#'no beta we die like maria' but then seeing her die

[inatrqnce]

Do you guys ever say something is gonna be so 'haha funny' and then when you actually watch it and experience it you get this feeling of utter dread and your heart physically hurts and you don't think you'll be able to sleep well because of it or is that just me.

[youwouldntdownloadapizza]

The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 1 - New Arrivals

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You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.6k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

chapter warnings: childbirth (mentioned)

Chapter 1 - New Arrivals

The first time you met Joel, he stank like shit. Literally, he smelled like he had rolled in it. You issued him soap, and sent him on his way. That was a loss to Jackson’s ledgers you were more than willing to take.

The second time, he smelled better. Unremarkable mostly, more of a neutral scent tinged with man smell around the edges. Nothing to write home about. Still, you issued him deodorant. Couldn’t take any chances.

He requested bullets, a basic first aid kit, and warm clothing. With Maria’s approval, you made the relevant deductions and issued the items at hand. You even sprung for wool socks. With a winter like this, he could use all the help he could get.

“You’re headed south, right?” you asked him as he packed a worn duffel bag.

“Colorado,” he replied. You waited, but that’s all he gave you. Guess he didn’t feel like elaborating.

“What about the girl, she need anything?”

He considered the offer, then asked, “You got any pens, pencils or anything? Notebooks? She likes to keep track of things, take notes. Draw, mostly,” he trailed off, scrubbing a hand over his face, “And we’re almost out of paper.”

You smiled at that. A girl after your own heart . “I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

* * *

You asked Tommy about him, once the two of them were gone. He didn’t have much to say.

“Barely talked to the girl. Probably know about as much about her as you do. Joel… Well, Joel’s an enigma.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “Come on, Tommy. I’m asking for the basics, not his social security number.”

Tommy sighed. “He’s brash, he’s protective, he’s opinionated… I don’t know what much else to tell you. He’s just Joel. One of those people you gotta get to know just by knowing ‘em, I guess.”

You blinked twice. “Supremely helpful, Tommy.”

* * *

The next time you met Joel, he smelled better but looked worse. You only half-remembered his eyes, but something in them last time had been warmer. The ones you saw now were… dead, almost. Like something within them had been destroyed. Whether he’d been the one to do the destroying or it had been done to him remained to be seen.

You’d seen him and the girl with Tommy and Maria in the dining hall that first time they’d come to town, wolfing down chili like they’d just discovered, well, chili. They ate slower now, both of them, not like they weren’t in a rush but like their heads were elsewhere. The girl seemed to stare into nowhere—not all the time, but it was distinct when she did it.

Joel didn’t zone out. No, if anything he was zoned in . On that poor girl who had been so full of life just months ago, now hollowed out like far too many others. You’d see about filling her back up later. But for now, he was the one that perplexed you. Why was he so focused on her? What had happened out there? Part of you never wanted to find out, but part of you really, really did.

Regardless, she needed new shoes. So you joined them. The man stopped mid-chew, looking up at you with trepidation.

“Hi,” you smiled, “glad you two made it back in one piece.”

“Me too,” he replied, turning his attention back to his cud. You couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a joke or not. You turned your attention to the girl.

“You’re Ellie, right? I’m Doe. Or that’s what most folks around here call me, anyway.”

“Doe?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Like a deer?”

“A female deer,” you winked back at her. She stared at you blankly. 

“It’s a song,” Joel muttered to her softly, “from before.”

“Oh,” Ellie nodded. The silence dragged, but thankfully you came prepared.

“Cobbler?” you offered bowls to each of them. It was fresh from the oven, still steaming and smelling of cinnamon.

“Yes, please!” Ellie yanked the bigger bowl towards herself, broccoli forgotten. She got a few bites in before Joel intervened, pulling the sugar aside and reinstating the vegetables. The girl frowned at that, but his pointed look said not to bother arguing. So she didn’t.

“Don’t worry, it’ll still be hot in a minute.” You tucked into your own cobbler, savoring the warm sweetness as it glided across your tongue. Even in Jackson, it was a delicacy. But it was spring, and the cherries were here. And you’d accounted for everything.

“Did you want something?” Joel asked, finishing his own plate and reaching for the cobbler.

“Ellie needs new shoes.”

“We’ve got it handled,” he said.

“Do you, though? You haven’t got much to trade with, and we’ve got plenty in inventory. That’s kind of what it’s there for. Why suffer blisters when communism’s got your back?”

“Can I?” Ellie’s face lit up. You liked seeing her eyes like that: brighter. They belonged that way.

Joel swallowed his cobbler, mulling over the idea. “After lunch,” he agreed, nodding to the eager teen. “Finish your cobbler first.”

* * *

Ellie’s new light-up sneakers lit the way as you exited the storeroom through your office. Joel had insisted on a sensible pair as well, but you couldn’t deny the kid a little whimsy.

“Maria give you your patrol schedule yet?” you asked him, nodding to the well-worn chalkboard in the corner. Routes on the left, days and times up top. Names filled in the boxes in between, a testament to your logistical wizardry.

“Not yet,” he said, crossing to examine it. “Guess she doesn’t need to, now.”

“I’ve got you paired up with Tommy. Seemed easiest, to get you started. You’ll be headed up to the lodge, it’s a pretty standard route. Get the occasional runner, but it’s wildlife more than anything.”

He nodded, heading toward where Ellie was already scampering out the door.

“See you Tuesday, I suppose. Guessing you’re the one to check-in with?” he asked.

You smiled at his correct assumption. 

“Sure am.”

* * *

You didn’t know Joel well enough to make assumptions about his punctuality, but Tommy was never late. Even you were late from time to time, often getting swept up in tasks and losing track of things. But the man was annoyingly punctual. According to Maria, that’s part of why she fell for him.

Tommy was late today.

You crossed to the large observation window lining one wall of your office. It gave you a clear view of the front gates and surrounding guard stations, but there was no sign of Tommy anywhere. Or Joel, for that matter.

A knock on your door interrupted your analysis. It was Eugene. The grizzled old man acted anything but, a smile breaking out across his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, Doe! How’s things?” He asked.

“Fine. I’m looking for Tommy, actually–”

“Didn’t you hear?” He interrupted, “Maria’s gone into labor. He’s with her at the clinic.”

Your stomach dropped. Here you were preparing to chew Tommy out for his tardiness when the whole time he’d been busy becoming a father. A very valid excuse.

“And Joel?” you asked. “They were supposed to patrol together this afternoon, lodge route.”

“Not sure. He wasn’t with them. Listen, I gotta go grab the baby blanket I made and drop it off, but you and I need to have a drink one of these days. I worry your hair’s gonna start falling out in clumps if you don’t take a break eventually.”

“Yeah, but then what would you do, patrol out to the dam with Jesse? There’s a reason I don’t pair you two up anymore.”

“Because you don’t like blackberries?” he chided.

You frowned, “No, because you spent so long harvesting them your 8 hour patrol took 12. I was this close to sending out a search party. A little planning prevents a lot of headaches, Eugene.”

He turned to leave, looking back over his shoulder to get the last word. “You know what else is good for headaches? Whiskey.”

You sent Eugene on his way with instructions to give Maria your best. You’d visit her when the baby was here. For now, you had a community to protect. 

With Tommy out of commission and Joel MIA, you’d have to find someone else to help you cover this patrol route. Dina was always a solid partner, if she was around. Devon the bartender could generally be counted on to have your back. Eugene would be ideal, but you didn’t want to make him work a double.

You headed to the stables to see who you could find. Upon entering, the warmth of the building and company of the animals soothed your unease, if only slightly. 

You found your horse’s stall, the gray spotted mare whinnying at your arrival.

“Hey, Bailey,” you smiled, offering her a slightly bruised apple. She took it gratefully, big brown eyes closing in enjoyment.

“She’s beautiful,” a voice said from behind you, making you jump.

“Sorry,” the voice stepped into the light, “It’s just me.”

“Joel,” you took a deep breath in an attempt to slow your racing heartbeat.

“Sorry I’m late–” 

You cut him off with a raised hand, looking him in the eye. 

“You’re not with your brother,” you finally said, more of a statement than a question.

“You’re not with your best friend,” he replied, offering no further details.

You sighed, debating arguing with him about it before deciding the subject was better left untouched. You had your reasons for staying away from childbirth. If Joel had his own, he was entitled to that. You weren’t going to press him on it, so long as he didn’t press you.

“Come on,” you said, swinging your leg over Bailey’s back and settling into the saddle, “We’re making up for lost time.”

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[dancingtotuyo]

Before | 4. the wild has come for you

A Woman Story

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Character death, gun/gunshot, descriptions of blood and gore

Note: no beta we die like Gabe in this chapter

Words: 1176

Series Masterlist | Woman Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Maria pants, hands on her knees watching as life twitches from the infected, blood pouring out on the white snow until he finally stops. She inhales deeply, regaining her composure. He came out of nowhere. Maybe he’s a straggler. She can only hope, but there are likely others around. 

Maria turns back around. “Gabe? Come on, we need to get moving.”

Gabe sits in the snow, back pressed to a tree. His gloves lay in the snow next to him. His eyes squeeze shut. 

“What are you doing? We need to get out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Maria.”

“What the fuck do you mean-“ She stops. 

His eyes open, usually light and teasing now swirling with a serious darkness, rattling Maria to her bones. She’s never seen that from him. He’s always happy, smiling, finding the light in the world, but not this time.

“Where?”

“Maria.”

“Where, Gabriel?”

He holds up his palm. “Got me right where the glove was worn through.” 

“Fuck.” She huffs spinning around. She can’t look at him, can’t focus, can’t be expected to do this. She takes a few steps away. 

“Maria.” 

She doesn’t respond. 

“Maria, where are you going? Get the fuck back here and finish it.”

“Will you shut the fuck up! I can’t think with you yelling like that.”

“There’s nothing to fucking think about!” 

He sounds angry. It sounds so wrong coming from him. Gabe doesn’t get angry. He’s the optimist in a hopeless world, but there’s no hope in this. There is no alternative outcome.

“I can’t shoot you, Gabe!” Maria yells back. Pressure builds behind her eyes. “I can’t do it.” her voice cracks. 

“You have to.” 

She knows he’s right. She thinks of you and the child growing in your womb, the happiness Gabe brings you. 

“Maria, you can’t think about her.”

“She’s my best friend!”

“She’s my wife! It’s my kid!” Tears leak out of his eyes, but he quickly wipes them away. “We don’t have a choice.” 

“I can’t make her a widow!”

“She already is one!”

It pulls the oxygen out of her lungs like she’s been kicked in the ribs. They stare at each other in silence. The wind stops whistling. The birds stop chirping. Nature has never been so quiet. 

Gabe checks his pistol, throwing it in the snow several feet away. He does the same with his hunting knife. “You’ll want these… and this.” He covers the bite with the sleeve of his shirt and peels off his coat so as not to get blood on it. 

Gabe pulls two photographs from his flannel pocket. A creased photo from before a family photo taken weeks before outbreak day. His thumb runs over it. He’ll see them soon. He believes that. Even now, he hears them calling his name. It threatens to pull him away, but his love for you wins the battle in this losing game. His other photo is a Polaroid from your wedding day. He memorizes your smile, and thinks about his last moments with you. He felt the baby kick this morning. His lips tick upward, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. That’s all he’ll ever get of the life you two built together. A light to leave behind, one he hopes shines bright enough to draw you out of darkness. 

“I’m sorry, Doleful.” He whispers, kissing your photo. 

Maria can barely bring herself to gather Gabe’s belongings. Her hands shake. She bares the weight of so much, but this might just be the heaviest. 

“Take care of her.” Gabe says. “She won’t let anyone else, you know. She has to take care of herself, especially right now. Don't let her be alone.”

Maria wipes her tears away. Her pistol is hot against her thigh. She manages a nod. 

“Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

She nods again. 

“I need to hear you say it, Maria.” Gabe doesn’t stop the tears as they slide down his cheeks. 

“Gabe,” she chokes out. 

“Please.”

She takes a steadying breath. He’s never seen Maria shaken like this. Maria can’t remember the last time she let her feelings come across her this physically. “I’ll make sure they both get through this. They won’t be alone. I promise.”

“Make sure she smiles and laughs. Don’t let her go back to what she used to be. She’s got such a beautiful smile…” Gabe smiles letting the memories flash behind his eyes. 

Maria nods, making sure the horses are secured. They’re trained not to run off at the sound of gunshots, but she can’t risk it. The end is so close. 

“Tell Tommy to keep teasing her. She acts like she hates it, but really she loves it. Reminds her of life before.”

Maria manages a smile, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Okay.”

“Tell her she’s gonna do great at this mom thing, 'cause she is.” Gabe takes a breath. He wants it to steady him, but it fails. He’s leaving behind so much. “Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I love her. I love her so much. She made my life so much better. Most importantly, tell her to live a life so full- it’s bursting at the seams.” 

“I will.” She swallows. The tears cascade down her cheeks as she pulls her pistol from the holster. It clicks. 

“We had a good run.” He looks up at her over the barrel. She falters. “It’s okay, Maria.” He nods until she nods along. He looks back down at the pictures in his hands. “I’m gonna be okay.”

It hangs in the air. He’s done talking. He’s said his final words. It’s up to her to make it quick. 

Maria closes her eyes. It has to be done. It’s her responsibility to Jackson, to keep people safe. Gabe wants you to be safe. Deep breaths in and out. Her eyes open. The bullet lands right between Gabe’s eyes. 

The shot rings in her ears the entire way back to Jackson. It’s a miracle no other infected come across her path. She’s a sitting duck, completely out of it. 

Tommy is waiting at the gate when she gets back. Everyone knows when they see the empty saddle. It’s dead silent as she enters back into the safety of Jackson’s tall walls. She hands the reins to Tommy. She sees is in his eyes too, the loss of a best friend, a brother. 

“Clinic or Home?”

He swallows. “Home.”

Maria nods moving in the direction of your home. People wave and say hello. She doesn’t respond or even process it. All she hears is the gunshot. Her vision is red with his blood on the snow, hazy with the smoke of his burning body. He couldn’t even have a proper burial. 

She lets herself into your house. She watches as your face falls, your legs crumple. Maria catches you holding you as you sob. She feels you slipping away and already, she’s broken her promise to Gabe. Maria’s not sure she’ll ever be able to bring you back.  

[bobby-r2d2-floyd]

back in town (rhett abbott x reader)

authors note: hey guys! it feels like 30 years but i finally have the second part of life goes on (read part one here if you want!) i feel like this can be read as a stand alone, or as a continuation. im thinking only a one more part to this?

warnings: language, mentions of panties, mentions of rhett getting a boner towards the end, maria and rhett kissing, sibling violence? (a pillow gets thrown at some ones head)

not proof read well, no beta we die like men in this

word count: 2.5k

------------

It’s been almost 10 years since you last stepped foot into Amelia County, and not a damned thing has changed except that some stores have closed down. 

You still remember the morning dew on your skin your last night in town, and how Rhett’s arm felt draped over you as the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountain tops. 

After dropping out of art school you bounced around from major city to major city all up and down the east coast. You worked at a couple of art galleries, you had enough experience to get by but since you dropped out just before graduation, you never quite became the curator anywhere; but that was okay with you. Three years you spent in Chicago, wasting your time. Your heart was never in it, it was stuck here in Wabang with a certain Abbott boy and, yeah, you were good at what you did but you never saw yourself doing art as a career, it was always your dad’s dream for you. You wanted to be in the rodeo shows, you were a decent roper, dappled in barrel racing, cutting.. Never brave enough for the bulls, though, that was always Rhett’s thing. So when you happened to be passing through Kentucky, you thought ‘what the hell’ and sought out the arena director and asked if there was anything that you could do to help out and as luck would have it, they needed a barrel racer after one of the other girls broke her collarbone and required surgery. 

It was like the rodeo gods or whoever was up there was smiling down on you that day, you knew that they didn’t just take people off the street, and that most people had to work for spots to even be considered, but it was a smaller rodeo, not one of the large ones that you would see televised from a big city. Despite it being years since you were in the saddle, you finished in third place for the night.

You toured around with them for years before moving up to a bit bigger of a rodeo, and that rodeo happened to land you in Montana, and then Colorado before finally dumping off in Cheyenne, Wyoming.

You took the day before it was due to start to go back home, see your mom and siblings. They’d be 16 and 18 soon, hard to believe you left them when they were still just kids, you missed a ton of milestones for them, only discussing them over facetime and the one time they were able to make it out to Chicago for Christmas one year. 

You celebrated grades and puberty and boyfriends and girlfriends from across the United States. You wanted nothing more than to hug your baby sister when she got her first period at 10 years old, 2 whole years before you even had yours, and when she went through her first heartbreak at 15; gave the bastard everything because he convinced her that he loved her. You hated that you weren’t there to help your mom out when your brother was going through his destructive phase.

You walk in the front door to your house, surprised that your mom hasn’t been robbed yet and you let out a small laugh, “mama?” you call out, shutting the storm door behind you so the wind wouldn’t take it away when it tried to self shut. You don’t get an answer so you continue the trek across your house, stopping occasionally and listening if anyone was even home, it wasn’t uncommon for your mom to leave the door unlocked when no one was home, your closest neighbors were the Abbott’s and even they lived about 2 miles away. 

You walked out to the barn, smiled when your old horse rubbed against your shoulder, “hey boy, where’d everyone go?” you ask as you give him some scratches behind his jaw. Almost as if he understood what you said he turns to look at a flier that was tacked up on the side of the barn door and you let out a laugh. 

Of course the county fair was going on. Your sister used to beg you to take you every single day during the week and you see that that was still the case. You give the gentle giant a couple treats from the feed closet and give them to him before heading out back to the front to the truck you’re renting.

The drive to town was short despite living so far away, you were lucky to find a place to park where you did and you started to make your way in, paying for a ticket and stopping to talk to the few people who remembered you. 

“-for Amelia County’s rodeo royalty, Rhett Abbott!” you hear over the loudspeaker and make your way to the grandstands to watch. “Rhett’s first ride is on Guiness tonight, he’s been on a roll lately, coming out on top every ride for the last 10 rides that he’s done, let’s see if he can make 11.” You perch yourself up against the bars, pulling your Stetson a lower down your face but high enough that you can still see and you watch him go the full 8 seconds on a bull that looked like it was out for blood. You screamed along with the rest of the crowd when he came out on top for the first round of riders. The smile on his face warms your heart, it’s a smile you hadn’t seen since before you left. In all the pictures that your mom had shown you, very few smiles were true Rhett smiles, that smile was saved for when he was winning, on his horse, and with you. You began to walk over to where he was, you couldn’t wait to wrap your arms around him again, you just hoped that he would be excited to see you. 

Just as you were rounding the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks, your heart breaking because of Rhett for the second time. Not even 10 feet in front of you, Rhett had his arms tight around Maria Olivares. The one girl no one could ever compete with, the only other girl Rhett ever had eyes for, aside from you but of course you didn’t know that. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a deep kiss, one that left him completely breathless when he pulled away and he smiled down at her like she had hung the sun.

You backed up slowly, not wanting to bother anyone but of course a different rider had other plans, “watch where the fuck youre going, bitch.'' They spit out and it gets the attention of Rhett and Maria and you mumble out an apology before quickly darting away, wiping your eyes as you make your way back to the truck and out of the fair entirely. 

“Fucking knew that coming back home would be the worst idea.” you mumble as you throw your hair onto the passenger seat. You run your fingers through your hair and pull it up into a messy ponytail before driving back to your mom’s place where you fall asleep on the couch.

“Hey babygirl, why don’ you wake up and go upstairs?” your mom gently shakes you awake and you let out a mumble of a response and she laughs “come on. Wake up or ‘m gonna sic your brother ‘nd sister on you.” 

You groan but sit up anyways, “time is it?” 

“Just after midnight, Rhett came out on top’ah all his rides.” she tells you and you just hum and nod before standing up and stretching. She pulls you in for a long hug and you’re able to relax for the first time in what felt like years.

“Where’s Liv and Jase?” you ask, kicking off your boots finally and head towards the stairs.

“Olivia’s with her girlfriends and Jason’s with some of his football buddies.” she says and you nod and make your way up the stairs, pausing to use the bathroom and brush your teeth before making your way into your room. You can’t be bothered to open the duffle bag your mom must have brought in for you and you strip down to your tank top and panties before crawling into bed and falling into a deep sleep again.

When you awake the next morning it’s abrupt. You can feel someone breathing down on your face and you open your eyes and see Olivia’s brown ones staring right back at you. 

“Mornin.” she says and you groan and kick her off the bed, she laughs the entire way down and you roll over, pulling your blanket over your face and you try to get some more sleep. “C’mon, you gotta wake up, mama’s makin’ a full breakfast.” 

“Get out of my room.” 

“Not ‘til you’re ass it out of-ow! Mama, she’s thrown’ shit again!” Olivia calls and you hear your mom call up the stairs.

“Stop throwin’ shit at your sister! Get down ‘ere and eat your breakfast ‘fore Jason brings the whole team over!” 

“Toss me my jeans, will ya?” you ask, finally sitting up and Olivia throw’s the pants right at your face, “okay, I deserved that.” 

“Yeah, ya did. Why’s this your first time comin’ home in ten years? You didn’t even send an invitation when you graduated…” she says sadly and you sigh.

“Let’s go eat, need to talk to you and mom.” you tell her and she nods and you stand up and pull the jeans on before making your way down stairs. Your mom already has a plate made up for you, just like how you always took it as a kid, extra bacon, sunny side up eggs, and chocolate chip waffles. “Thanks mama,” you kiss her head and move around the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee and orange juice before sitting down at the table.

“So… what have you been doin’ these past few years?” your mom asks as she takes her seat, “any big art jobs?”

“Um, actually I dropped out. A semester before graduation..” you say, not looking up at either of them. 

“Oh?” it’s all your mom can manage out and you nod. 

“Yeah, went through the program and it just… didn’t feel right? I’m uh, actually doing rodeos now. Barrel racing, some cutting.. Been ‘round the country. Make pretty good money for the level that I compete at.” you inform them and your mom looks surprised and your sister who looks angry.

“And did you not think to call? Or.. come back?” 

“Liv, ’m sorry, okay? I know I should have called or come home after leaving school. It’s just… everyone was so proud of me for leaving that it was easier to believe that I graduated than to tell you I didn’t.” you look up at her and she lets out a sigh. 

“I still love you, but that was a bitch more.” she says and you laugh.

“Yeah, it was.” you mom just rolls her eyes and you all fall into an easy conversation about rodeo and how the season is just about over.

“Rhett was invited to compete in Cheyenne this weekend, will you be there?” your mom asks and you nod.

“Yeah I think his event’ll be the last of the night. They usually do the bronco’s then bulls last, I’ll compete somewhere in the middle.” you tell them, leaning back in your chair and you take a sip of your coffee. “How have things been around here?” 

“Well, Perry Abbott went to jail, he and one of the Tillerson’s got in a fight and unfortunately Perry uh… Well the funeral for Trevor was a few years back… I think when you were 23?” Olivia says and you look at her confused.

“No shit..” you say in disbelief. Perry had always been a little strange to you but never kill-a-man strange, “how are the rest of the family?” 

“Well, Amy ran away, right after Perry got arrested.. Royal and Cecelia have been doing the best they can with the ranch. Rhett and Maria took off too shortly after the arrest but came back a year or so ago to help his parents afford to keep the place running. He earned enough from the rodeo business to help keep things afloat a little while longer.” your mom continued and you bite your lip.

“Did they get married or something?” your mom shoots you a knowing look and shakes her head.

“Nope, no marriage, no ring, no surprise babies. Perry’ll be out of jail soon, he was only sentenced for 10 years, he’s served half that already, so there’s always after he gets released.” 

“I should go, get ready and drive back to Cheyenne to make it in time for the rodeo.” you stand from the table and take your dishes to the sink. “You’re more than welcome to come. We have a special seating section where if you tell an usher your family they’ll let you sit in.” 

“We’ll be there honey.” your mom gives you a smile and you ruffle Olivia’s hair.

“Tell Jason he’s invited and can bring a friend.” you say on your way up the stairs and take a quick shower before throwing on clean clothes and heading back downstairs. 

You throw a goodbye and see you later over your shoulder before making your way back to Cheyenne. You manage to dodge Rhett all night, in fact it isn’t even until your name is announced that he knows you’re at the rodeo, let alone in it.

He stood by and watched you, just like you watched him last night. He couldn’t believe he was actually seeing you, for the first time in a decade. He watched until he couldn’t see you anymore and when that happened he made his way back to the horse stalls, walking straight to you as if he had internal guidance right to where you were.

You stood there, taking care removing your saddle and playing it on its rack off to the side. His eyes tracked your every move, taking in every detail about you. Your subtle weight gain in the right places and the loss in the others. Your jeans filled out more than when he last saw you and he hated the immediate reaction his body had, the hot lighting that zipped right down his spine and into his cock. He was shamelessly checking you out, Maria be damned. He watched as you turned and talked to some of the other girls you were up against and they all congratulated you for a great run. 

You finally turn and look his way, your breath catching and he feels a smile form on his face, heart melting at the way you say his name, despite saying it tentatively. 

“Hey.. Rhett.” 

let me know if you want to be added to my rhett abbott taglist or if you would like to be tagged in all of my fics!

[bogartchive]

in sickness and in health [gepard x oc]

a peek into what maria and natasha discussed

warnings: oc x canon. a lot of self-indulgence. no beta we die like cocolia (literally just finished typing this up and immediately went to post it)

main story

-

stupid, stupid, stupid. why did you leave him like that?

maria wanted to talk more with him, they really did. but suddenly the room felt too small and the murmurs from other patients rang too loudly in their ears and the bitter smell of antiseptics was just too overwhelming. gepard was about to say something before they stomped out of the clinic. they wanted to stay, but at the same time they needed some alone time. the tightness in their chest moved up, twisting into a prickly sensation in their tear ducts. with a shaky sigh, they sat down beside the clinic’s entrance, hugging their knees.

the door opened, and maria didn’t need to look up to know who it was. “you alright?” came natasha’s gentle voice. maria released a muffled sound of affirmation from their throat. there’s a sniffle or two before they wiped their teary eyes with their hand.

“he’s awake.” they said.

“he is.” said natasha.

“i.. i don’t know what came over me.” maria avoids natasha’s gaze. “it’s as if an automaton grizzly had been lifted from my shoulders.” their usually calm voice cracks a bit at the end, and they stop to breath for a moment.

lifeless brown eyes met with red-colored ones, but under the warm light emitting from the lamp, one could almost see a faint glimmer. “he is awake.” maria repeated.

the senior doctor’s expression softens. “and you, my friend, need some sleep.” she bends down slightly to cup maria’s cheek. “when was the last time you even ate?” her fingers trace the outline of dark circles under their eyes before gently pinching their cheek. the younger medic doesn’t respond, and averts their gaze once more.

“i’m fine.” maria tugs natasha’s hand away, “i’ll be back in a bit—” they try to stand, but suddenly their legs feel like jelly and they wobble. if natasha hadn’t supported them in time, they would have toppled over and hit their head on the ground.

“maria.” 

“just— give me a minute.” they panted, dusting themselves off.

“maria.” a warning tone. it’s enough to make maria flinch, and there’s a flash of nervousness in their eyes.

natasha sighs and straightens her colleague’s collar. “you haven’t slept for 2 days, much less had a proper meal yet.” her voice was laced with worry, but there’s a sternness to it that would make anyone comply with her orders wishes. “tell me, what does a lack of sleep do to a person?”

“...impaired decision-making.”

“mhm. and as doctors, we always need to be of sound mind. we have our patients’ lives on our hands.”

maria nods slowly in understanding. they glance at the clinic doors. maybe if they could check on him once again, their fatigue would be gone—

“you are forbidden from entering the clinic starting today until tomorrow.”

they gawked at natasha’s gentle smile. “but…”

“i’ve already informed mikkel, and he’ll be here shortly to take you home.” she waves her phone in front of them, and maria could see the faint outline of natasha’s messages to their roommate. if they had dog ears, they surely would have been put down like a kicked puppy.

a hand squeezed their shoulder comfortingly, “captain gepard will be fine. though if you want to check on him yourself…” natasha beamed at them, “the sooner you recover, the faster you’ll be able to do it.”

maria slumps their shoulders. natasha was truly a hard opponent to argue with.

[derpinathebrave]

ICE -In Case of Emergency ~ IceMav

READ ON AO3

So I got the brainworms again. This time from @pilotsandgays and now I've started a chaptered fic of Ice and Mav being exes (slightly nasty exes) but Ice is still listed as Mav's emergency contact.

I'm posting the first chapter here but the rest will be only on AO3 unless ya'll really want it on both

SUMMARY: "I'm your emergency contact. You know, you're supposed to take that out when you leave someone." Commander Tom "Iceman" Kazansky has spent five years trying to forget Pete Mitchell ever existed let alone walked out on him. Everything is brought to a boil when he is called after Pete is in a serious accident and Tom is the emergency contact. Now Ice has to face up to some tough questions; why did Maverick walk out on him without a goodbye? And why is he helping the man that destroyed his heart?

TAGS: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Sarah Kazansky, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Exes to Lovers, Hospitals and Medical, Whump, not much beta we die like goose, Canon Compliant, mostly canon compliant anyway, Period-Typical Homophobia, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Mention of Aids crisis, characters being added later

WORDS: 3059

Chapter 1: A Ringing Phone

The phone was ringing. Commander Tom “Iceman” Kazansky could hear it through the front door as he struggled to juggle his paperwork and get the key working in the lock. 

It was still a little strange to have his own phoneline after living so many years from carrier to carrier and sharing with literally everyone else. Every time it rang he jumped at the noise and then rushed to pick it up. Usually it was Slider, his mum or Sarah. They were the only people that really knew he was in a permanent residence again, and the only people he really cared enough to give his number to. 

The sticky lock finally gave and Iceman shouldered his way through the door. He would need to fix that soon, the way the door jammed in its frame and the lock took a specific wiggle to get the key to turn. 

He tossed the paperwork down onto his coffee table as he strode to the kitchen. The phone fell silent as he reached out to grab it from the wall. He pulled it to his ear anyway, haring the dial-tone. Rolling his eyes, Tom set the phone back in the cradle. 

The house was small, single story and sparsely furnished. He walked back to the front door and pulled his boots off, setting them in place on the shoe rack. The door opened into the living room, a couch long enough to fit him on it lying down, a coffee table and a TV on a chest of drawers. He had bought two low bookshelves to line the wall beneath the window that looked out to his neighbours fence, but they were currently rather empty. His Top Gun trophy was propped up on top of the one to the right. Sarah kept threatening to come and decorate for him, but her work hadn’t allowed for that yet. 

Ice moved through the living room and down the short hall to his bedroom. This was marginally more comfortable. He had a queen bed with a crocheted blanket his mother had pressed upon him when he had let her come and see his new place. It was a mixture of blues and greys and made him think of the ocean. Beyond the bed, he had matching nightstands with lamps, a laundry hamper and a winged arm-chair (another addition from his mother). He mostly just tossed clothes onto the armchair until it annoyed him enough to put them away in the cupboard.

As he was unbuttoning his shirt, the phone began to ring once more. He went to answer it.

“Hello?” He said, resisting the automatic urge to add “Commander Kazansky” as he had to at the office. 

“Hello, is that Tomas Kazansky?” A feminine voice said. 

“Speaking.” Ice frowned. He didn’t know this voice. A simmer of anxiety settled in his chest. 

“Mr Kazansky, my name is Maria, I’m a nurse at Holy Spirit Hospital. You were listed as the emergency contact for Peter Mitchell?” Maria said. 

Tom’s anxiety shot straight to a boil. His hand gripped the phone tight, his heart pounding loud enough to drown out the crackle on the phoneline. He realised she was waiting for an answer.

“Yes. Uh,” he blinked and shook his head a little. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Kazansky, he’s been in a serious accident and is currently in emergency,” Maria carried on in a solemn voice.

“What type of accident?” Ice forced out. 

“He had a pretty serious collision on a motorcycle.” Maria said. “He’s stable for now, conscious but in pain, and he’ll be going in for surgery this evening. If you wanted to come down and see him, you’re welcome to. He’ll need a change of clothes and some toiletries.”

Ice turned and pressed his forehead against the kitchen wall beside the phone. He took a long, slow breath in, held it a moment and then let it slide back out just as slowly. 

“Thank you,” he said, hating himself, “I’ll be there in about an hour.”

“OK. Just let our Emergency receptionist know you’re here to see Peter and they’ll let you through. I will let you know he can only have one visitor at a time, so if you plan to bring other people, they won’t be able to come in with you,” Maria said.

“Thank you,” he said again. 

“No problem. Thank you.” The phone disconnected. 

Iceman placed the phone back with extra care. As much as he wanted to smash it to pieces, that wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He did allow himself thirty more seconds of pressing his face against the wall in despair.

Heaving a sigh, Ice straightened once more and headed back to his bedroom. He filled a backpack with sweatpants, a soft t-shirt, boxers and socks. He moved to the bathroom, taking a disposable razor and spare toothbrush from beneath the sink. 

As he straightened, Ice caught his own face in the mirror. His blue eyes were slightly wild.  He could not go into that hospital room and let Maverick see him like that. He paused, staring himself down until the startled expression had settled back into his trademark detachment. He toyed with the idea of a shower but decided it would only amp him up more if he had to wait longer. May as well just get this whole thing over with. He buttoned his uniform back up, tucking it in once more. 

Ice let himself have one more second of hesitation before he grabbed the backpack, pulled his boots on and relocked his janky front door. 

 ===

His jaw ached, knuckles white on the steering wheel and shoulders tense. Ice negotiated traffic with extra care. He was desperately trying to stay calm. His ice-cold facade was slipping and melting every time he remembered where he was going and why. 

The sun was closing in on the horizon by the time he pulled into the hospital parking lot. Tom followed the signs for Emergency, completely unable to calm the thundering of his heart or the urge to bite at the inside of his cheek. He took up a soft mantra that everything would be fine, he would be A-OK and this would be fine. 

The lady at reception gave him directions down to the bay that Maverick was in. Hefting the backpack, and giving one last attempt at masking his anxiety, Ice headed for the bed. 

When he peeked through the curtain the bay was empty. No bed at all. After a moment he noticed the motorcycle helmet and boots thrust out of the way under a bench and he knew he was where Maverick had been at the very least. He slipped into the bay, leaving the curtain open. 

Ice took a deep breath. He gripped both fists together and then shook them out. It made him feel a little better. He did it again. 

With his body slightly calmed, he bent to look at the helmet. It was a mess. Deep gouges ran across the left side, the visor had been torn away completely. Ice swallowed. 

“Excuse me, sir?” a man said from behind him. 

Ice straightened quickly and spun. A tall, orderly in orange scrubs stood at the gap in the curtain. 

“Can I help you?” The orderly said. His eyes scanned Ice, taking in the shiny wings on his uniform. 

“Uh, yeah, the man that was in this bay, Pete Mitchell, where is he?” Ice said

“Are you the next of kin?” The orderly said, eyes narrowing a little. 

Ice hesitated for a split second. “Yes,” he said. 

“He’s been taken up to surgery. They’re prepping him now,” the orderly gave him a sympathetic smile. “You’re in the wrong place. If you want to grab those things I’ll give you directions to surgery.”

Ice nodded in reply, pulling the corners of his lips up but not really smiling. 

He grabbed the helmet and boots, following the orderly back to the crossroads of the hallways. After extensive and confusing instructions, Ice ventured back to the elevators and headed up to the surgery wards. 

Stuffed into the back corner of the elevator, a small kid with a very broken arm in a bed taking up the majority of the room, Iceman chewed on his cheek once more. Of course it hadn’t been as easy as bringing Maverick clothes and organising him a ride home. Of course the idiot needed surgery.

He squeezed out of the elevator on the floor he needed and followed the signs through the labyrinthine corridors. Finally he came upon another nurse’s station. 

“I’m here to see Peter Mitchell,” Iceman said, resettling the boots in his grip. 

“Let me see,” the nurse focused on her computer for a moment, tapping keys slowly. “Sure, he’s just gone in with Doctor Yanch. The surgery is set to be a minimum of two hours. You’re welcome to wait in our relations room, or head down to the cafeteria and come back closer to his end time.”

“Thank you,” Ice said, despite wanting to slam his head into her counter. “I’ll head to the cafeteria.”

The nurse gave him a nod and turned back to her work. Ice made his way back to the elevators slowly.

As he was sitting in the cafeteria, ignoring the stares of civilians because he was still in his khakis, Ice questioned his sanity. Only Pete Mitchell brought this side of him out. The side that questioned what the hell he was doing. 

He ate a truly awful sandwich and drank worse coffee. The helmet was set on the table in front of him and Tom found his eyes straying to it every few seconds. The paint had once resembled Maverick’s flight helmet, the white and red lines leading over the back and “Maverick” stamped across there rather than the front. The eagle on the side was almost completely destroyed, gouged and scratched into an amorphous red and white blob. 

If he had not seen the state of the helmet, he probably would have already gone. It was only the deeply unsettling scars on the helmet that kept him in the cafeteria, drinking awful coffee and waiting two hours. 

When the time was up, he stood, stretched and headed back to surgery. His heart took up a new tattoo of anxiety in his chest as he drew closer to the ward. The nurse directed him down to recovery and warned him that Pete was recovering and the anaesthetic was going to linger for a while. 

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell was pale, lips a little purple on the edges. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep. He was shirtless but mostly covered with a paper gown. His left arm was in a sling, securing his wrist up by his right collarbone. As Ice followed the arm to the shoulder there was large bandages covering from his bicep to the rise of his neck. Mav’s lower body was covered with a hospital blanket. He was still hooked into a drip of fluids and a second of blood. 

Tom’s chest squeezed, all air escaping at the sigh of Maverick. It was much worse than he had expected. A weird mixture of relief and irritation washed through him. He set the backpack down in the corner, out of the way, and turned back to find a doctor pushing into the room. 

“Hello, I’m Doctor Yanch, you are?” The doctor said, eyes flickering over Ice’s uniform. 

“I’m Tom Kazansky, his—“ Ice almost said wingman, aborting at the last second and amending it to “— next-of-kin.” 

“Ah,” Doctor Yanch nodded. “I was just coming to do my post-surgery assessment. I was Peter’s surgeon.”

A nurse in teal scrubs bustled in, ignoring them both and heading straight for Pete.

Ice glanced at Pete but he hadn’t moved and his eyes were still closed. “OK.” He said to the doctor, “can you explain his injuries to me? I haven’t had a chance to hear the damage.”

“Oh,” surprise flickered across the surgeons face before he spoke once more. “Pete sustained a proximal humeral fracture dislocation. Meaning that his upper arm fractured and dislocated at the same time. I’ve set the bone with screws and relocated the joint through surgery. He was also brought in with rib fractures and a haemothorax, blood in his chest cavity that had collapsed his left lung.”

Tom realised he wasn’t breathing and inhaled through his nose, waiting for the doctor to continue. 

“His lung has reinflated and we’re confident the internal bleed has stopped. He will be receiving blood for another few hours and fluids.” The Doctor gave a tight smile to show he was finished. 

“Thank you,” Ice said, voice a little hoarse. 

“Not a problem.” The doctor turned away and began scribbling in Pete’s chart, mumbling to the nurse. When he was done, he hung the chart back at the end of the bed and walked out. 

Ice watched as the nurse leaned over and took Maverick’s right hand from under the blanket. She began squeezing it and calling his name. His heart began a horrid tap dance on his nerves once more.

“Peter?” The nurse called again, a little louder. 

“Try Mav,” Ice said, stepping a little closer and immediately regretting it. 

The nurse looked at him in surprise. 

“His nickname, its Mav or Maverick, try that,” Ice explained at her expression. “He hates Peter.”

“Mav?” She called, “it’s time to wake up now.”

Slowly, Mav’s eyes flickered and opened. He frowned at the nurse and began to move. She pinned him down with a firm hand, clearly practised at this. 

“No, no, no moving, Mav,” she said to him. “You’ve been in surgery. We fixed that shoulder up for you. Are you in pain?”

“No,” Mav mumbled. “Yes.” 

The sound of his voice sent fresh spikes through Ice but he remained still and silent in the background. 

“My chest hurts,” Mav said, his voice slurred. 

“Yes, you’ve got some fractured ribs. Can you squeeze my hand?” She placed her fingers in his left hand and nodded when Mav obeyed. “Good. Alright, I’m going to let you wake up a little more and then I’ll be back to run some more tests. You can chat to your friend but don’t move too much, OK?” She said.

“Mm-hmm.” Mav gave a tight nod already closing his eyes again. 

The nurse shot Ice a tight smile and bustled back out into the hall. He merely watched her go before turning back to where Maverick was laying. The other man had his eyes closed again but there was tension through his forehead, showing Ice that he was still awake. 

Ice gripped his fists, ignored the nausea that was rising and falling in his abdomen, and sat on the uncomfortable armchair by the window. When he glanced at Maverick his eyes were open and staring at the ceiling. They shifted, catching Ice’s and holding for a protracted moment. Pete blinked, shook his head a little and closed his eyes once more. 

He didn’t open his eyes again for another fifteen minutes. Ice was watching, cataloguing the way Maverick’s tension would sink out of his body as he slipped into sleep and then rise again as he woke once more. 

The second time Maverick opened his eyes, he whipped his head over to stare at Tom with wide eyes. He blinked. 

Tom gave him the most mild expression he could muster.

“Fuck, you’re actually here,” Maverick said, voice less slurred now. 

“I’m your emergency contact,” Ice said blandly, determined to not let Maverick see the agitation going on in his body. “You know, you take that out of your wallet when you leave someone.”

There was a beat of tension and Maverick turned away to stare at the ceiling. 

“Flattered you came,” Maverick said, wincing a little. 

“Mm-hmm,” Ice drawled at him. 

Internally Tom was beginning to suspect he needed to visit the cardio ward and have his heart checked. It had been hammering a harsh rhythm in his chest for the last twenty minutes and showed no signs of stopping now. 

“Why did you come?” Mav asked, voice strained. 

“I knew no one else would,” Iceman shrugged. He almost regretted the words as pain flared and died on Maverick’s face. “Should I call the nurse? You look rough.”

“I was hit by a car, Kazansky, of course I look rough.” Pete was clearly trying to sound snappish but there was too much pain in his voice for it to carry. 

Ice sighed and stood. He moved to the side of Mav’s bed and found the call button. 

“Don’t you touch—“ Maverick didn’t make it to the end of the sentence before Ice pushed the button for him. “Go away, why are you here?” Maverick groaned, face growing steadily paler. 

Ice didn’t bother to reply but simply returned to the uncomfortable armchair. He willed his heart back to a regular pace and when it refused to comply, he settled for fishing his gum out of his pocket and beginning to chew on a fresh piece. 

The same nurse returned, took one look at Maverick’s face and launched into action. She set up his pain medication, teaching him about the button to let it release. She then began conducting the promised tests from earlier. Ice sat in the chair and watched, eyes roaming Maverick as he did. When the nurse pulled the gown down to attach patches to Mav’s chest, Ice couldn’t drag his eyes away. He knew he should, but the horrific red and maroon patches that spread from beneath Mav’s arm to the middle of his chest held him transfixed. 

The doctor had said words like “collapsed lung”, “fractured ribs” and “bleeding into the chest cavity” but hearing about it and seeing it were vastly different things. Ice found his breath was caught in his chest once more. He tried to breathe, working hard to stay perfectly still. 

As much as he wanted to deny it, Ice made a snap decision in that moment. He knew he would regret it later. He knew that it would cause him such intense pain that it would rival Maverick’s. But Tom also knew he couldn’t leave Maverick alone to deal with this. 

He was still his wingman. Whether Maverick wanted him to be or not.

[bnhayyy]

Remorseful Conflict (1)

Wordcount: 9.6k

Series Tag: Click

Ao3 Link: Click

Notes: And our third narrator is revealed! I went ahead and decided to make this a two-shot because it's going to be long and splits into two parts pretty easily. To anyone who's jumping in without having read the previous fics, welcome! This may not be the best place to dive it, but it also definitely isn't the worst, so I hope that you enjoy and aren't too confused. The first part of this fic is basically Painful Truths from Pieck's PoV and the second part will be Fragmented Memories from Pieck's PoV. In places where it looks like I kind of skimmed over some of the dialogue, it is because I already have the full scene written out in Reiner's PoV in one of the previously mentioned fics. Finally, thank you Jules for betaing!

Summary:  Pieck didn't expect Reiner Braun, the Marleyan boy who had bullied her as a child, to join the warriors partway through the Paradis operation. She also didn't anticipate the profound effect that an arrogant boy named Jean Kirstein would have on her. Between the two of them, plans go awry quickly. 

 Or; Pieck Finger, from the fall of Wall Maria to graduation.

Marcel pushed her out of the way.

All four of them had been stupid, settling down for the evening without checking the area thoroughly enough, without thinking to check the ground itself, but none of them had been as foolish as Pieck. She had forgotten about the mission for a moment and expressed her desire to get out of her titan to spend time with her friends. Marcel said that it was fine if she got out for a little while, and she - foolish, hopeful, naive - had allowed him to convince her.

Then the titan rose out of the ground beneath their feet. They moved to run, but Pieck's legs gave out beneath her, the titan reached for her, and Marcel made the decision that would cost him his life.

If he were there with her, Marcel would say that it wasn't Pieck's fault. He would say that he made his decision because he didn't want her to die.

He would have been wrong. It was her fault, no matter how she tried to spin in. Because she had been the one to shift out of her titan, just for one reckless, ignorant moment. Because her legs had been the ones to give out.

Because Marcel pushed her out of the way.

***

Annie wanted to go home. Bertolt nodded along as she made her case, a focused expression on his face. Probably growing more convinced with every passing second. Meanwhile, Pieck felt helpless in the face of reality, a reality that her comrades seemed to be forgetting. She didn't want to be the one to tell them and force them forward, but... if not her, who? It still felt like she should stand by and wait until Marcel took the lead, but Marcel was dead.

Marcel was dead because of her, and if she didn't do something soon, then Bertolt and Annie would follow him.

"We need to continue the mission," Pieck said. The words made a cold numbness spread through her, from the tips of her fingers, through her head and chest, right down to her treacherous legs. It reminded her that they would all be a lot safer when she got back into her titan. It was harder to speak in titan form though, and right now, she needed to be able to speak, to make her comrades see reason.

She'd just have to be quick about it.

"How?" Annie demanded. Her expression, normally so closed off, was open and vulnerable for once, highlighted by blue eyes that were wide and bright with fear. "How can we do this without Marcel? He was the one who was supposed to-"

"-I can destroy the inner gate," Pieck interrupted. "If it's anything like the diagrams, it won't be easy, but my titan's dexterous enough to take it down. Other than that, we just follow the original plan."

Bertolt would kick a hole in the outer gate, Annie would summon titans for the attack, and Pieck would do what she could to fill the hole she had made in their group by creating a hole in Wall Maria itself. They could do it. They had to do it.

"...Are you sure?" Bertolt asked. He took a hesitant step closer to Pieck, feet dragging heavily across the grass beneath them as he moved.

"She isn't," Annie said, refusing to tear her eyes away from Pieck. "She can't be. We weren't meant to change the plan, and she has no way to know that none of us will die trying to take down the wall, or during what comes after. I don't..." The words got caught in Annie's throat as tears started to glimmer in her eyes. "I don't want to die here, Pieck. I want... I need to see my father again."

Pieck's chest ached. She wanted to tell Annie that she understood, that she would give just about anything to see her own father again. At another time, she would have done exactly that and stood back while Marcel did the hard work of convincing her. But Marcel was gone, and unless someone stepped up right now, it would mean the end for all of them.

Pieck hesitated. She wanted to be kind, but if she stopped to comfort her friend, if she allowed herself to be too sympathetic, her strength of will might falter. If her strength of will faltered, it would give Annie the window that she needed to turn them around and lead them all to their friends.

Reality was cruel. Marcel would have been able to find a way to open their eyes without being cruel, but Pieck wasn't Marcel. She had no clue how to temper their harsh world into something kinder, how to bring it to light in a gentle fashion.

Pieck didn't want to be cruel.

But Annie and Bertolt would die if they didn't face reality.

She would rather be cruel to her friends and see them survive than kill them with her kindness.

"So you'd rather turn back and die in Marley?" Pieck demanded, voice dropping into something low and cold.

Annie frowned. "Our terms only just started. We still have-"

"-That's not what I meant," Pieck cut in. "If we go back now, we'll have lost the Jaw titan and accomplished nothing, Marley will replace us faster than we can blink."

Annie took a step back, her hands balling into fists by her sides. "You don't know that," she argued. Her voice sounded so solid, but her eyes betrayed her, glistening fiercely as she glanced over at Bertolt, who stood perfectly still, horror plastered onto his face. She only looked at him for a moment before turning her attention back to Pieck and continuing, "It would be wasteful, and they'd need other candidates to replace us with. Right now, there's only Porco."

"You think they couldn't come up with replacements quickly?" Pieck countered. "There are plenty of Eldians who would step up and take our place. They might not be as well trained as us, but they might prefer to deal with that over keeping failures around. Or maybe they'll keep us locked up underground until they've brought our replacements up to speed. Either way, we are expendable, and we won't be forgiven if we turn back down."

Annie opened her mouth. When no words came out, she took a slow step forward and raised her fists.

Pieck forced herself to step forward as well. "I don't want to fight you, Annie. But if I need to to keep you alive, I will."

"No one needs to fight!" Bertolt exclaimed, drawing a step closer. "We can just talk this out and-"

"And go with her plan?" Annie snarled. "And hope that Pieck can step in for Marcel, pray that we won't get eaten and might get to see our families again?"

"Yes," Pieck said, finally allowing her voice to drop into something softer. "We knew from the start that we might not get out of this alive, Annie. But if we continue the mission, there's a chance that you'll get to see your father again, to stay with him. If we go home now, you'll be lucky to spend a few minutes with him before they pass on your titan. And I don't want to lose another friend."

The world felt still as Pieck and Annie stared each other down. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, Annie lowered her fists.

Pieck nodded. "We need to keep moving," she said, staring up and forward, at the glimmer that she thought she could see on the horizon. "I'll shift and stay in my titan until we've taken down my wall. You two, climb on my back and stay there."

Bertolt shifted uneasily. "You make it sound like..."

"If we're going to do this, there's no point in dragging it out," Annie muttered.

Pieck nodded. "We're making a straight break for the walls."

***

In the end, it was easy to destroy Wall Maria.

Bertolt created a hole in the outer wall. Pieck waited for the titans to spread throughout the devil's city, spreading chaos and devastation in their wake, before beginning her charge. She ran straight at the inner gate, her momentum giving her extra force as she bodyslammed into it. The gate trembled beneath her weight for only one second before giving in and collapsing completely. From there, she began grappling at the edges of the hole, grasping great chunks of stone and tearing them free as fast as she possibly could. By the time she backed off, pieces of rubble were falling out on their home and the hole was big enough for even the largest of titans to crawl through.

The entire process of destroying the inner gate took no more than three minutes.

It was easy to destroy Wall Maria.

It was not easy to watch what came after.

***

All around her, people were suffering. People taken from their idyllic lives and thrust into the depths of poverty. Refugees desperate for any means of survival left out to starve because the walls simply could not afford to feed them. Children separated from their parents through one means or the other. Death and destruction as far as the eye could see.

Pieck had known that this was going to happen. It was the same thing that always happened when Marley decided to move against an enemy. The only real difference here was that instead of blaming the country that was at fault, the oblivious people of the walls placed it on her and Bertolt. The Colossal and the Cart, or as the people of the walls called in, the Mule Titan.

She had known what was going to happen and had chosen to see it through anyway. None of the events playing out around her were a surprise. It wasn't even that different from some of the things she had seen while serving Marley prior to coming to Paradis. Yet it was different. There was a difference between walking away after fulfilling her mission and actually hiding amongst the people who she had hurt.

People, not devils. Pieck had never been completely convinced by Marley's propaganda, but she never questioned it too strongly either. But as she hid among the refugees of Wall Rose, she was forced to see the gaunt, haunted face of her victims, desperately desiring to rest, yet forcing themselves to persist in the face of despair. Human. Parents who already had so little going with even less so that their children could eat. Human. Total strangers offering a smile, a kind word, or a spare coin or piece of bread to a trio of children tucked in with the refugees. Human.

It was within the first few weeks after the fall of Wall Maria that doubt began to creep in. However, it was later on that something truly shifted within her.

The announcement spread like wildfire through the town they were staying in. All able-bodied adult refugees were to report to the Survey Corps to participate in an operation to reclaim Wall Maria.

That night, as she, Bertolt, and Annie sat between their cots in their hostel, Pieck whispered, "It's a population cull. There's no way that they can take Wall Maria back, and they know it. The crown's just getting rid of the mouths they can't feed."

"Obviously," Annie murmured. "I'm surprised that something like this didn't happen sooner."

Cold discomfort draped itself over Pieck's shoulder. She tried not to let it show. Bertolt wasn't as successful, wrapping the blanket wrapped around his shoulder tighter and staring down at his feet. "I suppose it makes sense that Paradisians would do something like this to their own people," he murmured.

Something twisted in Pieck's stomach, compelling her to say the words that she knew were better kept to herself. Words that Marley would loathe to hear from her lips. Marley wasn't there though - only the friends she trusted with her life. As such, she allowed herself to say, "This isn't because they're Paradisian."

Bertolt glanced up at her while Annie narrowed her eyes. "It isn't?" she prompted.

"No," Pieck said. "So many people to feed when they had just lost so many resources... If Marley ever faced a disaster of this scale, I'm sure they'd do something similar. Maybe even worse."

"Maybe," Annie admitted. "But when you say it like that, it sounds a lot like you're sympathetic for the devils."

Pieck smiled weakly. "Maybe I am. But am I supposed to think that you aren't, after seeing all this?"

"...I also want to see my father again," Annie said.

"Me too," Bertolt whispered.

"I know," Pieck said. "I'm not saying that we should abandon the plan. For now, we just need to keep going." They were making progress in their plan to learn more about the Paradisian royal family. If they just kept on with that plan, their path would surely become true.

"You aren't saying it yet," Annie said, something shadowed and painful hiding in her eyes. No - not just painful. Angry.

Pieck swallowed heavily. That was right - Annie had wanted to give up on the plan before Wall Maria even fell. Before anyone died. Seeing Pieck falter now, after they'd all gotten so much more red on their ledger, must have felt like salt in a wound. It must have hurt.

You had to be alive to hurt.

"We would have died if we went back to Marley," Pieck said. "You're right; I don't want to hurt anyone else. But I also won't stop the plan unless you both agree. I won't let this be for nothing."

Annie nodded slowly. "But if we all agree... you will let us stop?"

Pieck stared at Annie for a long moment before glancing at Bertolt. He was staring at her with a fraught mix of hope and fear.

"I will," Pieck finally said, turning her gaze back to Annie's. "But we still won't be able to go back to Marley. If we stop, we'll need to figure out another plan if you ever want to see your father again."

Assuming Marley didn't take their inaction as a sign of treachery and preemptively dismiss them as traitors. Pieck's stomach wrenched at the thought, her mind turning to her own father.

Annie looked away. "I want to continue the mission," she said.

Pieck nodded, her heart catching onto the words that Annie hadn't been able to bring herself to say.

For now.

***

There was no stopping the passage of time. Little changed in the time that the warriors spent among the refugees. Little, and yet so very much. They kept to the shadows as they scuttled around the walls. They followed the right people, made sure they were at the right places at the right times, and eventually learned that the true ruler of Paradis was not the king of the walls, but a family called Reiss.

The information they gleaned in the darkness was vital to the mission. However, it was what they witnessed in the light of day that had the potential to change the mission.

Just as everything stayed the same for the warriors, so did things stagnate for those refugees who hadn't been made to sacrifice their lives in the vain attempt to reclaim Wall Maria. Some managed to get back on their feet and start their lives anew, the wealthy and the lucky, but for every one individual who experienced such fortune, there were ten left to wallow. They lived in the same hostels that they had resided in since the farm, subsided on what meager portions they were given, and spent hours upon end working in fields and doing other manual labor.

It was nothing that they hadn't seen before, but there was something to be said for exposure. Every day, the hopeless faces of the people trying so desperately to find something to hold onto wore Pieck down a little more. Every day, she saw the last flickers of resolve in her companion's eyes grow further and further away.

***

As far as sleeping assignments went, Pieck was lucky. Her cot was right next to a window. Annie's was right next to it and got to reap some of the benefits, but she got most of the direct light. Pieck was curled up at the top of her cot, sitting on top of her pillow, and utilizing the day's last fading rays of light to read the newspaper when Annie and Bertolt approached her. The matching expressions on their faces - somber and trying hard to hide fright - immediately gave her an idea of what this may be about. Even so, Pieck turned her gaze back to her paper after a quick glance at her companions.

This was their choice. If they wanted to have the conversation that she suspected they did, she would leave it up to them to initiate it.

Several minutes passed by. Pieck finished reading the page that she was on and carefully flicked to the next one. She got halfway through it before Annie whispered, voice firm, but with the distinct sense that she was inches away from faltering, "I'm not giving up on seeing my father again."

Pieck folded her newspaper up and bent down to push to tuck it under her bed. She had borrowed it from a kindly old woman she'd befriended; it wouldn't do to leave it and risk getting it damaged. Once it was safe and sound, she straightened back up and looked Annie in the eyes. "I never thought that you would," she said.

Annie opened her mouth. Closed it. It was as she was pursing her lips that Bertolt reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. She didn't spare it so much as a passing glance, but it did seem to give her the second wind that she needed, for she went on to whisper, "We don't want to destroy another wall. If there's another way to find the Founding Titan, we want to find it."

Warmth rushed through Pieck's chest. Relief, joy, pride. She wanted nothing more than to lean into the feeling, to grab Annie and Bertolt in her arms and hold them tight, to tell them how proud she was of them for making such a decision. But she couldn't. She was the leader of their group, and that meant that she had to make sure that they understood the implications of what they were saying, the risks and consequences that they may end up facing.

Marcel would have found a way to phrase it more kindly than she was going to, but that was from her perspective. In that moment, she wondered. Did Marcel ever feel like he was being cruel? Like he had to be in for their own good?

"What if we can't find the Founding Titan without destroying another wall?" Pieck whispered.

Annie frowned. However, it was Bertolt who spoke up this time. "Y-You don't know that it will turn out like that."

"You're right, I don't," Pieck acquiesced. "But if we take too long, Marley will assume something's happened. They'll either think we've died or turned traitor, and once that happens, we won't have an easy way home."

Annie looked at the ground. She didn't move as she said, "Then let them think we're dead. As long as we keep our heads low and don't shift, they'll have no reason to think we betrayed them."

Pieck nodded. "That's-"

"It doesn't mean that I'm giving up," Annie added, her voice taking on a sharp, bitter tone. She looked up to meet her eyes, and the intensity of the piercing blue left Pieck with no choice but to assume that she was telling the truth. "I will see my father again, no matter what it takes. But I'm not going to destroy another wall."

"Me either," Bertolt added. "This was... everything we've seen..." He glanced downward and began wringing his hands. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible despite how close he stood. "These people aren't devils. I don't want to hurt them like that again."

Pieck didn't point out that they would still be hurting them if they returned the Founding Titan to Marley. Succeeding in the mission would likely mean guaranteeing the island's annihilation, but something told her that they already knew that. Even if they didn't want to consciously acknowledge it, they knew. It was probably why they were willing to entertain the concept of failing to find the Founding Titan and spending the rest of their lives playing dead on Paradis - or in Annie's case, scrambling to get back to her father when she was supposed to be dead.

Of course, Annie wouldn't be the only one separated from her family. Pieck allowed herself to think of her own father for an instant, to let grief wash over her and her heart to sink inside her chest. If they didn't find the Founding Titan, she would probably never see her father again. The only father she had would be lost to her. But... maybe that wouldn't be so bad. As long as Marley didn't think that they had actively betrayed them, that was a significant chance that he would continue to reap the benefits from having a warrior for a daughter. He would hurt, but surely it was a hurt that he had already prepared himself for. She would hurt, but after everything she had done, she had more than earned a little pain by now.

The refugees? The haunted and hurting faces around her, the ones who pressed on in the midst of hopelessness and despair? They hadn't earned the pain that had been inflicted on them. They didn't deserve to have to go through it again.

Pieck's eyes stung. She blinked a few times to eradicate the sensation before tears could form and offered Annie and Bertolt a small, fragile smile. "Alright," she whispered. "We can come up with another plan."

Annie shrugged Bertolt's hand off her shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't think we should abandon the old plan completely. We still want to find the Founding Titan, right?"

Bertolt nodded. "Joining the Military Police will get us closer to the royal family," he said.

"Right," Annie said. "Although... one of us should check out the Survey Corps and see what they're up to. And even if we don't find the Founder..." She paused for half a second as she glanced off to the side. "I don't want to live in squalor the entire time I'm here."

Pieck nodded. "Makes sense," she said, even though it didn't. With their constant expeditions and pursuit of knowledge, there was a faint chance that the Survey Corps would know something about that Founding Titan. However, if Annie's secondary goal was truly to secure a better life for herself, then there was little to no reason for her to bring up the possibility of joining the most dangerous and least celebrated branch of the military.

But if she wanted to atone and soothe her guilty conscience? Then joining the Survey Corps made perfect sense.

"Alright," Pieck said, just for the relief of saying it. "We'll join the Training Corps, but no more attacks on the walls."

"Thank you," Bertolt whispered.

Pieck smiled faintly. "Thank you."

***

And so, the warriors changed their plan.

Then Reiner showed up.

***

Reiner Braun was a member of the Marleyan Junior military. He was an entitled, prejudiced, oblivious brat who had carelessly bullied them throughout their training. He shouldn't have been on Paradis.

Yet there he was. Pieck didn't know what to make of it. All she knew was that his presence couldn't mean anything good and it was her job to make sure that it didn't turn into anything worse. When Annie knocked him to the ground and pressed an arm to his throat, Pieck called her off and led them somewhere they could sort this out without making a scene.

As she hunted down a large enough closet, Pieck found herself thinking about her history with her newest problem.

Growing up, everyone had handled Reiner differently. Porco fought back, at least, as much as the circumstances allowed him to. Annie had grit her teeth and bore it, even as visible hurt and resentment began to build under her skin with every cruel, thoughtless barb. Bertolt fluctuated between trying to be friendly with him and just staying out of his way. Marcel, too kind for his own good, had actually tried to befriend him, claiming that he saw something good in him.

Out of all the candidates, Pieck had had the least direct interaction with him. She'd tried to make herself seem weird and uninteresting, not worth paying attention to, and watched him from afar. It had worked for the most part. However, 'for the most part' only meant so much with someone like Reiner. He had still called her 'devil' time and time again and looked at her like she was a bug beneath his foot.

The way he treated her was the easy part of it. Pieck had been helpless to do anything but watch as he poked and prodded at her friends, content in the knowledge that his status as a Marleyan would be enough to prevent any retaliation. Even when he started to shoot Marcel warm looks when he thought no one was looking, he never let up on the others. He had made Annie and Bertolt feel worse about themselves, cost Porco his shot at a titan, tricked Marcel into wasting his time and energy on someone who would never change.

Pieck didn't hate Marleyans as a whole. Reiner was another matter, a personal one. She knew that Marcel would be disappointed in her for it, but it wouldn't be a lie to say that she loathed him. Maybe even hated him.

It was hard not to let that loathing show on her face when she closed them into the closet, especially when Reiner had the gall to play dumb in the face of Annie's questions. However, it got a little easier when he said something that sparked her curiosity.

"I'm not Marleyan."

It felt like a shockwave traveled through the group. Pieck shrugged it off with ease, driven by the need to figure out exactly what was going on. Because the Reiner she knew, overwhelmingly nationalistic and proud of his heritage, would never deny his status as a Marleyan. She canted her head to the side and took a step forward. "Is that so?" she asked.

Did Reiner know how much he looked like a cornered animal right then? She doubted it. If he did, he would probably be putting on some sort of bluster to counteract it. Instead, there was only wild desperation. He stammered for a moment, doubtlessly too caught up in whatever was going on in his head to get his words out, before saying something impossible.

"I'm the inheritor of the Armored Titan; Marley sent me to help you in your mission following the loss of the Jaw."

Pieck felt her eyes widen. She had sent word of Marcel's demise and their success at Shiganshina back to Marley. Once they were settled in Wall Rose, she'd convinced Bertolt and Annie to let her set out for one of the checkpoints beyond Wall Maria, where she had left a letter. The whole thing had taken no more than a week. She hadn't known for sure that her letter would actually reach Marley, let alone expected anything to come of it. She certainly hadn't expected them to send backup.

Past a certain point, she hadn't wanted them to send backup. And now...

...Now wasn't the time to think about that. Reiner, a Marleyan, had just claimed that he was the new Armored Titan. That was impossible. It should have been impossible. However, Reiner seemed to be caught in the throes of visceral, all-consuming terror. Fear on that level just couldn't be faked. More than that, when Annie called him out on what should have been his impossible lie, he pretended that he didn't know them.

Did he truly think they were that stupid?

No, that was desperation in his voice, not derision. He didn't expect them not to be able to remember him, he wanted them to.

Something was very wrong here. But what?

Then Reiner said something that made it click.

"Marleyans can't be titans."

Pieck blinked as all the pieces came together. She then smiled as she said. "You're right; Marleyans can't be titans. Don't worry, Reiner. You don't have to do anything like that; I believe you."

She said it because it was the truth. Marleyans couldn't be titans, except for when they were only Marleyan in name. She had heard of Eldian families escaping from Liberio, faking their information, and pretending to be Marleyan before.

Except that didn't feel quite right. His parents never would have let him join the military if they were living a lie on that scale. More to the point, Reiner might have known that he was Eldian, and there was no way that he had been faking his disgust for her race. For their race. However, there was another possibility, one that suddenly seemed very possible when remembered that Reiner had never mentioned his father.

A Marleyan couldn't become a titan, but they could if they were half Eldian. It was also possible that his mother wouldn't have considered that a blood test could reveal his parentage, thus explaining his military involvement. And that military training would explain why he was on Paradis now. Officially, interbreeding would result in the execution of both families involved, but if Marley was desperate for someone to inherit the Armored Titan, someone in Reiner's position could serve as the perfect tool. Become a warrior, do right by Marley, or you and your whole family will be killed. Reiner would have no room to do anything but what they told him.

...There was no way that he would waver from the mission. He was going to try to see that Paradis was destroyed, and if he caught them wavering, he would tell Marley that they were all traitors.

Fury rose up inside Pieck. She forced herself to swallow it down as she guided Annie and Bertolt to follow her lead, to pretend that they bought Reiner's claim of being someone else.

It made her feel wretched to do. If this vile situation had any silver lining, it was in the fact that the boy who had tormented them was one of the very people he'd called devils. It was karma at its finest, an opportunity for them to get back at him for everything they had experienced. Bertolt was too kind to do anything, but Annie deserved to be able to tear into him as much as she wanted.

But they couldn't. Working with Reiner would be hard enough even without acknowledging the elephant in the room. If they did, it might well become impossible. There was also a chance that it would lead to trouble with Marley, which wasn't a chance that she was willing to take. Perhaps letting him rest with his lie was the cowardly way out, but with everything falling apart around them, Pieck was willing to be a bit of a coward.

Funny. For a coward, she was doomed to get an awful lot of blood on her hands. All three of them were.

As Pieck went on to explain the plan - the terrible, cruel, heartless plan that they had officially forsaken only a few weeks ago - she decided.

She hated Reiner Braun.

***

Reiner was going to try to get his sleeping arrangements altered so that he was closer to Bertolt, Pieck, and Annie. For the time being, however, he was still on the other side of the hostel. That meant that when it grew late into the night, he had to leave, finally giving everyone else a chance to talk.

They huddled in between her and Annie's cots, just like they had been before the intruder arrived. There, Pieck and Bertolt gave each other a long, strained look. It seemed clear to her that Bertolt knew what he wanted to say, but didn't know how to say it. If she had to guess, she would go as far as to say that he was struggling with the very same realization as her. They all were.

Of course, just because you realized something didn't mean that you accepted it. And one of them was going to have a harder time accepting their new reality than the other two.

"What does this mean for the mission?" Annie demanded.

Bertolt looked down at his lap and Pieck swallowed heavily. I'm sorry, Annie.

"It means that we have to go back to the original plan," Pieck whispered. "Find the Founding Titan at any cost."

Annie stared at Pieck with piercing, desperate, disbelieving blue eyes. Pieck met her gaze head-on, sorrowful but unyielding. Finally, Annie slowly shook her head.

"Not any cost," she said. "We aren't going to destroy another wall. Pieck, we agreed."

Pieck's eyes began to sting. She closed them long enough to shove the sensation away before opening them back up and saying, "I know, and I'm sorry, but Reiner can never know about that. If it reaches a point where it looks like that's what we'll have to do, then... That's what we'll have to do."

Annie's lips parted. She began to raise a shaking hand, but lowered it before Pieck could get an idea of what she intended to do with it.

Meanwhile, Bertolt had turned to look at Annie. He kept his gaze on her as he hesitantly suggested, "Maybe we can get him to go along with us. Reiner was... he wasn't nice, but he wasn't entirely awful either. Once he realizes that he would be killing people..."

Pieck and Annie responded at the same time.

"You think that he thinks of anyone here as a person?" Annie spat. Her voice pitched upwards as she spoke, not enough to put them at risk of being overheard, but enough to make her disgust plain as day. The heartbreak in her expression faded away in favor of cold fury.

Pieck's response was more subdued. She shook her head and murmured, "Reiner is extremely loyal to Marley. All we would be doing is giving him the opportunity to report us as traitors."

A bead of sweat slipped down Bertolt's brow. He began to wring his hands together as he stammered, "Th-that was then. Things might be different now that he's..."

"A devil?" Annie suggested, voice dropping into something dark and condemning.

"...One of us," Bertolt continued. "I don't know what happened to him, but it couldn't have been good, and going from Marleyan to Eldian must be... He might not be as loyal to Marley after that. He might... he might be more willing to think about other people's feelings."

Annie grit her jaw, but otherwise didn't comment. She didn't need to - Pieck could all but feel the disbelief radiating from her. Pieck was inclined to agree with it. After all, this was Reiner they were talking about. The idea that this horrible, entitled, prejudiced, mindlessly dogmatic boy could possibly get better was beyond ridiculous. Whatever he had experienced might be enough to humble other people, but him? He would probably come up with some reason why they were still all terrible devils and he was the exception.

Those were Pieck's feelings though, and she couldn't risk making her calls based on her feelings. Not when the facts were so much more damning.

"That's exactly why we can't risk it," Pieck said. "Annie, Bertolt. You both agree that Reiner really thought he was Marleyan, right?"

"Yes," Bertolt murmured. "He always seemed very... confident."

Meanwhile, Annie nodded, her expression growing a shade darker.

Pieck gave a single sharp nod of her own. "That means that he's either half-Marleyan or his entire family was lying about being Marleyan the whole time. Both of those things are very illegal. It's surprising that he wasn't just sent to paradise, honestly."

"He would have made a good titan," Annie muttered.

"Annie," Bertolt whispered, a hint of dismay in his voice.

"He's good at hurting things," Annie shot back.

The memory of Bertolt flinching at the sound of Reiner's voice flashed through her mind. A younger, smaller Annie looking like she was struggling to hold back tears after being asked about her horns. Porco cradling a broken arm. Yes, Reiner was certainly very good at breaking things. In that way, perhaps it was actually fitting that he had been made the Armored Titan rather than another mindless beast to roam paradise. After all, there was no telling how much pain and suffering he may inflict upon the world now.

They were getting off-topic.

Pieck cleared her throat before continuing, "What I'm saying is that he's going to be on an even tighter leash than we are. I'm willing to bet that this isn't an opportunity for him, it's a second chance. For him and his family. If he fails, they'll probably all be executed for his crimes. You can't negotiate with that."

Annie's expression cleared into something pristine and emotionless as she looked Pieck in the eyes and said, "Maybe we don't have to negotiate with him."

...She was right. There were so many things that could kill someone on Paradis - even a titan shifter. Reiner had only just found them. If he disappeared now, Marley would never need to know that he had found them in the first place. All they would have to do was kill one more person.

Reiner.

Pieck's throat constricted. "What are you saying?" she asked. Because she had to ask.

Annie didn't so much as blink. "Don't play dumb."

No, this really wasn't the time to play dumb, was it? It wasn't a good look on her anyway.

Pieck looked down at her lap. She had to face the facts. Reiner may have been a shifter now, but no matter what training he had been put through while they were gone, he couldn't hope to stand a chance against the three of them put together. It would be murder, but it would be a murder that could stand to save untold lives. She would be killing someone she knew, but certainly not someone she'd miss. When she put it like that, then maybe...

"Wait a minute," Bertolt cut in. His voice was shaken, and when Pieck looked up, an undercurrent of horror was plastered across his expression. "You aren't talking about killing him, are you?"

"It would be for the best," Annie said, unrepentant.

Bertolt shook his head. "It would be murder. I mean... I know we're already murderers, but I mean..." He wrapped his arms around himself as he paused. "It's Reiner."

Annie scowled. "All the more reason to do it."

Bertolt shook his head again, this time a little more fiercely. "It isn't what Marcel would have wanted."

Silence. Pieck and Annie exchanged a glance, after which Annie looked to the side while Pieck gently asked, "What do you mean, Bertolt?"

Now that he had been put on the spot, Bertolt seemed a lot more sure of himself. He ran a hand across his forehead, grimacing when it came away sweaty. He held that hand in his lap and stared down at it for several heartbeats before finally raising his gaze to meet Pieck's. "Marcel always thought that there was good in Reiner. He would have wanted us to give him a chance. And Reiner... Reiner was always a lot nicer to Marcel than the rest of us, so maybe he was right. Besides... if his family is in that much trouble, don't you think there's a chance that they'll be killed if he disappears as well? It's not their fault that he acted the way he did."

Pieck looked down at her hands - hands that had already caused so much death and despair. What was one more life, the life of someone she hated, when it could prevent even greater misery? And yet...

She disagreed with Bertolt about Reiner's family. Seeing as they were the people who raised him, it went to reason that the way he treated them was absolutely their fault. They were also either a group of Eldians who were so ashamed of their heritage that they had lied or a bunch of Marleyans who had raised a half-Eldian child to hate his own kind. Maybe she could understand them if she knew their full story, but as it stood, she couldn't bring herself to feel any true sympathy for them. But Marcel?

Marcel would be disappointed in them if he knew what they were thinking about doing. No, worse than disappointed. He would be angry. Back when Reiner first started hanging around them, she had thought that he was being nice to him out of some sort of strategic value. When she realized that he wasn't, she had been kind of hurt, even though she never actually said anything. She never understood what Marcel saw in Reiner or thought that he deserved his kindness. But he had seen something. Perhaps it was something that wasn't really there, but she knew that Marcel would have vouched for him if he were there now.

...If Marcel were able to vouch for Reiner, then Pieck wouldn't be there to act against him. Because Pieck was only alive because Marcel had pushed her out of the way.

"...Alright," Pieck said. "You're right. We'll let him live."

Annie wrapped her arms around herself. Pieck began to reach out to her, but pulled her hand back at the last second.

There was a very real chance that they were making a mistake, but she owed it to Marcel to make that gamble, even if she was gambling on Reiner. She had to trust in his judgment one last time. But how could she explain that to Annie in a way that could even hope to provide some solace to what she must be feeling right now?

She couldn't. So they just had to move on.

"We'll need to be careful about how we act around him," Pieck said. "He clearly doesn't want to acknowledge our past together, so I say that we go with it and pretend that he's someone else."

"Why?" Annie asked, still refusing to look at her. "He doesn't deserve to get to avoid his situation."

Pieck sighed. She didn't doubt that Reiner was supposed to keep whatever truth laid behind his heritage a secret, but it was also ridiculous to expect that they wouldn't remember him. Back in the closet, she may have implied that they were pretending he was a different person because Marley wanted them to, but that was nothing more than a convenient lie. Reiner wanted them to forget who he was because it made things easier for him. But in a warped, disgusting way, it also made things easier for them.

"We need to work with him. That will be easier if we avoid conflict, and the best way to avoid conflict is to pretend that we've never met. It'll also be easier if we let him think he's in charge, since Marley probably sent him to make sure we're continuing the mission and get us back in line if need be," Pieck said, the gears in her head turning even if she spoke.

"But you're our leader," Bertolt said, voice hesitant.

A wry smile twisted at Pieck's lips. "But he doesn't need to know that. He'll probably be easier to handle if he doesn't."

Looking back at Reiner's history of ignorance, she could all too easily see how he could be led to think that he was making all the major decisions when that wasn't the case at all.

"It sounds like you're planning something sick," Annie muttered.

"I'm not planning anything," Pieck said. "I'm just trying to find a way to get us through this."

All of them, whether she liked it or not. If it just so happened that by being especially careful with how she treated Reiner, she might eventually find a way to minimize Paradisian casualties... well, she would just have to wait and see what happened.

***

It was several hours until sunrise by the time they all went to bed.

Pieck still didn't get any sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind was invaded by memories of the fall of Wall Maria and visions of the terrors that might be yet to come. When the sun finally rose to peek through the windows, she wanted nothing more than to melt back into her cot and block the rest of the world out.

But that wasn't an option.

It looked like she wasn't the only one who hadn't gotten any sleep that night. Annie and Bertolt both looked tired. Yet Reiner managed to outdo them all when he found them lurking outside the entrance to the hostel that morning. He approached them slowly with heavy shoulders, red-rimmed eyes with dark bags beneath, and an expression that was even more laden with exhaustion than Pieck’s own.

While Pieck leaned against the cold stone wall of the hostel and Annie glowered at Reiner, but otherwise remained perfectly still, Bertolt took a step forward. "Are - are you alright, Reiner?" he asked. "You look kind of..."

Reiner grinned. It was strained and didn't come anywhere close to hiding how drained it was, but Pieck supposed it was a decent attempt. "Just a little tired," he said.

There was nothing about Bertolt that looked convinced, but that didn't stop him from nodding. "A-alright. I was wondering, how long have you been in the area?"

"About three days," Reiner said. "Why?"

Bertolt hesitated for a moment before taking another step forward. "We've been here since the wall fell. Would you like me to show you around?"

Reiner's countenance brightened slightly. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

Too much trouble. How funny - Reiner had never cared whether he was troubling them before. Pieck looked down to hide the onset of an expression that could have been a scowl or a smirk. Somehow, the feeling of her lips twisting wasn't enough to tell her which.

"Not at all," Bertolt said. He turned around to face Pieck and Annie as he added, "do you guys want to-"

Pieck stepped swiftly to the side and grabbed Annie's upper arm. "Actually, Annie and I were going to see if we can grab some extra shifts in the fields."

She didn't dare shoot Annie a pleading look, no matter how much she wanted to. As such, it was a relief when her fellow warrior nodded. "We could use the extra money," she muttered.

"They'll pay you?" Reiner asked, puzzlement clear in his voice. Pieck and Annie both snapped their gazes toward him at the same time. He didn't falter when he met Pieck's eyes, but when he looked over at Annie, he swallowed heavily and took a nearly imperceptible step backward. Pieck resisted the urge to grin.

"I - I thought refugees were expected to work and only received their rations," Reiner added.

"Normally. Sometimes they'll pay you if you do more than your share. It's not much, but it's better than nothing," Pieck provided.

"Especially now that we have another mouth to feed," Annie muttered.

Reiner nodded. "Right. I could... help, if you wanted."

Something sad shifted across Bertolt's expression while something angry fluttered in Pieck's chest. "You don't have to do that," he said.

No, Reiner did not have to do anything other than what Marley had told them to, and Marley wouldn't have told him to perform extra manual labor within the walls. That prompted the question, was his offer some weak attempt to make amends when he was too cowardly to directly address their past? Or did he truly think them so stupid that he believed that they didn't recognize him, and this was him trying to start off on the right foot?

Either way, she wanted some space from him right now, and Annie probably needed it.

Pieck plastered a grin to her face and said, "Maybe later. Just focus on getting used to the area for now."

With that, she walked away, off to find the closest volunteer station. Annie followed close behind. The glower on her face said that even though she found her company more tolerable than Reiner, she still wasn't happy about the decisions that had been made. Pieck offered her a weak smile and didn't say anything to try and make her think differently.

If she was Annie, she would be angry at her too.

***

And so the tone was set. Pieck avoided Reiner aside from when the warriors came together to discuss their mission. She was relieved to find that he didn't seem to think much of it - likely recalling the aloof, distant girl from their training days.

Annie was a little more complicated. The damage between her and Pieck was done and she didn't know if there was any undoing it. However, her fellow warrior still followed her lead and kept her distance from Reiner for the most part. The only prominent exceptions were when the urge to lash out at him grew too great and Annie approached him with some sort of barb or reminder of her shared past. It was the opposite of helpful, yet Pieck couldn't bring herself to make her stop. Maybe it was because she hadn't done anything to bring an end to this game of ignorance they were playing. Perhaps it was because she also enjoyed seeing Reiner squirm. Either way, although Reiner didn't quite roll over when faced with Annie, he also didn't do anything to defend herself from her subtle but scathing attacks.

Bertolt was another matter entirely. He tried to be friendly with Reiner, tried to make friends with him. Pieck understood his actions on a logical level. Reiner was their teammate now - befriending him would probably be beneficial. A fractured group could only be bad for them in the long run. Yet when she considered trying to follow his lead, bitter, not-so-old memories drifted to the surface of her mind, putting a stop to that idea before she could even truly consider it.

Fractured or not, their group held together for the next few weeks, and when it was time to join the training corps, their existing dynamic gave Pieck an idea.

All four of them wrote that they were from the same hometown. However, among the rest of the cadets, they would pretend that most of them were no more than casual acquaintances. Bertolt and Reiner would stick together, but Pieck and Annie would both go their own ways. It kept them from drifting too far apart while ensuring that they wouldn't all immediately be implicated if one of them was discovered.

It meant that the only one who had to spend a lot of time around Reiner was the one who could actually tolerate him.

***

Pieck anticipated that training would be a lonely time. It had to be, since she wasn't supposed to be too close to Annie or Bertolt and she couldn't risk getting attached to any of the Paradisians.

Then, only two days into training, she met them.

Pieck had planned on staying in the dining hall until curfew. She may not be able to let herself get close to the other cadets, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to know them. Only two days in, everyone's dynamics were still being established, but there was certainly a lot to know about the individuals.

There was the trio of cadets who hailed from Shiganshina. The loud-mouthed one, Eren, was easy to read, the unspeakable nightmares he had faced clearly propelling him forward in his hopeless dream to destroy all the titans. It was the other two who were more interesting. Armin, the quiet boy who always looked like he was thinking, and Mikasa, the stoic girl who was always at the loudmouth's side. However, they were also far more difficult to read. So was the freckled girl, Ymir, who had quickly taken to shadowing the sweet blonde, Krista.

They were outliers though. Out of the others, she had quickly realized that the potato girl, Sasha, spoke a little too precisely and politely for it to be her real manner of speech. The boy who had saluted incorrectly, Connie, was clearly from the country and seemed to have minimal idea of what being in the military actually entailed. The same could probably be said about the ambitious, overconfident blowhard, Jean, as well as the overly earnest Marco.

Those were just the ones who immediately came to mind when she thought of her new classmates. She had noticed plenty of little details about the others as well, yet all of it probably still paled in comparison to what Reiner had learned, given how oddly comfortable he already seemed among the "islands devils".

He was probably off socializing in the boy's barracks while she lingered in the dining hall. Unfortunately, he was also probably being more productive by doing so. Only a few pockets of people remained still lingered in the dimly lit room around her, all of whom were engaged in quiet conversation with one or two partners. It was too quiet for her to overhear what any of them were saying, and if she wasn't careful, she would end up looking like she was trying to eavesdrop. Assuming that she didn't already.

Pieck stood up, only for her foot to get caught on the table leg when she moved to walk away. The next thing she knew, she was careening toward the ground. In the mere instant that she had to act, she flung her arms out in front of herself and winced, bracing for impact-

- but it never came. Instead, two warm hands grabbed her shoulders tight and pulled her upright. The next thing she knew, she was staring at the face of the blowhard himself, Jean Kirstein.

For a moment, all they did was stare at each other. Then Jean frowned and said, "Geeze. Think you might be a little clumsy for the military?"

How rude, she thought. At the same instant, another voice cried, "Jean!" Over his shoulder, she spotted Marco Bodt scrambling out of his seat and hurrying toward them.

Pieck grinned. "Maybe I was just testing your reflexes."

"My reflexes?" Jean parroted, a hint of confusion washing over his features. It was more endearing than it had any right to be, given how obnoxious his personality seemed so far.

Still, he had saved her from her fall. That had to be worth something.

"Is everything alright?" Marco asked, coming to a stop by Jean's side.

Pieck shifted to face Marco. "Everything's fine, Marco. It's just like I was telling Jean here." She paused to wink at the unfortunate young man in question. "Isn't a gentleman supposed to catch a lady when she falls?"

Jean sputtered. "That's not-" He abruptly let go of her arms, a blush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. "That has nothing to do with it! I just didn't want to stand there and let you hurt yourself."

"You moved really fast," Marco observed, a note of approval and admiration in his voice.

"He did. And it was very noble of him," Pieck said. Jean's face started to turn a little redder, so she made the extremely magnanimous decision to let out a gentle laugh. "I'm just teasing, Jean."

"You're not very funny," he muttered.

"Ah, I disagree," Pieck said, grin stretching a little wider.

Jean opened his mouth, but before he could get another word out, Marco cut in. "You remembered our names?"

"Sure did," Pieck said. She rocked back onto her heels before adding, "Don't tell me you've forgotten mine?"

Now it was Marco's turn to blush. Of course, that just made Jean protest, "Why would we? Shadis didn't stop to chew you out!"

"That's no excuse," Pieck chided. "What if we were in the middle of an emergency and you need to call out to me? We could-"

"Pieck," Jean interrupted.

She blinked. "What?"

Jean stood up a little straighter and grinned smugly. "I just remembered. Your name is Pieck Finger." He sounded far too pleased with himself for someone who had done something as simple as remembering his comrade's name. It was a stupid thing to be so happy about. Yet his happiness was infectious, and Pieck found herself fighting back a laugh.

"You've got me," Pieck said. "The question is, will you remember it next time you see me?"

"Of course!" Jean said. The arrogant boy had the nerve to look a little affronted that she even had to ask.

"I'll try to remember as well!" Marco proclaimed.

This time, Pieck couldn't hold back her chuckle. "We'll see." She took a step backward and to the side - carefully avoiding the table - before saying, "I'm heading to bed. Marco, it was nice to meet you. Jean... thank you for saving my clumsy self."

Jean rubbed the back of his head and looked to the side. "You're welcome, I guess."

"Goodnight, Pieck!" Marco warmly proclaimed.

Pieck let out one last laugh before turning around to stride toward the girl's barracks.

She wasn't supposed to get attached to any of the cadets, yet there was a tiny part of her that couldn't help but acknowledge that this felt like the start of something.

If she was honest with herself, she might say that it felt like the beginning of the end.

[bakageta]

For @symbruary days 3 & 4: Getting There.

Thanks to @saja-star for betaing! 

Title: Meeting Like This

Rating: T

Initially, it pounds Maria's hands against the glass because it wants out. That it will most likely be exchanging one terrible host for another is of little consequence. It will endure whatever it has to so long as it can get out. So long as it can put distance between itself and the prison it landed in. So it can give itself time to recover before recommitting to the plan.

Focus solely on the new host on the other side of its enclosure, it pays no attention to the words Maria is screaming. She has taken over beating on the glass, one last burst of adrenaline giving both her and it strength. It braces itself as the new host attacks the glass. It holds firm against the pain of the alarm and uses Maria to lunge.

Then, after it uses the last of Maria’s strength to bring the new host to the ground, after it grabs the soft meat of the new host’s throat, and after it pours out of Maria's arms, heedless of any damage, it finds that the expected burn of histological incompatibility is absent.

The first, probing hyphae reveal that the new host is either a perfect match or severely immunocompromised. Considering that the new host was able to break through glass that Maria’s weakly controlled limbs could not, a match seems far more likely. So it batters its way into the new host. Any superficial damage can be repaired later, if necessary, but it finds that it does not have to. This new host's flesh melds easily with its own.

For the first time since it crashed on this dirtball, its host’s body soothes instead of burns. The tissues do not welcome it, but they do accept it with the beginnings of only the most generalized inflammatory responses. And even that is good, providing it with warmth and fluids, confirming the presence of an immune system that can be accustomed to its presence.

The new host, Eddie the last fevered gasps of Maria’s mind had called him, is perfect, and the symbiote plans to keep him for as long as it can.

----

They need to act quickly, before Anne can struggle enough to upset their tentative balance. She's a good host, powerful and willful, but she does not mesh well with it. Without a shared goal she would fight against the bond until it would have no choice but to damage her. They do not want that. 

On the way back to Eddie, it told itself that practicality drove the decision. Why keep a strong, compatible host that will fight against you when you can have one that cooperates?

That changes while they stalk the guards leading Eddie. The longing it feels for Eddie as he struggles and snarks and insults is far beyond practicality, and they realize that it wants to apologize to Eddie. Anne does not want to--does not need to--but she knows how to, and that muddles them long enough for Eddie and the guards to reach their destination.

Something about the sight of Eddie knelt before three armed security guards is offensive to both of them. It is a mixed feeling of soft propriety--my Eddie--and of sympathy--oh no, Eddie--that it has never felt before, and they do not have the time to sort through. 

They both make the decision to act, but it is the one who chooses to kill and eat the guards instead of maim them.

"Hi, Eddie," it says while Anne is caught up in what they just did.

"Venom?" Eddie asks, and it does not bother correcting him. He will have time to learn if he lets it apologize.

It does not have the words to ask Eddie’s forgiveness, has only learned the sentiment hours ago, but it can guess at the actions. It knows everything its hosts know, even if it has no context, and Eddie and Anne both remember touches: hands on shoulders, arms wrapping tight around the other’s chest, kissing. 

They’re in too much of a rush for it to build up to anything. No time for finding words, for touching, or for hugging. With Eddie safe, Anne wants it gone. It shares her sentiment.

It grabs Eddie and lifts him up to their face, Anne giving it guidance out of reflex, and kisses him.

The majority of it flows into Eddie through the mucous membranes of his mouth and throat, and this time his tissues welcome it. There’s a feeling of relief at its return that is not just just its own, two beings finding respite in each other. It wants so badly to linger in this moment as long as it can, to draw Eddie into it, to be Venom together in this moment.

But then Eddie clumsily shoves memories at it (he’s restrained, being talked at by human slime, being screamed at by the ugliest thing he’s ever seen, and, oh, things are going wrong fast), and all its wants get put aside. It is going to need to fight if it wants to have a chance to keep Eddie. If it wants to be Venom.

----

Venom separates into their component parts when they hit the water. The currents buffet the remains of the symbiote as Eddie reflexively swims to the surface. It can not keep track of him. The motion of water, crashing of debris, and intermittent explosions blind it. It is lost in buffeting sensation for a few painfully empty moments before a hand grabs what is left of its damaged mass.

It realizes Eddie is holding it after it oozes through the fingers in a reflexive assessment. The symbiote clings to Eddie’s forearm with what strength it has left, trying not to hinder his swim to shore. It had expected to die, and now that it has survived, it feels unmoored.

There is a certain temptation to burrowing into Eddie’s arm and falling into dormancy before he has a chance to reject it. Not that it thinks he will. It apologized, it saved him, saved his planet. He reached out for it.

But “We’re through!” still echoes through its memory. It does not know how to manage the insidious ‘what if?’ that has taken root within it.

Eventually, Eddie crawls out of the bay and throws himself bonelessly on to the sand. He lists, rolling from his side to his back, and clutches the arm the symbiote clings to against his chest. 

The air is cool and wet now, and there is no sound except for the breeze over the bay and distant crackling of fire. They are alone in the sand as far as the symbiote can sense. It has some time before it dries enough to worry about the atmosphere, and the symbiote spends it circling thoughts it never knew how to have until Eddie.

“Don’t tell me I need to put you in my mouth.” Eddie’s voice rumbles against it and spurs it into action. 

No. The symbiote sinks into Eddie’s chest with a burgeoning hope, and this time his mind reaches purposefully for it as his body welcomes it back.

“Then why…” Eddie is too tired to finish out loud, but he closes his eyes and shows it clumsy flashes of memory. Tackled backwards and fighting against the pressure on his neck and mouth and nose and eyes. Lifted up, lips caught by an alien mouth that faded apologetically into his ex fiance’s.

Easier. It is not a lie, but it is also not entirely true. Another thing it has learned.

“Okay,” Eddie agrees, and it can feel him wanting to ask questions.

Instead he flattens the hand that had held it over his sternum and looks up into the sky. From this angle they cannot see the burning wreckage--only the swirling fog--and Eddie exhales.

“We did it,” Eddie says.

We did.

It is a new feeling, like part of a whole fitting into place, not just wanted but necessary.

[dhampirbf]

just finished off my first issue of the new killjoys series, national anthem, here are my thoughts

‼️ spoiler warning lol‼️

instantly dragged me head-fucking-first back into my mcr phase from three years ago. i am ruined. there is SO MUCH i immediately love about this series, from the incredible, poem-esce beginning to the incredible retro art style. the characters are just perfect - on the same wavelength as the others we know and love from previous iterations of kayjay media. mike milligram is edgier than i expected, which is just perfect, because i always felt poison and the gang were a bit too cheery for being stuck in a post-apocalyptic hellscape after surviving a massive war.

as for the plot? amazing. the writing is just as stunning as it was for TTLOTFK and national anthem immediately leaps into the story without delay. the dialogue fits the aesthetic of what we know about the kayjay universe perfectly and the story gives us more insight to what came before the analog wars and what life was like right after. maybe it’s just my interpretation (and of course this is just the first issue), but id love more about what the wars were ACTUALLY like, what it was like to fight in them. i still can’t figure out who exactly the enemy was because BLI and the weird, unseen but ever-present, unnamed oppressor are still in existence after the wars. might just be me, so if anyone knows where to find more on that, hmu. but honestly while reading it, i don’t care about the pieces im missing. it’s THAT good on its own.

the first issue opens with mike bleeding out, which deeply upset me because i do not like to see my favorite characters die, but it was done in such a beautiful way. we get to see how useless he feels - how he’s literally been tossed aside like the garbage he thinks he is - and then our story begins.

we meet the rest of the original fabulous killjoys (i imagine this is a prequel to party poison and the other comic, in my mind poison and val are “generations” following mike) and BOY, they’re incredible. the codes, red and blue, are (i assume) beta versions of the red and blue we see in TTLOTFK. kyle 100%, whose name we don’t learn in the first issue, is pretty reminiscent of kobra but maybe it’s just cuz he’s blond and rollin’ with mike. his design is very new and i totally dig it. animax is probably my favorite of this crew, though. he’s very much new and his design ROCKS. a color changing suit?? for real??? amazing. animax strikes me as the dad friend of the group (he tries to calm down blue and mike at the playground scene with the a.k.as)

SPEAKING of the a.k.as.... holy fuck. adore them. all of them are SO COOL and offer totally new insight to what it might have been like to crawl around in the zones right after the analog wars. so many new faces! new concepts! new headcanons! once again, im in love with their designs and concepts (god bless shaun simon and gerard) and it’s times like these that i wish i was a more talented artist.

another thing i really enjoyed is that the identity of some of the killjoys is more revealed and accessible. blue is called maria right before her (sobbing) death in mike’s arms and we see about halfway through that mike was a grocery store clerk. i’ve seen that red’s name is sophia in some official character design sheets, but we haven’t heard her name in the book yet. but to know that these were normal, real people in the world we live in gives the story a different, heavier context. these characters had their lives uprooted and torn to bits by a war they had to fight in. no wonder mike is so miserable and “screwed up”.

national anthem also immediately touches on trauma more than once and, in my interpretation of the underlying message, points out how trauma is an important tool in shaping who we are as individuals. the pretty subtle thing about the pill marketed to treat the affects of trauma is something that really fascinated me. how the antagonist of this series markets a pill that treats trauma but the side effects essentially make a person lose themselves, navigating life like a zombie.

i also loved the subtle callbacks to the original kayjay universe we know and love, with an appearance of tommy chow mein and a reference to the phoenix witch. however, ive got some criticisms.

first, was not a fan of the romance subplot between blue and mike. blue (and red, for that matter) are characters we know to be lesbians and i really don’t think that should be muddled with. even if blue is bisexual, even polyamorus, and has romantic connections to both mike and red, id personally rather have her stay with red exclusively. maybe it’s just my heterophobia /j but im not a fan. apparently she was even pregnant with mike’s child before she died? ehh.

second, and this is probably just because it’s the first issue, but i feel like there are a lot of questions unanswered. is this an AU or the same universe as TTLOTFK? if it’s the same, what is the timeline for mike milligram and party poison? do they exist at the same time or is party poison inspired by mike, who came before him? or do they exist completely separate? i hope i get these questions answered.

honestly, i may write up something of a review for each issue i read (i have three). it helps me remember what i read, anyway. kinda like an english essay. but overall, i really love this series and this universe. i kinda fell out of kayjays for a few reasons, but a lack of content was definitely one of them. i never thought i’d see killjoys media again and then gerard goes and presents us with this amazing series with new characters and a new story to delve into and it ROCKS.

[martelldoran]

Ave Maria

Title: Ave Maria

Fandom: MCU

Ship: Steve/Bucky

NSFW: No

Summary: 

And Bucky loved him.

It was clear to him now as he sat, head bowed, at his bedside. He had almost lost him, could lose him still, and if that were to happen, he knew that he would lose the very best part of himself.

“How am I supposed to live without you?” he whispers, daring to take Steve’s hand in his own.

Steve has only gone and got himself hurt. Again. So, Bucky keeps a watchful vigil over his friend and struggles with newly realised feelings.

Written as part of @hogwartsonline‘s Dialogue OWLs from the prompt, “How am I supposed to live without you?”. Thank you to @stevenroguers for beta-ing. <3

Read on AO3 or Keep Reading here

Steve’s face is ashen and he looks like death is courting him. Bucky should be at school but he can’t face it. Not when Steve almost died.

He’s kneeling on the floor, the bare wooden boards digging into his knees.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena ,” he mutters, tracing unwilling fingers over his pa’s old rosary.

He doesn’t think it’ll do much good. When has God ever listened to him? But he considers, maybe he’d listen to him today. Or if not him, then maybe his Holy Mother in all her mercy. If only they’d save Steve. Steve, who is good, Steve, who doesn’t deserve to die because he was trying to do the right thing.

“Please, please don’t die on me now. I’ll do anything, give anything .”

The woman who found him bleeding on the sidewalk said he’d sliced himself open trying to vault a fence after running from some asshole with a shiv. She didn’t know why he was being chased, but Bucky could hazard a guess. The guy woulda been ragging on some dame or a skinny, knock-kneed kid and Steve woulda seen and thought, “Not on my watch.”

Bucky didn’t need to know the details because there have been plenty of other assholes Steve has insisted on putting in their place over the years. It didn’t matter that he was barely scraping 5’4” or that he weighed about as much as a Raggedy Ann doll, the boy loved a cause.

And Bucky loved him.

It was clear to him now as he sat, head bowed, at his bedside. He had almost lost him, could lose him still, and if that were to happen, he knew that he would lose the very best part of himself.

“How am I supposed to live without you?” he whispers, daring to take Steve’s hand in his own.

It feels much too small and his skin is cold and clammy. Bucky’s afraid he might break him if he grips too tight. He strokes his thumb across Steve’s knuckles and imagines what it might be like to walk down the street holding this hand. But, as quick as the thought surfaces, he pushes it away, pushes it far down, where no-one, not even he, can see it.

Bucky swallows with a shudder and grips his rosary once more.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena ,” he prays, a tremor running through the familiar words. “Holy Mother, don’t let him die. Have mercy on his soul. Take mine instead even if it’s only worth half as much. The world needs more people like him.”

Steve is meant for more than this, Bucky knows it, has known it for years. All he has to do is make it a few years further, until he's grown, and can take the entire world by storm. And Bucky will stand by his side through it all if Steve will  have him.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena . You’re not so cruel to take him just yet. I pray thee intercede on his behalf, it is not yet his time.

“ Pater noster, qui es in caelis . Will talking directly to you work better? If you damn me, will you save him? Do you hear me, Father? It’s a fair exchange, isn’t it? Take me because I tell you this, I’d let you do it - a thousand times over.”

“James, darlin’? Won’t your ma be wonderin’ where you’re at?” Sarah Rogers’ voice reaches him from the door. Bucky starts. He hadn’t heard her approach. She is silhouetted against the light from the hall but Bucky can see how her worried eyes flicker over her son’s prone body.

Bucky scrambles to his feet, knees protesting after too many hours spent kneeling.

“No, she knows I’m here. I phoned her from the hospital before we left,” he says fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Please, I’d like to stay. If I can?”

“Of course. Stay as long you like,” she says and enters the room fully.

Sarah looks tired, Bucky notes. Her face is drawn and she won’t stop wringing her hands. She approaches the bed and perches at Steve’s side, pushing back his fringe from his sweat soaked forehead. He moans in his sleep and tries to lean into a touch that was barely there. Bucky averts his eyes, it feels like a private moment.

“Are you hungry?” she asks him after a moment, voice tight and tired.

He shakes his head, not wanting to be even more of a burden than he already is even though it has been hours since he’s eaten anything. He hopes that the yawning hole in his stomach won’t give him away. With a heavy sigh, she raises her eyes towards him. It seems as though she might cry.

“I have to work . . .”

“I won’t leave.”

She nods, placated. At least there would be someone with him if the worst was to happen. Bucky shoves the thought away.

Steve’s breathing is shallow and ragged, rattling around his chest like a marble in a beaker. Sure, it rattles at the best of times but this feels different. Death is wet on his breath and her pale fingers are on his cheek.

Bucky resumes his vigil.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena .”

Bucky wakes, hours later bent over the side of the bed with a crick in his neck and strain up his left side. Blinking, confused and with aching knees, he struggles up. Darkness has enveloped the room in a cool embrace and it’s deathly silent.

A horrible thrill of panic shoots through him and he’s climbing across the bed, holding a hand over Steve’s face.

“No, no, no,” he moans, holding very still. “Please be breathing.”

He is. It’s faint but it tickles across his palm like a welcome breeze on a hot day. Bucky sags, his head coming to rest on Steve’s thin chest as he offers up another prayer.

Oh, if only Sister Catherine could see him now. She’d probably piss herself with joy. Finally, the Lord’s good teaching had come home to roost. She’d think he was a proper good Catholic boy in this state, reciting all his prayers nice and proper. But none of this is for her benefit, the Lord’s benefit or even Bucky’s benefit. No. It’s all for Steve. Steve who’s too doped up to pray for his own immortal soul.

So, it’s Bucky’s responsibility to offer up the right words and make sure whoever is listening knows exactly who Steve Rogers is. He couldn’t care one jot about himself. As far as he's concerned, there is nothing waiting for him on the other side but he won’t condemn his friend on his own misgivings.

He settles next to him on the narrow bed, trying not to jostle his still healing body lest he bust open all those neat stitches. There’s a murmur and Steve scoots closer, a frown pulling at his already pinched features. It just about breaks his goddamn heart. With gentle fingers, he pushes Steves’s hair away from his forehead and lets out a low, long breath.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena .” And so the cycle begins again.

With every new repetition, he tries to put as much feeling, as much concentration as he possibly can into it but his mind keeps wandering. He’d never been much good at praying. His ma would scold him for fidgeting during Mass and Becca would get all prissy because she knew the prayers better than he did. It wasn’t his fault. His mind couldn’t stay still, so it always wandered off someplace nicer than the badly lit, stuffy chapel they found themselves in every Sunday.

Usually, it was only bearable because Steve was there too. Half the time his ma was working so they took him, crammed him onto their pew shoulder to shoulder with Bucky who would try his darndest to distract him. Of course, ever the good, god fearing and pious child, he’d swat him away with a reserved smile even when Bucky would pinch the backs of his legs just to get a rise. It never worked but he liked it, relished it, even, because it made him feel important. It made him feel seen.

Well, it’s a damn good thing no-one can see him now with his rumpled shirt, bleary eyes, and hedgerow hair. He is a mess and he’ll be a mess for days to come. He doesn’t plan on going home until he knows Steve will recover. He will. He has to. Bucky will make him. He can do that, right? Because if he can’t, then he’s not sure if he can face what his life will be otherwise either.

He works his way through the rosary again, rubbing each bead with renewed fervour, as if the pressure he exerts correlates directly to how much holy power he can divine. Steve snuffles in his sleep, hooking an arm around Bucky’s leg.

“ Salve Regina, mater misericordiae, vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve. Ad te clamamus exult- exsus - ex- No? Shit.” He could never remember this one.

Fuck the Salve Regina. It was his least favourite prayer.

“ Exsules filii Hevae ,” rasped a thin voice by his side.

“Stevie,” Bucky breathes, dropping the rosary into his lap as if electrified. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They flutter for a moment before one settles on Steve’s back. His pajamas are soaked through and he’s shivering, hands trembling something terrible as he tries to push himself into a seated position. “No, no. Don’t try and sit, you’ll bust your stitches, you goon. Lay back.”

With a groan he does as he’s told. He only ever seems to do that when he’s at death’s door but Bucky takes the victory, small though it may be.

“Water,” croaks Steve. His lids hang heavy, obscuring the blue of his eyes and he can’t seem to focus on anything but he gropes for Bucky’s hand, giving it a squeeze before Bucky pushes off the bed to fulfill the gasped request.

“Here, you go.”

Bucky holds the glass in one hand, supporting Steve’s head with the other as he takes tiny kitten-like sips.

“Sister Catherine would beat your ass for not knowing the Salve,” he tells him when he’s finished, voice breathy as he leans back against the pillows, eyes closed. The faintest hint of a smile curling across his lips.

“Well, it’s a good thing Sister Catherine isn’t here then, isn’t it,” Bucky retorts, rising easily to the bait.

Steve sniggers which turns into a cough which turns into a wince that has him clutching at his belly. Bucky frowns, hands hovering above his friend’s stomach, unsure. Closing his eyes, he takes a breath and chews on his bottom lip, considering his options. He needs to check his stitches and, really, he should get him something clean to wear. If he keeps on shivering like this then it won’t just be the threat of infection they’ll be fighting. Another bout of pneumonia and then the writing really would be on the wall.

That settles it.

With quick, deft fingers, head now feeling blissfully clear, Bucky strips off Steve’s pajama top. The stitches are holding, thank God, so he redresses the wound and then redresses his friend. His chattering teeth still but now, he's keening. The pain meds have worn off and the full, fiery pain down the length of his belly has returned.

Bucky attends to him as best he can. He gives him water and what little food he can bear eating but mostly he sits by his side, serving as an easy distraction. At Steve’s insistence, he squashes into the bed alongside him, letting him rest against his side while he talks. He doesn’t know what he’s saying half the time– he’s rambling ceaselessly to take Steve’s mind off the pain. He tells him about Dorothy, the redhead in his class who’s been making eyes at him, the neighbour’s dog who keeps yapping at all hours of the night, and that he thinks Becca will make a great nurse one day.

“Just like your ma, Stevie,” he says in hushed tones. “Maybe they’ll work in the same hospital. Wouldn’t that be grand? She might be her mentor.”

Sometimes, Steve grunts in response, but mostly he stays silent, breathing still shallow but looking a bit more peaceful.

As he speaks, Bucky’s voice quivers, straining under the pressure of remaining calm and in control for his friend. It wouldn’t help anybody to have him falling to pieces - at least on the outside. Inside, he feels like he’s breaking, like he’s being torn apart piece by grizzly piece. The shock of almost losing him is wearing off now; it’s still rocked him to the bone, but Steve’s ribbed him, tried to make jokes, he’ll be fine. Of course, he’ll be fine. He has to be fine. No, it’s the realisation that the very axis of Bucky’s world now revolves around the boy curled into his side that keeps his mind occupied throughout the night’s steady march towards daybreak.

People out there would have some helluva strong opinions if they found out. He knows what happens to boys like him. Pressing his lips together, Bucky stares up at the ceiling and blinks back the tears that have gathered at the corners of his eyes.

No, he won’t cry. Not about this. Love is supposed to be a glorious, wonderful thing. Didn't Jesus die out of love? Wasn’t God supposed to be all loving and forgiving of all sins?

Except this didn’t feel like a sin.

It felt like salvation.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena . Have mercy on my soul.”

[ao3feed-lokiangst]

Ghosts and Roses

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3ptLm4g

by CG_Shurley

After seeing her parents die.

After being betrayed by the one who called her a friend.

And now, here she was, abandoned in a freezing bunker, drowning in her own blood.

Toni wonders if here time has come.

Her time has come alright, but not in a way she expects.

She is Toni fucking Stark, and Starks always find ways to get back up… even if it’s in the most peculiar way possible.

Words: 1784, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Lucifer (Supernatural), Tony Stark, Death (Supernatural), Howard Stark, Maria Stark, God | Chuck Shurley, Amara (Supernatural), Samael, Harley Keener, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Gabriel (Supernatural), Raphael (Supernatural), Michael (Supernatural), Cain's Father Adam (Supernatural), Eve (Supernatural), Lilith (Supernatural), Gadreel (Supernatural), Peggy Carter, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Terrence Rhodes, Jeanette "Jenny" Rhodes, Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, Thor (Marvel), Loki (Marvel), Ho Yinsen, Obadiah Stane, The Mandarin (Marvel Comics), Aldrich Killian, Ultron (Marvel), Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Thaddeus Ross, Friday (Marvel), Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Edwin Jarvis, Ana Jarvis, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Sharon Carter (Marvel), T'Challa (Marvel), T'Chaka (Marvel), Helmut Zemo, Roberta Rhodes, Angels (Supernatural), Demons (Supernatural)

Relationships: Lucifer/Michael (Supernatural), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added

Additional Tags: Tony Stark is Samael, Lucifer (Supernatural) is Tony Stark, Angel Tony Stark, Lucifer is Called Samael (Supernatural), Rule 63, Genderbending, fuck the rogues, Team Cap bashing, not team Cap friendly, First Fanfiction Be Nice, no beta we die like men, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Team Tony, The Author Regrets Nothing, wait no, The Author Regrets Everything, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Flashbacks, i have become michifer trash and proud of it, Hand wavy science, i go to a science high school and i don't know this shit, i am A S H A M E D, lmao i'm gonna be a writer anyway, english ain't my first language, My First Work in This Fandom, Female Tony Stark, Fem!Tony

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3ptLm4g

[the-omni-princess]

Blood Bound [Chapter Two]

Author: @the-omni-princess

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky x Witch!Reader

Summary: Vampires and witches have been known enemies since the dark ages. Backstabbing, secrets, and magic turned supernatural brethren again each other. As a natural-born witch, you grew up on these stories, your own monsters under your bed. What happens when one of those sworn enemies claims that you are his blood mate, the vampire equivalent of a true mate? Will you give in to this man out of time? Or destroy him for the sake of your Coven?

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: violence, death (both mentions and descriptions), illusions to kidnapping, language, witchy stuff, vampire stuff, oh and angst

A/N: Wildddd man, we GETTING THERE

Anyway! I’d like to thank two cuties. @annaloveloki for always trying to beta (and listen to my stories in the middle of anatomy lectures), and @peterfrxst for listening to all my wild Vamp and Witch ideas. :D

-

[Series Masterlist]  [My Masterlist]

-

----

A week had passed, and while no word had come from the Coven to the north, you were more focused on the pages in front of you. Wanda, bless her soul, let you look through every book with the mere mention of witches and vampires, as well as every book on Bindings. The only book that spoke of Bindings was old and stale. Thick pages barley held together in the seams; Wanda must have found it at an antique shop. Dusty, and it reeked, yet one quick incantation and it looked, well still ancient and worn, but definitely readable again.

According to the book, Bindings were extremely rare among any species, and the world hadn’t seen them in centuries. Bound couples, no matter the species, were extremely powerful if they worked together. And yet, that was their weakness. Each other.

“Y/n! We have a problem!” Carol called out from the living room. You shut the book quickly from your spot on the loveseat in your mini library, a small cloud of dust rising. Coughing, you tossed the book onto the seat. It was a book room really, but with all the spell and potion books, plus your love for reading, the shelves had grown.

Quickly making your way down to the living room, you gulped, noticing how worn down and frankly terrified your Coven sisters all looked. “Shit, what happened?”

Wanda was shaking, and you quickly pulled a nearby blanket over her shoulders, gently leading her to the couch and sitting her down. “They’re dead,” she choked out, eyes brimming with red, you secretly hoped it was from crying and not her powers. Natasha sat beside you two, calming the younger witch slightly. “The North Coven, I found them in their basement… covered in blood,” she shuddered, and despite both your and Natasha’s best efforts, she was clearly still petrified. “Gamora and Nebula are gone, but the rest of them are dead. No trace of what did it,” she broke into another sob, and you didn’t hesitate to pull her into your arms. She buried her face into your shoulder, crying. It broke your heart, but you silently hoped Gamora and Nebula had made it out unharmed.

“We should inform the Council,” Carol spoke, giving the rest of you a look. “An entire coven missing or dead, they need to know.”

“They’ll ask too many questions,” Maria looked over at her. “They’ll sense y/n from a mile away, and we’ve hidden her for far too long to let them have her now,” she tried to reason.

Nat nodded, but sighed softly, looking towards the still crying girl in your arms. “We have to do something though. Who else could we contact?” You bit your lip, definitely and totally not thinking about your blue-eyed vampire. “Y/n?” she broke you from your thoughts, “Who gave you lavenders?” Everyone’s head, including Wanda’s curious yet puffy-cheeked one, looked towards the vase of lavender flowers on your kitchen island.

“Those are there for protection…” you hoped to end the conversation there, but Nat was far too observational for your own good.

“Yeah, but you don’t have any of those in your garden, and they don’t naturally grow anywhere nearby, andyou haven’t left this house all week.” She gave you a pointed look, tugging Wanda into her own arms like a mother hen.

“Um… well?” how could you explain that a cute vampire left them on your back porch the night before?

“Well?” Carol sat down, intrigued to say the least.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “Have you guys ever heard of Bindings?”

Maria tilted her head, “Isn’t that like soulmates? I thought that was just a myth.”

You looked towards the lavenders, smiling faintly. As much as you hated how easy it was, you trusted the vampire, and you ignored your mother’s voice in your head telling you otherwise. “I felt a presence in the woods, right after our crystals exploded, so I explored it-“

“Were you tryingto die? Jeez, that’s how you die young, horror movie style, y/n,” Carol chided.

“I know, I know, but it made me feel safe, and I don’t know. It felt like…” you ran your hand over your face, eyebrows scrunching up as you thought. “Like a warm bath on a cold day, or lighting a new candle, or snuggling in blankets while watching a movie, it felt like home. I just followed that little tug until it led me into the woods, and to James.”

“James?” Wanda looked up from the safe space of Natasha’s arms.

“Yep, James… How do I say this without being judged?”

“Y/n, you’re a natural-born witch that we’ve kept hidden from the Council for years, you can tell us anything.” Nat pointed out, placing an encouraging hand on your knee.

Taking a shaky breath, you nodded. “Well, for starters, he’s a vampire,” you saw Carol stiffen beside you. “And he claims, we are Bound.”

--

“I know you are an idiot, but this is a new level even for you, Buck,” The vampire sighed loudly, despite the fact he didn’t need to breathe in centuries.

“Like I chose to be Bound to a Witch, Sammy?” Bucky looked up towards Sam, who gave him a glare.

“Okay, sure, you didn’t, but all you do is hang around her house like a guard dog. You already love her, don’t you?” He gave him a look.

He scoffed, “I do not love her. I just-“ he groaned, taking a seat on the dirty motel floor they were renting for the month. “She feels right… this hole in my chest that’s been there since the second I woke up, well like this, is gone the second I see her.”

Sam and Steve shared a look before Steve spoke up, “Bucky, I’m happy for you, truly, but you need to be careful. The Witch Council isn’t quite happy with vamps, they’ll kill both of you if it’s true she’s your Bound.”

The brunet nodded, running a hand through his hair, “I’m not going to let that happen. I’ll protect her.” He seemed to be trying to convince himself, but Steve and Sam knew him better than that.

“By stalking her and buying her flowers?” Sam chided, giving him a look.

“No, I’ll talk to her. I just…” he groaned, gripping his head as a wave of dizziness hit him, and he quickly sat down for it to pass, but all it did was start to drown him.

“It’s happening again isn’t it?” Steve was suddenly beside him, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He nodded, “Since we came to this town, it feels like my human side wants to make a comeback,” he glanced up at the blonde. “You said when you turned me you weren’t sure what I was running from, you absolutely sure you don’t know what I was running from?”

“Buck, we’ve talked about this, we had only known each other a few years. You knew what I was without me telling you, you looked depressed, and you were on the run. Whatever you were running from, it wasn’t anything good. You would wake up with nightmares, crying, calling out for someone, you were frankly a mess. Yet you begged for me to turn you, or let you die trying, so I honestly can’t say what you were running from before you lost those memories.”

Sam jumped in, although hearing the story before, he thought of something new, “What name was he calling out?”

Steve thought for a moment, Bucky now looking up at him too, not really thinking to have asked that question. “Theodosia,” he finally recalled.

Bucky stiffened, a flash of colors moving through his vision. He groaned, clutching his head, and rubbing his temples, as he silently begged for the vision to stop. Stupid, fickle human memories. He wanted the memories, fuck, he craved the memories, but the pain with this one felt like a knife carving into his skull.

“Bucky! You should not just steal things like that, the villagers will begin to question us,” the girl in front of him had her arms crossed as she scolded him.

“It’s fine, sweetling, the mortals won’t know a thing,” his voice sounded different to his ears. Mortal, he realized. He sounded human. Vampire hearing was enhanced, so of course, his human hearing sounded muddled in retrospect.

The girl rolled her eyes, kaleidoscope eyes, with rich warm colors, luring him in. “You say that often, but just last week they kidnapped another girl. I think they are on to us.”

“Nonsense,” he reasoned, grinning as he kissed her hair, a wave of honey, cedar, lavender, and juniper filling his senses. “I’ll protect you, Theo,” he grinned, wrapping the girl into his arms.

His brown overcoat draped around her, making her smile up at him adoringly. “Do not make promises you cannot keep, James Barnes,” she warned, scrunching up her nose teasingly towards him.

He chuckled, tightening his hold on her, “Why would I not keep my promise?”

As they walked together through the words, his vision blurred, before focusing on a different part of the woods, an entirely different scene laid before them.

It was her again. Yet the sight before him made him sick. Eighteen girls lined up, nooses around their necks. Some were crying, hysterical, others were begging for their lives, and yet his girl was still, calm. At peace.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, and as they focused on his, he saw them widen. ‘Go’ she mouthed, but he didn’t listen, taking a step towards her. He was determined, he had to save her, he had to fight for her. She quickly shook her head, silently pleading for him to run, a quiet plea for him to save himself. One of the men in his way grabbed onto his arm, slowing his movements. “Let me go,” he growled lowly, attempting to tug his arm back. He had always been strong, he knew he could take on this man.

As the winds picked up, the girl squirmed on the stool she was standing on. “It is too late, it is over for her,” the man spoke, and the winds started to howl. The cool September air whipped her hair around her face, her bonnet long gone as she had been dragged to this very spot. “What are you?” The few men listening were now turning towards him. “Oh, good God! You are one of them!”

As more people turned, he felt his heart pump faster, preparing for a fight. “James!” His eyes locked onto hers, and she gave him a small smile. “Run, please. I love you,” she whispered, yet the winds carried her voice to him, and he shuddered.

One of the men stepped forward, kicking the stool away from her legs, just as he lurched forward. “Theo!” He cried out, one of the men grabbing onto him, two more joined the first and he couldn’t stop as he saw her dying in front him. Fury was the first emotion to burn into his body, before an idea came next. He couldn’t care less of the village trying to stop him. Her. She is all that matters. Save her.

He whispered softly, the howling wind thrashed the tree branches as the men kicked the stools out behind each of the girls. One of the men holding him suddenly gripped his own chest, falling to the ground dead. A dull golden glow slithered onto the ground like a snake, under shoes, around ankles, until it surrounded her now still body. He was never good at these sorts of things, but he had to try, he couldn’t just give up.

The winds died down with his breath, and the men let him go. He rushed forward, using his knife to cut the rope, pulling her chilling body into his arms. “No, no, no, no. You cannot leave me. I promised! Please, Theo,” he pleaded, gently brushing her hair out of her face. She merely looked like she was sleeping, yet he knew better. “I promised,” he murmured, sniffling loudly.

He hadn’t even realized that he was crying, until someone stepped forward, and the cool air made his cheeks freeze. “Another one,” he accused, and despite the growing pit in his stomach, Bucky knew he couldn’t stay. And yet, he didn’t want to leave. How could he run when his reason for living was gone from this cruel earth?

A hand grabbed his arm, strong enough to drag him away from her. He cried out, weeping out that he couldn’t leave her. As he was dragged away he could only think one thing. He promised. He lied.

“Bucky!” Steve’s voice pulled him from his memories. He was shaking, Steve and Sam both coming into focus, both kneeling beside him, wearing matching worried looks on their faces. He ran his hands over his face, then his hair, and his cheeks were damp with tears. “What did you see?” Despite his huge size, and the fact he could kill an army in seconds, Steve was a big teddy bear.

“Theodosia,” He whispered softly, looking up towards the men, broken, sorrow filled eyes still brimming with tears. “I loved her, and she was killed…”

Sam took a deep breath, sitting beside him on the floor, “That’s rough… before you were turned I would assume?”

He nodded, looking up towards Steve. “But we have another problem…” He took a shaky breath, he was always the calm one, and yet he only felt the hole in his chest press down on him. The invisible weight in his chest called to him, the insatiable demand to be close to his Bound starting to overwhelm him, and he wasn’t sure why this Binding was calling to him after flashes of his past. “And I think she was a witch.”

---

Tags:

Permanent Tags:

@minetticatinwonderland  / @lumar014 / @maniacproffesor / @gollyderek / @nerdy-bookworm-1998

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings  / @darkness-doughter / @novaddictx / @thedancingnerdmermaid / @mood-pancakes / @gracethegeek9902 / @annavega333 / @ravennightingaleandavatempus / @thelibraryoffanfiction

Blood Bound Tags:

@itz-kira / @rinthehufflepuff / @evilzinblr / @starkrobb

Thought you’d like it :D Tags:

@geosaurusrrex

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

[tonystarkbingo]

TSB MIV Week 17 Roundup!

We have only TWO MONTHS LEFT for this round of TSB!

Title: When We Break With Tradtions - Chapter 1: A New Path Collaborator: J_Gun_i (Fighting_for_Creativity) Card Number: 4004 Link: AO3 Square Filled: T5 - Fatigue Ship: Ironhusbands, (pre)M'Baku/Rhodey/Tony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Spiritual Man M'Baku, Established Rhodey/Tony, Meddling Shuri, panic attack (?), strong opinion against outsiders (at first), kinda soulmates. Summary: M'Baku was approached by Princess Shuri who had an unusual request. Agreeing to it, M'Baku found soon out that he set things into motion, he'd never have dreamed of. But what can he do when souls are bound to be together. Also, no one is safe from a meddling Princess Shuri. Word Count: 8625

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Title: a moment in between Collaborator: ohjustpeachy Card Number: 4017 Link: AO3 Square Filled: S5 - Fears appear in reality Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Gen Major Tags: hurt/comfort, angst Summary: Those few blissful seconds right before he regains complete consciousness sometimes feel like all he has left. Then, of course, the realization hits, and Rhodey feels the loss all over again, hears the words anew every time. Complete paralysis. Tonight is one of those nights. Or, Rhodey wakes from a nightmare and Tony does what he can. Word Count: 1203

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Title: Rumor Has It Collaborator: Faustess Card Number: 4059 Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - Holding Hands Ship: IronHusbands; Pepper/Steve Rating: Gen Major Tags: Implied (not actual) Infidelity Summary: Rhodey wakes up to find Tony reading aloud to Pepper and Steve about his (supposed) wild, playboy lifestyle and their respective roles in it. Jim Rhodes is not caffeinated enough for this kind of hilarity. Word Count: 1319

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Title: m the Edge (Screaming My Name) Collaborator: ralsbecket Card Number: 4056 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A3 - Free Space Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Major character death, angst/tragedy, canon-typical violence Summary: They’d gotten there too late. Everyone used to joke with Steve about him being the Man Out of Time, and today of all days the reminder is just a sharp slap to the face. Maybe he needs a slap to the face, Steve thinks briefly, because then at least he would feel something. Word Count: 5128

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Title: a lifetime’s a short time (when love never ends) Collaborator: deehellcat Card Number: 4028 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A2 - whump Ship: Pepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: Canonical Character Death, Dementia, Grief, Aging, Avengers Endgame compliant, with all that implies, I'm Sorry, Implied Suicidal Actions Summary: Years have taken a lot from Pepper, and in the waning of her life, even her memories begin to fall away. Word Count: 2101

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Title: Along Collaborator: periwinklepromise Card Number: 4053 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A1 - Lip Sync/Karaoke Ship: Maria Hill/Natasha Romanova Rating: Teen Major Tags: none Summary: “Remind me again why I agreed to this?” Maria grumbles. Natasha gives a slim smile. “Because I asked you to.” Word Count: 388

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Title: That’s Fiancé Badass Collaborator: JehBeeEh Card Number: 4058 Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - Image (IM3 - Tony Handcuffed by his captors) Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Mob AU, Fluff, BAMF Tony Summary: Steve Rogers was many things. Patient was not one of them. This usually seemed to be less of a problem where his beloved Tony was concerned, but tonight his patience was wearing thin. He had plans. And Tony was late for them. When his phone rang, 20 minutes past the hour, he did his best not to let his irritation show. He really did try. “Anthony,” he answered in a levelled but commanding voice. “You better have a very good reason for being late tonight of all nights, my love.” Word Count: 1880

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Title: At the End of the Day Collaborator: Politzania Card Number: 4007 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A2 - Writing Format: Past Tense Ship: Stony Rating: Gen Major Tags:  domestic fluff, established relationship, sleep deprived!Tony Summary:  Steve helps Tony get undressed after a long day, gently fending off his overtures along the way. Word Count: 416

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Title: i am the horizon that you ride towards - Chapter 1 Collaborator: deathsweetqueen Card Number: 4066 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R4 - Kink: Alpha/Beta/Omega Society Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: major character death, rape, underage content. Warnings for this Chapter: forced marriage Summary: Tony’s mother and father die when he is sixteen. He doesn’t mourn his father, but when he sees his mother’s still, gaunt face, the dark colour of her skin washed out, there are tears in his eyes that falls, running down his face in rivers, matting in the collar of his jerkin. “Come,” Obadiah says, coldly, his hand landing on Tony’s shoulder. Tony cringes, but follows, mostly because he has no other choice – Obadiah, as his father’s second-in-command, had made his feelings clear; he had no intention of caring for his dead liege lord’s omega son, not when he could get to business and begin making alliances with Tony as the thing to be sold to some stranger like a horse. Word Count: 4664

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Title: My Favourite Day Dream Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Card Number: 4048 Link: Tumblr  Square Filled: T5 - arranged marriage Ship: Stony, Natasha/Reader Rating: Teen Major Tags: mentions of homophobia Summary: Forced to marry as young nobles, both Anthony and the reader had to abandon the people they truly loved for status and reputation. When Sir Steven and his trusty assassin Natasha agree to spend a few nights at their estate, the pair have the chance to see their loves again. However, around Steven, Anthony is a blabbering mess and Natasha is still angry that the reader chose to marry for duty over running away with her. Can they find their happiness or will they waste their second chance? Word Count: 1581

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Title: Iron Man + Avengers A Collaborator: rebelmeg Card Number: 4034 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: T5 - framed Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: cross stitch Summary: Cross stitch of tiny Iron Man flying around an arc reactor blue Avengers A

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Title: In Victory, and in Defeat Collaborator: JehBeeEh Card Number: 4058 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A3 - free space Ship: Stony Rating: Teen Major Tags: marriage proposal, fluff and angst Summary: The Battle of New York seems all but lost. Until it isn't. And Tony can't risk saving the world without knowing the answer to a very important question first. Word Count: 2146

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Title: soothing Collaborator: ohjustpeachy Card Number: 4017 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A1 - writing format: drabble Ship: Stony Rating: Gen Major Tags: fluff, drabble Summary: Steve realizes that the arc reactor has a sound. Word Count: 100

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Title: untitled Collaborator: Nicnac Card Number: 4048 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S2 - Riri Williams Ship: Tony Stark & Riri Williams Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: Ironheart moldboard Word Count: N/A

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Title: Bowling for Platypuses Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Card Number: 4042 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A5 - Dark Alleys Ship: IronBros Rating: Gen Major Tags: Moodboard Summary: A moodboard for rebelmeg’s and my yet-to-be-actually-written fic in which Rhodey out-pranks Tony at a glow-in-the-dark bowling alley using an intriguing fact of platypus biology. Word Count: N/A

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Title: Skinmage Collaborator: 27dragons Card Number: 4027 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R5 - AU: Urban Fantasy Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: AU: Urban Fantasy, Tattoos, Magic, Pre-relationship Summary: The magic for making pictures move was relatively well-documented, though it was a difficult and costly process. But getting marks on the skin to react -- that was infinitely harder, complicated by the living cells of the canvas and compounded by the changeability of the shape.There was archaeological evidence of past civilizations that had dabbled in it, usually reserved for especially high-ranking leaders. But those cultures had jealously guarded those secrets, and to the best of Tony’s knowledge, no one had ever managed to actually replicate the art. Word Count: 1027

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Title: A nice day for self-discoveries Collaborator: Gottalovev Card Number: 4077 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A1 - Kink: Figging Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Slight BDSM (hair pulling, exploring power dynamics, talk of kink, talks of figging-but do not get your hopes up, I didn't tag it for honesty), blow job, hand job. Summary: Tony gets the wrong idea when he sees what Steve bought at the grocery store. (It leads to sex anyway). Word Count: 3772

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Title: Stanley Cups Before Wedding Rings Collaborator: JehBeeEh Card Number: 4058 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R3 - Arena Ship: Stony Rating: Teen Major Tags: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers and his team just won the most coveted trophy in hockey. And yet, that's still not the best part of his night. Word Count: 2040

[kayteewritessteve]

Secrets and Sins - Epilogue

Description: You flee from an abusive situation and find yourself on the other side of the country, creating new friends and possibly finding new love. But will you be able to escape your past? To truly move on with your life? Or will everything come crashing down around you in the blink of an eye?

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 4,230 ish.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Curse words. Brief mentions of abusive behaviour, and moments of abuse—nothing to in depth but could be upsetting to some. Plus possible other triggering thoughts and feelings described.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

Whelp, there she is, the end of this series! On to the next one now! I hope you all enjoy this final part!!

You woke up to the sun shining in through the giant bay bedroom windows. You slowly opened your eyes as they adjusted to the world around you. Or rather, to the very handsome blonde sleeping in front of you. You both were on your sides, facing each other, with his arms around you, holding you close. Your eyes traveled his face, he looked so calm, so peaceful. Your mind drifted back to the events from a year ago, and just how far you both had come…

1 year ago.

The morning after the gala and the amazing first night you spent with Steve, you both woke up to a bunch of frantic knocks at the bedroom door. Steve groaned then climbed out of bed, grabbing his shirt off the floor and handing it to you before pulling on his sweats. He waited till you put the shirt on and covered your lower half with the blankets, then he opened the door to find Bucky on the other side. The aforementioned looked passed him and his eyes widened for a second then a grin formed on his lips. He looked back at Steve and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Steve groaned again and dragged a hand down his face, “What do you want, jerk?”

You and Bucky laughed then he spoke up, “Well, I now have a bunch of new questions, but we will revisit those later.” He waved it off and smirked as he pushed passed Steve into the room.

Steve just sighed and shut the door. “Yes by all means, please come on in, Buck,” he said exasperatedly.

“You’re gonna want to hear what I have to say, Boss.” Bucky replied as he reached the foot of the bed and turned to face Steve, he was all business now.

Steve straighten up instantly at his friends change in tone, “What is it?”

“Last night, while you were putting Y/N in the car, I overheard Sharon on the phone. At the time, what she said didn’t really mean anything, but I quickly clued in later on, when Y/N called you.”

“What did she say on the phone?” Steve's voice was deep now, dark even. You figured he was piecing things together currently, just as you were. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to clue into where Bucky was going with this.

“All I heard was ‘She’s leaving now.’”

You watched as anger flashed in Steve's eyes and his jaw clenched tightly, then he walked around the bed and picked his phone up off the nightstand. Quickly typing something, your guess was a text. He looked up from the phone and locked eyes with you, you could tell he was still tense but looking at you seemed to calm him, just a little.

“What’s your plan, Steve?” Buck asked, hesitantly.

But before he could respond his phone pinged in his hand. He broke the eye contact with you and looked down at it again. A vengeful smirk graced his face and it sent a chill down your spine. You would have never wished in a thousand years to be Sharon—the thought had never even crossed your mind—But in this exact moment it did, and you were fucking thankful you weren’t her. Whatever Steve had planned, it was not going to be pretty. That much you knew.

“You’ll see,” he finally responded. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we both need to get dressed.” He ushered Bucky out of the room before he could say anything else, closing the door behind him.

“Steve..?” You softly asked, not sure if you even should. He turned and walked back towards the bed, sitting on the edge of it, just staring at the door. “She is the reason he was here, the reason he was able to find you last night. To attack you.” He turned to look at you, “I can’t let her get away with that.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“What I have to. What she deserves,” he said firmly, unwaveringly.

Your eyes widened, “Please tell me you’re not going to kill her!?” There had been enough death around you in the last 24 hours and even though you hated Sharon, more then really anyone else now, she didn’t deserve to die for being a petty little bitch. Even if her being gone would make your life so much easier. Would guarantee your safety even more. But you had Steve, you knew he’d always protect you and there wasn’t really much Sharon could do to you now.

“It’s what she deserves, Y/N,” he growled out then paused and took a deep breath, clearly not wanting to take his anger out on you. He levelled out his voice, “She almost got you killed. I can’t allow her to continue living.” He shook his head, “Not if it risks your life.”

Then you had an idea, “What if there is another way?” You asked.

“I don’t see how there could be?” He raised a sceptical brow at you.

“Just hear me out…”

Later that night.

Steve heard the front door open and someone entering the foyer. He left his room and began to make his way down the stairs, his demeanour was calm, collected. As to not give away his true emotions. His eyes landed on her, Sharon, now standing at the bottom of his stairs. The grin on her face almost broke his resolve, but he fought through it and smiled back at her. It was fake, but she’d never be able to tell. “Sharon, thank you for joining me,” he said as he descended the final few steps towards her.

“I was so happy to hear from you,” she mused then her head turned as she looked around the home, or at least at what she could see from where she stood. “Where’s Y/N?” She asked innocently.

What Sharon didn’t know was that the night before, Brock had failed at kidnapping Y/N. Bucky and Clint had gotten Maria out of the car and off to their doctor. While Sam and Peter dealt with the 6 bodies and Brock’s truck. They had managed to keep everything quiet, and out of the news and gossip circles for now. Buying Steve the time he needed to lure Sharon out so he could deal with her.

So as of now, she was oblivious to what was coming her way. But she’d learn pretty damn fast.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “She wasn’t in her room last night,” he added, it wasn’t a lie. “Not sure where she went.”

“Oh,” she tried to fake shock, but failed. “I’m sorry to hear that, Steve, but most women just aren’t cut out for this lifestyle, I guess,” she shrugged as well. “You need someone who is,” she smirked, wickedly.

“It’s funny you should say that,” he started to lead her down the hall, to the right, towards his office, “because I was just thinking the same exact thing.”

“And do you have someone in mind?” She cooed as they reached his office door.

“I do,” he nodded as he opened the door and walked in, Sharon following closely behind.

But the second the door was closed he moved quickly. He spun around on her and his hand went to her lower throat as he pushed her up against the wall, pulling his hidden gun from the back waistband of his pants. He always kept one there, just in case. He pointed it in her face and the anger was now written all over his. “And it’s not you,” he growled, “How fucking dare you. You think I wouldn’t find out you were behind Brock being here!?” He seethed. “You think I don’t know what happens in my fucking city, Sharon?”

Her eyes were so wide it looked like they were about to burst out if her head. “S-steve, let me explain!” She quickly stuttered out.

“Too late for explanations, Shar, you betrayed me. My trust. And now you will pay for it. I can’t allow you to continue living. Not now.” He shook his head, “you brought this on yourself.”

“W-wait!” She put her hands up in surrender, “J-just hear me out!”

“Too late,” he clicked off the safety but then the door burst open, slamming into the wall with a bang, and Sharon damn near jumped out of her skin. Both of them turning their heads to look at you.

“Steve! Wait!” You yelled as she abruptly entered the room. “Please don’t kill her Steve. Please,” you pleaded, as you stood just in the doorway hands up in front of you, in an attempt to calm him.

“She deserves to die for what she did to you!” He spat as he turned to glare back at Sharon again.

“She doesn’t,” you shook your head, “I can’t condone you killing her for me. If anything I should be thanking her, she helped me eradicate Brock from my life, along with the bounty.”

“She betrayed my trust,” he growled.

“So?” You stepped closer to him, cautiously, “Did you actually ever trust her to begin with?”

He looked at you for a moment before he narrowed his eyes and flicked them back to Sharon, who had stayed completely silent this whole time. Her eyes still wide and shifting between you both as you spoke. Then he shook his head, “that doesn’t matter, you can’t betray the fucking King of New York and live.”

“I understand that,” you reached out your hand, slowly and placed it on his wrist, urging him to lower his gun, “but she wasn’t doing it to betray you. She was doing it, in her mind, for you.”

His eyes looked first at your hand on his wrist, then darted up to lock onto yours. After a few intense seconds he sighed and lowered the gun. But his hand remained on her lower neck, pinning her to the wall still. “Then what do you think we should do with her?” He asked calmly though the frustration and anger in his voice was still evident.

You thought it over for a moment then answered, “Send her away. Kick her out of New York, never to be allowed to return. She may not deserve to die, but she doesn’t deserve to stay here either.”

Sharon looked at you and you could almost see the relief in her eyes at your words, then she looked towards Steve.

He shook his head, “She’d never stay away, I can’t risk her trying to harm you again.” He lifted up the gun once more and pointed it at her.

“Please Steve—“ you started to beg, but then Sharon cut you off, “No! No, I promise,” she quickly spat out. “I-i’ll leave. I’ll never come back. Y-you won’t ever hear from me again!”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Because I don’t want to die,” she shook her head, “you have to believe that. I know you believe that.”

“Then how do I know you won’t just hire someone to kill Y/N.”

“You don’t,” she said honestly and Steve's grip on her neck tightened, “but! But,” she quickly added hands up in defence again. “She could have let you kill me, however, she didn’t. If you let me walk away, I’ll owe her my life. I won’t send anyone after her, I swear it on my life.”

The whole time she was talking, his eyes stayed glued to you. Just as yours did to him. After a very intense moment, Steve finally looked back at Sharon and released her from his hold. Lowering the gun and setting the safety again, before tucking it back into the waistband of his pants. Sharon collapsed to the floor in a heap as you moved towards her, to comfort her.

Steve straighten up, “Sharon, I hereby ban you from the state of New York, you have 12 hours to get out or I will kill you.” He turned and walked towards his desk as you helped her up and started to walk her towards the door, but you both paused as he spoke up again. “Oh and Shar, if you ever step foot in my city again, or if harm ever comes to Y/N because of you, it will be a instant death sentence. I will hunt you down and finish what we started here today.”

She looked from you to him then nodded her answer, confirming that she understood what he had told just her. You walked her down the hall and to the front door. “Thank you,” she whispered.

You turned to her and shook your head, “You don’t need to thank me, I don’t believe anyone deserves to die because of me. My life is not worth more than another’s.”

“Not many people would hold the same sentiments as you. So I do need to thank you. I’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for you.”

“Well, I’m glad you aren’t, and I hope you can find a new, peaceful life for yourself out there. Somewhere. I truly do.”

She smiled at you, and for the first time ever, you believed it was a real one. A true smile. Then she nodded, “I better get going before he changes his mind or my 12 hours are up.”

You smiled back and opened the door for her. Then with that she left. You didn’t know it at the time but that would, in fact, be the last time you’d ever see her again, the last time you’d ever hear from her. She’d keep her word to you both. You closed the door then turned around and headed back to Steve’s office.

You walked in to find Steve leaning on his desk, arms crossed in front of him. “I think she bought it,” you said as you smirked. Having to be nice to Sharon was fucking difficult, but you had to make her feel indebted to you. Like she owed you and this wasn’t all a giant act you and Steve had planned out.

“Thanks to your surprising acting skills,” he laughed as he pushed off the desk and walked towards you. “You actually had me fooled for a second there.”

You laughed, “Says the guy who actually had me thinking he might just kill her anyways. Regardless of our plan.”

He smirked, “I always stick to my plans.” He grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled you gently towards him, “at least the ones involving you.”

You rested both hands on his chest as you looked up at him, one eyebrow now raised, “Oh, is that so?”

“Yup,” he mock growled as he leaned down to kiss you. Both smiling like fools into the kiss which then caused you both to burst out laughing—

Present.

“You’re staring again,” his sleepy voice pulled you from your thoughts. His eyes were still closed. “It’s creepy,” he added, and scrunched up his nose, though you could tell he was just messing with you. It wasn’t creepy at all, he secretly loved it.

“I can stare at you all I want,” you lowered your voice now to sound more like his. Or rather more to mock how he would always said this next part to you, “Because you are mine.”

His eyes snapped opened and he glared at you, which made you burst out laughing. “Are you mocking me?” He asked.

“Me? Mock you?” You feigned ignorance and innocence, then gasped, “I would never!”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I think I’ll need to punish you for this,” he threatened, and you instantly went to jump out of bed to get away from him, knowing exactly what this ‘punishment’ would be. But you weren’t fast enough, his large hands grabbed your hips and pulled you back into the bed. Pinning you under his much larger form, then he started to tickle you. Your biggest weakness. Fucker knew you too well. Even after only a year.

You squirmed and screamed as you tried to get away from him, though he was way stronger than you so any efforts were futile, at best. There was only one thing you could do to stop him. Or rather, distract him. You reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, catching him off guard and pulled him down to you. Your lips crashed into his and his attack instantly ceased. His eyes widened for a second then slammed shut as he melted into the kiss.

You now had him right where you wanted him. So before he could even react you flipped both of you so that you were now on top. Granted, probably not for long, but it was all about the small accomplishments. You pumped your fists in the air in mock victory, “I win! I win!” You joked.

He just stared up at you then started to laugh, “I let you.”

You arms dropped instantly, scoffing, “Pffft. Please! I won this one fair and square.”

“Oh, you think so?” He shook his head, “you cheated.”

“I did not!” You gasped as your hand flew up to your chest as you feigned outrage now, “I just simply used your weaknesses against you, just as you did to me!” Then you smirked down at him, “You’re just sad that I bested you,” you taunted.

You saw his eyes darken then screamed in shock as he flipped you both, so he was now on top, once again. Then he just stared down at you, his eyes travelling over your face. Before he whispered something that sounded a lot like ‘Marry me.’ Your brows knitted together because you couldn’t have heard that right, right?

“What did you just say?” You asked breathlessly. He smirked then pushed himself up and off the bed, quickly disappearing down the hall to the master bathrooms and closets. You propped yourself up on your elbows in bed and watched as he did. Even more confused now.

After a moment he came back into the bedroom, one of his hands behind his back. You raised a questioning brow at him as he came over to the bed, and the hand not behind him reached out for you to take. You just stared at it then up at him, he chuckled then wiggled the hand he had out to you, as if urging you to take it. So you did, cautiously, then he gently pulled you up and out of bed to stand.

Once you were, he stood there for a few seconds just looking down at you, he seemed …nervous? You’d be lying if you said you weren’t also nervous.

He took a step back and lowered onto one knee, still holding your hand. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted to do this,” he paused, “Or how I had planned it.” He laughed nervously, “but then again, our relationship has never been a conventional one.” You both smirked at just how true that statement was. He then cleared his throat, “Y/N, I have never met anyone like you. I have never felt this way about anyone before. I think,” he paused, “I think I have loved you from the first moment I met you, when you tried to awkwardly run in the opposite direction from me, or maybe even from the moment I first laid eyes on you, entering that club. I don’t honestly know, but either way, I know that you are the only woman for me. There will never be anyone else. You have changed me in so many wonderful ways, in such a short amount of time, and I strive to be worthy of you, to deserve you. To make you happy and keep you safe,” the hand behind his back moved to in between you both but your eyes stayed locked on his. You knew were this was going, but in this moment all you cared about was watching him, memorizing his face, his words, his beautiful blue eyes, every part of him as this unfolded. The moment where he would ask you those 4 little words that would forever link you to each other. “Y/N, I love you with all that I am,” he released your hand then fiddled with, what you could only assume was, the ring box between you, but you refused to break eye contact with him, not yet, you didn’t care what the ring looked like. You already knew what your answer would be. “Will you marry me?” He asked, FINALLY!

You felt the tears well up in your eyes instantly, upon hearing those 4 little words “Yes! Yes! Oh god, a million times yes!” You practically yelled out in excitement then you pushed his hands out of the way and lunged towards him, damn near knocking him over as your body slammed into his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and crashed your lips to his in a frantic and messy, yet passionate, kiss.

You felt the tears streaming down your cheeks as you did. His arms wrapped around you and held you tight to him as he kissed you back. But then he pulled away reluctantly after a moment, and you felt his hands moving a bit behind your back then the soft sound of something hitting the floor. He took hold of your left hand and you finally looked down, watching as he slipped the beautiful diamond engagement ring onto you ring finger. You took a second to admire it then flicked your eyes back to his, finding them just watching you. Silently.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he whispered back as he kissed the tip of your nose. Then he smirked and growled out, “Now, let me show you just how much.” He scooped you up bridal style then stood up, he deposited you on the bed and you giggled with excitement as he crawled on after you.

A few amazing hours later you both finally emerged from the bedroom, in search of food. He offered you his arm and you happily took it as you both made your way down to the kitchen. Finding the whole gang, including Nat and Wanda, hanging out in the kitchen.

Wanda had become close with everyone, Vis especially, when she started to spend more time here after you’d officially moved in. She was here almost any day she wasn’t working now. Today being one of her days off, clearly. And Nat ended up moving into the house a few months after you did, things with her and Bucky were going just as well as things with Steve and you were.

They all went quiet and looked at you both as you entered, then Bucky spoke up, “We were wondering if we’d ever see either of you again,” he smirked. And Nat quickly swatted him in the arm, “Shhhh,” she hissed before whispering, “look at her hand.” As she nodded with her head towards you. Then everyone's eyes darted to your left hand, every face breaking out into a huge smile once they saw it.

“Holy shit!” Bucky gaped, and turned to Sam. “He actually did it,” he whispered. Everyone burst out laughing at Bucky’s obvious shock then one by one they congratulated you both.

Maria came around the island and pulled you into a deep hug, since that horrible night you and Maria had become close, damn near inseparable. She was like the sister you never had but always wanted. Wanda, Nat, Maria and yourself had all become really close, actually. The boys had jokingly nicknamed you all the ‘fantastic four’ whenever you were all together. It had started as a joke but you all loved the nickname so much you decided to keep it.

The guys all congratulated Steve, as Maria stepped back and Wanda rushed over. She wrapped her arms around you then happily bounced in place as you both giggled. She was literally vibrating with excitement. And lastly Nat walked over and hugged tightly. Then the friends all switched, the girls congratulating Steve, and the guys all hugging and congratulating you.

Bucky was the last one, he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around, before lowering you back to the ground and whispering, “Thank you for making him the happiest man alive.” Then he pulled back and looked over at Nat for a second, before turning back to you. “Or, at least the second happiest,” he smirked.

You burst out laughing, “No thank you needed, he makes me just as happy.”

You looked passed Bucky to see Steve watching you, lovingly. You stepped around Buck and wrapped your arms around Steves waist, tucked under one of his strong arms. You looked up at him and smiled, as he just smiled back then he looked towards all your friends, “I think a celebration is in order.”

“Fuck yeah!” Most of them said in unison.

And in this moment you realized this was exactly where you were meant to be. That everything, good and bad, that had happened in your life had been worth it. As it had led you to this exact place. To where you truly belonged. Around these amazing people you now called your family, and tucked under the arm of this amazing man, you now called your fiancé.

You were safe. You were secure. You were loved. And from this day on, you always would be. Because you were his, and he was yours. Forever.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

@hopefulmoonobject @harlequinash @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills

[wintersxsoul]

You Saw Me (13)

Summary: You have the life you’d always dreamt of. The job of your dreams, the perfect boyfriend and the best group of friends. But what happens when that life is not enough and your soulmate is not who you thought it would be?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Don’t hate me for just posting filler chapters every two red moons. I love you.

A/N: My lovely @all1e23 is the beta for this series so give her some love because she has to put up with my infinite bullshit because my brain was fried. A reblog and comment are always appreciated and what feeds my soul to keep writing. I hope you enjoy this as much as I am. Taglist is CLOSED.

“You’ve changed. I like it.” Sam said with pride because he knew something had been suffocating you for a long time, but now you seemed...freed. Since you returned everything was settling down step by step, the relationships returned to be what they were, except Bucky.

The night you arrived, the first person your body was aching to see was Bucky and led by instinct, you showed up where he was. You knew you needed to see him, to feel him as much as he did. You spent hours talking to each other, about what you had missed from the other and about your future. You both came to the conclusion that it was better to start over as acquaintances, in order to rebuild the trust you had. It was hard the first weeks, not being able to text him or see him, but it was worth it.

“I’m glad I changed, I was drowning without noticing, Sammy.” He nodded knowingly and handed you your beer. Normally, Sam liked to go to your place since he liked it more than his own, but this time he insisted in you coming over.

“So, how’s the Met?”

“Big, busy, full of art and people, but I love it. I really do. I miss my students sometimes and my coworkers are not as cool as Nat, but I feel like myself.” You smiled to yourself and looked out of the window, the sunset tinting Brooklyn in warm tones of pink, orange and yellow. As beautiful as Chicago was, nothing felt like being back at home with the people you loved the most.

“How is being a writer going though? When will I read one of your poetry books Sammy?”

“Oh about that.I’m happy to announce that Three Winters will be published real soon. I made it!” You jumped off the couch with a loud Oh My God Sammy! and proceeded to hug him and saying something about buying a thousand copies for him to sign so you could sell them on Ebay.

“We should celebrate and I recall you mentioning that tomorrow is your day off, so there’s no excuse.” You nodded, a sudden fear clouding your mind. You knew celebrating meant meeting the whole group at the usual bar. It’s not that you weren’t excited to see everyone gathered again, it was the fear of seeing Bucky after almost a month of radio silence. You knew it was a stupid thought, but what if he didn’t miss you as much as you missed him?

He told you he would wait for you and the night you came back, he told you again.

“Is there something wrong?” You shook your head and smiled nervously, something Sam decided to ignore. If you had to share something, you would. He knew he couldn’t force you to say whatever was on your mind, he knew how stubborn you were. At that exact moment, you received a text from Nat, your fear only increasing.

 Emergency meeting, now. Urgent matter. I’m at yours in 10 minutes.

 You showed Sam the text and both of you ran to his car, concerned that something bad could have happened since Nat was not someone to ask for help so openly.

Ten minutes later, you both were climbing the stairs of your block two by two, breathless and worried.

“Nat?!” You called right after opening the front door, she had a key so she could be anywhere in the apartment.

“Here.” You heard her from the living room, her voice like a phantom. You threw everything on the floor and ran to her, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw her face. She was crying, all her mascara smudged and mixed with her tears. She had an expression you had never seen on her before, and that scared you. Sam was behind you, silent, studying the situation from afar. You approached Nat and kneeled in front of her, placing both of your palms on her cheeks. She looked at you with her big green eyes and you understood. You understood because you had seen that same expression a million times on a different face.

“Wanna tell me about it?” You asked carefully, your voice low so only she could hear it, although Sam went to the kitchen to make himself busy.

“He...He’s gone, Y/n.” Nat smiled, placing her hand on her heart, trying to make you understand what she meant.

“Who’s gone, Nat?” She closed her eyes and sighed, opening them again slowly.

“Buck. She erased him.” You suddenly understood. You understood why she was so closed to love all these years back, why she looked at Bucky the way she did. She never got over him, she still loved him until now.

“Where is it?” You both knew what you meant, so she reached for the hem of her dress and slide it up so you could see. Today’s date was etched on her skin, just a palm from her knee. White numbers.

“She’s the aunt of one of my students at the studio. Her name is Maria.” She shook her head, like she couldn’t believe this happened to her. “I’m finally free, he is gone.” She started to cry again, letting out years of hidden feelings and pining that now were gone.

“I want you to know, I didn’t do it because of my feelings towards him. I knew it could never happen, that is why I was the one to end it. I don’t know why I did it, but it wasn't for him. I swear, it was not.” You placed your hand on hers and intertwined your fingers, squeezing reassuringly.

“Nat, I know. It’s okay, you're okay. We are okay.” Nat lowered her head until your foreheads touched and she smiled, relief washing over her.

“I love you in case I die.” You let out a giggle and kissed the tip of her nose.

“Me too, but you really need to stop quoting Girl Boss, it’s been almost two years.” She smiled widely and pulled back, shrugging.

“What can I say, I’m just a hopeless romantic.”

“Wow, that is something I would’ve never thought I’d hear from you.”

“Hey Sammy, when did you get here?” Nat stood up and hugged him, her body relaxing after Sam’s hug.

“Since she came, so I heard everything, sorry. Now I know you are not dead inside.” Nat elbowed him jokingly and rolled her eyes.

“You will never get over that night, won’t you?” Sam shook his head, the three of you laughing. They both had a wild night back in college and Sam asked out on a date, but she of course refused cause they were friends.

“Now, should we go out and celebrate with the boys all these good news?” Nat asked, wiping off her smudged mascara and fixing her hair. It was infuriating how fucking fabulous she always looked and so effortlessly.

You sighed and nodded, Nat understanding immediately. “It will do you two good to see each other. Just as friends. He needs you and you need him. Baby steps, love. Baby steps.”

[ao3feed-joenicky]

by Rlillies

Maria decided it would be a good idea to take her mother to France for her 50th birthday, somewhere she has always wanted to go and see in person. She knew the trip was going to be expensive but she also knew she was going to have unforgettable moments. What she didn't know was that she was going to see her dead ex-girlfriend

Words: 765, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Original Female Character(s), Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Quynh | Noriko, Nile Freeman's Brother

Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, past Nile Freeman/Orginal Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Outsiders point of view, nile is bisexual and you can tear that from my cold dead hands, i call booker a depressed rat because i love him, this is about 10 years in the future, Post-Movie: The Old Guard (2020), no beta we die like the old guard