#I have only had isabel for one day and unfortunately EVERYTHING BAD happened to her
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Please don’t go out with someone else.
Synopsis: How did squad leader mom met the captain and how they got together.
MASTERLIST; ASK (request or anything else)
Your brother and Wylan, your childhood friend, always wanted to join the training corps. As you were only a year younger than them, you grew up with them constantly talking about joining the military – naturally, you wanted to join the military too. Your parents tried to talk the three of you out of this, but it was useless. Wylan always wanted to see what was outside the walls, therefore he knew he wanted to join the survey corps. Your brother tried to talk him out of this, but Wylan was stubborn.
When you finally reached the appropriate age to join the survey corps, you were beyond excited. Your brother and Wylan both waited another year so you could all join together.
“This is going to be so fun!” Wylan shouted the first day.
Out of the three of you, your brother was the best one – he was a great fighter, he was great with the gear and he was very obedient as well. Wylan was doing great – nothing exceptional but he could easily make into the top ten.
“At this rate, I’m sure the three of us will end up in the top ten and you know what that means?” your brother asked, “we could all move inside of wall Sina, and have a nice and peaceful life.”
“I don’t want to be part of the military police.” Wylan stated, “I’m joining the survey corps, no matter what happens.”
“Why would you do this?” your brother yelled. “Wylan, I didn’t want to bring this up but your parents –.”
“Yes, I know what happened to them.” Wylan argued. “I know they sacrificed themselves outside, they were both soldiers and having a kid was clearly a bad choice. That doesn’t mean I won’t join the survey corps too.” Wylan paused a second, “You think I’m stupid for wanting this.”
“No. It’s just that I want to grow old with you beside me.” your brother admitted. “And with you being in the survey corps, that won’t be possible.”
“I could visit –.” Wylan started.
“That won’t be possible because you might die outside!” your brother then looked at you, “you’re coming with me, right?”
“I might no be able to do that. None of us will if we’re not in the top ten.” you hesitated.
That night, before going to bed, Jesper, your brother, pulled you on the side so he could talk to you alone.
“Don’t mess up with tests tomorrow.” he told you.
“What?”
“I know you’re capable of doing the bare minimum, so you won’t have to choose. If you want to join the survey corps too, I…” he took a deep breath, “please take care of Wylan for me.”
“You could come with us.” you suggested. “You’re amazing, better than anyone else here, so why don’t you want to?”
“I don’t want to. I don’t want to know what it feels like to be in front of a titan and knowing that they’ll eat me when I can be safe inside.” Jesper worried.
“Please go talk to Wylan, I don’t want you two to fight. You’re both choosing different paths and you know, it’s ok.”
“Yeah. I should apologise.”
“Also, I will try my best to keep him safe outside.”
“Thank you.” Jesper smiled before leaving.
Without surprise, Jesper ended up being ranked first while you were third and Wylan fourth. Amongst the top ten, there was only you and Wylan who did not choose the military police. Before leaving, Jesper came to see you both to tell you goodbye.
“I’m going to miss you.” Wylan told Jesper.
“I’m going to miss you too.” Jesper held Wylan’s hand tightly.
“Great,” you added smiling, “I mean, great to know I’ll be missed too.”
“I’m going to miss you too.” your brother smiled before hugging you.
“Yeah, anyway I’ll leave first because I feel like a third wheel here. I’ll see you later.”
When you finally arrived at the survey corps headquarters, you had a few hours to clean your clothes into your dorm before meeting everyone else on the training grounds to meet your future squad leader. You were beyond relieved when you found out Wylan and you were in the same squad because making friends was not your specialty.
“Hi, I’m Erwin. I’m your squad leader.”
“You’re really young.” you commented which resulted in Wylan punching you softly.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Wylan apologised.
“No, it’s fine. I worked hard for this post and I am proud of it.”
Later that day, you both met Hange.
“Really nice to meet you. I heard you two ranked top ten.” Hange said. “You won’t regret your choice, I’m sure it’ll be fun!”
“I’m Wylan, and this is Y/N.”
That night, you all drank and ate together – that is how you became friend with Hange, Mike, Erwin – your squad leader – and many other comrades.
Your first expedition took place a month after your arrival – it started great. There were only a few titans. Unfortunately, after a few days, it started to rain. At first, it was fine but when it turned out to be an enormous storm – it started to worry everyone.
The order was to stay close to each other so no one would get lost. When the storm finally calmed down – you looked around and noticed a lot of missing people.
“Where – Where’s Wylan?” you asked loudly.
“Y/N,” Erwin held you back, “he might be with another squad somewhere else.”
“No,” you mumbled panicked, “he – he was just behind me. He should be here too!”
You walked away and sat down somewhere calm, hoping for Wylan to show up. The remaining squads arrived one after the another, each one missing some of their soldiers.
“Y/N, the commander arrived,” Hange said quietly, “let’s go.”
The expedition just started which meant that it had to continue. A few hours passed, and as you followed Erwin on your horse you noticed a few bodies sitting under a tree on your left.
“Squad leader Erwin,” you hesitated, “look.” you pointed at where the bodies were.
Erwin and the rest of the squad run to them. You pushed them aside when you saw Wylan was one of the injured soldiers.
“Wylan!” you sobbed, “Hey, it’s me.”
“Hey.” Wylan choked, “I’m… glad… you’re alive.”
“You are too.” you cried.
“I’m sor–.”
“No, it’s ok, we’re going to be fine.” you tried to hold your tears back.
“Tell him… I love him…” Wylan took a deep breath, “ok?”
“Ok. I’m sure he knows and that he loves you very much too.”
“Good.” Wylan smiled weakly, “thank you… for coming back...”
You stayed with Wylan until he passed away – then, the soldiers’ bodies were all put in the cart and as the cart went back inside the walls, you had to continue.
When the expedition finally ended, you headed straight to Wylan dorm so you could clean his clothes and other belongings. You sent a letter to your family and Jesper so they could come for the funeral the survey corps organised for all the loses.
“I’m so sorry.” you cried when you saw Jesper again. “When I – he was…”
“It’s ok.” Jesper hugged you. “It’s ok.” he repeated.
Your parents brought flowers with them – in front of Wylan tomb, there were only the four of you.
“I’m going to bring his things.” you said, “can you guys help me?” you asked your parents so Jesper could have some privacy with Wylan.
You had put everything in a small bag, except for Wylan cloak which you decided to keep. Everything else was giving to Jesper. Before leaving, Jesper spent some time with you in your empty dorm.
“Did you… did he said anything before…”
“He told me to tell you that he loves you.” you whispered.
You both stayed together, in complete silence before he got up and had to leave. You reluctantly walked to the mess hall for dinner and sat with Hange. They smiled at you and you both ate in silence too – no one really wanted to talk.
Years went by and at the age of twenty-four, you became a squad leader. Hange had been promoted a few years before you – everything was going great. Then, one day, Erwin brought in three new recruits from the Underground. After commander Shadis put them in Flagon’s squad, you left with Hange et Erwin.
“What did you do?” you asked Erwin once you three were alone. “Why would you bring three thugs from the underground here?”
“They could be an asset to the survey corps. You should go and see them fight.”
“They have zero experience; they had no training. Just look at how disrespectful they are!”
“They are better than some of us at using the gear with no training.” Erwin corrected you.
“We’ll pay them a visit later.” Hange said.
“Great.” Erwin smiled before leaving.
“I don’t want to.” you told Hange.
“Oh, come on, please come with me!”
On their first day of training, you and Hange joined Flagon. You were all talking waiting for them to arrive, but after ten minutes of waiting, you volunteered to go and look for them. The first place you went for was the changing room with all the gear you used.
“You’re late.” you stated when you saw Isabel still with her gear undone.
“Sorry.”
“Well, hurry. Also, where are your two other friends?” you asked, “doesn’t matter, I’ll go look for them.”
“Wait.” Isabel stopped you, “This gear is a little different from what we used. I don’t know how to put it on correctly, no one told me.”
You turned around and slowly walked to her and explained to her how to put it on easily and quickly. When Isabel was done, you both walked out, and her friends were waiting for her outside.
“Next time try to be on time.” you told them when you walked out.
“Sorry miss.” Furlan apologised.
“It’s squad leader Y/N.” you corrected him harshly.
When you joined Flagon, he was fuming – screaming that they were irresponsible for making him wait that long and that they should just go back to where they came. When they started to kill the wooden titans, you were all speechless.
“Oh my!” you shouted impressed, “Erwin was right.”
“I wouldn’t have mind having them with me.” Hange stated impressed as well. “Flagon, you’re lucky as hell.”
Flagon ignored you and left to talk to them while you and Hange were talking about how good they were.
“Levi’s the most impressive right?” Hange said.
“Hell yeah!” you agreed. “Now I just want to see them in front of real titans. Act cool.” you told Hange when you saw them coming back.
“You were awesome!” Hange shouted, “Even more because you didn’t receive any training. Right Y/N.”
“You were great, yeah.” you commented calmly.
The next expedition was announced a few days later – it would take place in a month and half. Isabel and you became quite close since you were in charge of teaching them how to ride the horses – Flagon traded with you. While you would do his work, he will do some of your paperwork.
Furlan was polite and nice – he was making a lot of effort to blend in like Isabel. The only one who did not try was Levi. You tried to talk to him multiple times, but he would never answer you.
“Oh right,” you said before they would leave, “this weekend you’re allowed to leave the headquarters so you can visit family or just walk around the market. If you don’t want to leave, I can bring things for you if you’d like.”
“Can you bring back some of the cake you had last time?” Isabel asked referring to the cake your mom had baked.
“I’d like that too.” Furlan smiled.
“Sure, I’ll send a letter to my mom. What about you Levi?”
“Bring me some tea. And not the one you have here because it’s disgusting.” Levi said.
“Tea? Ok, I can do that.” you smiled, “you know it’s the first time you ever said anything to me.” you laughed before leaving.
You went back to your room to write your letter asking your mother to bake some cake and gather some tea leaves. While you were in your room, the trio went to their usual spot in the roof.
“I like Y/N,” Isabel started, “she’s nice.”
“Weirdly nice to us,” Levi said, “you didn’t tell her anything right?”
“I didn’t!”
“I don’t understand why she is that nice though.” Furlan added. “She didn’t seem to like us at first.”
“She changed her mind, she got to know us better –.” Isabel defended you.
“We’re leaving soon so it doesn’t matter.” Levi said.
Two years ago, your parents had the chance to move inside of wall Sina thanks to their business growing. You left Friday night to your parent’s house. Jesper was the one who came to take you home.
Saturday morning, Levi found it odd that you were with them – because you would always greet them in the morning. They did not know that you left earlier the day before. Hange and Erwin noticed how Levi was looking around and staring at every new person entering the mess hall.
“You should go and tell him that she’s not here.” Hange told Erwin.
“You go.” Erwin said.
“Fine.” Hange went to their table. “Hi. I noticed how you were looking for Y/N… I think.” Hange told Levi.
“I wasn’t.”
“Oh, then never mind.”
“But now that you’re here, where is she?” Levi asked.
“She went home last night. She’ll be back in three days. No need to worry.”
“I wasn’t.”
Levi hated himself for missing you – he tried to convince himself that he wanted to see you because you promised him tea, but deep down, he missed your calm and joyful presence. You had a lot of baskets full of food your mother prepared which meant your brother had to come and help with it.
“Where is there a short man glaring at me like that?” Jesper told when you left the carriage.
“What?” you asked him confused.
Jesper discreetly nodded towards Levi.
“I don’t know.” you said.
“Well, I’m leaving you here.” Jesper said going back into the carriage. “You’re good, right?”
“Yes, I’ll see you soon, bye!” you hugged him one last time before he left.
There were in total five big baskets of food – you tried to take them all at once for more efficiency, but it was a failure. Levi from behind took three of them seeing you struggling.
“Thank you.” you smiled, “we should just put them in my room.”
You walked in silence to your room and once Levi put everything on your desk – he started to leave but you stopped him by grabbing his sleeve.
“You forgot your tea.” you let go of his sleeve. “Oh, I also brought you this tea set, because the one we have here is really old.” you explained as you gave him an entire basket. “There’s also Furlan and Isabel’s food in there.”
“Thank you.” Levi whispered before leaving.
Two days after you came back, Levi stormed in your room at night as you were ready to go to bed. When Levi saw you in a simple tee shirt and some short, he immediately left your room. You slowly opened your door only to find Levi still outside of your room.
“Are you ok?” you asked worried.
“Yes.” Levi blushed slightly. “Your mother, I don’t know how she organised her tea. I need your help.”
“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “let’s go then.” you closed your door.
“Are you not going to put on more clothes?” Levi asked you, “because it’s cold.”
When you noticed how Levi still would not look into your eyes, you decided it would be better to put on a long jacket.
You followed him to the kitchen, where he had prepared two cups and some water and every tea flavour your mother had packed.
“Each colour of bags represents a flavour,” you explained, “Mh, I thought she wrote on it which flavour it was, but I think with time she just stopped writing it – because she knew. What flavour you want to drink now?”
“You choose.”
“I like green tea, but it’s late in the night now so we should try something else. Like chamomile.” you thought.
Levi poured hot water into the teapot and you waited five minutes before pouring some into the cups. You sat in front of each other at the nearest table to the kitchen and drank in silence.
“Why are you staring at me?” Levi asked drinking his tea.
“I always like to look at pretty flowers and pretty things in general,” you said which made Levi raise his eyebrows, “that’s why I was staring at you.” you completed your sentence smiling.
Levi felt his cheeks getting hotter – he was speechless. No one ever before complimented him, ever so that was new. Meaning, he did not know how to answer.
“Are you okay?” you asked him, “you’re really red. Oh no, is it because of the tea?” you reached out your hands to touch his face. “Are you having a fever?” you worried.
“No, I’m fine.” Levi took your hands and put them on the table but did not let go of them. “Your hands are soft.” Levi said.
“Your hands are warm.” you smiled squeezing his hands softly.
You were both looking at each other when suddenly the door opened on Isabel and Furlan which made Levi back away from you.
“Oh, sorry.” Isabel said, “did we interrupt something?”
“No.” Levi said. “I’ll meet you in ten minutes.”
“Ok.” Furlan left with Isabel.
“You can go, I’ll clean this up.” Levi started to gather the cups and teapot.
“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Neither you nor Levi slept that night – it was not unusual for Levi, but for you it was. You could not stop thinking about what happened before Isabel and Furlan came in and neither could Levi.
After that, Levi would often make small talk with you when you were alone. He would often call you to drink tea with him before you went to bed. Then, a few days before their first expedition, Levi started to avoid you more and more which you did not find odd – it might be stress about the expedition. You were busy with your squad and paperwork. The day of the expedition, you went to see Levi because it had been a while.
“I’ll probably see you during the expedition though, but I wanted to see you before leaving. Good luck out there even though I know you don’t need it.”
Your squad was next to Hange’s and the expedition started. The few years after Wylan’s passing, every time it rained during an expedition you would start to panic and not be as useful as you would usually be. Surprisingly, the survey corps never experienced another storm during an expedition – it always happened before or after it. Therefore, when it started to rain heavily you started to be worried.
“Y/N,” Hange called you, “it’s ok.”
“Yeah.” you whispered, “no one walk away from me.” you ordered to your squad.
As the storm started, Hange’s squad and yours took shelter on high trees leaving your horses under you.
“Are you ok?” Hange asked you.
“Yes. It’s going to calm down soon, and it’ll be good.”
When the storm calmed down, Erwin’s squad passed on your way, so you joined them. After assuring him that no one was injured, you continued to ride on your horse. Erwin, Hange and you were leading the way, but very soon you stopped when you noticed all the blood on the ground.
“Wha – what happened?” you trembled. “Wh – who’s squad…” you got off your horse.
“That’s… the steam from the fallen titans.” Erwin said. “Are there any survivors out there?” Erwin yelled.
When you all approached the steam, you found Levi on his knees next to someone’s head which made you look away.
“Are you the only one left?” Erwin asked, “The corpses of these titans… you did this alone…?”
Levi stared at Erwin before tackling Erwin down of his horse. Mike, Hange and you took out your blades ready to defend Erwin, but he ordered us to stay back. Levi put his blade next to Erwin’s neck before speaking.
“Erwin, I’m going to kill you, you bastard. That’s why I’m here.”
Erwin showed Levi the envelope he kept on him and explained to him what happened.
“Why did you bring us into the corps?”
“Your military prowess…” Erwin started, “And to use you as partners to throw off Lovof…but now, it’s all over.”
Levi pushed on his blade, but Erwin stopped it with his hand.
“Who’s the one that killed my subordinates, your friends. Was it me? Was it you? Do you think that if you had come to attack me together that the two of them would have made it out alive?” Erwin asked, “No! It was the titans!”
Everyone else listened to Erwin’s speech including Levi.
“Fight with the survey corps Levi. Humanity needs your skill!”
The end of that expedition came sooner than you thought. You made sure that your squad members were doing ok then you went back to your room to clean up. You made sure to write a letter to your brother first so he would know that you were still alive and then you decided to go check on Levi.
“Levi?” you knocked on his door, but no one answered. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”
For the next few days, Levi rarely went out of his room. Furlan and him were the only ones sleeping there – meaning no one could bother him. A week after the end of the expedition, Levi came to your room one night.
“Levi.” you put your book down.
“You said… I could talk to you.”
“Of course, you can.” you sat on your bed. “I’m sorry for your loss.” you added as you saw Levi pacing around your room.
“I can’t…I don’t know what to do.” Levi sat next to you. “Whenever someone knocks on my door, I keep hoping it would be one of them.”
“I know…” you paused, “after that, you’ll feel anger.” you hesitated, “Then comes the guilt, thinking what if I was quicker or what if I made a different choice… maybe I could’ve helped. After that, you’ll feel sad. Eventually, it won’t hurt as much as it used to, to talk about them. It’ll get better.”
“How do you know it will get better?”
“It is terrible, but this probably won’t be your last loss. And I –… I lost my best friend a long time ago. It was our first expedition too…”
Levi and you were lying on your bed in silence.
“I can’t sleep.” Levi admitted. “It’s getting lonely in that room.”
“I can stay with you if you want.” you yawned.
“Sorry, I’m keeping you from sleeping – I’ll go.” Levi stood up but you held his hand.
“You can stay here. I don’t mind.” you looked at Levi.
You moved on the inner side of your bed so Levi could lay next to you. Levi did not let go of your hand when he laid down on your bed.
“Goodnight Levi.” you said before falling asleep very quickly.
“Goodnight Y/N.” Levi whispered looking at you.
Levi found himself getting sleepier and when he closed his eyes – for the first time in a long time – he fell asleep without any difficulty. In the middle of the night, you woke up feeling thirsty and noticed that Levi was sleeping. He was still holding your hand which made it impossible for you to get up.
You always have a glass of water ready next to your bed, but you were on the wrong side of the bed. You got up and tried not to wake Levi up or letting go of his hand and drank your water. When you went back to bed, Levi finally let go of your hand and turned on his side – his back against you. You took a deep breath before wrapping your arms around Levi.
Levi was the first one to wake up. You were clinging tightly around Levi which made it impossible for him to move without waking you up.
“Mh, morning.” you mumbled when you woke up.
“Morning.”
“Did you sleep well?” you asked still holding onto Levi.
“Yes, thanks to you.”
“We could do this every night…” you said. “if you want, because…” your cheeks started to heat up.
“Yeah.” Levi breathed.
After a few minutes of staying in bed, you both got up and brushed your teeth and changed into new clothes. You arrived together in the mess hall and when you saw Levi going to eat alone, you held his shirt back.
“Come eat with us.” you pointed at your usual table with Hange, Mike and Erwin.
“No, it’s fine.”
“They don’t mind.” you looked at your friends, “right?”
“We don’t.” Erwin smiled.
You sat next to Levi and while he ate in silence, you were chatting with everyone. Your friends noticed how Levi and you became a lot closer since that day:
- Levi would often finish eating first, instead of leaving he waited for you to finish eating.
- You would always come in together in the morning.
- You would always leave together at night.
- According to Mike, Levi smelled like you – logic since he slept in your room with you.
“Are they together?” Hange once asked.
“They have to be.” Nanaba said. “Right?”
“Should we ask them?” Hange said.
“You ask them.” Mike suggested.
“No thanks. Oh, here they come,” Hange said, “act natural.”
Everyone suspected you two to be together, but neither Levi nor you said anything about it. Levi and you both had feelings for each other, but no one was brave enough to make the first step. You acted like a couple without really being one.
Two months after this, Jesper paid you a visit which made Levi confused. He did not know Jesper was your brother meaning he thought you were going on a date with someone. At night when you came back, Levi took you to your room.
“I like you.” Levi suddenly admitted. “Please don’t go out with someone else.”
“I – I like you too. A lot.” you smiled.
“So… who was that man?”
“Jesper? He’s my brother!”
“Oh.” Levi looked away embarrassed.
“So, are we a couple now?”
“I’d like that.”
“Me too.”
—————
Bonus about how people found out about it — Hange saw your two like this:
#attack on titan x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader#squad leader mom au#levi ackerman#levi ackerman fluff#levi fluff#erwin smith#hange zoë#levi ackerman x you#attack on titan fluff#aot x reader#snk x reader#attack on titan#snk#aot
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Hi! Can i request for a short fic abt this? Thanks! I think u would nailed it!!! 💓
hange: i can't believe we're stuck in this room together!
levi, quickly kicking the key under the door: truly unfortunate
levi knew that the door to this closet was broken. he knew that one, small, weak gast of wind was all it would take to get it shut, locking the unfortunates who forgot about precautions inside.
he knew all that, and when hange asked him to help bring a box out of that closet, he agreed without hesitation.
because farlan had said: "you have to create a moment."
and isabel added: "you need to confess to hange before someone else beats you to it!"
and erwin had adviced that "close proximity enhances romantic feelings."
and because levi wasn't a tactical genius like erwin, smartass like farlan and not even a romantic like isabel, he had to work with that he had.
and what he had was a dirty closet, covered in cobwebs and dust.
unsurprisingly, hange didn't enjoy the prospect of being stuck in a closet until someone passes through and rescues them.
as he watched four-eyes rage like a bull, banging on the door and screaming until her throat was raw, he contemplated if he should just abort the plan and kick the door down.
"you should never give up!" farlan's voice sounded in his head.
"proceed with courage and you'll be rewarded," erwin's voice joined him.
"you'll never get laid if you continue being such a lame-ass coward," isabel taunted him.
levi decided to stick to the plan until the end. the worst that could happen is that hange would tear him to pieces in a feat of rage.
not the worst way to go, levi thought wistfully.
isabel in his head gagged. erwin and farlan gave him the same disgusted expressions.
levi paid them no mind. maybe, he did have it bad for hange, and, maybe, the extent of his feelings for the four-eyed idiot was making him feel like a pathetic softhearted moron, but there was nothing he could do about it now. he tried many times, after all.
almost half an hour later, hange had finally calmed down. she plopped down on the floor next to him, panting heavily.
"we're stuck in here, levi," she declared mournfully.
"yeah," said levi, who could easily broke down that door. "it seems like we are."
"well, don't you worry!" hange gave him an encouraging smile. at the sight of it, butterflies fluttered somewhere deep in his stomach. "moblit would notice my absence and he'll get us out in no time."
if berner does it before something happens between him and hange - a confession or, even better, a kiss - he would break his nose. levi was going to confess, and he was going to do it today.
"we have nothing better to do..." levi said. "it's quite boring in here, we could talk or something. to pass the time, you know."
as soon as he finished, levi turned his face, cringing hard. he sounded like a fucking moron, he sounded like kirshtein every time he tried to talk to mikasa.
there was no way that hange would ever return the affections of a pathetic idiot like him.
"talk?" hange echoed. "yeah, let's do that! i love talking!"
levi knew that. hange liked talking, and she liked walking through the gardens in spring. she liked coffee with milk and three sugars, she liked sandwiches with fresh tomatoes and taking naps in the most random times of the day.
"what could we talk about, though...." hange tapped her chin with a finger, staring at the ceiling.
"we could talk about our feelings..." levi tentatively offered.
farlan and erwin in his head nodded in approval. isabel smiled and gave him thumbs up.
"feelings? hm, i have a lot of them..."
yeah, levi knew. hange had a lot of feelings about absolutely everything she came across. it was annoying and sometimes draining. but also, kind of endearing and amazing.
"you know, just recently i've been conducting this experiment, and it made me feel like i've never had before..."
and before he could stop her, before he could clarify that he wanted to talk about his feelings, hange's face lighted up.
levi groaned, it could only mean one thing - she was getting ready to discuss her stupid, but very important work.
levi knew hange, he knew there was no stopping her now.
and because he really was a pathetic softie, he tried his best to listen and make sense of her ramblings. hange jumped from topic to topic, gesticulating wildly. and, despite, his best efforts levi started to feel sleepy.
he leaned against the wall, taking a more comfortable position and moving just a bit closer to hange.
"mission had failed," erwin admitted sorrowfully.
"better luck next time," farlan added.
"enjoy the nap next to your crush. that's the most action you will get," isabel mercifully teased.
levi closed his eyes, hange's excited voice lulling him to sleep better than any lullaby.
____
when levi woke up, the door to the closet was open and he was all alone.
hange was gone, and in her place lay a crumpled piece of paper. levi picked up, trying to decipher hange's godawful writing.
as soon as he did, his eyes widened and a curse escaped his lips.
sorry for leaving! moblit came to the rescue, just like i predicted, but you looked so cute while sleeping, i didn't have the heart to wake you up.
also, just a friendly advice: if you want to confess your undying love to me, shorty, pick a better place than a closet. i have standards too, you know.
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Let's Analyze - Alec in CoFA
So, I’ve been seeing plenty of discourse on two of my mutual’s blogs about this topic… so I thought I’d sit down and write another analysis post about my beloved Alec Lightwood cause people are still giving him shit for a book that came out ten years ago 🤦♀️
This is gonna be in two parts, and I'm putting both under the cut:
PART 1 - ALEC’S INSECURITIES
So, the first part - how Alec’s insecurities drove him to saying stupid things in CoFA
A quick disclaimer - I’m NOT blaming Alec alone for his and Magnus’s break up. What happened was pretty complicated, and the blame cannot be put on one person alone.
That said, let’s start with Magnus and Alec’s early ‘official’ relationship, in trsom.
These scenes are taken from only the first part of the book, but I’m pretty sure they’re more than enough to get a sense of Alec’s insecurities and all the chinks in their relationship. Throughout the entirety of trsom, we see more bits and pieces of Alec’s insecurities about Magnus’s sexuality, and his past and all the people he might have known - and that’s okay! Insecurities happen, cause brains are stupid like that.
But all of Alec’s insecurities could’ve been laid to rest with a simple conversation. But the conversation never happens. Magnus tends to deflect and change the topic every single time his past is brought up. I understand Magnus’s reasons for hiding his past, of course, but it doesn’t help his relationship with Alec. Magnus hiding a good chunk of his past will inevitably lead to Alec questioning himself - why is he so secretive? Why is he not telling me anything? Does he not trust me? ...and so on.
And when Alec is already feeling insecure in this relationship, this happens - (sorry about the terrible cropping btw)
And then later, while Magnus is talking to Camille,
Now… when people are insecure about something, they get irked at the smallest of things. I’m saying this as an insecure person myself. So now, you've got Alec, who's insecure as fuck, and his vacation with the person he loves got cut short by his ex who refuses to talk to anyone but him, and when they get there, his lover and his lover's ex seem to have obvious chemistry, he gets hit with the reality that his lover has dated several, probably even hundreds of people before him; and he has to leave them alone in a room so they can talk, and then he hears the ex basically just list all his shortcomings - i.e, his mortality, his appearance is compared to some random dead guy (sorry, Will) whom your lover had a crush on, which is just weird, and when you've had enough and open the door, it's to see your lover and his ex, standing close as fuck, and he's! touching! her! face! and! looking! into! her! eyes!
*takes a sip of water* yeahhhh... Alec was straight up having a bad day.
And at this point, a) Alec is still in his first relationship. He didn't get to navigate romance when he was younger, and while there's nothing wrong with that, there weren't exactly cutesy presentations titled 'how to keep your relationships healthy' floating around the internet. Heck, he didn’t know the internet. He didn't know that he had to communicate with Magnus, and it doesn't help that boy avoids conversations about feelings like the plague. And b) at this point, Alec would be facing several negative emotions - insecurity, obviously. Hurt. Helplessness, because of his mortality. Fear, that he might not live up to Magnus’s past lovers. Jealousy at seeing Magnus and Camille so close.
Negative emotions like these often tend to show up as anger or sorrow... and in Alec’s case, that would be anger. Which leads us to THIS- (🙈)
*sighs in second-hand embarrassment*
*drinks more water*
*this is gonna be so hard aksjakak*
So. Alec dealt with his insecurities... by being a mean, mean bitch to Magnus :/
Let's break this scene down, slowly, bit by bit.
First, Alec cuts into a conversation between Magnus and Jordan, when Magnus mentions Woolsey Scott, followed the rest of that particular page. To Alec, he's just a figure from Magnus’s past, and a possible lover, though in Alec’s defense Woolsey Scott WAS Magnus’s lover. This is the first instance that we see in which Alec lashes out at Magnus. It seems like he's trying to make a point to Magnus - "I don't know anything about your past, and so I don't know who you've had romances with, but I want to know." Except he makes his point in the worst way possible and ends up slutshaming Magnus.
The "What's true?" line, in response to Jordan saying "so it's true what they say about warlocks, then?" is pretty obvious. Alec is clearly not liking the idea that this random werewolf might know about warlocks, and in particular, his Warlock boyfriend.
Next... ooh boy... Alec basically snaps and in the next few paragraphs accuses Magnus of wanting to flirt with others which... is not a good look on ya honey 😕. These lines are the ones that get him accused of being biphobic... but is he really? I'm gonna talk about that in part 2.
So, in the first paragraph, where Alec makes the comments about Jordan, I find his choice of words pretty... interesting, seeing as 'messy-haired', 'broad-shouldered' and 'chiseled-good-looks' are all used to describe Alec in the series. Not sure if its relevant, but definitely interesting.
And in the next one, where Alec says, "or there are plenty of pretty girls here, since apparently your taste goes both ways. Is there anything you aren't into?" The 'apparently' makes me curious. In rsom, Alec mentions that he's only recently heard of the term bisexual, and there's plenty of time between rsom and cofa, so Alec should be absolutely sure of atleast the basic meaning of bisexuality. But I'm pretty sure it's just inconsistency on cc's part, since if rsom didn't exist, this book would be the first time Alec learns about Magnus’s bisexuality. (Which is obvious when you look at the scene after Magnus reveals that Camille is his girlfriend.) And as for the second sentence, I feel like it's a fallback to earlier in the book when Magnus says (I'm just gonna write the dialogue from memory), "I've dated men, women, warlocks, faeries, vampires, werewolves and even a djinn or two." Here, Alec is angry, and he takes the knowledge that Magnus has dated a variety of people and once again, lashes out.
Looking at all of it together, Alec’s insecurities are definitely a factor in all of this. We know Alec has pretty low self esteem in tmi, and he keeps having irrational thoughts about someone else grabbing Magnus’s attention, like in the trsom scene I've posted above. And he ends up taking out his insecurities on Magnus.
Was it wrong of Alec to say all those things to Magnus? Yes, absolutely. But looking back through all his scenes in cofa, it's easy to see how he could've fallen into the pit trap of emotions.
And before anyone says "but it wasn't addressed in the later books", it was, in CoLS. I’ve hit the image limit, so I'm just gonna type it out -
"[Magnus] said it would be better if he didn’t come. Apparently him and the Seelie Queen have some kind of history."
Isabelle raised her eyebrows.
"Not that kind of history," Alec said irritably. "Some kind of feud. Though," he added, half under his breath, "the way he got around before me, I wouldn't be surprised."
"Alec!" Isabelle dropped back to talk to her brother....
So, there. Alec makes yet another slutshaming comment, Isabelle overhears and is clearly not happy about it, and it's clearly implied that she talks to Alec about it. And Alec doesn't make any more slutshaming comments since then. Boy now knows what he did was wrong, and makes sure not to repeat it again.
Although, I do wish we had more than this. I wish we had more of Magnus and Alec talking about this argument, heck, even about all their arguments and the reasons they broke up, but you can't get everything you want, apparently :(
And now onto the next part...
PART 2 - IS ALEC BIPHOBIC?
The short answer, uh, no, not really.
The long answer.... would be complicated.
So, back in the day, when this discourse was at an all time high, I remember reading a bisexual person's essay about this topic, and they said that this comment from Alec - "or there are plenty of pretty girls here, since apparently your taste goes both ways. Is there anything you aren't into?" - would be a biphobic microagression.
According to Google, a microagression is "a statement, action, or incident regarded as an instance of indirect, subtle, or unintentional discrimination against members of a marginalized group such as a racial or ethnic minority".
And in Alec's case, IF his words were biphobic, they were completely unintentional. They were microagressive. Which is... still bad, of course, but it's more complicated than that.
If you look back on Alec's supposedly biphobic statements, they're more about Magnus’s hypersexuality and promiscuity than anything else. Yes, even the line i mentioned like two paragraphs ago. At first glance it may seem like a direct attack on Magnus’s sexuality, but think over the explanation I gave for the line and it will make sense. And a lot of people know that the whole 'bi people fuck around a lot and are cheaters' thing is a stereotype.
Now, it may seem like I'm going off topic here, but bear with me. I couple of days ago, I watched this video by chance. (Tw for the aids crisis and lots of biphobia, not from the narrator, if you wanna watch the video). Basically, back in the 1980s, bisexual men were scapegoated for spreading aids to the straight community and were vilified by popular media as being promiscuous scepters who would cheat on their wives with gay men and then give aids to their wives. (Yikes 😬). And since bisexuality was practically unheard of before all this (several bisexual activists have stated that all this shit, though unfortunate, pulled bisexuality out of the closet), it's safe to assume that this is how those stereotypes came to be - through 1980s propaganda.
But living with this propaganda is... a very limiting experience. The people who leaned and unlearned and fought against this propaganda are mostly US Americans who grew up with it, either the actual propaganda itself or passed down by their parents. But like I said, it's a very limiting experience. US is but one country out of many, and even for those living in the USA there's a chance that they grew up in a very hush-hush environment. People who grew up hearing all these stereotypes will see it as biphobia, while people who didn't - like Alec, and me, and several other people will not. A lot of people grow up with absolutely no knowledge of the queer community, and chances are that they'll be incredibly confused when a stereotype is pointed out to them, and they often get no more explanation than 'this is a harmful stereotype'. Queer experiences aren't the same for everyone, and while I respect the people who see this as biphobia, they should recognize that there are many people who won't see it that way.
I have seen bisexual people say that Alec's words were biphobic, and I've also seen bisexual people say that they weren't. Thus, there is no clear consensus about whether or not Alec was being biphobic. And like I said earlier, Alec grew up far, far away from mundane anti-queer bigotry. He was essentially a clean slate when it came to knowledge of eer microagressions of any kind, because microagressions and stereotypes are often incredibly specific, don't have anything to do with a person's race/sexuality/gender, etc. and will make zero sense unless you know the history behind them. To Magnus, who lived through the anti-bisexual scapegoating, the words would've definitely stung, but Alec didn't even know the implications he would be making with this words! Of course, the impact is greater than intention, and I imagine Magnus would sit Alec down one day and talk about all this history with him.
And idk if I can even blame cc cause the history of bisexual men is RARELY ever talked about, atleast on the internet.
Also, this scene in cofa is the only instance where he can be interpreted to be biphobic. Nowhere else in all of tmi, and even tec, do we see Alec express hatred or disgust or microagression towards bisexual people. If this was seen in a repeating pattern from Alec, one could argue that he's biphobic... but he isn't. Some might point to some of his internal thoughts in trsom to argue otherwise, but I believe that actions are superior than thoughts.
There's also the thing about unlearning prejudices, but in Alec's case there was hardly anything to be unlearned. The only prejudices he did pick up on were against himself, through vague homophobic comments from Robert.
P.S if you've read this far, I am legally entitled to compensation for thinking of cofa Alec for 48 hours. Put your favorite Alec moments in my askbox cause I wanna focus on his good side now. 😎
But yeah, the main thing here is that Alec has grown from his mistakes, apologized, and hasn't repeated this behavior at all.
And lastly, I just wanted to add - I don't think all this was unintentional on the author's part. She's grown up with the us American queer community, and has mentioned that she has bisexual friends, who have no doubt faced prejudices because of these stereotypes. I think she was trying to condemn making such statements, but a lot of people don't read between the lines and end up misinterpreting it and make both the character and her to be biphobic.
So... TLDR; was what Alec said biphobic? Maybe. It depends on who you're talking to. Is Alec, as a person, biphobic? Nope. Not at all. 😌
#this took WAYYYYY too long#im gonna go lay down for a while now#peace out#alec lightwood#magnus bane#malec#tmi#tec#tsc#meta#tsc meta#discourse#idk what else to tag hnnnng#i just hope i did this topic justice aksjakaksk#also idk what person needs to hear this#but im a bisexual person talking about bisexual issues#im not the authority on this obviously but if anyone pulls the 'i don't like this post so imma pull the OP is a straight person card'#imma SLAP you#😤😤😤#laks analyses
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The Silence In Between
Jaeger Pilot!Levi Ackerman X Engineer!Reader
Part One
A/N: I know what I said about the writing thing, but this just happened over time and I finally finished it. - Nemo
Warning(s): Injuries. Character Death. *sighs* Drfiting.
Summary:
Listening to: ‘When We Were Young’ by Take That - ‘We were drawn to whoever could keep us together and bound by the heavens above’
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
The Drift wasn’t something to be taken lightly. As years passed, Levi was the one person who knew about that the most.
From his first three-pilot Jaeger, to the one he piloted with Hange - and everything in between - he’d been through so many co-pilots that he used to think his time was coming soon. It had to be. He was too tired for it to not be.
It had been a week since he sparred with (y/n), and things were going as smoothly between the two as it had before the intense training session. But it still didn’t explain the weird feeling in his chest that he kept denying. And the fact that he didn’t really feel like dying in a Jaeger cockpit anymore.
Then, for the first time since the early-morning beating, he suited up to go fight a Kaiju. Their tech gave them the ‘OK’ that they’d drifted properly, and Hange was already sending Levi looks from his right.
“You and the engineer, huh?”
“Shut up.” He said, finishing up prepping their Jaeger to be dropped in the ocean. He caught Hange’s eyes, seeing them with a no-good glint in them.
“I’m not in your head as much as you are, but I sure as hell could see it coming.” They laughed. “You’re so dense.”
“Hange, I-”
“- Ackerman. Zoe.” Erwin said, his ever-prominent ‘I’m the Marshall’ tone cutting Levi off before he could finish his threat. “You’ll be lifted off-base in T minus 3 minuets. You’ll be dropped in the Philippine sea. You’ll be fighting a category III Kaiju, dubbed by our Loccent Officer here as Anago -”
“- Nice name -”
“- Hange. Please.”
“Sorry.”
“As I was saying,” Levi could practically hear Erwin rolling his eyes. “It’s a category III Kaiju. It’s not something you haven’t fought before, but our sensors are picking up that it’s still pretty big. And moving fast. We’ll have Warrior Titan and her pilots on standby the moment things start looking like they’re moving downhill. It’s too early in the morning to have anyone die.”
Levi wondered if there was any time for anyone to die.
By the time Levi got back to the Tokyo Shatterdome it was past noon. He was too tired to function properly. His eyes kept drooping, and his legs felt wobbly.
He hadn’t felt like that since the day Ewrin lost his arm.
Or when Furlan and Isabel died.
These things kept happening. Bad things. And it was never to him. Always to his co-pilots. He hated it. With every fiber of his being he wished he could go back and save them. To have been able to keep Furlan and Isabel alive. To have been able to save Erwin from losing his arm. To have moved that much faster to save Hange.
Sure, Hange was laying across from him in the medbay, but they might’ve as well died.
Looking back, one of the worst things about having Erwin ripped from the jaeger cockpit next to him wasn’t the fact he was sure Erwin had died - no, it was finding out he was alive and having to wait for if Erwin would even wake up. Now he was doing it all over again.
After spending the rest of his day with Hange Levi was ushered out of the medbay for the doctors to do their checks. He took the time he wasn’t allowed by Hange’s side to go to the mess hall to pretend to get something to eat. He was vaguely aware of what time it was, but when he got there he was a little surprised to find it was empty.
He was even more surprised when - after he’d made himself comfortable at one of the many tables, nursing a mug of untouched tea - you stumbled in, looking as worse for wear as he was.
Your tech overalls were tied haphazardly around your waist, your hair was messier than usual, and there were shiny grease stains all over your hands, forearms and tank top. If he squinted he thought he could see some on your cheek too. But your appearance wasn’t entirely unusual.
He still liked it - only because it was normal. No other reason.
What was unusual was that you were pouring hot, tar-like coffee from it’s urn into your bowl instead of the evening’s soup - of which was located on the other end of the room. You were tired. Very tired. Levi wondered what the hell you were working on to get you so exhausted.
He watched you turn from the urn, still unaware of your ‘not-soup’ situation, and somehow navigate to take a seat on the table next to his. You sat right across from him, one table over, and still hadn’t noticed him staring at you yet.
He also watched you raise your full spoon to your mouth. He had thought about saying something. But the thought of your reaction also crossed his mind, and he decided to go with staying quiet instead.
Unfortunately the only reaction he got was you looking very confused.
“It’s coffee you dumbass.” Your head shot up, meeting his eyes almost instantly. You rolled your eyes.
“Yeah, I know that now. Dumbass.” you said, dropping the spoon to simply drink straight out of the bowl French-style. “How’s Hange going?” You asked, voice much quieter, and much more gentle than you’d ever used with him before.
“Hange -” he started, letting out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, “- Hange is okay. At least from what everyone keeps saying.”
“Good.” you hummed, “And you?”
“What about me?” He asked, bringing his mug up to his lips to take a long and unsatisfyingly cold mouthful of tea. He set the cup aside, scowling at it.
“I’ve never piloted a real Jaeger before, Ackerman, but I do know that when things like this happen to one of the pilots, they actually happen to both.” He looked over at you, squinting. “So how are you?”
He didn’t think he’d been asked that in a while.
“What,” Levi said, “did you just say?”
Erwin sighed. He knew this was coming, Levi could tell he did because he sighed. Erwin moved, his chair squeaking across the floor of his office as he lent forwards to address Levi more seriously.
“You and I both know Hange won’t do well in a Jaeger anymore.” Erwin said. “As much as you know I’d hate to say it, you should seriously consider the possibility of finding a new co-pilot.”
“I’d rather not.”
“I know.”
“I’d rather retire.”
“I know.”
“Why can’t I retire?” Levi asked. He knew the answer to that too. He just wanted to finally hear it.
“You’re too big of an asset to just,” Erwin gestured, “let go. Your knowledge of Kajiu’s and skill in a Jaeger is unparalleled. Only Miche and Nanaba come close to your level and they’re -”
“- on maternity leave. I know -”
“- so having you out of commission right now isn’t something my higher-ups are keen on.”
A couple beats past. Erwin and Levi kept looking at each other. They both also knew the solution to this new problem - finding Levi a new partner.
“We need to bring in the engineer.”
“Don’t.”
“We have no choice, Levi.” Erwin squinted at Levi. “You weren’t so defensive the other times.”
When Isabel and Furlan were replaced with Erwin. When Erwin was replaced with Hange. It was true, Levi barely battered an eyelid at them all being replaced - mainly because he did know them all fairly well before they joined him in the drift. They were all originally from the same batch of cadets. With you, however, it was a little different.
Sure, he did know you - for a couple years now - but he also knew that your connection ran deeper than just being ‘drift compatible’. That scared him.
“I’m tired, Erwin.” Levi lied. “I just want it to be over.”
“We all do, Levi.”
“Huh.”
Levi raised his eyes at you.
“Is that all you have to say?” he said, “‘Huh’?” You quickly caught yourself, wiping your dirty fingers across your jumpsuit, and shaking our head.
“No, no, no, sorry,” you stuttered, “I just - it’s only just kicking in.”
He asked you to be his co-pilot.
Hange had woken up yesterday afternoon, and there was nothing anyone could do about the lack of an eyeball they were now suffering from. They were no-longer fit to pilot the left hemisphere, seeing as the injury would be a hindrance. But you as a replacement for the dominant side of a Jaeger?
“I can’t do that.”
Levi blinked at you.
“What?’
“I can’t pilot a Jaeger, Ackerman.” you said, shaking your head again. “Not one of such high of a reputation at least. I -”You were cut off by Levi grabbing your arm, yanking you away from the crew working on the Warrior Titan, and into a very small, and barely lit space.
That bastard pulled you into a supply closet.
“Listen brat, and you better listen pretty damn well -” he said, his grip still tight on your arms, “- you train like a pilot. You want to be a Ranger, and this is your chance. In this world you make decisions - your choice is either one you agree with, or you regret. Make sure you don’t regret a single thing.”
His words were dead serious, and you were planning on taking them seriously. But his eyes - they were saying something you couldn’t understand. Become a Ranger, live life to the fullest, regret nothing. Stay an engineer, stay safe, regret nothing. He was telling you to say yes, and to say no, at the same time.
And he was also very, very, very close to you right now. And there was too little room inside that room.
So you ran away.
Not even a few hours later, Marshall Erwin himself came to find you - and you made sure to put yourself somewhere where even the other engineers would struggle to find you. But he found you anyway - crammed in the space between a Jaeger’s breastplates and it’s reactor core.
Bastard.
“Ranger Ackerman said you didn’t respond too well to his offer.” he said. You sighed, dropping your tool in your lap. “Why did you run?”
“I don’t really know.” You wiped your forehead with your arm, and then rested your hands on your hips as you looked up at him. He looked back at you, steely eyes softening, and he took a moment to sit down with you.
“You don’t have to know, so I’ll rephrase.” he said, “Does it not feel wrong?”
“No! God, no.” you said quickly, waving a hand out at him. “No it feels right. It’s just, it’s scary. The idea of going into that cockpit with him when he’s had so many others go through his brain like that. You, and Hange, as well as the other two he started with - that’s already more people than any other pilot in our history. I…”
“You don’t know if you can handle it.” Erwin finished. He stood, smoothing out his clothes and brushing off the dirt, then looked down at where you still sat. “If it helped ease your mind, he wouldn’t have talked to you about it at all if he didn’t think you could do it.”
“They’re not coming.”
“They have to.”
“They won’t.”
“Jeezus Levi, have some faith. I know the new copilot thing isn’t something you want to do but try to not act like you’ll miss me in your head that much.” He almost liked the idea of Hange being back in the med bay rather than watching from up in coms with Moblit.
But deep, deep, deep inside, he was glad that Hange was awake now.
After Erwin went to talk to you, he went back to Levi and they spoke a little more. Levi agreed to being nice on your first day. But inside he was adding if you even showed up.
“Better quit daydreaming Ackerman, or I’ll start piloting this hunk without you.”
He swiveled his head, turning to the left to see you standing there waiting to get ‘locked’ into place. Unfortunately, you looked really good in the drivesuit, and that was unfortunate only because you would know he thought that in, like, five minutes.
You’d know everything in, like, five minutes.
“You’d better be ready for this.” he said, looking over at you with an intensity only an Ackerman could pull off. “Don’t make me look like a fool.” A smile slowly creeped onto your face.
“You know, technically I’m in charge. You should stop bossing me around.”
“Oh damn -” Hange’s voice cut through your coms, “- I like this one Levi.”
“Shut up Hange.”
You’d prepared yourself for the drift.
Erwin had given you a file the night before, barely an hour after you went to him and said you’d do it. It was a lot of paperwork, and a surprisingly vague amount of information.
But was it enough?
Levi had been through hell and back, and now you’d get a front-row seat to all of it. But at least you were a little prepared.
You guessed, also, that Erwin gave Levi some info on you too. Not that there was a lot of it. Or any of it. Not compared to what was in his head anyway.
“Initiating the neural handshake in three… two… one…”
A jolt went down your spine, through your arms, to your fingers and down to your toes. Memories flashed behind your closed eyes, blurry and rushed.
Playing outside with your father.
Reading with your sister.
The first kaiju reached the news.
Not being comparable with anyone in training.
Sparring with Levi a few days ago.
You sucking in a deep breath. No chasing the rabbit. Let the memories go. Then Levi’s memories hit.
Growing up with his mother and uncle.
Kaijus.
Living at the shatterdomes.
Losing his friends. Again. And Again.
You stumbled where you stood, opening your eyes and looking over at Levi. He was already looking at you, asking if you were okay without speaking. You nodded, letting out a shaky laugh as you smiled.
“This is amazing.” you gasped.
“I know.” he said, but you heard a different reply. ‘Just like you.’
You heard a lot, felt more too. The overwhelming emotions you got from drifting with Levi was more than you expected. He felt more than he let on.
“How about taking her out for a run?” You offered, distracting yourself from overthinking about everything too much with the buttons and screens around you.
“What do you think Levi?” Erwin asked.
“You ought to know what I think Smith. They wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
“Copy that Ranger,” Erwin scoffed, “We’ll get you ready to go out.”
A beat passed, you side-eyed Levi, letting a giggle slip. He huffed beside you, and the jaeger weight shifted with you as you both lent your weight on a different foot.
“What now?”
“You like how my shoulders look in my tank top, huh?”
“You like staring at my ass so we’re even.”
Series Taglist: @tanyeonn
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#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman one shot#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan one shot#aot x reader#aot one shot#pacrim au#iin between#shingeki no kyojin x reader#shingeki no kyojin one shot#snk x reader#snk one shot
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You’ll Be in My Heart
AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2021 | Day 3 – Valediction Rating: T (family issues, politics) Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort Word Count: 3,105
“Isabelle, darling,” Riza begins with a great effort to keep her voice even. “You know what Mama and Papa do for work, don’t you?” A pause. “Mama and Papa are working for the country. Many things have happened… that have hurt many people. We want to make things right for them and protect them, even if it’s hard.”
Isabelle looks up and turns to Riza. “Then—then you and Papa aren’t bad people?”
———
Isabelle Mustang is ten years old when Riza Hawkeye, now the First Lady of Amestris, receives an unexpected call in her office. It comes as Riza has just finished facilitating a seminar on the Amestris educational system, when she has a five-minute reprieve before a planning meeting for the country’s Foundation Day. She picks up the phone on the third ring, composed and professional as always:
“Colonel Hawkeye’s office.”
“Your Excellency,” a kind voice says from the other end. “This is Mrs. Phillips. I teach history at Central Primary School.”
“Yes, good afternoon, Mrs. Phillips. What can I do for you?”
There is a pause before the next, carefully spoken words. “I’m calling about your daughter, Your Excellency. I apologize that this is so sudden—you must be terribly busy—but I’m afraid it’s urgent.”
Riza’s breath catches in her throat. There can only be unfortunate news following such a divulgence, but one possibility in particular surfaces far more easily than the others, as if it has just been waiting to do so from the back of her mind. She settles onto an upholstered armchair before swallowing and saying, “No, please. Go on.”
Riza waits.
“Isabelle is quite distressed.” Mrs. Phillips’ voice drops to a near whisper. “We’ve just started our lessons on Ishval.”
Riza’s heart sinks.
Mrs. Phillips speaks with an even, respectful tone that suggests hesitation, a kind of concern that usually comes with reports about a child getting injured or displaying disturbing behavior. There is sympathy and understanding as well—sentiments which Riza has always expected to be directed at her, but which she does not believe she deserves. She would have preferred to be judged more candidly, more harshly for the choices that have created this predicament in the first place.
But as equal parts hardened soldier and devoted mother, Riza suppresses every disparaging thought that might have otherwise frozen her in place. She calmly thanks Mrs. Phillips, assures her that she will be arriving at the school promptly, and ends the call. Walks into her meeting and declares to the officers present that they will be meeting tomorrow instead. Makes a call to the Xingese Embassy and requests that the Führer be allowed to leave this evening's state dinner early so he could attend to urgent matters.
Riza is out of the building in just fifteen minutes. What follows next, however, feels like being suspended in a dream with no real grasp of time. The drive to Central Primary School is excruciatingly slow—whether she ought to blame the car, the roads, or her rusty reflexes from not having taken the wheel since becoming First Lady, she isn’t quite sure. The walk through the school’s hallways is even worse. She struggles to ignore about a hundred pairs of eyes following her to the principal’s office, both surprised and concerned.
Isabelle looks much like her father, with her dark head of hair and almond-shaped eyes that always look curious and focused. But her hair is short, styled exactly like Riza’s at the same age, and her eyes are brown instead of her father’s dark gray. It could have broken Riza to see her like this, withdrawn into her small frame and her face red from fighting back tears, but she doesn’t falter.
“Isabelle,” Riza says gently, crouching before her. She brushes Isabelle’s fringe away from her face, where her hand rests to rub her daughter’s cheek with her thumb. “Isabelle, darling, I’m here.”
Only when Isabelle leans forward from her seat does Riza take her into her arms. She realizes that her heart is racing as harshly as Isabelle is trembling, and she tightens the embrace. She can’t even imagine letting go.
Riza speaks briefly to Mrs. Phillips and the principal. Mrs. Phillips explains in hushed tones how the lesson on Ishval began, how Isabelle absorbed and participated in the lesson, and what her classmates said. The questions and whispers about the Hero of Ishval and the Hawk’s Eye were not quite accusations, but the children—no doubt having heard stories from their parents, especially those who had served in the military at one point—pressed on and on with their typical bluntness and intense curiosity. That was enough, Mrs. Phillips says, to reduce Isabelle to tears by the end of the lesson.
Isabelle hardly speaks for the rest of the afternoon, answering Riza’s careful questions only with single words or a nod or shake of the head. When they arrive at the presidential mansion, Isabelle immediately retreats to her room. Riza escorts her to the door, then thinks it best to let her have time to herself. She returns in the evening to call Isabelle to dinner, only to find that Isabelle hasn’t even touched the pie and juice that were sent to her in the afternoon.
Riza sits quietly by Isabelle’s bed, holding her sleeping daughter’s hand. They stir when the door opens and Roy enters, still dressed in his suit from the state dinner with the Xingese Embassy. He appears composed, all of him but his troubled eyes.
“Papa,” Isabelle says, her voice breaking.
Roy strides over to the bed, where Isabelle flings her arms around him when he has barely sat on the edge. She shakes and cries and Roy holds her closely as he whispers into her hair, “It’s all right now, my sunshine. You’ll be all right.”
Riza joins him on the side where he sits. One hand on Isabelle’s back, another on Roy’s arm, she looks at him quietly, and he knows exactly what she means the moment their eyes meet. His expression tenses.
They allow Isabelle to continue crying until her sobs subside from exhaustion. Roy lifts her from where she sits, and she adjusts accordingly as he sets her on his lap, between himself and Riza. He pulls out a handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers, then dabs at her tears carefully as he coaxes her, “Will you tell Papa what happened?”
Isabelle sniffles. “We… we learned about Ishval in class today. Just like y-you and Mama always talked about.”
“I see. What did you learn about Ishval?”
“Well… they said the Ishvalans h-had their own culture, and they prayed to th-their own god. And soldiers—soldiers killed many Ishvalans because they wanted to—to take the Ishvalans’ land a-and culture away.” Her voice grows thick as she continues, “And the other—the other children s-said—the other children said—that—”
“Mm-hmm?”
“They said—th-that you and Mama—you killed many people—”
Isabelle’s words are lost to her renewed sobs. She bawls, burying her face in Roy’s shirt as Riza leans against her back with a comforting squeeze of her arm, and Roy pulls mother and daughter together into a tight embrace. It takes a few moments for Riza to notice that Roy’s hand is cold as it digs into her shoulder, and it takes her everything she has to fight back tears of her own. I’m here, she desperately thinks as she reaches for his wrist and squeezes it. You and I are here together.
“Isabelle, darling,” Riza begins with a great effort to keep her voice even. “You know what Mama and Papa do for work, don’t you?” A pause. “Mama and Papa are working for the country. Many things have happened… that have hurt many people. We want to make things right for them and protect them, even if it’s hard.”
Isabelle looks up and turns to Riza. “Then—then you and Papa aren’t bad people?”
Riza’s breath seems to catch in her chest. Roy takes a deep breath as he strokes Isabelle’s hair. “Mama and Papa… have done things that we regret. We never wanted to do them, but back then we had no choice. It’s… complicated, but it doesn’t excuse any of those things that we did.” He draws another deep, shaky breath. “All that we can do is to work with our people to make sure that those who have been hurt—like the Ishvalans—that they can heal. And we want to make sure that those bad things will never happen again.” He cradles Isabelle’s cheek in one hand. “Do you trust us to do that?”
Their daughter doesn’t say another word. She weeps into his shoulder once again, falling asleep after what seems like a half hour that is silent except for her sniffles and hiccups. Roy and Riza gently tuck Isabelle under the covers, each leaving a kiss on her forehead, but neither can find the strength to leave right after that.
Riza sits at the edge of the bed and stares for a long time at Isabelle’s face. She appears so peaceful in sleep, even with the traces of tears that have been left behind.
“We did everything we could.”
Roy settles just behind her. He reaches around Riza to take and kiss her hand; his warmth is a comfort as he leans towards her. “I know. We always knew this day would come. We’ve been preparing her for this for a long time, but there’s nothing we can do about what other people will say about us.”
“And even if it’s not how we would have wanted to tell her everything, it’s still the truth.”
Riza’s heart seems to burn with dread. An old, familiar feeling that has stayed with her since the day Isabelle was born, even though in her heart of hearts she still hoped that the singular, unprecedented course of her life might run against her expectations. But what else could the impassioned risks that she and Roy took have led to? What other consequence is there for trusting each other so wholly that they have given away too much—all of themselves in doing so?
What else could happen now but the worst possible thing?
“Oh, Roy.” Riza’s voice shakes as tears escape her for the first time today—the first in a long time. “I can’t bear to lose her."
———
Isabelle Mustang is eighteen years old when she arrives at the Resembool campus of the University of Amestris, not in the least bit anxious about living away from home for the first time in her life. She sits at the back of an official state car between her mother and father. Not much has been said throughout the trip, other than how pleasant it is to live in the East and that it’s an ideal place for a well-rounded, immersive education. To Isabelle’s left, Riza has her hand locked in a tight grasp; to her right, Roy sits perfectly still.
Riza has never felt a greater divide between herself and her daughter before today. No one can say that she and Roy never tried to relieve their daughter’s anxieties about their time in Ishval. They have spent the better part of the past eight years speaking more openly about the realities of war, as well as the worldly conditions that surround it. They’ve allowed her a glimpse into the Ishval Restoration Program, provided her with learning materials and taken her along on a number of trips to Ishval and surrounding communities to gain better appreciation of Ishval’s past and the government’s future plans for it. They have kept no secret of every sacrifice they’ve made for more than half of their lives in order to atone for their sins in Ishval.
If it all had worked, Isabelle would not have grown distant from them as she grew older and formed more opinions about the world, especially on its injustices. She would not have kept bearing the wounds caused by the knowledge of what her parents have done and of the permanence of a thousand lives lost against her own rather privileged upbringing. Isabelle has learned all that she could about both sides of this great tragedy; Riza and Roy understand where her heart lies.
Riza squeezes Isabelle’s hand as they approach the university’s dormitory, as though hoping that it might freeze time in the present. She lets go only when the car pulls up by the entrance, then alights first to make way for Isabelle. It’s one of those moments when Riza is reminded of just how much her daughter has grown; she is nearly as tall as Riza now, her features sharper and even closer to Roy’s. Her hair, now shoulder-length, has lightened into a shade of brown that matches her eyes. And Riza finds it difficult to ignore how growing up with a great emotional burden has given Isabelle a hardened look—one that Riza knows all too well from her own difficult youth.
She brushes Isabelle’s hair out of her face with both hands, then rests them on her daughter’s shoulders. “Home isn’t going to be the same without you, my love.”
Isabelle purses her lips and briefly casts her eyes downwards before responding. “You and Papa will be all right.”
Riza draws a breath far too sharp.
“You know that you can always transfer to the campus in Central next year. Or next semester.” It’s a futile wish, and Riza knows it. “Well, write and call home, won’t you?”
Before Isabelle has a chance to respond, another car door opens. Roy exits, quickly striding around the car from his side to join mother and daughter at the steps leading up to the dormitory. The cap that he wears with his uniform is drawn low over his forehead, almost concealing his eyes.
He grasps Isabelle by the arms, sparing a long moment to take in the sight of her from head to toe, before enveloping her in an embrace. “Take care of yourself,” he whispers. His voice is low, so controlled that it comes out strangled. “I love you.”
The moment ends quickly, far too quickly. Isabelle bows her head respectfully as she backs away, then turns and enters the dormitory without saying another word. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t look over her shoulder, doesn’t turn back to give a belated response to any of her parents’ well-wishes. Riza feels her chest sting with every step Isabelle takes, wondering for the hundredth time how this farewell could have turned out differently.
Beside Riza, Roy’s fingers find and intertwine with hers. Even after many years, they are not any less surreptitious about their displays of affection.
His voice breaks as he says, “She won’t even look at me.”
Riza holds on to him—to what little is still keeping her heart together.
———
Today, Isabelle Mustang is twenty-eight years old.
In the hot Ishvalan sun, it’s evident just how much she has grown from a troubled young girl into her own woman. There is a deep flush on her face from the desert heat, a firmness in the way she walks that comes from having done diligent field work and immersion among common folk. She has somewhat grown out of the physical features she inherited from her parents, but she has never looked more like them than she does today. Her focused eyes are her father’s; the compassion behind them, her mother’s.
It has been six years since Isabelle moved out of the presidential mansion and last spoke to either Riza or Roy. Today is the first time that they are wholly seeing her as the person she has been molded into by her experiences. Each step in her life has brought her heart closer to Ishval and the dream of seeing it restored to its former glory—from her degree in psychological anthropology to her activism in an organization that has been campaigning for the peaceful secession of Ishval from Amestris.
Today, she is far more than either of them have ever hoped to be.
Isabelle takes her place on the stage of the Kanda Amphitheater in the region’s capital. Before an enthusiastic crowd, she is introduced as one of a small number of Amestrians who will be serving as peace ambassadors for Ishval, as ordained by the Ishvalans themselves in preparation for their transition into an independent state over the next few years. An Ishvalan leader prays over the ceremony, giving praise for this historical moment that has at last truly begun the process of healing among his people. A new beginning that comes after decades of unfruitful compromises and reforms.
It’s a significant crossroads in the complicated history of Ishval, just as much as it is a turning point in the path that Riza and Roy have taken for most of their lives. The years had proven to them how difficult it truly was to forge a future that would best serve the interests of all their people, but perhaps more importantly, it has exposed the harsh reality that even though they share their dreams with other people, this did not guarantee that any of their plans would be perfect, or that everyone would follow the same path of peace that she and Roy had determined. Isabelle is perhaps the best example of this—Isabelle, who never found a place in governance the way they did, whose place has always been firmly with and among the Ishvalans moving towards a more progressive future than the Amestris government could have ever given them.
But these differences hardly matter in the present amid this celebration of a new dawn for Amestris and Ishval. Riza joins Roy in completing one of their remaining functions as the last appointed Führer and First Lady of Amestris. They meet and congratulate each member of the Ishvalan interim government and their peace ambassadors, and they come face to face with their daughter for the first time in a long time.
There are no embraces between them now, no loving caresses, no words exchanged even in greeting. It’s enough for Riza and Roy to shake Isabelle’s hand in turn, to share only the quickest of glances with her, because she must know by their eyes how proud they are of her. She must know how grateful they are that she has dreamed more selflessly than they ever have, and how despite all the years that she has been separated from them, their love for her has never wavered.
Still, Riza and Roy watch Isabelle leave after the ceremony the same way she did when she first entered university all those years ago: back turned, eyes set resolutely on the path before her. It may run in a different direction from theirs after today, perhaps for a long time—however long it would take them all to truly heal from their estrangement—but it is a path that they trust because Isabelle has chosen it for herself.
Wherever it may end, however long it may take, surely this path will someday lead her home.
#Royai Week#Royai Week 2021#RoyaiWeek21#Roy Mustang#Riza Hawkeye#Royai#Fullmetal Alchemist#Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood#FMA#FMAB#Day 3 - Valediction#fanfiction#fanfic#one-shot#angst#hurt#comfort#parental Royai#Ishval Civil War#family issues#CW: family issues#writing#written by nina
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LOVESTORY - Chp 7.5
intermission
warnings: swearing
My name is Rose Walter and I’m just your average 24 year old girl, trying to get by in life. I grew up in the big city and worked the register at a local convenience store. Nothing special. Well, I was cursed at birth but besides that, nothing special.
And today has officially been the worst day of my life.
It all started when I was born. No wait, a little after that. After the whole birth cursing thing. That part’s not important. Anyway, when I was a child, I was just sitting in front of the T.V, watching whatever my dad had put on to get me to shut up when it happened. An ad played. An ad for a company I’d never heard of before. Sunshine Manufacturing. I still remember how engrossed I’d been at the time. The colours. The exaggerated expressions of the actors. The music. The mascot. And for some reason, the ad stuck with me. It would always be in the back of my mind, a memory waiting to resurface.
One night, when I couldn’t sleep, the ad came to mind again and I finally caved in. After several hours of desperately searching for it on the Internet, I found and re watched it. It really was as weird as I’d remembered and though the company had rebranded itself quite a while back, it still really interested me.
So, I started doing research on Sunshine Manufacturing, learning more about it each day. And I liked what I saw. I respected their environmental policies and loved what they stood for. Their products were innovative and from what I’ve read, they treated their employees really well. I also had a huge crush on their velki CEO, Isabelle Wilfred and given the opportunity, I would climb her like a tree, but that was more of a recent thing.
So, after getting a diploma and a stable job, I applied for a position there. And about a week ago, they finally wrote back. They said they wanted to see me for a job interview, which had been amazing news! Both amazing and terrifying, actually. I didn’t want to mess up what could be my only chance to join them so I blew a bunch of cash on a new suit and some makeup. I looked up interview questions and how to make a good impression on your interviewer. What was considered good etiquette and how to make yourself memorable. I practiced what I would say in my free time. Studied my expressions in the mirror as I did. And finally, the faithful day arrived.
It was raining.
That was the first sign something terrible was going to happen. I’d barely managed to get to a sheltered spot before the downpour started and my socks were soaking wet. Ugh. Now, I stood in front of the massive office building, clutching my briefcase tightly to my person and trying to psyche myself up while peering though the windows. I made sure not to take too long. I didn’t want to make a bad first impression by being late. Also, the receptionist was starting to stare. I checked myself in the reflection. Suit? Check. Hairstyle I unfortunately had to pay $50 for? Check. Gloves to prevent people from coming into contact with my hands and falling in love with me? Check.
I entered the building and took a look around while walking up to the reception desk. Everything was clean, white and quiet and I already felt out of place. Unprofessional compared to these pristine walls. A cheaper suit was all I could afford and the pointless bronze peacock statue in the center of the room was judging me for it.
Nevertheless, I pushed onward. I reached the desk, where a velki was tapping away silently at a computer, and pressed the button on the front. A beat later, he was leaning over the table to get a look at me.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I, uh, have a job interview today,” I said, having to look up to meet his gaze.
“Your name?”
“Uh…Rose Water-uh, Walter. Rose Walter.”
The receptionist's head disappeared and he typed away at his keyboard. Then his head came back into view. “You’re the 10:30 appointment?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Uh…yeah?”
He let out a low whistle. “Well, good luck. You’re gonna need it.”
That was the second omen. I decided not to dwell on it.
“Head down the hall to your left and take the elevator. It’s the 60th floor.”
“Which room is it?”
“Trust me. You’ll know.”
I started making my way to the elevator when the receptionist spoke up. “Your other left.”
I ducked my head. “Ah, right. Thank you.”
As I rode the empty human elevator up, I tried to give myself a pep talk to calm my nerves. “Okay,” I said to no one. “Alright. I can do this. I can do this. I’ve trained my whole life for this moment. My credentials are good. I know everything about this place. I’m passionate. A hard worker. An asset to this company. I deserve this job. In a few minutes, I will wow the interviewer with my words and begin the first day of rest of my life. I can do this. I can do anything I put my mind to. I’m ROSE WALTER.”
I pumped both fists into the air as I yelled this and that’s when elevator doors slid open with a pleasant ding.
I froze mid shout and the poor human woman on the other side of the doors stared at me. Elevator music played and neither of us made a move.
She didn’t get on.
Slowly, the elevator doors slid shut again.
I…put my fists down and closed my mouth. …hopefully, I’d never see her again if I got this job. I shook it off and tried to pass the time by reviewing some interview questions. It gave me some comfort, at least. I was more than prepared for this. It would be a piece of cake.
Finally, I reached 60th floor. That receptionist hadn’t been kidding. The elevator opened to a very short hallway with a set of intricately carved double doors at the end. The third and final warning.
I straightened out my suit and knocked on the doors.
“Enter,” said a feminine voice on the other side.
I pushed through the smaller, but just as intricately carved human doors and found myself in a large room. Much larger than I had expected a room that held interviews would be. It was much more furnished too. There was a couch with a coffee table off to the left, a complicated chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a table with velki refreshments to the right and several other small tables carrying various cat statues and vases filled with flowers. The colours, all dark browns and deep blues, gave the room a muted but professional look. Sunlight flooded in through the floor to ceiling windows behind a large oak desk.
And at that desk sat famous CEO Isabelle Wilfred.
I pinched myself. It hurt.
So that’s what the receptionist had meant.
Isabelle Wilfred. This was her office. Why had I been directed to her office? What did she want from me? Was she going to interview me? Had I committed some kind of war crime so heinous only famous and powerful CEO, Isabelle Wilfred, could fix it? What was I supposed to do?
Isabelle Wilfred cleared her throat and I realized I had been staring. I dropped my gaze. Then picked it back up because if this still was a job interview then that was rude. I let out a slow breath before making my way over to her table, each step bringing me closer to her. I quickly climbed up the stairs to the top of the desk.
Isabelle Wilfred’s desk. Because she was going to interview me.
I pinched myself again on the way up. Still hurt.
Once I reached the top, I walked to stand in front of Isabelle Wilfred and forced my eyes to meet her beautiful light green ones. The desk was quite wide and there was plenty of room between me and her but, in my opinion, it wasn’t enough. She was even more beautiful up close and it was all I could do not to turn into a blubbering mess. She stared back and it took me a second to remember why I was here.
“G-good morning, Ms. Wilfred.”
“Good morning, Ms. Walter. Please sit.” She nodded to the chair behind me and I sat.
“So, you’re probably wondering why I called you here.”
“Y-yes, ma’am.” My heart was pounding.
“Normally, interviews are conducted by the Resources department but, well, your application…really stood out to me. Pardon my boldness but I just had to see you for myself.”
Famous CEO Isabelle Wilfred thought I was interesting.
…still hurt.
“T-thank you, ma’am.”
“So if you’re ready, we’ll begin.”
I nodded. “I’m ready.”
Isabelle Wilfred folded her hands. “Tell me a little about yourself.”
The interview went on for quite some time. At first I was nervous because I was being interviewed by a very powerful CEO who was also the woman of my dreams but after a while, we got into a comfortable rhythm. I could tell she was impressed by my answers because she smiled and nodded along thoughtfully as I spoke, which was great for my confidence and horrible for just about everything else. I was glad I was sitting or I would have fallen over.
Finally, the interview drew to a close.
Isabelle Wilfred nodded to herself before turning to me.
“That will be all, Ms. Walter. Thank you.”
She stood and brought her index finger towards me. I stood and extended my arm as well. We shook and I thought things were starting to look up for me when Isabelle Wilfred froze. Her eyes widened and her pupils focused on a spot in the middle distance.
I knew that look.
Horrified, I snatched my hand away and inspected the glove.
It had a small, barely noticeable hole in it.
I looked back up. Isabelle Wilfred blinked slowly, her gaze starting to focus on me once more. I stared back. She blinked again. Shook her head slightly, as if coming out of a trance. I swallowed.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, clutching her head in confusion. “I…must have spaced out for a second there.” She shook her head again. Blinked. Her eyes cleared. “I…I’ll have some people email you in a few days with your results. You may go.”
I blinked up at her. “O-okay. Thank you, ma’am.”
I made my way down the staircase, both confused and grateful nothing had happened. Maybe my curse had broken at some point. Or maybe since the actual area of contact was so small, especially to her, it only had a hold of her for a second. Or maybe we didn’t even touch. That was probably it. I sighed in relief.
And then a huge face filled my vision, just outside the rails of the staircase. Isabelle Wilfred stared at me, her head at an odd angle from leaning out of her chair. Her eyes were wild and her smile was now much more…manic than it had been earlier. I knew that look too. She was under the curse.
I had accidentally made famous CEO, Isabelle Wilfred, fall in love with me.
I pressed myself into the opposite railing, wide eyed, and felt my cheeks start to warm at the proximity.
“Actually,” Isabelle Wilfred started, as if this was all completely normal. “I-.” Then she cut herself off with a snort that quickly devolved into a fit of laughter.
-
“Alright, cut. CUT! Really Abby. Again? Really? I’m trying to make a show here.”
Isabelle Wilfred, also known as Abby White in the real world, sat up and leaned back in the prop chair, still laughing. “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed to the tired director, Fable Peterson, through her laughter.
Rose Walter, played by up and coming actress Mia Watson, also laughed. She slipped past a cameraman and climbed back up the staircase.
“I think,” Fable said, “we need a break.” They turned to address everyone in the room. “Everybody take 5! We’ll try again at 2pm.”
Everyone let out a collective groan before setting their equipment on standby and slowly trudging out of the room. Mia reached the top of the desk again and jumped out of the way of the human camera crew on their way down. She reached Abby and sat down next to her.
“Hey,” Fable said, as they walked over the prop table. They took care to step around the tired human camera crew. “Explain something to me, Abby. Why is it always that scene? We’ve been through it 3 times now! 3 times.”
Abby chuckled and shook her head. “Look, it’s not my fault Mia’s scared expression is so amazing. Show them, Mia.”
Mia pulled off another shocked expression, adding some exaggerated hand gestures for good measure and causing Abby to erupt into laughter again. Fable just shook their head but had to fight off a smile of their own.
“I wanna finish this scene by today, dammit.” They rubbed their eyes. “Ugh. I’m going to go drink something with caffeine in it and rethink my life choices.”
“You’re the best director in the world?” Abby tried.
Fable waved her off as they walked away. “Yeah, yeah. I forgive you. See you girls in 2 hours.” They left the room, leaving Abby and Mia alone.
Abby rested the side of her face on the table and turned to look at Mia. “Hi.”
Mia, for all intents and purposes, had to fight to meet Abby’s gaze in real life too.
They’d met a few weeks ago, after the final casting had been decided, and Abby had been nothing but nice to her since they’d met. Sharing a lot of scenes in the show, they’d spent a lot of time together, whether it be rehearsing or just hanging out. And Mia had started to accumulate feelings for Abby, though she still wasn’t ready to admit this to herself. She could, however, admit to herself that this new proximity wasn’t helping. “…hi.”
“So, how’s it going so far? Everything you wanted it to be?”
“…I think things are going well. I…I still can’t believe I actually got the part of the main character. It’s like a dream come true.”
“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, Mia. You’re an amazing actor. You deserve to be here.”
Mia focused on the bridge of Abby’s nose to avoid looking into her eyes, which were still an absolutely beautiful pale green. “…thanks. That means a lot coming from such a great actor.”
“What, me?” Abby blew raspberries and they both laughed. They watched each other for just a moment too long before Abby broke eye contact and sat back up. She stretched. “Well, I’m starving.” She looked down at Mia. Looked around the empty room. Turned to Mia again. Coughed. “Hey, you…wanna go grab some grub together?”
Mia smiled.
-
7 years later, at around 2 in the morning and almost halfway across the planet, Syren Jones stared wide eyed at her laptop as she read the news article over once again. She smiled to herself. Then, she scrambled for her phone and texted her friend of over 9 months, Thaddeus Kayne. She asked if he was awake and he responded by informing her of the time but stayed awake anyway as Syren excitingly told him about how just yesterday, the people who had played the main characters in one of her favourite shows had gotten married.
Her screen displayed a picture of the aforementioned couple posing for the camera. Two woman, a velki and a human. The velki, Abby White, wore a sleek grey suit with a dark blue boutonnière and was holding her spouse to her face, smiling. The human, Mia Watson, wore an elegant flowing white gown and was kissing White on the check, also smiling.
They were happy.
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Fave characters from the last 5 things I’ve watched/read/seen/etc:
I was tagged by @a-lil-bi-furious forever ago, and I’m finally doing it. Yay. Go me. Long rambly post ahead.
1 - Isabelle Lightwood (Freeform’s Shadowhunters)
Izzy, Izzy, Izzy. There are so many good things to say about her. I love that she's so versatile; she's one of their best warriors, she's the Weapon's Master, she's a skilled forensic pathologist. She's incredibly intelligent and strong and also unabashedly feminine. She's faced demons and warlocks and rogue shadowhunters, and she beat them all in five-inch heels.
I love that she's so in control of and unashamed in her sexuality, despite her mother's and other's comments and snipes about it. She's gorgeous and enjoys sex and she owns it, and I'm so proud of her. I wish she got better love interests (like Clary), because I realize I didn't particularly like Raphael or Simon.
One of my favorite things of the whole show is her love for her family, most showcased with Alec. Her unwavering support in him, and trying to help him be his best, authentic self, is so pure, and her supporting him and Magnus is so refreshing compared he rest of their family just...not.
2 - Bonnie Bennett (The CW’s The Vampire Diaries)
Bonnie was my favorite from the moment I started (and probably one of my favorite characters of all time), and it broke my heart how the show treated her. She was a bold, brave, and powerful black Bennett witch who was controlled by racist writers and manipulated by selfish vampires.
But even with those obstacles, she did some incredible feats. She went up against (and beat) Originals multiple times, the first after she'd only been a practicing witch for a few months. She singlehandedly held back hellfire for a time and saved Mystic Falls (and all its residents' undeserving asses) numerous times and never got the appreciation she deserved.
She deserved her happy ending with Enzo and I will never forgive Plec (or Stefan) from taking that away from her. Even with everything she went through, she was kind, she was compassionate, she was understanding, and she was more forgiving than she probably should have been. Her interactions with Nora in season 7 warmed my heart.
3 - Maria DeLuca (The CW’s Roswell, New Mexico)
As Liz said, “Maria DeLuca is her own savior, every damn time.” And it's really unfortunate that the show (and the fandom) really make her keep proving it. This woman has so much on her shoulders, a sick mum and running a business. She's constantly alone, left out, and used as a prop for other's stories, and I hate it. Making her the obstacle for the fandom's favorite-gay-ship™️ was a bad move on the writers' part, and the treatment Heather Hemmens has received in playing her is horrendous.
With all that, Maria is still lively and outgoing and fun. Her wit is phenomenal, and any scene with her and Isobel snarking at each other is a hoot. Her little interactions with everybody are my favorite honestly. She's fiery and strong and bold, but I also so appreciate when we get to see her vulnerable. (Also, she looks like a goddess in that first gif.)
Full disclosure, I had a hard time deciding between Maria and Jenna Cameron as my favorite, and they literally have had like two scenes together at the end of S2 but I ship them hard. So if the show could just get on that, that'd be appreciated.
4 - Olivia Baker (The CW’s All American)
Words cannot describe how much I love Olivia. Just gotta get this out of the way, Samantha Logan is exceptionally gorgeous, and even my gay ass can't decide if I should pay more attention to Olivia or her brother when they're both on screen. But that's not important.
Something about Liv and her story just really resonated with me, and episode 1x12 had me bawling. Watching this good, kind, bright girl feel so alone and isolated was heart wrenching. She deserves the world, and I'm glad she's finding a good support system.
My favorite thing about Liv is how much she cares. If she sees something wrong or unjust, she does not hesitate to call it out, and if something is happening to her family or friends, she does everything she can to help. And that's a good thing, but I worry she focuses to much on others, at the expense of herself. I'd love if, in the coming season(s), she learns how to and is allowed to work on and take care of herself.
5 - Anissa Pierce (The CW’s Black Lightning)
My kick-ass superhero baby. She's a black, lesbian medical student and part-time teacher. Her love for her family is undeniable, as is her hatred if injustice. This drives her to become a vigilante superhero after only days/weeks of discovering her powers, and she fought her dad to a standstill (neither of them knew who the other was, but he was far more experienced than she was).
She's shown to be perhaps the physically strongest in the show (which I fucking love), and her fighting prowess is near unmatched. So like, that's obviously all cool, but it's only part of why I love her so. She's a force to reckoned with no matter what identity she's in (Anissa, Thunder, or Blackbird). She's passionate and loving.
Speaking of loving, her and Grace own my heart. An interracial wlw badass superpowered couple is basically everything I could want. They (and this whole damn show) are SO GOOD.
I'm tagging @rosaortecho and @wonderdoves, but like, no pressure. Or anyone who wants to, just say you were tagged by me so I can see y’alls opinions.
First Bonnie gif is from @bob-belcher, second from @imaginingxmen. For some reason I cannot get the formatting done with hers, just the others, so.
#i watch too many cw shows#shadowhunters#the vampire diaries#roswell new mexico#all american#black lightning#isabelle lightwood#emeraude toubia#bonnie bennett#kat graham#maria deluca#heather hemmens#olivia baker#samantha logan#anissa pierce#nafessa williams#tag games#llama's tagged#pretty women
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nobody asked, i know, but heres my departments thus far! (with nicknames, of course)
note! i do use mods, one of them being the ultimate fashion corp mod from reddit, a mod that lets you keep your employees after you reset a run, and some other useful ones
also its under the cut because uh- long
control team! (aka the OGS! (because control team is the first department people unlock when starting a run))
morty (former employee)
-may the brave fool rest, gone, but not forgotten.
rootieee (captain)
-its, its my self insert what do i have to sa
paul
-the most boring in the facility (and the most sane one in the department,)
-just wants to do his job correctly.
-not much to say about him, really
maxim (morty’s replacement after he died, rest in piece morty, you were a brave hero, yet a little dumb after trying to fight a green dawn in the early runs i had)
-morty’s big bro, a little sad that morty died but he didn’t know all that much in the facility,
-takes his job too seriously
-usually chills in the main room alot,
shao
-an absolutely innocent baby, even if they some horrifying abnormalities, they would still think of them as cute
-just, likes being here, many friends for them!
-they also like hugs!
igoree (rip)
-the sleepy employee has come back! wowie
-still sleepy and also hungry,
-the one who doesn’t work all that much
-..”how did she.. die? did she just want to? what in the world happened there? is it because of that behaviour adjustment thing?”
“just forget about it and keep working,”
“but, paul im curious-”
“quiet.”
eden
-woooooo returning!
-one of the calmest people in the department
-probably wouldn’t even be phased by the effect [CENSORED] gives her if we had it
“hey uh, eden? i got something to tell you..”
“go on shao,”
“didn’t... something happen to you? h-how are you even-”
“hey hey, dont worry about that! just, make sure you stay safe, alright?”
information team! (aka the threeks! (named by tom, who is dead, an idiot, and couldn’t count))
tom (dead)
-an idiot
-okay moving on
ryn
-the only one with aleph gear, seriously (edit (draft edition): hes the first one with aleph gear after i got nothing there’s gear, the second being daniel)
-chill once you get to know him,
-likes protecting others with his gear, since, you know
mason
-usually anxious, he doesn’t mean to be though!
-”alright calm down.. never mind this is not the time to calm dOW-”
-probably likes ryn??
eugene
-a little bit crazy, yet kind nonetheless!
-hi
-just wants some friends, unfortunately not many people are willing to befriend her due to her kinda crazy nature
-basically someone who cares for everyone in the facility, y e e
(also whats known as a “bow kinnie” to the control team captain) /j
emma
-looks really kind until you try to talk to her, shes an asshole is what im trying to say
-likes to bite things with the sharp teeth she has, because why not
-absolute chaos
ray
-i dont know why she exists, shes just there
safety team! (aka the wind wielders (named by isabel, cause he likes flutes))
isabel
-brother of gregory
-the second innocent bean,,
-likes playing the flute whenever hes done for the day
-i accidentally gave him crumbling armour’s gift
gregory
-brother of isabel
-prefers acting over playing instruments,
-a bit more serious,
neville (prefers nelville)
-an absolutely tired employee, they just like waiting till everyone is done for the day to go home
-they’d be at home if they weren’t forced by their friend to work here
-hates everything right now
ramirez
-the joyful friend
-wanted to work here because of the people here, so many unique faces!
-likes all things unique, she usually loves trying different things that look nothing alike from the things she tried before
khanna
-the mute employee in the facility, uses notes to communicate
-another sane one, yet still kinda nervous
-a bean
training team! (aka “nobody here is fine” (named for the fact that almost everyone is very nervous, and then we got firenze))
hana
-the one thats sad most of the time
-really helpful for when it comes to working on abnormalities!
-gregory has a crush on them (why would you say tha)
sobin
-before you think of him as edgy, hes not all that edgy personality wise, he just likes the aesthetic
-hes just a really chill and friendly dude
-yes, he can see more with the e.g.o outfit hes wearing, it is pretty strange to him though
firenze
-the narcissist, he really thinks hes the king of this department
-hes wrong its actually hana thats the captain of this department
-nobody likes him
daniel
-actually used to be a clerk! the face was a little different then before but hey, thats fine
-the third pure bean
-hes a really good friend to have!
susan
-what can i say about her?
-well i mean
-shes susan
central command team! (aka where is everyone? (due to there being not many agents here))
geminiano
-the most sane one in the facility (while being the dead inside captain)
-really good when it comes to tech
-”oh sh** did anyone check on mika?”
charlotte
-the bald employee, doesn’t mind being bald, that just means she can take care of the “your bald” abnormality
-”ignore the second mouth i got on my armour, please”
-plays vibe games on roblox
mika
-absolutely. chill
-doesn’t know where he’s going most of the time
-the one that works on child of galaxy everytime
gimtteol
-really bad sight, she doesn’t mind it
-kalm
-nobody can spell her name right
arang (prefers ayang)
-you thought sobin was the edgelord huh? think again
-easily annoyed.
-also was a clerk before
john
-the newbie!
-hes trying okay?
-hes still a little nervous but thats fine!
disciplinary team! (aka f**k (also nicknamed “why do we have red” due to me choosing little red riding hooded mercenary every run where theres disciplinary))
ara
-angy
-another person that takes their job way too seriously but doesn’t mean to
-not really that rude sometimes, but most of the time she can be a bit of an asshole, probably because of something that happened in the past, nobody wants to talk about it though
-lesbian
camille
-has a slightly torn snake tongue, it makes them not able to speak, they mostly make noises like growling,
-nobody knows why their like this, they just are, but dont be afraid to talk to them if you need anything! they usually write what their trying to say
-the expert, especially at finding things, even if they cant speak
tim
-another returning employee! wooooo
-still dead inside, but feeling a little bit better!
-might be the oldest out of everyone
welfare team! (aka “sleep tight” (nobody knows why its called that)
space
-very calm, most of the time doesn’t mind anything, but still does get a little nervous at times
-nobody knows why her eyes are always closed, (ara specified that her eyes look like a galaxy that can only be opened for a couple of seconds because if she opens them for more than a few seconds they’ll start to glitch, when others see it happening, it looks like the galaxy is becoming more like an image other than a real galaxy, parts of the galaxy become misplaced and reverted back to their original place quickly repeatedly (kinda like the select thing in paint, usually in the shape of the rectangular selection though) and parts of the galaxy turn into static and back very quickly and repeatedly. we she sees it happening her vision becomes the same as how other people see the galaxy when it starts glitching, randomly shifting from original place to different place, or from static back to normal, some ominous, glitchy sounds have been heard when this is happening aswell, (i thought of this because of a small dream(?) i had when i was in a certain state of almost about to fall asleep, maybe i was napping i dont really know, it was a strange dream, i dont remember much of it which is expected, i think it was something about discord and some sort of strange thing that had a little timer on it, and after it was done the thing it was in started glitching, the background it was in and even the button that used to be the timer was glitching, i heard some sounds that were glitching a little (it looked like those screens you see when someone’s streaming something on there,) and then i woke up, yeah kinda weird,)
-like eugene, cares for everyone! especially ara, since space herself is the one who helps ara through tough times
courtney
-gets bored alot, just wants to work on the difficult abnormalities
-really snarky
johnson
-a smartass
-yet still a little friendly if they trust you
-i’ll upgrade them soon dont worry (i have upgraded them/him dont worry)
,
woop!
i’ll probably update this soon, but in the meantime have this, sorry for being dead lately, on both this and my sideblog
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The Journey of a Forgotten Soldier (Levi x OC)
Relationships:
Alana Frey (OC)Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Original Female Character(s)Levi Ackerman/Alana FreyFurlan Church/Original Character(s)Furlan Church/Alana Frey
Characters:
Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)Furlan ChurchIsabel MagnoliaAlana Frey (OC) - CharacterErwin SmithHange ZoëPetra RalGunther SchultzEld JinnOluo BozadoKeith ShadisSpecial Operations Squad | Squad Levi
Additional Tags:
Graphic Description of CorpsesBlood and InjuryViolenceMurder
Summary:
Alana Frey, a girl born in the Underground City, longed to see the true sunlight every morning that she would wake up. Alongside her comrades: Furlan Church, Isabel Magnolia, and Levi, Alana’s life as a thug continued with no way around it; until the sudden day she and her companions were offered the deal of a lifetime.
“Once you complete this job, not only will you be generously compensated for your work,
but you will also earn the right to live above ground.”
Word Count: 2.3k
---
Chapter 13: I’m Not Leaving
Alana’s skin was turning cold and paler as the two conscious soldiers were racing back to the Supply Wagon. Levi let out an annoyed click of his tongue, gripping his reins tighter as he realized how far away they were from base. “Tch, hurry up!” He called to the cadet behind him, “We have to get there before she loses too much blood!” The upset soldier had already lost the other two members of his family, so he was definitely not losing her too.
Both picked up the pace. After a couple of minutes, the brunette, Kurt Grinzor, began to see the grouped Scouts up ahead. “I see them! We’re going to make it!” His voice was shaky, but relieved. The cadet had gone through his own traumatic moments before meeting up with Levi, so he was grateful to see a ray of hope.
Once they finally reached the wagons, the men were greeted by the sights of other wounded or terrified soldiers. With no time wasted, the ravenette quickly ran to the wagon to find medical supplies. However, he struggled trying to find the right materials and bandages. Another soldier witnessed Levi’s troubles and quickly moved to help. The two of them began to try to wrap Alana’s injuries--mainly the other soldier due to Levi’s lack of medical knowledge. Tilting his head down, the silver-eyed man leaned his ear by her face to try and hear her breathing.
Alana’s breath was shallow as she struggled to breathe and her face was contorted in pain. Her long, dark hair had fallen out of its braid, lining around her sweaty face. She was a complete mess compared to her normal, tidy self.
Levi was at a loss of words. So many things had happened to him over the span of a couple of hours. The initial shock of finding his ravenette friend again had worn off as he began processing the fact that they were the only ones left. How was he going to break the news to her about their lost comrades?
How was he going to tell her that he was incapable to protect the man she loved?
“Le...vi?” A small whisper resonated in the air. The mentioned man jerked his head to the voice. His silver eyes were met with bright, diamond blue ones. She looked dazed and unable to focus her vision completely. A stray tear fell from her eye as she cringed in pain. “It... hurts. Where are we…?”
Levi’s calloused hand quickly grasped onto her cold, soft one, giving it a tight squeeze, afraid that she’d disappear if he let go. Words were never his strong suit, but he felt the need to at least say something. “It’s okay, I’m here. We’re heading back soon, and we’ll get you help. Stay with me, got it?”
Her face eased at his words while she gave him a reassuring squeeze of her hand.
[~]
Like Levi had said, the entire Survey Corps began to return to the walls about half an hour later. The raven haired man followed closely to one of the horse drawn wooden wagons that Alana rested in. He made absolute sure that he wouldn’t take his eyes off of her; not even for a second. Thankfully the weather seemed to completely clear up as they continued their journey back. The Scouts were met with an occasional Titan on the way, but none that they couldn't deal with in the end.
As they neared Wall Maria, the Garrison soldiers began to raise the gate. The remaining Scouts were led into the inner safeties of the wall and were greeted by the crowds of civilians belonging to Shiganshina. However, there didn't seem to be a single perky face. Some were screaming the names of their children, their family, or loved one. Some were looking at the injured soldiers with disgust and anger. According to them, the Scouting Legion was nothing more than a joke and a waste of taxes.
To them, everyone should remain inside of the walls.
“Joseph! Joseph, where are you!?” An older lady began shouting from the sides, searching for her son. Slowly, she limped her way towards the moving Scouts and begged them for answers. Unfortunately, she was met with the shake of a head, signalling that her child was one of the many sacrifices for humanity. The woman sank down to her knees and covered her tearfilled face while the rest of the soldiers continued on their way back to headquarters, ignoring most of the screams and cries from the rest.
Alana, though barely holding onto consciousness, was rattled awake from the large bumps of the wagon against the ground. It wasn’t the most comfortable ride, but she had endured worse. Although she couldn’t see completely over the sides of the wooden cart, she was able to see some heads of the civilians. So many of them were angry, but she caught sight of a certain boy, accompanied with a girl, in the crowd, who was trying to sneak a peek at the Scouts.
The youngling had shaggy brown hair and emerald green eyes filled with amazement. A toothy grin was spread widely across his face until he realized how there were certainly less soldiers than there were the day they left. Shock filled his features, though it was obvious he still had admiration for the regiment.
‘He reminds me of Isabel�� she thought to herself as a light smile made its way onto her face. After all, her redheaded sister’s smile was always very contagious.
[~]
Once the Regiment reached their headquarters in the interior of Wall Rose, Levi quietly accompanied Alana to the infirmary room. There were countless injured soldiers being taken care of by the nurses, who were scampering around with medicines and medical supplies. The wounded ravenette was carefully set on one of the beds as they worked to redress her bandages and stitch up her open wounds.
The process seemed to take hours for Levi as he was forced to wait outside until she regained consciousness. He leaned against one of the hallway window sills racking his brain for a way to speak to his female friend. Typically, the silver-eyed thug wouldn’t have a single issue when it came to his blunt, quick remarks, but now he was struggling. Not to mention, he also had to deal with the agonizing pain of losing Furlan and Isabel mere hours ago that was sinking in.
“Yo, Levi,” a voice broke the silence. It was Hanji, who gave him a small wave as she walked down the hallway towards him.
The ravenette’s silver eyes darted towards the sudden noise, recognizing who was speaking. It was the female that he was forced to talk to the previous night. However, this time, he didn’t have Furlan anymore to guide his conversation. Instead, he chose to remain silent, not in the mood at all to talk to her.
“Silent treatment, huh?” Hanji questioned with a half-assed smile as she put her hands on her hips. “I’m happy to hear you survived. You really are the hope of humanity.”
“Shut up, shitty glasses.” He snapped with annoyance.
Her face dropped slightly at his harsh words. Remembering what she came here for, the brunette’s head drooped slightly. “I heard about your friends. I’m really sorry for your losses.”
Levi’s eye twitched at her words. “The hell you are. You don’t give two shits if they survived or not. They were nothing more than death fodder for you.” Although his words were harsh, he couldn’t care less. Instead, he just glared at her with his menacing gray eyes. At this point, he couldn’t help his attitude towards the brunette. Too many things were happening, yet none of them seemed to go in his favor.
“That’s not true! Every soldier here is like family, you included!” She argued back.
“I’m not part of your shitty family, nor will I ever be. Now get the hell away from me.”
Rather than arguing back, Hanji held her tongue and nodded. She was aware of the mental pain and trauma death could cause, not to mention the fact that he wasn’t close to anyone else here other than his injured companion. Turning on her heel, she headed back towards the barracks.
About half an excruciating hour later, the nurses gave him an ‘all clear’ as they allowed him to walk inside of the infirmary rooms. He trudged his way into the room, scrunching his nose at the hospital-esque smell of disinfectants and medicine. While Levi loved having everything spotless, this was definitely not his favorite smell. His steel gray eyes darted around the room, making contact with all of the wounded men and women. They seemed more stabilized now, but most still have faces of discomfort.
But then his eyes met hers.
Alana was in more of a comfortable outfit, stripped of her uniform. Her hair was still down and quite messy and she was sitting up with pillows stacked behind her for comfort. From this position, the bandages wrapped around her were completely visible. Although her face was full of scratches and bruises, she gave her ravenette friend a small smile.
Levi, however, remained quiet as he pulled up a small, wooden stool and sat next to Alana’s bed. His pained eyes watched her carefully, analyzing the poor girl’s injuries. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if I were able to keep all of them safe. If only I had stopped them from coming along.’ He thought.
“Levi? What’s wrong? Do I really look that bad?”
“You look like shit.” He replied nonchalantly.
“Ouch, you don’t have to be like that,” she strainfully laughed. “Where are Furlan and Isabel?”
His breath hitched in his throat. Though he tried to picture a response earlier, nothing was coming to his brain now. Her eyes were so pure and innocent. Her angelic smile wasn’t prepared for the news. However, he had to say it somehow.
“They’re gone.”
Die Stühle liegen sehr eng
You and I talk all the night long
Alana’s face dropped and she gave him a blank stare. “What… What did you say?”
“They died during the expedition.” He responded with as straight of a face as he could manage, though his voice was low and pained. Behind his hard, steel-gray eyes, millions of emotions were threatening to flood out.
Dieser niedrige Raum ist nicht schlecht
We comrades have stories to tell
“You’re kidding, right?” But deep inside, she knew he wasn’t joking. Levi was always a blunt and serious man; he hardly ever joked around. Before she knew it, tears shone in the corners of the girl’s eyes. “I bet… I bet that they’re outside right now.” Her voice trembled as she kept talking. It was a strong habit of hers to try to smile and talk during a sad situation, but this had hit differently.
This time, half of her family was gone.
So ist es immer, that in the evening time
We drink and we sing when our fighting is done
Alana’s clenched onto her hospital blankets tightly. A small whimper left her throat and she squeezed her eyes together, trying to block off her threatening tears. “It’s just… It’s just a joke.” She sobbed out as her breathing became more rapid while her hands searched for something to grab onto, resulting in her tightly hugging herself. On the verge of a panic attack, the ravenette began picking and scratching at her restricting bandages around her arms while trying to pry them off. “They’re not- they can’t be.” She sobbed, now switching to pulling at the loose strands of her hair with her shaking hands.
So ist es immer, we live under the burnt clouds
Ease our burden, long is the night
“It’s not.” He fought back, clenching his jaw tightly.
“They’re not dead!” She snapped her head towards him and screamed through a cry, not caring that there were others around them. “They’re not, they’re not, they’re not! Stop fucking telling me lies, Levi!” With bared teeth, Alana gave him a deadly glare, but behind her threatening eyes, pain was completely evident.
“Lana…” He mumbled, not knowing how to help the trembling girl. “I made the wrong choice-”
Da die Sterne nicht leuchten
We are stars and we'll beam on our town
“I said stop!” Her hands flew up to her necklace, gripping it for dear life. It took her a couple more deep breaths--a grounding technique of hers--to calm herself as much as she could manage. Once the fight had left her gaze seconds later, Alana pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes to try and conceal her tears. “Please…” she begged, substantially quieter, “just stop.”
Levi’s mouth snapped shut at her plea. Never had he seen his friend act this way, even in the Underground. Besides, he hasn’t been able to mentally recover from the difficult blow either. Instead, he stood from his chair and awkwardly engulfed Alana into a side hug. One of his arms snaked around the smaller girl’s waist and the other gently wrapped around her head. He calmly and lightly threaded his rough fingers in her silky black hair. While he was never one for physical affection, this time was different. He didn’t want to let go.
Not again.
“I’m here,” he mumbled against the top of the shaking girl’s head. “And I’m not leaving.”
Although it wasn’t much, the younger girl found comfort in his embrace--as well as words. When she nuzzled her face into his chest, the smell of peppermint and cedar were still prominent to her, despite the fact that he didn’t have the chance to bathe since the beginning of the expedition. Recognizing the familiar smell and being engulfed by his warmth, she left the remainder of tears stream out until her eyes were red and dry.
Schauten wir das Licht selbst an
Sing with hope and the fear will be gone
---
(A/N) As much as I hate to say it, this is the last chapter I had prewritten since I've started. Starting now, this may be done sporadically or--at the worst--left on hiatus for a while. I've been decently busy in life and I just need to catch up on all of my things (including waiting for SnK manga and anime). For all of you now, thank you for sticking with this story and supporting me! It means more than I could ever express through my words. Love you all <3
Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13
#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan#levi#levi ackerman#fanfic#levi x oc#oc#attack on titan fanfiction#levi ackerman x oc#furlan church#isabel magnolia#alana frey
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Title: A Wonderful Institution Artist: @bidnezz Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, various background pairings Word Count: ~53k Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, discrimination against Downworlders, reference to rape, Clave-typical homophobia, implied character death, minor character death Summary: Magnus doesn’t have time for this bullshit. Warlocks are disappearing in New York City—five people in less than three months—and Magnus is determined to find them and protect the rest of his people from whatever took them. He doesn’t have time for politics, and he certainly doesn’t have time for whatever nonsense the Clave is proposing about marrying a Shadowhunter to a Downworlder as part of the new Accords. He doesn’t really have time for a pretty Shadowhunter who’s surprisingly kind to warlock children, either, but, well, he’s always been good at multitasking.
Alec always knew he couldn’t have what he wanted, but he’s spent the nearly four years since the newly-appointed Consul recalled his parents to Idris without explanation making the best of what he can have. When life suddenly offers up almost everything Alec actually wants on a silver platter, he can’t quite bring himself to trust it, especially when it comes with a million caveats and a side of impending disaster. But he knows how to handle disasters, even if the return of the Circle on top of Clave secrets that could destroy the Accords is way beyond the disasters he’s used to fielding. Hope, on the other hand? He doesn’t know what to do with that.
This fic was created for the @malecdiscordserver Mini Bang 2020.
Chapter Six
“Knock knock, big brother,” Izzy said, opening the door to Alec’s office.
Since their parents’ departure hours earlier, Alec had hidden himself in his office, citing the need to fill out all the paperwork required to officially install him as Head of the Institute and to plan a wedding that was apparently happening in less than a week. In reality, he’d gotten almost no paperwork done, as lost in thought as he was, and he’d only considered and then immediately abandoned the idea of texting Magnus about the wedding planning at least a dozen times.
“Come in,” Alec said, sounding just as exhausted as he felt.
“I didn’t realize paperwork could be quite so taxing,” Izzy said, entering the office and shutting the door behind her. “I thought you’d be happy to finally have some recognition that you’ve been running this place for years. Or is this just what wedding planning does to you?”
“I wish that’s all it was.” It wasn’t a decision he needed to think about, not really. There were two people in the Institute he knew without question weren’t working for Valentine, and Jace was too caught up in his new obsession with the redheaded mundane for Alec to trust his judgment at the moment.
“That sounds ominous,” Izzy said, perching on the edge of his desk. “What’s up?”
“Valentine Morgenstern is alive and searching for the Mortal Cup in New York. The Consul believes the Circle may have already infiltrated the Institute.” He considered telling her the rest, about Consul Dieudonné and about their parents, but he was still too angry to talk about it. “We need to keep that last part quiet, because I don’t know who we can trust, but we have to find the Mortal Cup before the Circle does.”
“Then we’d better get to work,” Izzy said. “Do you think this could have anything to do with the Circle members who came after Clary Fray?”
Alec wanted to say no, because the last thing he needed was for Jace to think he’d done the right thing in bringing the girl to the Institute without even consulting Alec first. “I don’t know,” he said instead. “It would be a pretty big coincidence if they’re unrelated, though.”
“Then we should talk to Clary,” Izzy said. “She just woke up. That’s what I was coming to tell you. Jace is with her.”
“What has she said?” Alec demanded. “If she is involved, it’s possible she’s a spy for Valentine.”
“That would be a really complicated way to send a spy,” Izzy pointed out. “And I doubt she learned much while she was unconscious.”
“She still showed up out of nowhere right when we got word the Circle is in New York,” Alec said. “And she was supposedly raised as a mundane, but she can bear runes and use seraph blades? That’s all kinds of suspicious. There’s no such thing as new Shadowhunters.”
“Maybe there is now,” Izzy said with a shrug.
“All right, let’s find out what this not-a-mundane has to say for herself.”
They found Jace and Clary Fray along with yet another mundane in the ops center.
“Why is there another mundane in my Institute?” Alec demanded.
“Please excuse my brother’s lack of manners,” Izzy said, stepping forward. “This is Alec.” She held out her hand to the new mundane. “And I’m Isabelle.”
“Lewis,” the mundane said, looking more than a little dazed. “Simon, Simon Lewis. Two first names. Am I still talking?”
“Unfortunately for all of us, yes,” Alec said. He looked at Jace. “What’s going on here?”
“There was a Circle member outside looking for Clary,” Jace explained, “and the mundane saw. He’s her friend, or whatever.”
“Of course there was,” Alec muttered. If the girl was a Circle spy, this was a good way for Valentine to give her cover, pretending the Circle was after her. If she wasn’t, though, that meant the Circle really did want her, and if the Circle wanted her, then Alec was going to do everything in his power to keep them from getting her. And then there was the matter of what his parents said about Circle members looking in New York for someone who knew the location of the Mortal Cup.
“I need to find my mother,” Clary said. “Jace said you guys could help me.”
“If the Circle really is hunting you,” Alec said, “then our first priority is keeping you out of their hands. Do you know why they’re after you?”
“The thing at our apartment, the demon, it said something about a cup?” Clary answered. “But I don’t know anything about any cup.”
Dammit, dammit, dammit. But this put them one step ahead of Valentine, at least, because they had Clary, and that meant the Circle didn’t. Assuming she was telling the truth.
“And what is this Circle you all keep talking about?” Clary continued. “Why would they want to take my mom?”
“A group of rogue Shadowhunters,” Jace explained. “Almost twenty years ago, a man named Valentine Morgenstern led the Circle in an Uprising to stop the signing of the Accords between the Clave and the Downworld.”
“The Circle didn’t just want to stop the Accords,” Alec added. “They wanted to wipe out the entire Downworld.”
“That’s horrible,” Clary said, “but I still don’t understand what that has to do with me or my mom.”
“The Circle is looking for the Mortal Cup,” Alec said. “And if what that demon said is anything to go by, it sounds like they think you know where it is.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Clary said. “I don’t even know what a Mortal Cup is, let alone where to find it. Why would the Circle think I do?”
“That’s what we have to figure out,” Izzy said, putting a hand on Clary’s shoulder. “But if the Circle wants you and your mom, then we’re going to keep you safe and get her back.”
“I had a dream about my mother,” Clary said, as if suddenly remembering. “But I don’t know if it was an actual dream, or… I have dreams sometimes that I think might actually be memories. I’ve had a bunch recently, some of them with a man who my mother tells to take my memories. And this was like that, but different. I think… I know this sounds crazy, but I think maybe I was seeing my mom as she is now. She was asleep, and there was a man I didn’t recognize. And Dot was there, but she was in chains, and I think she and my mom are in serious trouble. You have to help me find them.”
“A man taking your memories could have been a warlock,” Jace suggested. “They have spells that can take a person’s memories. That might be somewhere to start.”
“For that, we’d have to find the warlock who took her memories,” Alec pointed out. “And if the Circle is looking for her, it could be dangerous to go looking. Especially if the Circle is somehow involved in the recent warlock disappearances.”
“Maybe another warlock could at least tell if it was a warlock who took Clary’s memories,” Izzy said, looking at Alec. “You could ask Magnus.”
“I’m not going to just start asking Magnus for favors,” Alec said. “That would set a bad precedent.”
“Wait, Magnus?” Clary said. “In my dream, my mom called the man who took my memories Magnus.”
Izzy gave Alec a long look, as if to say I told you so.
“Fine,” Alec said. “I’ll talk to Magnus and see if he’s willing to help. But not at,” he checked the time on the nearest screen, “four-thirty in the morning.”
“But who is Magnus?” Clary wanted to know.
“Magnus Bane is the High Warlock of Brooklyn,” Alec said, at the same time Izzy said, “Alec’s fiancé.”
Alec shot his sister a fierce glare.
“Oh,” Clary said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Um, congratulations?” she offered Alec.
“I’m going to catch a few hours of sleep,” Alec said, ignoring her. “You two, keep the redhead out of trouble and inside the Institute.” He looked at the other mundane. “And do something about that one, while you’re at it.”
Magnus had been surprised but not displeased by the text that he’d gotten a few hours earlier— I need to see you, are you busy? He had, of course, been busy, as he always was these days, but he was able to finish up what he was doing sooner than he’d anticipated, giving him nearly two hours to wait back at the loft to wonder what Alexander wanted.
It was probably about the drastically shortened timeline for the wedding. Magnus hadn’t been pleased at all when he’d received a fire message about that at some ungodly hour of the morning. And what a way to be woken up. He both hoped and feared that with the wedding suddenly impending, Alexander was having second thoughts. It would, of course, cause a bit of a scandal, and might delay the signing of the Accords if one of them were to pull out now, but Magnus was fairly confident that he could smooth things over with the Clave.
He hated that a part of him was disappointed by the prospect.
Magnus was so lost in his thoughts that he jumped when a knock came at the door. He took a moment to straighten his waistcoat before opening the door wide.
“Alexander!” he greeted with a wide smile. Then he took in fact that Alec was very much not alone, and his smile faded into a confused frown. “And friends. This is a surprise.” He stepped back into the loft, gesturing the group inside.
A short, redheaded girl stopped in front of him and glared up into his face. “So you’re the one who stole my memories.”
“Who—” Magnus started, and then recognition hit him. She was older than last time he’d seen her, but there was no mistaking that face, especially not with her chin raised in defiance in a posture so like her mother’s it was uncanny. “Clary Fairchild,” he said. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.”
“Clary Fray,” Clary corrected, and Magnus simply nodded. Jocelyn’s secrets weren’t his to tell.
“Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression when I texted,” Alec said. “We’re here about Clary’s memories. We have reason to believe she might know where the Mortal Cup is, and the Circle is hunting both Clary and the Cup.”
“I had heard something to that effect,” Magnus said. “I hadn’t realized you were involved, Alexander.”
“Can you two catch up later?” Clary asked. “I need my memories back so I can find my mother.” She turned to Magnus. “What will it take for you to give them back to me?”
“I wish I could retrieve your memories,” Magnus said carefully, “but I no longer have them.”
“What?” Clary demanded. “Where are they?”
“I fed them to a memory demon for safekeeping,” Magnus explained.
“And why the hell would you do that?” Jace demanded angrily.
“To protect Clary and the Cup,” Magnus said with forced patience. “If the Circle ever captured me, they could torture Clary’s memories out of me.”
“And if you give them back to her, they can torture them out of her,” Alec said. “It wasn’t a bad plan, but now we need to know where the Cup is so we can keep it safe. So, is there a way to get the memories back?”
“We could summon the demon I fed them to,” Magnus said, “but it would be dangerous. Summoning such a powerful demon could be lethal.”
“I’ll do anything to save my mother,” Clary broke in. “Where is the demon?”
Magnus regarded her for a long moment. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, and he in no way liked the idea of handing the Mortal Cup back to the Clave, but if there was any Shadowhunter he was willing to trust with it, it was Alec, and he couldn’t find it in his heart to deny Clary’s desperate request. He knew what it was like to lose a mother, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
“Get your team ready,” he told Alec, then turned to Clary. “Come with me.”
They could use the guest room for the summoning. His office might be better equipped, but Magnus had already started to clear out the guest room in case Alec really did move in, so the space was relatively empty, while his office was most decidedly not.
“A lot of people want the Mortal Cup,” Magnus said as he led Clary into the guest room. Once he was sure the Shadowhunters weren’t paying attention to the conversation, he added, “Don’t trust anyone, especially not the Clave.”
Clary looked at him in surprise. “Don’t trust the Clave? I thought you and Alec were—”
“Alexander is not the Clave,” Magnus interrupted her, and he wondered when exactly he’d come to that conclusion. “But just because I trust him doesn’t mean that you should.”
Clary considered that. “Then why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t,” he told her. “Only trust yourself.”
“I don’t understand you,” she said, shaking her head. “You tell me not to trust anyone but myself, but you admit to trusting Alec. If it’s so dangerous for me to trust anyone, wouldn’t the same be true of you? You helped my mother hide the Mortal Cup by taking my memories.”
“Who I do and don’t trust isn’t your concern,” Magnus told her. He picked up the set of chalks he used for drawing sigils and handed it to her. “Let’s get to work.”
Summoning the demon that had Clary’s memories proved both easier and more difficult than Alec expected. Easier, because the danger Magnus had warned of never materialized. More difficult because each of them had to give up a memory of the person they loved most, and the feeling of having given up something that precious but not being able to remember what he’d given up was distinctly unpleasant. Not to mention that the entire process left Clary delirious and barely conscious.
Alec watched Jace hover over Clary on the couch, reflecting on how much more difficult this would have been a year or two earlier. Before he’d taken over the day-to-day operations of running the Institute, before he and Izzy had really grasped that their parents weren’t coming back from Idris, at least not in any kind of permanent sense, he’d thought he was in love with Jace. It had been easy to believe. Jace had been—still was—beautiful and intense and a highly competent Shadowhunter. It was easy to mistake an adolescent crush for love, especially with how close the two of them became as they trained to become parabatai. But then Alec’s parents had gone away, and suddenly he found himself with the responsibility of running an Institute, and effectively acting as a parent figure to Izzy, and he was able to start seeing his infatuation for what it was.
His younger self would have no doubt been jealous of the attention Jace paid to Clary. Now, at least, he only had to worry about his parabatai’s obvious feelings for a girl who was at best someone being hunted by the Circle. He didn’t want to think about what it would do to Jace if Clary turned out to be a Circle spy.
He felt Magnus step up beside him. “You should sit down while Clary recovers from having all those memories dumped back in her mind,” Magnus said. “A summoning like that can take a lot out of you.”
“Shouldn’t you be taking your own advice?” Alec asked, turning to look at him. Magnus somehow didn’t look nearly as drained as the rest of them. It was possible he really was less tired, but Alec suspected it was just his uncanny and deeply unfair ability to look good in any situation.
“I do this kind of thing all the time,” Magnus said with a shrug. “The rest of you aren’t used to it.”
“I’ll sit down if you do,” Alec offered.
“Fine,” Magnus said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “If you insist.”
They made their way over to two empty armchairs in the living room, seated close to one another. Izzy was already seated in one of the other chairs, closer to the couch.
“This gives us the opportunity to talk about the wedding, anyway,” Magnus said as they sat down.
“Do we have to?” Alec asked with a pained face. “I think I’m suddenly feeling that exhaustion you were talking about a minute ago.”
“Alec spent half of last night looking over the Clave’s proposals for the wedding,” Izzy chimed in. It wasn’t exactly true, but he had looked them over briefly, and it felt like he’d done it for hours. “You should have seen his face.”
“Always a lovely sight,” Magnus said, and Alec was too tired to fight the flush in his cheeks.
“What did you want to talk about?” Alec asked, hoping to change the subject from his looks. If it meant talking about the wedding, so be it.
“Mostly that it’s happening so soon,” Magnus said. “When you contacted me earlier, I assumed that’s what you wanted to see me about.”
“I would have contacted you about that,” Alec said, “but I got a little distracted by Clary Fray.”
“Fairchild,” Magnus corrected. “She’ll remember this now, I’m sure, but her name is Clary Fairchild. Her mother is Jocelyn Fairchild.”
“Fairchild is a Shadowhunter name,” Izzy said, and she shot Alec a smug glance.
“Indeed, it is,” Magnus agreed. “Jocelyn was a Shadowhunter. Is a Shadowhunter. She was unfortunate enough to at one time be married to Valentine Morgenstern, and when things got bad during the Uprising, she left him and went into hiding. Even after the Circle was vanquished, she stayed hidden. I don’t think she was ever as confident in Valentine’s death as the Clave was.”
“Even if she thought he was probably dead, she might have been afraid at even a chance he wasn’t,” Izzy said. “If Jocelyn knows where the Mortal Cup is, that could be why she never came out of hiding.”
“Or perhaps she merely wanted to protect her daughter,” Magnus said. “I’m not sure having me take Clary’s memories was the best way to do that, but Jocelyn did seem very concerned for the girl’s safety when she brought her to me.”
“We’d better hope Jocelyn doesn’t know where the Cup is,” Alec said, “because from what Clary saw in her vision, it sounds an awful lot like the Circle has her.”
Magnus frowned. “Clary’s vision? What vision?”
Alec and Izzy gave him a quick rundown of what Clary had told them back at the Institute about her dream that didn’t seem like a dream.
“And she saw Dorothea with them as well?” he asked. “This is bad. Dot stayed with Jocelyn and Clary to protect them. If she’s been taken, as well, then we really are all that’s left to protect Clary from the Circle.”
“Clary did say Jocelyn was sleeping in her vision, though,” Izzy reminded him. “And it seemed like the man was trying to wake her up. Maybe she did something to herself, to keep the Circle from being able to force her to reveal the location of the Cup.”
“Perhaps,” Magnus said. “If so, let’s hope it was nothing permanent. I’d hate to think Clary has gone through all of this to find her mother only for her mother to be unreachable when we finally do find her.”
“I don’t realize this would hurt so much.” Clary’s voice, soft and trembling from where she lay on the couch, was more unsure than Alec had ever heard it. “There’s so much here, and it’s so hard to sort through it all.”
“Take it easy, Biscuit,” Magnus told her, rising to join Jace by the couch. “Don’t push yourself. It’s good that you’re as lucid as you are so quickly. The rest will come in time.”
“I can't—” Clary shook her head. “I can’t remember anything about the Mortal Cup. I’m trying to remember, anything at all my mom said about a cup, but I’m coming up blank.”
“Take your time,” Jace told her.
“I don’t have time!” Clary snapped. “I have to find my mother before something terrible happens to her!”
Jace made a placating gesture, but Alec spoke before he could say anything.
“What about Valentine or the Circle? Do you have any memories of your mother mentioning them?”
“I think,” Clary said slowly. “I think she did mention Valentine. More than once. Never when she knew I could hear, but I remember her talking to Dot. Not enough that I could understand. I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t realize it was important. But there was another time when she was talking to Luke, and she thought I was asleep and—” She stopped, suddenly pale. “Oh no. No no no.”
“Clary what is it?” Jace asked, resting a hand on her arm.
“It’s all right, Biscuit,” Magnus soothed. “Tell us what you remember.”
“It’s Valentine,” she whispered, looking up at Jace as though he could fix whatever horror she’d discovered in her own memories. “He’s my father.”
Clary looked absolutely crushed, but Magnus nodded like he wasn’t surprised by this information. Which, maybe he wasn’t, Alec reflected. If he’d known this whole time Jocelyn had been married to Valentine, maybe he’d already suspected Clary was Valentine’s daughter.
Alec’s mind was racing. Clary being Valentine’s daughter should have made it more likely she was a Circle spy, but Magnus corroborated her story of lost memories, and Alec didn’t believe for a second that Magnus was working with Valentine. Which meant that the Circle really was hunting Clary, even though it turned out she didn’t know anything about the Mortal Cup. But maybe that didn’t matter to Valentine. Maybe he wanted his daughter as much as he wanted the Cup.
“There’s something else,” Clary said. “Another time I remember Mom talking to Dot about Valentine. Dot said she couldn’t make the potion Mom wanted, that it wasn’t her area of expertise, and Mom said she needed it in case Valentine found us.”
“Jocelyn never asked me for any potion,” Magnus said, frowning.
“Dot said she knew someone who could help, and she mentioned a name.” Clary’s brow creased as she fought to remember. “Ragnor Fell.”
“Ragnor Fell?” Magnus asked, looking affronted. “He’ll ignore my invitations for over a decade, but he’ll do jobs for a Shadowhunter? I see how it is.”
“I don’t really think that’s the most important thing here,” Jace commented.
Magnus threw him a withering look. “Which just goes to show how little you know. But I’ll contact Ragnor and see if he made a potion for Jocelyn. If it was some kind of protection against Valentine or the Circle, it might give us some clue to finding her or the Mortal Cup.”
“Or if we’re lucky, both,” Izzy added.
“We can’t count on luck,” Alec said. “Now that we know who Clary’s mother is, we might be able to find something useful in the Clave’s files.” Or maybe his parents would know something about Jocelyn that could help find her. He wasn’t ready to talk to them again, but if they’d been in the Circle, surely they’d have known Valentine’s wife.
“And Clary will be safer back at the Institute,” Jace said, earning himself a dirty look from Magnus.
Privately, Alec agreed, but he wasn’t about to say it out loud.
“Thank you for your help,” he told Magnus instead. “We wouldn’t have Clary’s memories without you.”
“I’d do a great deal more if it meant keeping the Mortal Cup out of the Circle’s hands,” Magnus said.
“If you’re not too tired from the summoning, would you make us a portal back to the Institute?” Alec asked. “Under the circumstances, it’s the safest way to get Clary there.”
“Alexander,” Magnus said, “a little summoning of a greater demon isn’t enough to keep me from creating a portal.”
“We appreciate it,” Alec said. “And if you send your bill directly to me, I’ll see that it gets paid. I’d rather keep this quiet for now.”
“Of course,” Magus said, as though it were the most reasonable thing in the world that Alec was keeping secrets from other Shadowhunters at his own Institute. “And I’ll contact you as soon as I’ve had a chance to talk to Ragnor.” He paused, eyes flickering away for just a moment in what Alec almost thought might be nervousness. “And maybe we can discuss the wedding then?”
“Yeah,” Alec agreed. “If we don’t talk about it, then the whole thing is just going to be what the Council wants, and I doubt either of us wants them writing our wedding vows.”
Magnus made an exaggerated wince, but he seemed more relaxed. “I shudder to imagine what they might include.”
After portaling back to the Institute, Alec helped Jace get Clary set up in one of the empty rooms. If she was going to be staying at the Institute for a while, it only made sense that she have her own room. Jace offered to stay with her while she continued recovering from having her memories returned, and Alec couldn’t think of any reason to tell him not to that wouldn’t start a fight, so he agreed.
When he returned to his office, Alec was unsurprised to find Izzy leaning against his desk. He closed the door behind him.
“Are you convinced yet that she’s not a spy?” she asked, tone almost teasing.
“Yes,” Alec said, “but that doesn’t mean she’s not trouble.”
“Are you talking about the Circle, or the way Jace looks at her?”
“Both,” Alec said, dropping into his favorite chair. “Plus, you know, that whole thing where she’s Valentine’s daughter.”
“Jace is a big boy,” Izzy said, easily pinpointing what he was most worried about. “He can take care of himself. Besides, you should be happy Jace is interested in someone besides himself for once.”
Alec made a noncommittal noise, not wanting to talk about it any further. Izzy walked over and sat on the arm of his chair, leaning against him in a gesture of support. Alec leaned back, grateful for her presence.
“So,” Izzy said after a few minutes of silence, tapping his leg with the toe of her boot, “Magnus looked nice today.”
“Magnus always looks nice,” Alec said without thinking, then immediately tried to cover it. “I mean, he’s very good at dressing himself.”
Izzy burst out laughing. “He’s very good at dressing himself, really?” Her laughter faded to a soft smile. “It’s okay to think your fiancé is hot, Alec.”
“It’s not like that,” he protested, looking away. “This marriage is about the Accords. That doesn’t change just because the person I’m marrying is Magnus.”
“Doesn’t it?” she asked, and he hated how unsure he was of the honest answer.
“It can’t,” he told her. “Whatever is or isn’t between me and Magnus, it has to be separate from this marriage. I can’t let my feelings jeopardize the Accords.”
Izzy looked like she wanted to argue, but she just leaned over and kissed his temple before standing to leave. “Just don’t forget while you’re busy doing things for everyone else that it’s okay to do things for yourself sometimes.”
Alec didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t even know what it meant to do something for himself anymore.
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Parting the veil - Spaus
Fandom: Hetalia Pairing: Spaus, (Spain / Austria) Word count: 2319 Rating: All audiences Warnings: Historicised attitudes towards Islam do not reflect the author’s views. Summary: Roderich isn't the best at travelling. Still, he'd gladly do so in order to spend time with his new husband. The Spanish landscape betrays things about Antonio he'd rather keep silent himself. It seems like Antonio has separated himself from his past through a sheer curtain and when visiting Roderich feels like he can almost see through it, see the ghosts that move on the other side. Everything is so foreign to him, will he be able to eventually harmonize with Antonio? Read on AO3: X
I was requested to write a Spaus drabble, apparently, I can’t write drabbles and instead put out a whole ass fic. So um- have this? @fandomghost I hope you like it. Special shoutout to @katemarley for recommending me Innsbruck ich muss dich lassen when I was nerding to her about German renaissance music <3
At least there were mountains. Roderich was grateful for the snowy peaks of the Pyrenees that decorate the horizon visible from his window. They were the only familiar sight because he was in all other aspects “fast entheimt”. Unfortunately, now that they had reached Zaragoza, a city with a name so foreign that he wouldn’t have discredited as the name of an ancient Persian magician in a novel, the mountains were far more distant and only visible on clear days. The name of the city wasn’t the only thing that was foreign to him, when he and his consorts had crossed the mountains he had felt like the very bedrock that Spain was made of was unlike his own, down to the small crocus like flowers that bloomed in the meadows that their guide had explained to him were rare ‘false saffron’. In Zaragoza, he’d been given a room in the palace of the catholic monarchs that had taken residence there after Isabel I of Castile had married Ferdinand II of Aragon but that in the streets was still referred to by the people as the palace of Aljaféria. Though that royal marriage had unified Spain and was the reason he could stay there to visit his Antonio, Aragon was by no means gone. Her belongings and her culture were still found all over the province. However, he wasn’t to meet her until later that month. He felt like in a way, simply by travelling the land he already had met her. She wasn’t the only shadow of a nation that he felt. Besides Spain, that is to say, Castile and Aragon, there was a third presence within these castle walls, an invisible presence, a ghost from the past.
Roderich had never fully realised the reality of the occupation by Arabic forces in the peninsula. When he had Antonio in front of him in Aachen, a fierce proprietor of Christendom, speaking Latin with a quintessentially Romanesque tongue… He had somehow thought that as the occupiers left the peninsula, Antonio was a roman again. That when they left, they took everything with them, left no traces, that whatever was left was carefully purged by his new husband. Yet these walls told a different story. In a moment where he’d been free to roam the halls, he’d let himself be spellbound by the strange arabesque masonry, the ever-spiralling geometrical decorative patterning in the friezes, the archways, the capitals. One gallery from where he could reach the stonework, he had secretly pressed his fingers against it, half expecting it to give way like bee’s wax due to how much it resembled a honeycomb. He let out a quivering breath and whispered the name: the Umayyad dynasty, the caliphate of Cordoba. That strange shadow that seemed to hide in the corners in the palace. Had he made a mistake when marrying Antonio? How much of his husband was still Moorish?
Antonio was always secretive and defensive about his time isolated from the rest of them. Roderich never pressed him for answers. He’d lie in bed next to him and watch Antonio’s quiet breathing and think to himself that Antonio must’ve suffered a lot. Yet he looked at how his own hand looked like porcelain against Antonio’s chest, and he wondered.
These thoughts were tumbling over each other as he was staring out the window, his letter to the bishop abandoned in front of him as his quill was resting idly between his fingers. He felt sick to the stomach again, he’d always get such bad Heimweh, if only Toni could just always visit him in Austria… that would be a perfect world.
“Ah, there you are!”
Antonio snapped him out of his reverie by materializing in the doorframe and looking at him like he was trying to figure him out, like studying a puzzling little flower, like a false saffron, and wondering whether it was edible or not.
“Have you truly been cooped up in here all-day writing? Come, this won’t do, come out and catch some fresh air.”
He’d already strode over and made to pull Roderich along by the arm despite the young man’s protests that it was too hot outside and that he’d tan.
“I gathered some courtiers, we’re going to play music in the courtyard. If you sit in the gallery you won’t tan. Just join it’ll be great. Did you play that Viol a lot?”
‘That viol’ was the lovely Soprano viol that Antonio had given to Roderich when they parted ways after their second visit. Roderich had been familiar with the more European Vieille already and had taken to the instrument like he’d never played anything else. It helped that it was a gift from Antonio, so whenever he missed him too much he could take out the viol, lovingly caress the little wooden face that was carved into the end of the neck with incredible craftmanship, and then by playing and studying bring Antonio a little closer. He’d carefully press down on the strings and would imagine Toni listening and smiling. He’d been playing it when sad or lonely so often he started to feel like he expressed his feelings better through music than through words. So to Antonio’s question, he gave a firm affirmative nod and looked at the case that contained it when he brought it with him here.
“Well bring it! I want to hear!”
Roderich’s heart quickened. He had fantasized about what would happen if he’d play in front of Antonio, that Antonio would listen and understand- that he could say what he wanted to say without words. That Antonio instantly recognised that he’d studied hard just to please him. But now that the moment was here, he felt suddenly nervous.
“Ah, very well, I’ll play for you. But not for your court.”
Antonio looked a little taken aback but then agreed with a smile
“We’ll have fewer instruments then, but it agrees with me.”
Roderich tried to read Antonio and see if he wasn’t upset but he couldn’t tell. He took the dear instrument and tagged along, all the while trying not to be deafened by his heart nervously pounding in his ears. Antonio retrieved his vihuela de mano from the group of courtiers and declared they wouldn’t be joining them until later. They seemed a little disappointed, but Roderich observed from the doorway that the confident way in which Antonio declared he wouldn’t be present, rather than asked to be forgiven for not joining made no one even think of questioning him. He smiled; this is what he adored in Antonio.
Antonio took him to one of the palaces many open courtyards and sat him down underneath the strange honeycomb arches on a railing. With just the two of them in an enclosed garden Roderich thought of the many courtly romance novels he’s read and blushed a bit. Antonio caught on and with a grin took his hand and kissed it.
“So, are we going to play music? Or was this all an elaborate plan of yours so we could exchange kisses?”
Antonio was already scooting a bit closer and his smirk grew. Roderich frowned as his blush deepened but couldn’t hide a smile.
“Don’t tease me, Antonio.”
He leaned in and gave Antonio a small kiss on the cheek.
“I had every intention to play music for you."
Antonio nodded and sat back a bit and gave Roderich a tender smile that sent a warmth spreading through his chest. Roderich got in position and put the viol between his legs. He took a deep breath and took the bow to the strings. He took a deep breath and started to sing. It was the song he’d been singing ever since Innsbruck’s precious valley had been swallowed between the pine trees as they had crossed that fateful bend in the road that meant saying goodbye. Roderich had never been good at travel, he was in his essence a very rooted person. He needed the mountains, the pine trees, the fresh crisp winter air, he needed his home. At first, he had thought that this crippling nervousness that took hold of him when he was in unfamiliar territory had to do with the type of creature that he was: wouldn’t it make sense for countries to have to be close to their lands? But the more other’s he met, the more he learned that isn’t necessarily the case. He sang the first tender lines of ‘Innsbruck ich muss dich lassen’, which he had been practising to bring him solace ever since he had left. He had adapted the original choral piece by giving the higher register to his viol and himself singing a fragile tenor second voice.
“ISbruck, ich muß dich lassen ich far do hin mein strassen in fremde land do hin mein freud ist mir genomen die ich nit weiß bekummen wo ich jm elend bin.”
It had every property of a learned piece of music, despite its secular subject. In his opinion, the choral harmonies showed a Pythagorean harmony and evoked the harmonies of heaven. It was in every aspect a thing of technical ingenuity. But it was out of place. Singing about Innsbruck and his land in the Spanish summer heat just fell flat. All the emotion he could usually put into it, about missing home and struggling with travel didn’t seem to communicate either.
“Groß leid muß ich yetz tragen das ich allein thu klagen dem liebsten bůlen mein ach lieb nun laß mich armen im hertzen dein erbarmen das ich muß von dannen sein.”
The second verse, about parting from your lover was yet another thing very recognisable for him, as he and Antonio often spent large stretches apart from one another. Antonio, however, seemed more concerned with picking dirt out from under his nails than listening. He knew Antonio didn’t know much German, but he hoped he would at least get the gist of it. His voice wavered slightly as he tried to keep Antonio invested in the music all through the last verse.
“Meyn trost ob allen weyben dein thu ich ewig pleyben stet trew der eren frumm nun muß dich Gott bewaren in aller thugent sparen biß das ich wider kumm.”
A pledge of faithfulness to the one you’re leaving. It was silent for a moment between them after he finished and Roderich felt like he’d swallowed a brick. Antonio perked up again and took his vihuela.
“You did not enjoy it.”
He must’ve looked hurt because Antonio winced and reassuringly pet his hand.
“Ah no! It was good! I could tell it was technically perfect.”
Antonio was a terrible liar though and with one stern look, Roderich managed to get him to sigh and tell the truth.
“It was just- all the same. And a bit sad, but mostly just that it was the same thing three times, and all the rhythm stayed the same and the distance between the cords stayed the same… It made me feel like I was either at church or just- really bored.”
Roderich was confused, “But- isn’t that what music is supposed to sound like? With regular harmonies? I read in a book-”
Antonio cut him off: “That’s exactly it! It sounds so learned, so lifeless! Shouldn’t music be sweeping? To slowly build and make you feel this- this- Ecstasy! wait, I’ll show you what I learned!”
He started strumming the vihuela. “Ok, you clap along.” Roderich uneasily started clapping, a little off-beat because of the strange rhythm Antonio was creating.
“This is an old one Roderich so you might know it. Hmm, maybe not the words it’s easy, you just sing the refrain with me I’ll do the stanzas. Ok, it’s Santa María, Strela do día, Móstra-nos, pera Déus e nos guía. Got that?”
Antonio was tapping his foot to the rhythm and slapping the wood of his vihuela in between the plucking. Then he suddenly stopped and took a ring of keys of his belt and handed it to Roderich. “Here, shake this- hmm this would be better if we had more players.” But he kept playing until Roderich got the hang of it. Then he started singing with it, the refrain was relatively straightforward but once Roderich got it, Toni started to make strange variations on it that threw him of again.
“No, it’s ok Roderich, you just keep singing the regular version and I’ll vary upon it. Also, the rhythm is rha-pa-pa-pa, rha-pa-papa-pa-pa. Yes, like that.”
Once they sang together like that for a while Antonio inserted stanzas between the refrains where the end of the sentences ended in long drawn out undulating notes. They were unlike anything Roderich had ever heard in a church at home or even at the fair! Though they were singing about Mary, about asking god forgiveness for sins, Roderich felt strange with what was happening. He wasn’t very good at it, but it felt like Antonio was pulling him along in a wild dance. Just as he’d gotten the hang of it, Antonio sped up and harmonized with him. Roderich could feel his body sway from side to side, almost without his will and they moved in perfect unison, rising and falling. He felt his sadness slowly fading and he smiled while singing. The thing Antonio had said about sweeping you away, about ecstasy, he was starting to understand it now. This strange rhythm, and the way Antonio intuitively reacted to what he was doing… it was almost sensual. When they finished his cheeks were red and he was slightly out of breath. Any passer-by would’ve suspected them of exchanging kisses in the garden after all. Perhaps he might as well… He enthusiastically threw himself forward, wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed Antonio on the lips. Nothing as chaste as before, the vihuela awkwardly between them. Antonio was clearly surprised but not complaining.
Hi! Welcome to this fic exploring the musical differences between Antonio and Roderich (and perhaps, by extension in their personalities). The music, however, isn't the only historical reference going on in here.
This fic is set very shortly after their marriage so anywhere between 1520 and 1525. They're still trying to figure each other out and getting to know the other's culture. Or at least, Roderich is.
The Moorish occupation of the Iberian peninsula was in that time seen as a very dark page in Spain's history and after the Reconquista Spain was portraying itself as an extremely Christian country (perhaps overcompensating slightly?). The time in Al Andalus, however, was a time when music, poetry and science flourished in Spain and the land and culture are still very influenced by it. The palace they're staying in is evidence of that. (Look up a picture it's gorgeous).
Roderich is starting to notice these Islamic influences in his new husband. And as a Christian man living in the 1500's they make him warry (not to speak of the attacks of the Ottoman empire on Austria in that time). However, the thing he ends up enjoying immensely about Antonio in this fic, his music, is something that is extremely Moorish.
Moorish music was seen as highly skilled and highly superior music even after Christianisation and Moorish musicians were still employed by the court a lot for special events.
There are two characters in here that aren't canon: the kingdom of Aragon and the Caliphate of Cordoba. The Kingdom of Aragon is a fierce lady that's the bane of Antonio's existence even though right now they're unified.
The pieces that both of them play are from their respective countries, and links are included in the lyrics. Roderich's is a contemporary piece by Henrich Isaac. If the lyrics look strange that's because that's the original 16th-century german. Antonio's piece is older, It's one of the many cantiga's de Santa maria. These canticles were written for King Alfonso X, who made a great contribution to early Spanish Christian culture. They're in the Galician dialect of Spanish that's super close to Portuguese.
As for their instruments, there are three instruments mentioned. The first being Roderich's viol. This is a predecessor to the modern-day violin, but also to the cello. It belongs to the family of the 'viola da gamba'. it was developed in 15th-century Spain. They are played upright in the lap with a bow. You can see one in use here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLgJPBDzS6o
The viol bore some resemblance to the vielle, an older and more northern European relative to the instrument, that is actually played underneath the chin. The experience with the vielle is what made it easier for Roderich to learn the viol.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdps64D-u-g
finally, Antonio is playing the vihuela da mano. While this seems yet another instrument of which the name resembles 'violin' it actually resembles a guitar more!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=duHMeCndpjo
And let's not forget about the important percussion instrument: Antonio's keys.
Have any questions about historical things I forgot to explain? please don't hesitate to shoot me a message or comment on this fic and I'll gladly elaborate.
#Spaus#aph Spain#aph austria#historical hetalia#spaaus#bringbackhetalia2020#bringbackhetalia2k19#juliwrites
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My future Eleteo children
Okay... I’ve been meaning to make this post for some time now, but other things kept putting it off... but recent events have inspired me to finally put it together, so here it is.
These are my versions of the children Elena and Mateo end up having. Technically, they’re part of my Tales of the Ever Realm AU, but I started working on them before said AU was a ‘truly set thing’. I’m not sure how fair it is to count them as ‘future children’, but I still wanted to share them.
To those interested in knowing more about them, please click below.
Candida Doroteia de Alva Flores (girl) - The first born child, and the heir to the throne of Avalor, Candida takes very much after her father. Her long hair, facial features and complexion are more reminiscent of her mother (though she wears her hair tied in a braid rather than a ponytail), but her eyes and hair color are inherited from her father, and her general personality is also closer to him.
At first glance, she looks like a vain girl who takes great pride in her appearance, given the dresses, tiaras, hair ties and hair pins that she wears, but any long period of time spent with her leads people to see that she’s a quiet child who goes about her studies dilligently, and a bit of a lone wolf, a big reason for her apparent pride in her appearance is to hide her lack of self-confidence. She is open and easygoing with her parents and their closest friends and their children, but draws into her own shell with people outside that immediate circle.
She’s shy and soft-spoken enough that some have suggested that she may not be ready to be the future queen, but both her parents insist that Candida will be the one making that decision if she wants to, and both believe she will be a good queen.
Since she was a child, Candida was compassionate to others and tries to do her best to help people if she sees them in trouble. And while she doesn’t make a show of it, she’s determined enough that if she runs into a problem she will keep trying to solve it until she exhausts every possible option.
She likes history and literature, and while she’s not as interested in magic as some of her siblings, she does like it to a degree, and is good at defensive spells.
She also has a good singing voice, and likes to play more than one instrument, though she mostly sings to herself when she feels she needs to cheer herself up.
She’s close to her parents, and also to her Aunt Isabel and to her Uncle Desmond. She’s also somewhat close to ‘Tia Val’ and ‘Tio Manuel’.
Alexandro Rui “Alex” de Alva Flores (boy) - The second born child, born a little over a year after Candida, and very much her opposite in many ways, being an impulsive sort who believes in following his instincts and thinks he can take everything that life throws at him.
He has his mother’s hair and eye color, and a skin tone similar to hers, but he wears his hair short.
He loves sports (his favorites being fencing, olaball, and horse riding) and very much dislikes studying, to the point it can be a struggle to get him to attend his lessons, which is not to say that he is dumb, as he certainly is clever enough to devise ways to sneak pan dulce from trays or explain why he was late for his lessons. Compromises to get him to attend his lessons have to come about somewhat often, and a few times it’s even necessary for his parents to put their foot down, most often Elena.
But despite how different he is from his older sister, they do get along well, and she’s the first he will turn to if he feels he can’t turn to his parents. And while he can be a bit conceited when he wins, as well as a sore loser if he loses, he’s overall a nice boy. And as much as Elena is the one who puts her foot down with him, he’s closer to her than to Mateo.
He doesn’t very much like magic at all, typically finding it boring, although like all of Elena’s children, he had to do the ‘required basic training’ to control the magic he was born with.
Outside of blood relatives, the ones he’s closest to are ‘Tio Gabe’, ‘Tia Naomi’ and ‘Tio Marzel’.
Leonor Matide de Alva Flores (girl) - The third born child, and the oldest of a set of fraternal twins, both born a bit two years after Alex. She has her mother’s hair and skin tone, and green eyes like her late great-grandmother Luisa and her late first cousin once removed Esteban. She doesn’t wear her hair as long as her older sister or mother, but it still goes down to the small of her back when she wears it down, which she does most of the time. She most often wears a wizard robe similar to the one her father wore when he started out as Royal Wizard.
She’s one of the spitfires in the family, and while no one will say she’s a bad child, much less evil, she tends to get in trouble for three main reasons.
For one, her passion for magic matches her father’s, and she can’t wait to know all the spells there are to know, which can lead to her trying to cast a given spell before she’s ready for it.
For another, she’s a very competitive child, who gets offended if anyone doubts her magical sklls, often going above and beyond the call of duty to prove them wrong, sometimes with less than stellar results.
For yet another, she has a very intense rivalry with her twin brother (who’s as interested in and as passionate about magic as her) always wanting to prove she is better than him.
All of these things already lead to some incidents, although both siblings learned to restrain themselves after one of their competitions almost had a very unfortunate outcome.
That said, for all that she and her brother bicker and compete about magic, both are there for each other when it really matters, and woe be whoever derides or mocks one of them in the other’s presence. Also, for the surprise of many, she’s a very affectionate child, and when someone she loves is sad, she always goes for hugs first before saying she’ll teach a lesson to whoever made them sad.
While Leonor excels at magic, she’s much poorer in just about every other field, and although her grades still aren’t ghastly per se, everyone thinks she could do much better at everything if she put in half the effort she puts into learning magic. Like Alex, she fares quite well at sports, and more than once tried to copy her father’s elaborate magical acrobatics (not always with the best results).
To the surprise of some, she is actually a very affectionate child,
She idolizes her mother and father, and other than her twin brother, the sibling she is closest to is her big sister Candida.
Outside of her family, the one she is closest to is Fiero, to the point that out of she is one of only two of Elena’s children who calls him Tio Fiero. Not only is he funny (there is something weirdly hilarious about his near-constant seriousness), but he is very patient when teaching her and her brother magic, and has plenty of stories to tell them about their great-grandfather, which they both love to hear.
She is also close to Olivia, although the now Royal Wizard has less time to teach her magic. She also likes spending time with Carla, and although the malvaga does not actually teach her magic, she will be open to helping her with magical practice on her free time.
Lucero Ignacio de Alva Flores (boy) - The fourth born child, and the youngest of the twins. Like his twin sister, he has his great-grandmother’s green eyes, and his mother’s hair color, although his skin tone is a few shades darker than hers.
He also wears his hair rather long (about shoulder-length), as he thinks it ‘makes him look cooler’. He also tends to wear a wizard robe similar to the one his father did when he first started out as Royal Wizard.
He is as much of a spitfire as his twin sister, and his love for magic matches hers, which is why he tends to get into trouble also (whether alongside his sister or separately from her). He is as competitive towards her as she is towards him, and also tends to take it personally if his magical skills are thrown into question.
That said, he is as present for his sister if she needs him as she is if he needs her, and he will defend her from anyone who tries to hurt her in any way, just like she does him.
He is somewhat less inventive with magic than his sister, but he is better at grasping the theory of it, and will often get the handle of a spell faster than she does. He also has more patience to sit through academics, and does better at school work than his sister. However, she has him beat in terms of acrobatics, and if they play olaball against one another he usually loses.
Like his sister, Lucero is more affectionate than many expect from such a spitfire, to the point that he and his sister have no fights over who gets to comfort anyone they love who happens to be sad near them both at the same time: they always share the task. However, he ia bit shyer about ‘getting affection’.
Also like with his twin sister, his favorite person after his parents is Fiero (he is the other of Elena’s children who calls him Tio Fiero), and he will attach himself to the former malvago at any half-chance, for the same reasons his sister does, and generally has an opinion of him similar to hers: there’s something funny about his constant seriousness, and his stories about Alacazar are wonderful to hear, and he’s a great magic teacher.
That said, he does think Olivia is much more fun when it comes to showing them the actual fun side of magic.
He also like spending time with Carla, whether it’s practicing magic with her help or listening to the stories of her adventures (although she always turns him down if she asks him to tell stories more related to her confrontations with Elena on the days they were ‘more at odds’).
Núria Jazmin de Alva Flores (girl) - The last born child of Elena and Mateo, born a bit over seven years after Leonor and Lucero.
She has somewhat darker hair and complexion than either of her parents, and dark-brown eyes. Like her mother and her oldest sister, her hair falls down to below her waist when she wears it down, but out of the whole family, she is the one who tends to change up her hairstyle the most, even outside of formal occasions.
Like other last-born children, she feels she is the family baby, although her siblings and especially parents try to not make her feel that she is. Sometimes, she worries that she doesn’t help her case by being so much of a mommy’s and daddy’s girl, but she secretly loves that they care when she feels down and loves their hugs when she is sad.
She is also the girliest one out of Elena’s daughters, at least when it comes to her attire, wanting to wear dresses and change up her hairstyle simply out of personal preference rather than to make herself feel confident.
She insists she doesn’t want to be babied just because she is the youngest one, and that she is just as capable as any of her older siblings. And to give her due credit, she can back up her words, as she performs very well in academics, is good at fencing and olaball, and also does well at magic. That said, she is secretly a bit afflicted by the fact she doesn’t ‘truly stand out’ in any field. Candida sings better than her, Alex is better at sports than her, and both Leonor and Lucero are better at magic than her. She may be above average in most things she does, but she does not excel at any specific one like any of her siblings. And that worries her sometimes, as she feels that if she isn’t ‘truly uniquely special’ at anything, she’s less than them.
Both Elena and Mateo reassure her that she is perfectly special and fine just as she is, and Núria knows they speak the truth.
But all the same, deep down she wishes that someday she will find anything she can be the best at.
She gets along well with all her siblings, but she does not have a ‘true favorite’ among them. Like all of Elena’s and Mateo’s children, she loves her mother and father. Outside of her blood family, the person she is closest to is Prisma.
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Wicked Surprises
Merribela Week, Day 1: Cards
fandom: Dragon Age rating: PG-13 characters: Merrill x Isabela words: 2.3k additional tags: Wicked Grace, flirty, first attraction description: Varric brings Merrill along to Wicked Grace, but after Varric leaves things get a little steamy between Isabela and the sweetest elf she’d never thought she’d have the hots for
For all the clever airs he put on, Isabela was always amused by how Varric ended up in a duel to the death against her during the final rounds of Wicked Grace. And he’d always start furrowing his brows a few hands in, because he’d go in so sure he could beat her. She knew well enough to let him win a few rounds, get his hopes up, just to destroy him when his self-confidence turned into unfounded arrogance.
They were just hitting the tipping point, about five games in. He put too much money in this time after a streak of wins. And even though his mouth acted in control, it was always his eyebrows that gave it away. Isabela smirked. Everything was going according to plan.
Well, at least when it came to Varric and Hawke. She’d scared the sassy mage under the table two rounds ago and the dwarf was hitting his tipping point. But there was an unexpected element in the game tonight.
At the end of the table, only inches from her, was a chipper little elf with gorgeous, bright green eyes, her feet crossed dainty under her chair. Merrill was sitting there smiling at her cards like they were candy. Most of the time, she figured the ex-Dalish was too saccharine for her tastes. However, tonight there was this mischievous little grin on her face each time somebody dropped out.
Isabela couldn’t tell if she just had good cards and didn’t know how to lie, or was pulling off the most manipulative, yet wholesome looking heist she’d ever seen.
Taking her eyes off the most interesting character at the table, Isabela leaned back in her chair and nodded at her dwarven buddy, his eyebrows looking so tense they could fly right off. She asked, “Going to do anything with your turn, Varric?”
After a few flitting glances between his cards and Isabela, he grumbled and threw his cards down. “Dammit, I’m out.” Even though he was glaring and crossing his arms, Isabela felt so much electric satisfaction. It sizzled under her skin. If she wasn’t such a good pirate, she might have made one hell of a gambler.
Merrill pouted next to him. Bemused, Isabela wanted to see what she was up to. A cute pout like that had to be deliberate. Batting her eyelashes at Varric, Merrill said, “That’s no fun.” Isabela was caught off guard when those sparkly eyes looked straight at her. “Guess that just leaves me and Isabela, right?Or are you quitting, too?”
Running her tongue behind her teeth, Isabela shook her head. Not so easy, baby doll. Not that she minded seeing this new side of Merrill. “Don’t think your cute smile’s about to scare me away.”
“You think my smile’s cute?”
Isabela wasn’t used to finding herself caught off guard more than once in a conversation. She also didn’t know how to respond to Merrill’s eyes sparkling extra while looking at her and talking about smiles. But whatever the elf’s ploy was, she wasn’t going to get in her head. “Not the point.” Isabela gestured to the finished game in front of them and said, “Time to show your hand, better hope it’s a good one.”
“I dunno, but I think I did okay for myself.” And then with that helpless, adorable grin Merrill flipped her cards to show the best hand Isabela had ever seen in this seedy bar. Guess the dark haired elf with had more surprises than she expected in her tiny little hands.
“Well, well, can say I didn’t expect that.” Isabela showed her own abysmal hand and felt her entire body liven up with interest. There wasn’t much about this world that surprised her anymore, more like unfortunate possibilities that she hadn’t counted on happening.
But a surprise, and a pleasant one at that, was something she didn’t want to let go of so easy. Giving Merrill a once over, she said, “I have to see if you can make lightning strike twice. You in, Varric?”
“Nah, Hawke’s already weeping under the table because he lost so I’ll get his ass home.” After standing and dragging up the drunk Hawke with him, Varric gave Isabela a pointed look. “Take care of Daisy, will ya?”
Merrill didn’t look too happy about that, though she couldn’t tell if it was out of annoyance or guilt. “She doesn’t have to--”
“My pleasure.”
Varric seemed pleased with that and lef Hawke out of The Hanged Man, managing to miss other handsy drunk patrons along the way. They both waved the two off and watched the door open and close behind them.
But the second Varric’s orange head was out of the way, Merrill was looking at her again with pinched lips and a wrinkled forehead. “I can take care of myself.”
It made Isabela laugh, how tightly wound Merrill looked. That was more like what she expected. However, Isabela was a little too intrigued to let the elf get all awkward and tense again. She wanted to see what else was underneath. The few glimpses already made her way too interested to let the more salacious side of Merrill slip away. But she did admit, “Sure you can. I’ve seen you in a fight. I’m just making the grumpy dwarf feel better.”
“Oh. Thank you, then.”
Isabela raised an eyebrow, flicked a card with her fingers, and egged Merrill on, saying, “So are you actually good at this game or was that just a lucky draw?”
“What? Think I can’t have beaten you on wits alone?”
Chuckling, Isabela leaned on the table and bit her lip. “No offense, but I doubt it.”
“I take offense to that, but I’ll let it go. Not your fault I have a “cute smile””
Of all things, teasing wasn’t what Isabela expected. This night was only getting better and better. She even was starting to wonder what other surprises those cute, pink lips of Merrill’s had for her.
Maybe this night would get even more interesting than she ever expected.
“Is that all you’re going to talk about now, the fact I said you have a cute smile?”
“When you normally tell people they have nice arse or tits? I take it as a uniquely rare compliment.”
Isabela bristled. She didn’t like that as much as the rest of this conversation. She cut her eyes at Merrill. “There’s nothing wrong with me enjoying company in my bed.”
Shaking her hands in front of her innocently, Merrill looked startled.“That’s not what I meant at all.” Then she looked down at her hands, this little blush covering her cheeks, and said, “I meant it’s nice to hear you say you like my smile.”
While most things about tonight were a delicious mystery, Isabela knew that kind of smile and it made her fingertips tingle. Little miss flower might just have a crush on her. Things just got so, so much more interesting. Especially when said woman wasn’t bad to look at. Good company, too, albeit like a sugar rush sometimes.
In her element, Isabela brushed her foot against Merrill’s. Her posture shot straight up and the blush got a little more noticeable. “If I didn’t know any better, Merrill, I’d say you were flirting.”
“M-maybe it’s all a part of my grand scheme to beat you at cards.”
Winking, Isabela said, “You starting this kind of game with me, flower? I will win every time.”
“Will you? How so?”
Merrill was just making this easier and easier for her, huh? Well, either she was going to scare the elf off or get a much more evening than she bargained for. Whether it was some squirming or screaming, Isabela was open to either option. She twirled a lock of her hair with her finger. “With someone like you? All I have to do is have a drifting hand or to talk about what my tongue can do under your dress, and you’re done. I’ll have won.”
Even though Merrill’s cheeks flared, she swallowed and didn’t flinch. Impressive. “Well you aren’t winning right now.” The little elf, exhaled, slow. Isabela watched the way her chest fell. Even though she was petite, she had to admit her body had to be beautiful under her green tunic. She did wonder how soft her skin that didn’t touch routine battle might be.
But as Isabela was getting far too distracted about all the possibilities of tonight, even though she was pretty sure they’d never happen, Merrill tipped her finished hand and raised an eyebrow at Isabela. Another great damn hand. Merrill's eyes were practically gleaming when she winked at her. “So what do you want to do next?”
Okay, she had to admit that was a little hot. Her throat was a lot dryer than she remembered.
Showing her own cards, she had to accept she got her ass handed to her. Again. “How--”
“A winner never tells their secrets.” Merrill’s cute smile was starting to have less than a wholesome effect on Isabela. She was fantasizing about what she had to do to get Merrill’s intentions to turn a little more than friendly. Cleavage and some mild flirting normally worked, but they were already past that point. “
Across from her, Merrill asked, Another?”
“I’m out of spare coin, I’m afraid.” Isabela couldn’t get the idea of that green tunic on her bedroom floor out of her head, though. It was time to put the ball in Merrill’s court, try to feel out where her head was at. After all, this wasn’t just some drunken, hot girl that she could make fall in love with her for a night. This was sort of her co-worker. She had to be a little more delicate with it. Raising an eyebrow, Isabela said,“But we can always wager more interesting things.”
“Like what?”
“Each failed round, loser drops a piece of clothing?”
Merrill's red cheeks were really starting to do it for Isabela, and it was getting really distracting. She replied, a little overwhelmed.“Not in the middle of the bar!”
Isabela accepted the loss. This idea of her and Merrill wasn’t a real practical one. This was probably just a rare night that’d never happen again. Chocking it up to fun flirting that she’d have to work out of her system on some cute rando later, Isabel conceded, “Well then--”
“W-What if we went to your room?”
Her lips fell into an easy smile that warmed up her whole body. But Merrill just kept on surprising her, didn’t she?
Cocking her head towards her back room, she collected the cards and brushed her fingers against Merrill’s. “Then I guess we have ourselves a game.”
When they got back to Isabela’s room, she was practically drunk on the thought of seeing how far her vallaslin really went. So drunk that Isabela lost a couple rounds way too fast. She had wriggled out of her boots and top less than half an hour later. Only upside was that the red-cheeked Merrill was having a hard time keeping her eyes off of Isabela’s, um, assets.
So much trouble that after losing way too many helpless rounds, Isabela finally won.
“Ha! Seems your winning streak just ended.”
When Merrill grabbed the edges of her shirt, though, her hands were shaking. No matter how much Isabela wanted to toss the elf on her bed and see how long it took to make her moan, it didn’t sit right with her, seeing her so uncomfortable. Before Merrill started pulling off anything, Isabela grabbed her hand and shook her head. “You know, you don’t have to--”
But Merrill took away her hand and peeled off the top like it offended her. “I’m not a child.”
“No, you’re not.” Isabela took a deep breath, seeing the pale, pristine skin underneath. She could see Merrill’s chest rise and fall under her crossed arms. With a soft hand, Isabela caressed her side. Though her face was still red and she looked so unsure, Merrill didn’t pull away.
Tucking a hand under her chin, Isabela pulled Merrill closer and said, “You’re beautiful, you know.”
“Funny, coming from the most beautiful woman in every room.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“Of course I do.” When Merrill’s eyes flicked down to Isabela’s chest, she covered her red face with her hands. “A-And I’m not just saying that because you don’t have a top on!”
“You’re adorable.” Letting go of her, Isabela held back her more powerful feelings about looking at Merrill and said, “But don’t start this game unless you’re serious about playing it through.”
“You dare ask that? I may be awkward and small and people don’t take me quite seriously. But I’m still a woman, Isabela.” She unfurled her arms and held her head high. “Don’t patronize me.”
With that, Isabela found her fingers on Merrill’s hips, pulling her in closer, whispering in her ear, “I’m not trying to patronize you. I’m trying to make sure you want this. Because I want you to end up in my bed because you can’t resist me, not because you weren’t sure how to tell me to stop.”
“Don’t.”
Isabela looked directly into those bright green eyes and waited for the delicious words she wanted to hear. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t stop.”
One gentle pull and Merrill’s body was pressed against hers, and she could feel the elf’s heartbeat against her own chest. It made it hard to keep teasing her, but it was so damn worth it. “And what would you like me to start doing, then?”
“Kiss me.” Hovering her lips over Merrill’s, Isabela chose to play the insatiable asshole. She wanted to see just how much she could make Merrill squirm.
“All you have to do is say you want me.”
Merrill pulled back her face and glowered. “Don’t make some sadistic joke out of my feelings--”
“I’m not.” Isabela got close again, running her hand up Merrill’s back, pulling at the smallclothes left on her body. “Tell me you want me.”
“I bloody want you. Happy now?”
And that was all she needed to hear before crashing her lips down onto hers.
What a surprising night, indeed. She wouldn’t mind letting Merrill surprise her more often.
#Merribela#Merribela week#Dragon Age 2#Bioware Romances#merrill x isabela#Wicked Grace#Merrill#Isabela#Varric#Dragon Age fanfiction#fanfiction#Merribelaweek
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Camille Attacks. Again.
Fandom: Mortal Intruments/Shadowhunters
Pairing: Raphael/Simon (Saphael)
Word Count: 1861
Requested: No
Summary: This takes place after the Mortal War and the vampires of Hotel Dumort, Luke's pack, Magnus, and some Shadowhunters have a meeting at Jade Wolf when an attack takes place. Camille is leading it and wants to kill Luke and his pack for killing some of her followers. She takes her rouge vampire followers and portals to the headquarters with the intent of killing the werewolves and claiming her "rightful" place as clan leader.
Notes: Sorry it's long and the ending is trash. I ran out of ideas. :)
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The sun was sinking below the horizon, which meant that it was time to go out hunting. Raphael sat comfortably on the couch, reading, with Simon's head on his shoulder. It was peaceful and quiet in the hotel, unusual considering the clan that lived in it was noisy and boisterous. He should've known the silence wouldn't last.
"Raphael," Lily said from behind them. "Luke and the Shadowhunters want to meet at the werewolves' hideout, Jade Wolf, to talk. He said it's casual, but there's a problem."
He sighed inwardly. Just one day without interruptions was all he wanted. But he nodded and told her to get the clan ready to leave. Simon stood up tiredly and stretched.
"I just want to stay here." he groaned.
"Duty calls," Raphael responded, a bit annoyed as well.
He threw on one of Simon's black, oversized lgbtq+ pride hoodies and walked around the hotel yelling in Spanish to get their asses moving.
At last, the clan was ready. Most of them dressed in hoodies and tired.
"Why do we HAVE to go," whined Elliot as he took a sip of his coffee-blood mixture. "It's to early, or well late, for this!"
"Cause we want to show we are allies with them, and we are dependable," reasoned Phoenix.
"You're supposed to be on my side," he groaned back.
"Phoenix is right, Elliot. Besides, we are already going," commented Simon.
"You're the only one they like," Zeke stated.
"Well, they are going to have to like you," Simon started. "You are all my family so they can put up with it. We are leaving, yes?"
At the word family, many vampires smiled. Simon has moved into Dumort after the war and so far had stayed about a year getting used to his new family.
Raphael nodded. "Let's go."
They all walked at mundane speed, not wanting to overuse their energy on speed. When they reached the bar, many werewolves glanced at them. Their eyes lingered on their clothing before hastily looking away.
"Do we look that bad?" asked Elliot jokingly.
Lily shook her head, her magenta hair pulled up in messy bun. "We are usually dressed up, you know? Raphael in his suits and stuff. Now, we probably look like a bunch of college students that have their first class at 8."
Finally they reached the back of the bar, where Luke was leaning against door frame, talking to someone in the room.
"Werewolf," Raphael stated.
Luke turned towards the clan with a surprised look on his face, which he quickly hid.
"Wonderful of you to join us on such late notice. Everyone else is in here."
He gestured to the room that was on his other side. Raphael nodded and moved forwards into the room, his clan at his heels. It was an spacious room with pale beige walls. There were dark brown chairs clustered by the walls and a huge matching table in the center.
He first saw the Shadowhunters. Clary, Jace, Isabelle, Alec, and Jocelyn sitting in the furthest left corner. Then Magnus, who had an arm draped around his boyfriend's shoulder. When they say him, they looked just as surprised as Luke. Even Jace couldn't hide his shock. Magnus just smiled.
Raphael took a seat towards the middle of the wall and let his family spread out beside him. Simon took a seat to Raphael's right with Elliot on the other side of him. Lily sat on Raphael's left with Honor next to her.
Luke has started talking. "My pack had just fought in a large battle yesterday..." He trailed off before sighing and continuing. "against vampires."
When the words had left his lips, the vampires, excluding Raphael and Simon, were on their feet glaring at Luke.
"Are you blaming us?" snarled Lily, eye's ablaze. "I'll let you know-"
Simon cut her off softly. "Lil, I'm sure he's not blaming us. It's a peaceful meeting. Please sit down, hermana."
She looked at Luke once more before sitting down, angry. The other vampires were still tensed but sat also.
"I don't blame you for anything," Luke continued slowly. "There's just something about that group. They knew where we were and who was with us because they planned their numbers and strengths strategically. I was wondering if u happened to know who."
The vampires looked uneasy while Raphael and Simon shared glances. Before anyone could speak up, Magnus suddenly tensed and shot up from his seat.
"There's a portal open," he said.
The Shadowhunters scrambled to their feet, drawing their weapons. Luke strode out to the main bar area and within seconds the pack that was there was beside him.
Luke walked to the door leading to the courtyard, hand on the knob. He glanced back at his pack before opening the door and running through. He stopped in the middle of the courtyard. A couple yards away, a vibrant blue portal shone. The only other lights were the ones scattered around the courtyard.
The Manhattan clan moved to the left of the pack while Magnus and the Shadowhunters stayed behind the downworlders groups, ready to fight.
A familiar figure strutted though the newly open portal. Camille. Behind her, at least 100 more vampires, some carrying weapons, followed her. She raised her right hand, and a beaten up warlock with an obvious lion tail held out his hands. Blinding light shot from them, and a green glowing wall was created behind and around the werewolves and vampires, cutting them off from the Shadowhunters, Magnus, and the outside world. (Basically a big wall around the vampires and werewolves, with enough room to fight)
"Wonderful to see you all again," she laughed, her smile taunting. She clapped slowly. "It's too bad that the werewolves just fought a battle huh, Lucian."
At that, Luke snarled but not liking the odds. He only had half of his pack, and unfortunately Camille was right about them recovering. They couldn't fight without being absolutely slaughtered. The Shadowhunters behind him couldn't help, and Magnus was unsuccessfully trying to break the wall.
"And you," she turned to face Raphael. "Step down. I should be clan leader."
His eyes narrowed. "And let you kill more mundanes? Absolutely not."
She sighed. "Well, I'll deal with you later. I'll just kill the werewolves then we can discuss our...positions."
The blonde haired vampire turned back to Luke, baring her fangs. Before she could attack or order an attack, Simon used his speed to place himself in front of Luke.
"I won't let you," he said bravely.
"Oh poor you," Camille stated boredly. "you'll just be killed also."
When the words had left her lips, the vampires all tensed.
Lily snarled, "Keep your filthy hands off of our fledgling." The clan and nodded in agreement, baring their fangs warningly.
"Who's going to stop me? You?" she asked, smirking. "You have no control over the clan."
"Si, but I do." Raphael's voice rang out, and he made his way casually to Simon's side.
Camille laughed tauntingly. "Why protect them? In the end, it won't matter. Step aside."
"I stand for what I believe. The one time I didn't, I lost my first life." Raphael's gaze was calm, but pure fire raged in his eyes. "I refuse to step aside. You'll have to make me."
"You'll have to make us," added Lily. She walked towards the werewolves to stand besides her leader and the Daylighter. The other vampires spread out protectively in front of Luke's werewolf clan, creating a loose, staggered wall between them and Camille.
Camille's confident smirk turned into a cold snarl.
"You stand with the werewolves after they took everything away from you? You know, it didn't have to end like this." She tilted her head to the side. "You could have just stepped down from your position and let me kill them but no. It always has to end in blood, huh. Well, no matter. I shall be the clan leader, and I will lead the vampires out of the shadows. The legacy you fought so hard to keep is over, Raphael Santiago. So much for being a saint."
With that she waved her hand at the opposing vampires and werewolves. "Kill them all."
Clary screamed out for Simon and Luke while Magnus merely whispered Raphael's name.
Both sides clashed into one mob of blood and snarling. Raphael, Simon, and half the clan shot forward to meet the other side while the other half stood protectively in front of the pack.
Raphael sprinted forward and ducked as a vampire lunged at him, fangs extended. He swiftly drew a dagger and brought it up in an arch. The blade stabbed his stomach. Raphael jerked it up till it reached his heart and the vampire exploded into dust. Another bulkier one advanced in front of him, and he could sense two from behind. He darted forwards, jumping on the one in front of him. He used him as a surface and back flipped over the ones behind him, giving him time to see what weapons they had.
He used his speed to drop down and hurriedly rammed the already bloodied dagger in her heart from behind. The other turned and sliced downwards with a golden sword. He dodged, flipping to the side and kicking her feet from beneath her. Her grip loosened and he grabbed the sword with his other hand and stabbed. All around him the battle raged on. Though they were outnumbered, his clan was quicker and smarter.
A tall boy, who looked around 17, had targeted Simon and threw a punch. Raphael's training kicked in. Simon bolted towards him and locked the vampire's outstretched arm in his own. Simon turned and flipped him over his shoulder. He slammed into multiple enemies before reaching the border and finally collapsing.
He felt small hands grab his shoulders and a cold breath in his neck. Before she could bite him, she was thrown off. Now, he was back to back with Raphael. The clan leader pushed a dagger into his hand.
"Be careful, idiota. Te amo."
Simon nodded back. "Don't get blood on my favorite sweatshirt."
By the time Raphael and Simon bumped into each other again, the battle was winding down. The vampires of Hotel Dumort regrouped while Raphael walked towards the Shadowhunters, the border still glowing. He pressed his hand to the glowing wall. He muttered a soft prayer in Spanish, and the wall glowed brightly before it evaporated into mist. His eyes lifted to meet the Shadowhunters', the pack's, and Magnus's.
"Well, that was interesting."
Simon was grinning. "Did you see that fight?! We looked awesome!"
Raphael rolled his eyes, but stayed silent as Simon excitedly fanboyed. The clan made their way to where Raphael and the others stood. None of them looked to be fatally injured.
Lily sighed. "Well, that solves your problem. Can I leave now?"
Elliot snorted next to her. "Why are you so blunt?"
Lily frowned. "I can be whatever I want."
She stuck her tongue out at him. Raphael turned to Luke and nodded an acknowledgment. He turned on his heel with his family and they headed back.
Edit: Well hopefully that wasn't too bad. I just read it again and i'm not sure what happened to Camille but uhm she's probably dead.
#raphael santiago#simon lewis#shadowhunters#the mortal instruments#fanfic#fanfiction#vampire#clan#saphael#simon x raphael#luke graymark#clary fairchild#jace has too many last names#alec lightwood#magnus bane
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This Is the Coda That Never Ends... Part 21
(Read on AO3) (Start from the beginning)
Andrew was right in assuming the brief reprise he gets when he returns from leaving Clary with Lorenzo, Magnus, and Alec is the last he’s going to get for quite some time. He can feel the tension in the Institute the moment Lydia’s presence is made public knowledge. It starts off with a few rumors, people who aren’t aware of what’s going on with Clary only knowing that Lydia Branwell is at the New York Institute, and that Lydia Branwell is still an envoy to the Clave. It’s certainly a bad look without perspective.
However, it’s a worse look with the full story. Isabelle makes the announcement sometime after lunch, calling everyone together to update them on the fact that Clary Fray turned up outside of the Institute the night before but was swiftly removed thanks to Andrew’s diligent attention to the security cameras.
Unwanted eyes turn to him and he wishes she left him out of it, but knows that wouldn’t be a good look for transparency while Lydia’s around. It isn’t like it’s a secret, his name is on the report, too, but he just hates the attention.
Doing his best not to pay them any mind, Andrew keeps his eyes planted firmly on Isabelle as she continues her debriefing- that Clary doesn’t remember anything, but that clearly some things are starting to come back to her, so any sightings of her near the Institute, or the Dumort, or anywhere significant to the Shadow World are to be reported immediately.
“And who are we supposed to report them to ?” Says a voice from the back, the words far from an innocent inquiry and clearly meant to stir trouble. Andrew tenses, but Isabelle never loses her cool as she glances to her left at Lydia with a polite, charming smile.
“Anything relevant to Clary Fray can be reported to either myself, or to Miss Branwell. You are all to cooperate fully during her stay here, and assist in anything she may ask if you should you find it within your means. Miss Branwell has unrestricted access to whatever she needs here. Understood?”
A chorus of ‘understood’ echoes in the room from each and every Shadowhunter present, knowing the question isn’t rhetorical.
The look of slight surprise on Lydia’s face as she stands next to Isabelle says it all: she didn’t come here and demand those allowances, but Isabelle offers them up before it can be ordered of her. That’s a bold gamble to take, leaving Lydia entirely unchecked during her investigation, but it’s one hell of a power play.
Oh shit , Andrew realizes with a small smirk, Lightwood means business .
Lydia bristles for just a moment before that confident smile is plastered back across her face.
“Thank you, Isabelle. I appreciate the warm welcome, and I promise not to get in the way of any daily operations. Just go about your jobs as if I’m not even here.”
Once they’re dismissed from the announcement everyone scatters as quickly as possible. There’s a challenge behind Isabelle and Lydia’s eyes, a sharpness to their words no matter how professional, that lets the Institute know that this is far from a friendly social call.
Andrew wishes he could follow Lydia’s advice and go back to work as if she isn’t even there, but unfortunately he hears his name called just as he’s reaching the elevators.
“Mr. Underhill?”
He freezes, glad he’s facing away from her so that she can’t see the instinctive grimace that crosses his features before he controls it into a neutral smile. Andrew turns to face her while dropping his hand from where it was about to press down on the call button.
“Miss Branwell, how nice to see you again,” he says. “Did Isabelle send you over to grab the spare keys to the guest room?” He asks hopefully, knowing full well that he isn’t going to be that lucky.
“Ah, no, though I suppose I will want those at some point too,” Lydia says. “I was actually going to ask if you could go over some of the security tapes with me when you have a moment. I know you’re in high demand around here, so if you’re not free now we can meet at your earliest convenience.”
Andrew considers this for a moment before shrugging. He doesn’t have anything pressing to attend to, nothing he can’t push off until later. And the sooner he gets this over with the sooner he hopefully won’t have to worry about his role in all of this. He’s, more or less, the eyes of the Institute these days. So obviously he’s expected to see, and know, everything. He certainly knows more than he wants to most of the time.
“Sure, now works. Follow me,” he says, turning back towards the elevator and pressing the button.
The ride to the surveillance room isn’t a long one but it’s silent between the two of them. They worked together a little bit in the short period of time Lydia took over the Institute last year, and during her time presiding over Isabelle’s trial. Obviously neither of those two things put her in his good graces back then, though he did feel bad for her after the whole dramatically failed wedding thing… not that anyone brings that up anymore, least of all to Lydia herself.
Instead he says, “Do you think you’ll be staying with us long?”
“Why,” Lydia counters. “Eager to get rid of me already?”
He thinks he can sense something that almost sounds like resignation in her tone despite the smile she tries to keep present.
“Not at all,” Andrew replies. “It isn’t often we get visitors for more than a few hours anymore,” he admits. “Your visit is definitely bringing some excitement, which is always a nice change of pace.”
“The constant danger of demon hunting not exciting enough for you?” Lydia challenges, laughing. This time her tone matches her smile a little more; it’s lighter, a little more relaxed as the elevator doors open and they walk down an otherwise empty hallway. Since it isn’t a room used by many within the Institute the surveillance room is kept mostly away from the busier areas.
“And you were the one who found Clary when she turned up here, aren’t you? Seems like you’re already getting most of the recent excitement.”
Andrew hums in confirmation but doesn’t comment.
They enter the room and he switches on a few monitors, just so she can get a look at the cameras he has set up around the Institute, inside and out, while he pulls up what she wants to see.
“Here,” he says, finding the footage easily since he’d already pulled it for Isabelle earlier. Lydia comes up behind him and they both watch as Clary approaches the Institute. He can hear movement behind him as Lydia shifts, bringing a hand up to grip the back of his chair at the reaction Clary has the closer she gets to the building. And then the portal, Lorenzo’s arrival, and Andrew’s own cameo, ending with a quick phone call before he and Lorenzo take Clary through a portal and off camera.
“Can you rewind that?” Lydia asks, and Andrew does - not just once, but three times for her.
“Who did you call?” She asks the second time through when he pulls out his phone.
“Isabelle,” he says. “There aren’t exactly standard protocols to follow for this sort of thing.”
“And where did she tell you to take Clary?”
“Magnus’ loft,” he says, and Lydia nods again. He’s keeping his answers as short and to the point as possible, getting the feeling that this is more of an interrogation than a casual conversation over what happened.
“And then what?”
This is the part he expects the most questions about, but thankfully he has an easy out of his own to avoid accidentally saying too much, or the wrong thing.
“I don’t know. Once we got her somewhere safe to lay down I had to come back here - I was still on duty, I had to finish my shift out, so Lorenzo portalled me back while Clary was still unconscious.”
“And Lorenzo showed up to help because you called him,” it isn’t a question, and he thinks he can pick apart the slightest hint of amusement in her tone when she adds, “That was a pretty immediate response. Does he often react so quickly to assist the Shadowhunters here at the Institute, or…” Lydia trails off but the implication behind her words is clear whether she finishes the thought out loud or not.
“He would’ve done the same for anyone,” Andrew insists, knowing full well that’s a lie. “He’s the High Warlock, after all. It’s kind of his job.” Of course Lorenzo would help if asked but he highly doubts Lorenzo would’ve dropped everything with no explanation the way he had for Andrew in that moment.
“I see. Well, I hope he’s that eager when I arrange a meeting with him,” Lydia says, and Andrew curses mentally. Of course she’d go to him to fill in the blanks from after Andrew left to return to work. Fuck.
Lydia continues without waiting for a response, which is good, because Andrew doesn’t have one to give her. “She looks like she’s in considerable pain here,” Lydia says, pausing the tape at the moment Clary doubles over clutching at her head.
“She was, according to Lorenzo. I only saw it on the camera, though.” And that much is true enough. It’s safe for him to not say anything more on the subject - he shouldn’t know anything else, after all, and what he does know is pure speculation. All of this is pure speculation - not a single one of them really have any clue what’s going on with Clary, not Alec or Isabelle or the Clave or even Clary herself, from what he’s been told. So the last thing he wants to do is spread guesses and hearsay.
Lydia seems to accept that answer at face value because she doesn’t ask him any more questions about it. In fact, there’s a long silence and Andrew starts to think for a hopeful second that he’s in the clear, when--
“Do you have other surveillance of Clary?” Lydia asks, catching him off guard.
“What?”
“Other tapes, from around the city? I know the cameras here can tap into half the city. Do we know where else she’s been, who else she’s spoken to? If she remembered The Institute then maybe she remembers more.”
“I don’t have any I know about to pull up, but I can see what I can find and save them for you. I checked in on her this morning but she was just going to an art class, nothing worth noting.” He hopes that his voice is steadier than he feels.
“I’d appreciate that.”
When it looks like Lydia is just going to stand there, waiting, Andrew clarifies, “...it’ll take some time, though. Might take a few days to get anything worth noting, even if I pull a few people in to help. That’s a lot of city to cover, after all.”
“Oh, of course. I suppose I’ve taken enough of your time today anyway, Underhill. Thank you, and let me know if there are any new developments.”
Andrew goes back to work and it isn’t until a few hours later that Isabelle comes down to the surveillance room.
“What did you show her besides the day Clary showed up here?”
“Nothing,” Lorenzo says.
“Why not?” Isabelle questions. “I said full cooperation.”
“...I thought you were just, you know, saying that!” Andrews says, a little thrown off by the declaration. “I wiped most of those tapes from when we saw Clary going to the old Jade Wolf spot, and from the art show. I didn’t think you’d want Jace or Maia implemented in any of this…”
“ Underhill ,” Isabelle practically hisses.
“I did it before this was, you know, an official investigation. I didn't want some nosy new recruit stumbling over it when you told me to keep it quiet. I didn't even tell Lorenzo!" Andrew points out. "Can’t we just say we were making space on the servers?”
“And the only thing missing were the days Clary Fray decided to make her way back into the Shadow World?!” Isabelle points out, and Andrew frowns.
“Listen, this isn’t my first rodeo. I was covering all of us. Myself included. If she found out I saw Clary on those tapes even just a day ago without reporting it, that’s on me, too.”
Isabelle sighs. He knows she can’t argue that much. As a Shadowhunter self-preservation is just too high of a natural reaction.
“I can get the footage back, say I only just found it looking back after Lydia’s request. If that’s what you really want. But make sure it is, because once they see Clary leaving Maia’s restaurant and Jace showing up immediately after, and once they realize who bought all of Clary’s paintings, Jace, Maia, and Magnus will be the next people under Lydia’s microscope.”
He thought he was proactively protecting people he’s grown to care for and respect over the past year. And what a difference a year can make. At first Underhill wasn’t sure there was a world he’d ever get along with Jace Herondale, but now here he is, looking out for Herondale and doing what needed to be done to protect Clary.
Or at least, what he thought needed to be done. He’s a little surprised with how easily he came to the decision to hide the footage initially only to have it brought up as a matter of simple protocol.
If he's learned anything in the last year of growing closer to the Lightwoods it's that sometimes what should be done isn't always the most obvious matter of protocol. So he made a judgement call. Was it wrong?
The look on Isabelle's face tells him she's as conflicted as he is.
"Just tell me what you decide ," she says, worrying her lower lip.
"Oh no you don't, " Andrew says. "This isn't my call."
"It was your call when you deleted that footage in the first place," Isabelle points out without missing a beat.
"Ouch." Andrew sighs. "If you want my opinion , I don't like that they sent an envoy instead of just asking for updates, or letting us run this ourselves. If all you told them is that she showed up her here and Lorenzo took her away then let her go, it might be best if they think that’s where this started so they don’t go digging too far back. Maia and Jace won't say anything, will they?"
Isabelle considers this for a moment before shaking her head. " I don't think so, especially not if I ask them not to, but…" she looks suddenly uncomfortable. "Do you think Lorenzo will?”
“You already put everything he was there for in the report, I don’t think he’d go out of his way to…” Andrew starts, but his words trail off at the peculiar look which crosses Isabelle’s features as he speaks. “You didn’t put everything he did in the report, did you?” Isabelle’s silence is all the answer he needs. “What happened after I left?”
“Do you actually want to know? Or do you want to keep your plausible deniability for when you talk to Lydia again?”
It’s a decision that’s more difficult to make than Andrew’s proud of, so he stalls. “Will knowing affect my ability to protect the Institute?”
Isabelle doesn’t answer right away. “No,” she decides. “It shouldn’t matter to anything regarding the Institute.”
“Then don’t tell me.” Andrew isn’t certain that’s the right decision, but it’s the safest one he has for now. He can always find out later, but once he knows he can’t take that back. “Maybe I’ll ask later, or maybe Lorenzo will tell me, but for now… if I don’t have to know, perhaps it’s best I don’t.”
He’s more than a little afraid that Isabelle isn’t going to like that answer even though she’s the one who gave him the option. Her face is unreadable but then she nods with the slightest flicker of a smile.
“I don’t blame you,” she admits. “Thank you for everything you’ve done so far. And as far as the other footage of Clary from around the city… you said you got rid of it. It isn’t traceable?”
Andrew shakes his head ‘no’.
“Then no one needs to know we were ever watching it before. Start ‘looking’ around the Dumort, or the Seelie entrances, and hopefully Lydia will get tired and leave before you reach anything worth reporting.”
Andrew nods. “Understood.”
Isabelle hesitates as if she might say something else, but changes her mind and turns to leave instead.
Andrew’s almost at the end of his day when he gets a call from Lorenzo inviting him over for dinner, saying something about an abundance of stew, and agrees.
It isn’t until he’s texting Lorenzo that he’s done for the day and waiting for the portal to open that he realizes he’s actually a little nervous. This is the first time he’s seeing Lorenzo since he took care of Clary for him, at his request. What else did Andrew inadvertently get him wrapped up in, he has to wonder after everything Isabelle said, and does he even want to know?
“I was starting to think they might not let you leave. Is the Institute on high alert with the Clave hanging about?” Lorenzo asks conversationally, stirring a pot on the stove. Normally he’d use magic for something as simple as reheating food, which strikes Andrew as peculiar, but Lorenzo is speaking again before he can dwell too long on it. “I hope you don’t mind leftovers.”
“It’s just an envoy,” Andrew clarifies, not that it makes things that much better. “And of course not. That smells amazing.”
“Isabelle said it was good, but then Simon told me I couldn’t trust her tastebuds so… the verdict is still out I suppose.”
“...Isabelle and Simon were here?” Andrew asks, thrown off by the casual way that information is mentioned.
“Yes, for the-” Lorenzo starts, but stops himself as he finally looks up and puts all of his attention on Andrew. “-they didn’t tell you what happened after you left?”
Andrew shakes his head. “No. She was going to, but Lydia was asking me all sorts of questions and I figured it was best for everyone if I just didn’t know.”
Lorenzo’s grip tightens slightly on the wooden spoon he’s holding, his shoulders tensing. “I see,” He says.
"But if you want to talk about it-"
"No, no I wouldn't want to put you in a compromising position." Lorenzo turns his gaze back to the stove.
"I really don't mind. It's my fault you got involved at all-"
"It's fine," Lorenzo says, but the tone Lorenzo says it in leaves Andrew with the distinct impression that isn't fine at all. “I’ve had more than enough Shadowhunter business for one day, anyway.”
Andrew knows better than to press a third time, so he reluctantly drops the topic for now. He decides not to point out that, as a Shadowhunter, that’s pretty much all he has to talk about, but he’ll manage for a night.
"Okay," Andrew agrees instead. They so pointedly avoid any talk of work or Clary that Andrew almost forgets to warn his boyfriend about Lydia's desire to meet with him until after dinner.
"Oh! I know we said no Shadowhunter talk tonight, but I did want to give you a heads up that Lydia might be reaching out to you about… well, she only knows what Izzy put in the report. But she mentioned wanting to talk to you soon.” Andrew says as he gathers the dishes to put them in the sink. He knows he doesn’t have to, that Lorenzo can clean all of this up with a wave of his hand, but instead the warlock simply watches him do this little bit the ‘old fashioned’ way he’s so used to out of habit. Normally Lorenzo argues with him over it but today Lorenzo hands his plate over without comment.
“And I suppose there’s a script I’m meant to follow in what I tell her?” Lorenzo sighs, sounding suddenly tired, but Andrew only shakes his head.
“No. At least, none that I know of. I haven’t told her about Maia or Jace or anything other than the night she showed up at the Institute, but I have no idea what else she knows from other sources. Whatever you tell her is up to you.”
Andrew knows there’s a lot of loose ends in all of this. Too many people know things that the Clave doesn’t, and it’s too late to go back and make them public knowledge now without getting a lot of people in trouble.
The look Lorenzo levels him with is a clear sign that whatever it is Lorenzo did that ended up with Isabelle and Simon and who knows who else here in his home, it’s big. Big enough that Lorenzo actually looks worried for a moment over the idea of speaking freely on it.
“I appreciate the warning,” Lorenzo says finally. Andrew waits for any elaboration but receives none - there’s nothing but silence stretching out as Lorenzo gets lost in his thoughts for a few moments.
“Lorenzo, I don’t know what you did, but I don’t want you getting yourself into any trouble because of me,” Andrew says, despite promising himself he wouldn’t bring it back up tonight.
Lorenzo looks over at him in surprise which slowly shifts to a fond smile. “I know you don’t, dear.” He glances at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting late. I should turn in, it’s been a long day.” Lorenzo walks towards the wall and flips the light switch in the dining area off.
It’s only then that Andrew processes the little things throughout their dinner that all click together with one final moment of revelation: Lorenzo isn’t just tired, he’s drained . He hasn’t used magic once since the portal to bring Andrew over from the Institute.
“Hey,” Andrew starts softly, reaching a hand out to rest on Lorenzo’s shoulder as he turns away from him. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I am. I just need a decent rest and I’ll be good as new,” Lorenzo says. “No need to worry.” But Andrew is worried, because Lorenzo guards his magic closely and never allows his reserves to get low enough to be a danger. Whatever he’d done to weaken himself this much… whatever Lorenzo isn’t telling Andrew about… the previous concern Andrew felt only compounds with the idea that this is even indirectly his fault.
“And I have just enough to portal you back to the Institute, so-”
Andrew cuts Lorenzo off with a shake of his head. “Absolutely not. I’ll take a cab.”
“Andrew, don’t be ridiculous.”
Andrew stubbornly stands his ground. “What’s ridiculous is that it took me so long to realize. I should’ve seen it sooner…”
“...at least spend the night, then. And I can portal you back in the morning?” Lorenzo amends his offer.
“Only if you let me draw us both a nice, relaxing bath before bed. I think we could both use it right now.” Andrew watches as the ultimatum draws a fond exasperation coupled with an overly dramatic eye-roll from Lorenzo.
“Alright,” Lorenzo finally agrees, and Andrew smiles, determined to take care of his boyfriend as best he can with what little he has to work with.
Andrew isn’t sure which of them Lorenzo is trying to protect more by remaining so stubbornly tight-lipped over what happened, but what he does know is that he isn’t about to let it drive a wedge between them if he can help it.
And whatever Lorenzo did that left him so out of sorts today, well, it better had been worth it.
#andrew underhill#lydia branwell#isabelle lightwood#lorenzo rey#shadowhunters#reyhill#listen i promise the tensions will fade okay#i need them to be happy eventually#just... not yet because i'm the worst#elle writes a few deadbeat lines#long post
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Pieces of April [5/?]
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530
Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.
Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)
Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who, not either of our boys!), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.
Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro.
Author’s Note: And now, for a change in POV!
First Chapter
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Of course, right after Jason leaves, the baby wakes up.
And starts to wail.
Tim freezes, all of his reflexes seemingly dissolved by the unyielding sound that such a tiny creature should not be able to produce.
Whatever Jason said about him being calm, in actuality, he’s completely freaked out over this whole baby thing.
Over the whole Jason’s baby thing.
This whole situation is just not in his area of expertise, nor does it require any of his previous training. And he can’t really see a situation where, on the infinitesimal chance Jason decides to give up vigilantism and become a stay-at-home-dad, he’d ever ask Tim of all people to babysit.
But then, right now, Jason’s not here.
The nurse from earlier returns, offering him a sympathetic look.
“It’s about time for her next feeding,” she tells him. “Do you want us to take her, or would you like to do it?”
Take her, please, Tim wants to say but bites his tongue.
He wasn’t talking out of his ass when he acknowledged that babies needed to be held. Human contact is good (even if that wasn’t basic medical knowledge, his own semi-neglected childhood can attest to that) and he all but volunteered himself for this to help Jason. He should at least do what he can.
Holding down the fort apparently includes holding down the baby…
“If you could just show me…?” he suggests, a sheepish smile pasted on and hopefully hiding his inner unease.
As expected, the woman’s expression turns into a mixture of amused and charmed. She chatters, motioning for him to take the chair Jason was sitting in before; Tim sits and lets her arrange the baby in his arms, showing him a light, gentle rocking motion to try to calm her.
“I’ll be right back with her formula,” the nurse says, though Tim barely hears her over the furious wailing.
He squints down at the scrunched-up face, trying to figure out how he ended up in this situation. Also, what exactly possessed him to call Jason his partner?
Because it’s the first believable thing to come to mind that didn’t involve spontaneous resurrections?
And technically, it’s even true. Sometimes.
And he was worried about Jason.
They may not be brothers, but they are family, and with that comes a certain awareness of each other. He knew the minute he saw Jason outside the dive bar that he was freaked out. He decided he would help him then, and he’s not about to back out now even if things have become way more complicated than anticipated.
The nurse returns with the bottle of formula, and as soon as she’s explained how to properly position and feed the baby—apparently there’s more to it than just sticking a synthetic nipple in her mouth and waiting for her to chug—and prevent gas, she vanishes again.
To allow them “bonding” time.
Not what I thought I’d be doing when I got up this morning…
Tim’s done the baby thing before—sort of. But Steph’s daughter was bigger when she was born. Jason’s is tiny, and Tim is half expecting her to break into pieces before his eyes. Whatever manufactured confidence he had before, had been in the moment—and mostly for Jason’s benefit.
It had been imperative to get the infant out of the other man’s arms while he was clearly on the verge of a panic attack. Especially since no one ever knows how a cornered Jason Todd might react.
Not that I think he’d ever hurt an infant, but he doesn’t exactly process shock the way normal people do. It never hurts to have contingencies.
As he watches the baby guzzle her formula with surprising gusto, Tim finds himself going over a mental list of things that have to be dealt with if they’re going to get through life’s latest curveball more or less intact.
Paperwork for the baby. Arrangements for the mother’s body.
Isabel Ardila.
He knows her name only from the files as the woman Jason was seeing prior to the Joker’s last assault on the bats. She was caught in the crossfire, forcibly dosed with heroin to play on Jason’s past traumas, and following her recovery, ended things with Jason.
Or Jason ended things with her, Tim’s not sure. He never asked and he doesn’t intend to.
However it ended, clearly there was enough estrangement that she didn’t bother to tell Jason he was a father. It’s a decision he can, unfortunately, imagine the reasons for, even if he’s not sure he agrees with them.
Not like we can do anything about that decision now, though.
The baby slowly goes limp in his arms, and Tim has a brief moment of irrational, paranoid panic—has she been drugged?—before realizing she’s just fallen back asleep.
“Right. Because that’s a normal thing that babies do,” he murmurs to himself, and carefully maneuvers himself over to her crib to put her down on her stomach, like he’s seen in countless television commercials.
Then, uncertain, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and does a quick internet search, balking at the sheer amount of SIDS related articles, and scoops her up again to reposition her on her back.
Should probably tell Jason about that when he gets back…
Assuming Jason comes back.
Or even wants his help.
Which, Tim decides, he’ll offer anyway. Though that may mean playing to his strengths more than anything, preparing for every eventuality and having a series of back-up plans.
He highly doubts Jason’s thinking of any of that right now.
Phone in hand Tim begins typing quickly, pulling up tabs in his search engines for whatever concern pops into his head as he reads.
He suspects Jason is too uneasy about the whole situation to want to keep the baby, so Tim’s going to have to research adoption agencies through official and unofficial channels.
Open or closed, not sure what option he’d go with.
And then, there’s always the small chance he will keep his child. It’s a possibility that seems as likely as Bruce’s sudden predilection for joining the Russian ballet, but stranger things have happened in the family.
He skims through several forums and advice blogs for how to care for a newborn, makes a list of important supplies they might need in the immediate future and forwards it to Tam.
It’s several minutes later that his phone chimes, notifying him of her list of replies.
- Why the hell did you send me a list with diapers?
- Is this for a baby?
- Omg, did you kidnap a baby?
- Is that a thing that happens?
-First ninjas, now baby-napping?
Tim sighs and rolls his eyes. Normally he’d find her bemused and slightly-panicked responses a little amusing, but he doesn’t have the energy to go into details, even if Jason hadn’t sworn him to secrecy.
-A friend of mine has an emergency. Drop everything off at my apartment, please.
There’s a beat, another chime, but Tim doesn’t get a chance to read the message as his screen suddenly switches. The air is filled with a generic ringtone that Tim hastily mutes, eyes flicking to the baby and back to his screen. The number flashes ‘Unknown’, but Tim recognizes the number from earlier that day.
He stands, wanders away from the crib to answer quietly. “What is it, Harper?”
“Jay called me,” the older man says without preamble. “Told me everything. About the kid, about Isabel.”
“Yeah,” Tim agrees quietly. “I’d say shock is an understatement.”
“No shit.” He sighs. “Listen, I talked him down as much as I could, but the rest is on you.”
“What? Why?”
“He says you’ve been helping him.”
“For now, until someone more qualified comes along,” Tim retorts, implication heavy in his voice.
Roy catches it because he lets out a bitter laugh. “Sorry to burst your bubble, bird boy, but that ain’t gonna be me.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve been in literally the same situation.”
“And I can’t right now. So I need you to be there for him.”
“He needs his friend,” Tim argues. “And he’s made very clear I’m not one of those.”
“Then you'd better become one fast, because I can’t.”
“Why the—” Tim’s eyes flick to the infant, and he can’t help giving in to the impulse to censor himself, lowering his voice, “—heck not?”
“Because I’m in a bad place right now,” Roy snaps. “I’m not in a good way for being around a kid, okay? I…” He pauses, like he’s weighing something, and then exhales. “I…fell off the wagon again.”
Tim's stomach sinks.
“Roy…”
“Don’t tell Jaybird,” Roy orders. “I just…I need to sort myself out before I can be any kind of help for him. I show up there now, I’ll just add to his problems.”
“But—”
“This is you being tagged in, okay? Don’t fuck it up.”
There’s a harsh click in Tim’s ear, leaving him listening incomprehensively to the dial tone for several seconds.
“Are you…are you kidding me?!” he hisses after a moment, only just refraining from throwing his phone across the room in frustration.
He didn’t realize before Roy’s call just how much he was counting on someone else to step in and take over in the emotional support department.
I’m not cut out for this. This sort of thing…it should be Dick. Or Alfred.
He spends the next hour once again reviewing what he did to get roped into all this.
When Jason comes back—and something inside Tim unknots in relief that he did come back—he’s as ashen-faced as before. This time, though, there’s a determined set to his shoulders.
They stand and stare at each other in silence for a good five minutes before Tim realizes Jason’s waiting for him to speak first.
Right. Tagged in. Let’s do this. Ease into it.
“So, what are you going to do?”
Tim winces.
Yeah, that wasn’t exactly subtle.
Jason doesn’t seem to notice the awkward, though.
“No idea,” he replies heavily, leaning against the doorjamb and letting his head thunk lightly against it.
“Social Services is obviously an option.”
“No way in hell,” Jason snaps, straightening up and looking fierce. “I don’t trust them. And you can’t tell me with all the Wayne resources you’ve got access to, we can’t find something better.”
Tim expected that. He might not have had the exact same harrowing experiences with foster care as Jason did, but his very brief stint left him with a hint of that same disillusion with the system.
It’s not something I’d wish on any kid, least of all Jason’s.
“We can look into it. Organize the best possible adoption scenario without dealing with Social Services. There are actually a lot of couples in the community who would be willing to adopt.”
“No. This kid isn’t growing up anywhere near capes or masks or stuff like that.”
Okay, that’s understandable. It also makes it less likely he intends to keep her.
“Whatever we do, it will take some time,” Tim cautions. “Placing a child with a family isn’t going to be as easy as sticking someone in Witness Protection.”
Jason snorts and shakes his head. “Only you would think that’s easy.”
“So, now that that’s figured out—what are you going to do once the tests are finished?” Tim asks, focussing on the practical. “I don’t find a family within the next day or so, you’re going to need to bring her somewhere. Assuming you’re adamant about keeping the rest of the Family out of this?” That receives only narrowed eyes in response. “Stupid question, sorry. But she’s going to have to stay somewhere until then. I wouldn’t recommend leaving her here at the hospital, for a number of reasons.”
Jasons frowns, thoughtful. Then,
“I’ll keep her for now,” he decides with a heaviness that Tim suspects is caused more by fear than dislike of children. “Until we find a better place for her. Some family that won’t mind doing this in private.”
“Okay,” Tim nods. “On that note—where exactly will you take her?”
Jason falters, looking like he’s not entirely sure what to say to that.
“I…my safehouses aren’t exactly babyproofed.”
“I don’t think that’s an issue until they start crawling,” Tim replies, trying for humor but the very idea sparks another flash of panic in Jason’s eyes. He’s looking at Tim now with something dangerously close to expectance, and a realization hits Tim.
He doesn’t want to be alone with this.
And it’s the fact he’s never seen Jason look so vulnerable that sparks a truly terrible idea.
I’m so going to regret this.
“I have a spare bedroom,” he offers, earning a sharp glance from Jason. “Just until you wrap your head around this and figure out the next move.”
He half expects Jason to scoff, or laugh in his face or say something insulting.
It’s decidedly worrying when the only thing that happens is Jason’s shoulders slump and he nods.
Jason’s shoulders slump, and he nods.
“Yeah. Yeah, that would be…good. Thanks, Drake.” He pauses, considering something, and then adds, “Tim.”
Next Chapter
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#jaytim#jaytim fanfiction#babyfic#accidental baby acquisition#enemies to lovers#Tim Drake#Jason Todd#Baby!Todd#coping with big news#eventual slash
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