ideas had consumed it this evening, she had not paid attention to the route she’d taken in her stress-treading.
Suddenly, almost as if it was timed, her brain took a brief pause, and she felt like she could easily let air back into her lungs again. She inhaled deeply, holding it for a moment before letting the breath out as a sign of mental exhaustion. Hilal allowed herself to observe her surroundings finally, gazing at the perimeter of trees that surrounded the camp. Her eyes wandered to the abandoned medical bay, having recuperated its previous patients. She let her thoughts drift to the patient that she assisted with – Leon.
She’d seen him up and walking around the campsite a little, not very much though, as her mother had instructed him to take it easy to let his body heal. He’d tried his best to listen, but he was very quickly becoming restless with being cooped up in his newly claimed room. She remembered that the shelter he was given was conveniently right next to the med bay, just in case, her mother had said.
Hilal looked up and noticed that the door to his primitive housing was left open, which wasn’t entirely uncommon in their pseudo-village. One of the things they struggled with having access to was gasoline to power generators, so any kind of cooling systems for their housing was reserved for particularly hot days only. However, this evening was particularly warm – especially to those who preferred to sleep in the cool.
She found herself nearing the open door, stilling when she heard strangled noises coming from his room. The girl listened intently, focusing until she heard another pained groan and exhausted huff. Unable to stop herself, she rushed through the open doorway and assessed her surroundings. Even in the dark, her eyes found the cot that his body lay on, barely being able to make out the pained expression across his features.
His eyebrows were knit together in agony and his teeth were clenched, hardly visible through his parted lips, though the dim lighting of the moon offered a bit of visual aid. Hilal knelt next to his bedside, gently lifting her hands to caress his jaw. The action itself was so intimate for two people who were still practically strangers, but she acted without thought as her hands touched his skin.
“Leon… Leon, wake up,” she whispered, careful as to not startle him.
At the touch of her warm hand against his cold and clammy face, he turned toward her contact, almost as if he was hiding his pain in her hands. Still, his eyes remained closed. She brought one hand down to one of his arms and gripped it a little firmer, shaking him.
“Leon,” she tried again, almost becoming familiar with the way his name tasted on her tongue.
Her voice was strained with worry as she repeated his name. The combination of a firmer grasp on his arm and her volume going above a whisper allowed him to open his eyes. He was too weak to shoot up from his bed, but he could pick his head up from the pillow, at least. His eyes darted around the small room for a moment, looking for any sign of danger before his gaze fell onto Hilal’s worried face. He seemed to have relaxed slightly.
“H-Hilal?” He asked, questioning if her presence was the result of a delusional dream rather than reality.
She nodded in response, cupping his face once more. She then noticed that he was burning up. His skin was clammy, yet beads of sweat protruded from his hairline. He leaned back into her touch as he let his head fall back onto the plush pillow.
“Hilal…,” he tried, his voice sounding frail. “I don’t… I don’t f-feel so good…”
Leon’s breathing came out in uneven huffs. His tired eyes looked up to meet Hilal’s gaze with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher. She gripped his hand with hers for a moment, squeezing it before letting go.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised, pushing herself up off of the floor where she’d been sitting and rushing out of his makeshift shelter.
The part-time nurse ran to the next door over, grabbing the supplies she needed from the med bay: a fresh cloth, a basin with water, and a small satchel containing white willow bark pieces. When she returned to Leon’s bedside, his face immediately relaxed upon seeing her again. He’d never admit it, but part of him wondered if she would even come back, or if she had planned on leaving him to suffer.
As soon as she stepped into his room, she set the cloth and basin on the small nightstand next to him, keeping the satchel in her clutches as she rooted around for a piece of the medicinal flora. She plucked a piece out of the bag and slowly brought it up to his lips.
“Chew on this,” she murmured. “It tastes awful, but it’ll help with the pain.”
Leon did as he was instructed, biting into the dried flesh of the tree. He let out a disgusted groan as his tastebuds writhed in agony.
“I know, I know,” She whispered.
After a few moments, she produced a disposable cloth next to his face, allowing him to spit the remainder of the bark out. With any luck, the benefits of the natural remedy would help him feel better soon. Even with the dried herb, Leon was still hot to the touch and felt miserable.
“Here, here…,” she soothed, returning to her position next to him, and soaking the small towel into the clean water.
She twisted the towel in her hands, ringing the excess water out of it before bringing it to Leon’s head. At the contact of the cool cloth, he let out a sigh of relief. Hilal repeated the process a few more times, successfully lowering the practically boiling temperature of the young man below her. After a while, she noticed that Leon’s breathing had changed, steadying into a pattern that hinted he had finally drifted back to sleep. She let out a relieved sigh, hopeful that he would feel better in the morning.
The young woman finally stood up from where she’d been kneeling next to Leon, preparing to head back to her own chambers. As she stepped toward the doorway, trying her best to tiptoe, the flooring shifted under her weight. A dreadful creaking noise came from underneath her, causing her to jump back, as if the rickety old flooring would combust beneath her feet.
Behind her, she heard the layers of bedding shuffling – no doubt due to the resting young man tossing and turning in his sleep. She hoped he was still asleep, and that the noise she’d caused didn’t wake him.
“Hilal?” Leon murmured, his voice groggy with sleep.
She turned back at the sound of her name, wincing. With the dull lighting of the moon, Hilal could see him looking at her with tired eyes.
“W-will you,” he began, swallowing and taking a deep breath before starting again. “Will you stay?”
Her breath hitched in her throat, the request of the healing man surprising her. However, she found that she couldn’t tell him no. His body was weak and he felt almost fragile. She’d found herself worrying about his healing process, if she was being honest with herself.
She’d been asking her mother how Leon was healing, and if he was doing okay. Hilal couldn’t bring herself to approach him in the middle of the day, just to check up on him — yet here she was in his room, at an ungodly hour.
God, what would my mother think? She thought to herself.
Her mother had become tired of her youngest daughter asking for updates on the foreign young man. Azize was constantly busy, being pulled in various directions at any time of day, helping with minor injuries, sewing her husband’s clothing back together, taking care of her own mother, the list went on.
“Kuzum, I’m sure he’s fine,” she started, trying to satisfy her daughter’s inquiries with the least amount of effort. “If you’re that worried about him, why don’t you go pay him a visit?”
Azize was not being literal. Honestly, she would bet on her daughter not having the courage to approach the stranger that had been temporarily staying at their camp. She was right, for the most part. However, the one thing she didn’t take into consideration was her youngest child’s curiosity and caring nature.
Hilal let out a sigh as she approached Leon’s bedside once more. After a brief moment of contemplation, she nodded. Leon breathed a relieved sigh and watched as she looked around the room, trying to decide what the best sleeping arrangements would be. Even in his dazed state, Leon could see the nervous look on her features.
“U-um, I didn’t mean-,” he stuttered, looking down at the cot he was laying on. “I-I’m sorry, I could let-,”
He had attempted to sit up, planning to offer the cot to Hilal. He could figure something else out and sleep on the floor if he needed to. The nervous girl watched his movements, predicting what his next words were going to be. Her actions came before her thoughts once again as she approached him, placing her hands on his chest, urging him to lay back down.
“Leon, no-,” Hilal practically yelped before she could stop herself.
Once her brain caught up, she realized what her volume sounded like and where her hands were. Immediately, she stepped back and snatched her hands back, as if touching him had burned her. Her face flushed, likely matching the temperature of the fever that Leon’s immune system was actively fighting.
“I-I mean, you need to rest,” she started, her eyes looking anywhere but at him. They landed on the old chair in the corner of the room.
It’ll have to do, she thought to herself. It beat the alternative of anyone being under the impression that they had shared a bed. If that rumor dared to circulate around the camp, her father would likely strangle Leon with his bare hands. She scooched the chair closer to his bedside, just to keep an eye on him – that’s what she convinced herself, anyways.
Leon shuffled in the cot next to her, wanting to do something to help as she attempted to create some kind of comfort within the chair. When she turned to face him, he was holding out an extra blanket – it had been folded up neatly and settled at the foot of the cot. Hilal hesitated, looking to meet his eyes in the dim lighting of his room.
After another moment, she accepted the blanket with both hands, using the soft fabric to add more cushioning to the chair and settling into the piece of furniture. She turned to look at him once more, wanting to thank him for the gesture.
“Leon, thank you-,” she started, only to clip her words prematurely at the sight of his sleeping form.
The expression on his face was calmer, almost relaxed. Hilal breathed a sigh of relief now that he no longer appeared to be in agonizing pain. She made herself as comfortable as she could, shifting around in the old chair until finally finding a position that her slumber could agree with.
The rest of the night passed by without a single hiccup. Somewhere on the other side of the campsite, Cevdet was making his rounds, inspecting their pseudo-village before the sun barely had any time to rise. The sky was a bit of a dusty purple as the rest of the world woke up, slowly but surely.
Being the head of the camp, as well as the father of three young adults, he regularly surveilled the grounds to make sure that everything was safe and secure. And of course, to make sure that his children weren’t getting up to anything they shouldn’t be. Since the war ended, life had looked a little different from them. Every day used to be practically mundane with its schedule of Cevdet reporting for duty at the Turkish military headquarters, Azize working at the only hospital for miles, and the children going to school.
He often found himself missing the simplicity and structure of that life — but it was gone now. This was their life: putting together missions to scavenge for resources, growing their own food and raising their own livestock, and relying on each other for survival.
As the bearded man strolled through the campsite with silent footsteps, courtesy of his military training, he found himself nearing the medical bay. He was aware of the stray that his daughter had brought home, proud of his youngest child’s mindset to care for and nurture those who are injured. Still, he kept his guard up around the young man. An outsider was still an outsider, regardless of who brought them to their small civilization. As the unofficial leader, it was Cevdet’s responsibility to keep them all safe.
He approached the open-doored cabin that was temporarily assigned to Leon, eyeing the small shelter. Suddenly, his eyes adjusted to the lack of sunlight in the quaint room. He analyzed the scene before him: Leon was fast asleep in his cot, with a chair pulled up beside him. The chair contained a figure, whose head was propped against the cushioning of the bed. He stepped closer, suddenly recognizing the clothing on the sleeping guest. When the identity of the second person in Leon’s sleeping chambers clicked, he felt his blood run cold.
“Hilal!” Cevdet’s voice boomed, echoing through the altered metal rooms.
The first thing that the young girl saw as she opened her eyes was the familiar sight of her father’s workboots, standing firmly in the doorway.
~~~
author's note: thank you so much for reading! if you'd like to be added to my taglist for this fic and/or any future vatanim sensin fics, please feel free to leave a comment!
The garden was overrun with weeds, untended without the gardeners long since dismissed from the house. Yet the scent of some flowers still persisted despite the neglect: the hydrangeas, tea roses, and snow daisies were having their fair share of the sun.
It was satisfying to stroll outdoors in the sunlight accompanied by a gentleman. Dina’s heart ached with regret at the notion she could never do this with Vladislaus, even if she wanted to. The simplest pleasure of walking in the sunlight with her husband fully denied. But here was Mortimer, offering his company to her now. Her mind drifted to the faded fantasies she once harbored about him.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that she missed the question asked of her by Mortimer. “I’m sorry?”
“Your husband, Dina,” Mortimer repeated as they continued their stroll, arm in arm. “Does he…keep odd hours at home, too?”
Read from the beginning here on AO3 (Rated M):
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Growing up on the road is hard—sharing cramped backseats and recycling the same stale air: in cars, in motel rooms, in diners and truck stops and under moth-eaten duvets. But you burn so hot because you like it. Your brother is in your space like a fever and you combust together.
The road is always wet and all those taillights set fire to the pavement in a hundred splendid apparitions. The world is blurred in a halo of watery light and it pulses with the secrets you keep for each other.
It’s dark and it’s day and it’s dark and it’s day over and over and your dad keeps disappearing. But he keeps you close, your brother, shares his heat, never lets it escape out the window on a draft, even when you stand there looking out at the gray half-light of dawn and wonder if any of it is real.
Hi! So... I’m new to the whole fanfic writing life so here I am, making the first ever post on this blog.
Firstly, you can call me Sa and my pronouns are she/her/hers and I am not an english native speaker. I am a fan of The Mandalorian, Pedro Pascal and Taylor Swift, I am still immersing myself in the Star Wars universe besides Ep. 1-6. Everything else about me will remain a secret.
I decided to make this blog to share a story that I have in mind for a Mando AU (kinda). Most of the story will be inspired by Taylor Swift songs, specifically cowboy like me. I am still structuring each chapter but I have the first one written and will probably be posting it in a few days. Along with each chapter I will be doing “mood boards” to help you visualize the aesthetic.
I don’t think I have anything else to add right now besides:
- it will be 18+, NSFW and will contain smut
- the main character will technically not have a name but rather a “code name”
- there will be no use of y/n
- the main character is an escort
- the first chapter has a sex scene but it’s not with “mando”
- the title is “takes one to know one”
If you have any reccomendations for trigger warnings before the chapter, pelase let me know since i am all new to this. I want to make the experience as tolerant and loving as I can for everyone
“Isn’t this fun, Virgil?” Patton asks as he sits down onto the black and purple plaid blanket next to me.
“Yeah,” I admit.
“You just gotta give these things a chance. I know new things are scary, and I’m very proud that you gave this a chance. We’re very proud of you,” Patton says.
“Oh gosh, don’t get all mushy on me,” I say as my face heats up.
“Hey guys, I found a goose!” Roman yells as he chases a goose around.
“Roman,” Logan huffs, “leave the poor goose alone.”
“You’re not my dad!” He objects.
“Roman, how would you feel if a giant chased you around?” Patton asks.
Roman huffs before walking back to his chair by the fire.
“Isn’t the sky pretty?” Patton says as he lays down.
“Yeah.”
“Patton, do you want to play tag?” Roman asks.
Patton shoots up and excitedly yells, “you bet your bottom!”
The two run of further into the woods.
“Careful!” I yell.
A moment of awkward silence lays between us.
“How are you feeling? I know you don’t really like these social engagements,” Logan asks as he crosses his legs.
“I’m feeling fine. I’m not sure why I was so anxious, to be honest.”
“Feelings are illogical.”
“I know, I know.” I really am not in the mood to be lectured.
“You didn’t let me finished. Feelings are illogical, but that doesn’t mean that you’re illogical for feeling them.”
