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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

Text

Two Birds with One Stone (Bit 6 and The End)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 6

I finished it! Yay! Still @godsliltippy ‘s fault. I’m just happy to have this one off my plate because yesterday I wrote 2000 words of a new fic! I’m incurable, I have to say ::headdesk:: Like I have so many waiting to be finished ::wails::

But lookie! I finished one ::distracts all with this single finished fic waving it around with glee::

Many thank to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 and @janetm74 for all their support through this fic and of course to Tippy for sparking it in the first place with this glorious piece of art!

I can actually archive something cos it is finished! Yay!

I hope you enjoy it...cos it is finished! It’s a miracle!

-o-o-o-

“A combine harvester?!”

“Totally cool sounding, don’t you think? I’m adding it to my list.”

Virgil stared at his brother. “You have a list? Of what?”

“Dramatic stuff. Near misses. Things worth bragging about at the bar.”

Virgil blinked, fortunately with both eyes this time, since the swelling was starting to go down.

He was sitting up in bed, surrounded by flowers. Grandma had gone all out this time with two boys in the hospital. Fortunately, they wouldn’t be in much longer.

Alan had dragged in one of Virgil’s sketchbooks and to Virgil’s surprise, he had found the energy to draw for a little while, though his head wouldn’t take much.

And his head was more than one problem.

He was missing half his hair.

And he looked stupid.

Worse, there was a jagged slice in his scalp where apparently a piece of that combine harvester had made it through his helmet and nearly sliced him in half.

The thought was downright alarming and he shunted it to the back of his mind with not a little terror.

He would examine it later.

Later.

But the problem at the moment, apart from the bandages that conveniently hid the issue temporarily, he only had half a head of hair and it looked stupid.

He had to appreciate that Gordon hadn’t laughed. In fact, none of his brothers had laughed at him. He couldn’t fault them for that.

Though there was a sparkle in Gordon’s eye that foretold at least one comment in the future, even if it was fond and caring.

Besides…

He kept waking up to find Gordon sitting on the end of his bed.

It was done with nonchalance and a smile, but Virgil was beginning to suspect an underlying cause. Not that he couldn’t acknowledge that he was happy to see his little brother and sharing a room with him in hospital was actually a boon to the medical process, but honestly, Virgil was beginning to worry.

“Don’t you have a list?”

Of course, a fish without a pond tended to be a bored fish.

“No, not really.”

“You don’t count successful rescues?”

“John and Scott keep records. I don’t like to dwell.”

His little brother shrugged. “I get that.”

There was silence for a while and Virgil let himself settle back into his pillow. Dosing was a rare pleasure.

“So, you don’t take advantage of being a hero even a tiny bit?”

Virgil blinked and frowned. “What?”

Gordon rolled over holding his injured arm and settled so he could see Virgil clearly. “You know, leverage a little heroism to start a conversation? Get one up on the stiffs at parties?”

He stared at his brother. “Are you having trouble at Penny’s charity functions?”

“Nooo.”

Okay, that meant yes. “You should talk to her, Gords.” He shrugged. “Need a wingman? I could come with.” Though he had to admit, he could see where Gordon was coming from. Some of those attendees were definitely stiffs who had never lifted a finger to help anyone but themselves in their entire lives.

“I can handle it.”

Okay, Virgil was definitely filching an invite to the next one. Could even drag in Scott. Big bro would torch the social scene. He wasn’t a fan, but he could play...to every other man’s detriment.

Or Virgil could ask John. Having a genius brother in orbit who had a daughter who had been told off several times already for influencing the stock market was an advantage.

“Virgil, stop the plotting. It is fine. I’ve got this. I just flex a little muscle, mention a few scars and spin a few tales. Joe WallStreet, or whatever they call it in London, doesn’t stand a chance.”

He eyed his brother. The urge to step in was strong.

Gordon smirked. “It is fine. Besides, you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon with that hairstyle.”

It was an obvious subject change, but it still earned Gordon a blistering glare. “Shut up.”

A snort and Gordon capitulated. “Don’t worry, bro, it’s cool. Shave the other side, get yourself some tatts and no one will ever question you on a rescue ever again.” The second snort was almost a giggle.

If only he could reach Gordon, clap him up the head.

There must have been something in his expression because Gordon burst out laughing, rolling on the bed, holding his arm to his side.

“You’re an ass.”

“And you, my dear artist bro, are entertaining.”

“Shove it.”

But at least Gordon was smiling.

Virgil would take that any day.

-o-o-o-

Gordon was up and about long before Virgil and took to disappearing from time to time into the depths of the hospital, often with one brother or the other and on several occasions, with Penelope.

Virgil didn’t get out much. He still had headaches and occasional dizzy spells, a lead on from a massive concussion and was the reason why they were still in hospital. Virgil had no doubt Gordon could probably have gone home, but was hanging about just because Virgil couldn’t.

If it pinned Gordon under medical observation and not in the ocean after such a serious injury, Virgil wasn’t going to argue. But it was frustrating that he himself wasn’t very mobile and he was sick of staring at the ceiling tiles.

They always bugged him as his artistic brain always constructed designs out of them and they always lacked symmetry.

Grandma, Alan, John, Scott and even Kayo were regular visitors. The Tracy clan had parked themselves in a nearby hotel, no doubt fueling both news agencies and the local economy.

Virgil just wanted to go home.

And Scott was out of sorts.

Scott was always out of sorts when a member of the family was injured, but this was different. And it was bugging Virgil.

Between his own injuries and the inability to pin his brother down due to interruptions and the lack of alone time, whatever it was that was bugging Scott was festering.

Topeka hospital was a familiar place to all of them. It had been their local major hospital for much of their formative years and considering the tornado seasons and IR responses, a regular delivery point for rescuees. There was a rooftop garden that had been sat in on several occasions in the past and it was with some conniving that Virgil spoke to Kayo to arrange for a corner of it to be secured so Virgil could go and sit up there for a bit of fresh air and privacy with his big brother.

He had no doubt that Scott knew he was being railroaded, but the lack of protest just emphasised how troubled his big brother was.

The sounds of the city below were no longer familiar and Virgil found himself longing for the ocean and the quiet of Tracy Island. It was evening, the sun having just set and the sky was a welcome sight after being confined to ceiling tiles for a few days, but the stars were dim, hidden by light pollution and a touch of smog.

It made him even more homesick.

“You okay, Virg?”

Scott had pushed him up here in a hoverchair. Virgil still needed it due to the dizzy spells and it ticked him off to no end. “Just homesick.”

Hi brother sighed. “Won’t be long. A couple of days and I’ll take you down to the beach and you can lay on the sand and stare at the stars to your heart’s content.”

Virgil shot him a glare. “I’m not John.”

“But you miss the stars anyway.”

Virgil grumbled. “I’m just used to seeing them.” He waved at hand at the sky. “It’s not the same.”

“Uh huh.” Scott was smiling in that condescending big brother knows better way he was so good at.

“Shut up.”

Scott didn’t stop grinning, he just dragged the ‘chair backwards until it nestled beside a park bench and then sat himself down beside Virgil.

They sat in silence for a while and Virgil let the soundscape seep into him. It was quieter up here than inside the hospital. There was a breeze with the scent of farmland under that pervasive smell of the city and cooling concrete. The breeze spoke of a possible storm in the distance. Virgil hoped it wasn’t a supercell. He had had enough of tornadoes for some time.

He missed the scent of the sea.

A sigh. He was being pathetic and falling into the doldrums over nothing. He was getting better. He would be home soon.

And screw it, he would plant his butt on a beach and drag Scott with him just to piss him off.

“You okay?”

Huh? Scott was peering at him, that worry ever persistent in the darkness of his eyes.

“It is you who I’m worried about.” So, it was defensive, big deal. Needed to start the conversation somehow.

“Me? I’m not the one who took on a combine harvester and nearly lost.”

“It wasn’t exactly a choice, you know.”

“I know.” It was quiet and Virgil knew he had hit the nail on the head.

“Talk to me, Scott.”

“About what?”

Virgil flat-eyed glared at him. “About whatever has been bugging you the last few days.”

“I would have thought that was obvious with two brothers in the hospital.” Definitely defensive.

“No. This is more.”

“What? There are degrees? I don’t need analysis, Virg.”

Virgil pressed his lips together. “You’re hurting. You’re not talking. What other recourse do I have?”

“Do you need one?”

“Of course, I do! You’re you! Whatever this is, it’s weighing on you and I hate to see you in pain.”

“I’m not in pain. It’s you who was injured.”

“If you’re trying to tell me that doesn’t affect you, you’re either lying through your teeth or I should be even more worried because you’ve obviously suffered brain damage of some kind and are no longer the Scott Tracy I know. Perhaps I should check you for a holographic disguise.”

Scott let out an annoyed scoff and shot to his feet, his actions agitated. “Virg, it’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Goddamnit, Virgil-“

“Talk to me!” And yelling apparently hurt his head, because it throbbed in protest. He grit his teeth and glared up at his brother. Please, Scott, for both our sakes.

“It was close, okay? Too damned close.”

Virgil swallowed. He knew that. “Not the first time.”

“So, I should be used to it by now?” Despite the darkness, Scott was lit up with internal fire.

“No.”

But he had finally triggered the avalanche and Scott spilled it all over him.

“Do you have any idea how close this was? Millimetres and you wouldn’t be here anymore, Virg.”

“Again, not the first time.”

“But it was so senseless!” Scott’s hands shot out palm up, desperate for understanding. “You weren’t even in the middle of a rescue. The sky just opened up, stabbed down a twister and threw a chunk of farm machinery at you. It lasted mere seconds and it nearly took both of you. Why? If you had landed a few metres further away, if you had been a few seconds later in arrival, hell, the margin for error was astronomical, yet, it still happened. I nearly lost you and Gordy for no damned reason whatsoever!”

“You need a reason?”

“Goddamned, I do! If I’m going to lose a brother, at least it should be for a reason. A sacrifice made for the good of all.”

“You know it doesn’t work that way.” Virgil’s heart was thudding in his chest.

“Well, it should. We do so much, sacrifice so much already, I don’t think it is too much to ask. We’ve already lost...” Scott shoved his face into his hands and parked himself back on the park bench. “Why the hell do you ask me these things?”

Ever so quiet. “Because they need to be asked.”

“I hate it.”

“I know.”

“I nearly lost you for nothing.”

“We were there for a reason. We both went in knowing the danger, you know that.”

“Doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“I’d be worried if it did.” Virgil sighed. “We survived, Scott. Thanks to you. You were fast enough.”

The grunt and groan that made it out between his brother’s fingers was pain itself.

The hoverchair made it awkward, but Virgil reached out and snagged his big brother with an arm and hauled him in the best he could. Scott, of course, protested, but Virgil’s arms were not injured and he was always smug that he had at least one thing racked up on the achievement scale that beat his almighty big brother and that was strength.

So, Scott was dragged into a hug whether he wanted it or not.

“Still here.”

Scott grumbled something unintelligible.

“Gords is adding it to his story list to tell at Penny’s parties.”

“He’s what?”

Distraction achieved.

“Wanna drop by Penny’s next charity dinner and play wingman to Gords? You get to take a few stiffs down a peg or million. Apparently, a few asses need a big brother kicking. We can break out Johnny and Eos for extra fun, if you like.”

“Who’s been messing with Gordon?” There it was. Exactly the trigger point needed.

“The Joe Wallstreets seem to think they are better than a fish Tracy.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. Want to help me educate them? Though admittedly Gords was doing quite well on his own, higher education is always a good thing.”

Scott was staring at him in the darkness. It was obvious his brother knew exactly what Virgil was doing.

“I’ll be there.”

“Great. It will be good PR for whatever charity Penny is supporting. With a bit of luck we can play it to her advantage as well.”

Scott was still staring at him.

“What?”

Ever so quiet. “What would I do without you?”

Virgil swallowed, desperately ignoring all the implications and the reverse of that question. “Here’s hoping we never find out.”

Scott sighed and let his head drop onto Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil just tugged him a little tighter and returned to trying to see the stars.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #thunderbirds fanart #godsliltippy

51 notes · View notes

vinylhazza · 5 years ago

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Can you write a lil thing about confiding in your best friend (either twin) about your abusive relationship and then he helps you leave and shows you real love. I'm in a abusive relationship atm and I wish I had it :(

LEAVE HIM FOR ME (G.D)

warning: mention of physical abuse, trauma, mention of sexual abuse, angst, fluff

*italics are flashbacks/past conversations*

grayson would have been trying for so long to figure out where the bruises were coming from. he stopped at nothing to try and pry the information out of you until he finally started to back up after you got angry at him one evening for not letting it go.

“just let it the fuck go grayson, i fell. i told you that.” or “yeah straightener is a bitch you know? you’re not a girl you wouldn’t understand gray, i’m okay.”

you knew he was trying to help, but feared that giving them the knowledge would only make it worse. your jackass of a boyfriend was dangerous, you knew it even if he didn’t. he could hurt him, and that was the last thing on earth you would ever want - for grayson to be hurt. you would get teary eyes and a flustered blush when he noticed your frown at the mention of the bastards name. it was like a shock to your system. with grayson...everything was different. you weren’t weak. you weren’t some piece of meat that could be abused and used whenever he pleased. you weren’t a derogatory name that seemed to define you.

he kept you safe. he kept you warm when you shivered. he made sure you ate when he notices you haven’t touched a single piece of food all day, takes e time to cook your favorite meal of all. he would care for you, wait on your every hand and foot when you felt ill, make that special soup his ma taught him when he was younger, he knows how much it helps. he braids your hair to help you calm down, and he’s actually very good at it. something about the tenderness and care he gives you when he’s messing with your hair immediately eases your stress, and you don’t know it, but he has a small smile the entire time.

God that man would love the fuck out of you, just waiting in the shadows for you to see that he was right there, waiting to give you all the love that he could give. Grayson’s love language was physical touching, he loved to have his hair played with, back scratches, hugs that last too long, having your legs propped up over his lap as you watch a netflix special. he often watches you close in those moments, running his own fingers through your hair, deep slow massages, and sometimes....he even leaned in for a kiss on your cheek, your forehead, and when he was especially clingy, your neck. you didn’t think anything of, even tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach - the butterflies swirling around like a tornadoe. and you especially ignore the clenching in your lower region, trying to convince yourself it’s not him in particular but the lack of affectionate touches you never receive from your boyfriend.

deep down, you know your heart tells you different. but you aren’t a cheater and how could you leave? you know he would come after you, after your family, after grayson, even after ethan if he’s as crazy as you thought he was.

the first time he hit you, was the first night he ever yelled at you as well. it had been sudden, out of nowhere, shocking. he was...not right that day. he was irritable, not really speaking to you all that much...just quite frankly being a dick. your love language is physical touch just like graysons, but...not that kind. you had just wanted to hug him, maybe give him a reassuring squeeze to let him know you were there to help him and be there for him through whatever it was he was struggling with. you know how hard it is to be in your own head and have no one to share your pain with.

but his hand slapping into like a tidal wave prevented that from ever happening.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?! can’t you see i want to be left the fuck alone?! are you fucking dumb?! get out!”

you spent the whole night crying, curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around you tight, a bag of frozen peas pressed up against your right cheek. in the morning when you woke up with a groan, you stumbled into the bathroom to find a black and blue bruise right along your cheek bone - a hateful looking mark. this...this wasn’t love.

“such a slutty, dumb little bitch. thinking you can wear that out and strut around like a whore? then i’ll treat you like a whore.”

he never apologized and the violence never stopped. the punches became more frequent, and it was getting so hard for you to hide them that you began making excuses: falling, fluke accidents that sometimes made no sense, dropping something, bumping into things. but everytime you made up a lie, it took a piece of you away. a piece of you that you felt would always in some way be connected to him. to his viscous words, actions, and those little moments that kept convincing you to stay.

you stayed for the rare moments he would smile, the times that would remind you of the man you fell for - the one that didn’t exist anymore. you knew you were foolish and anyone with a brain could see right through your stupid lies and excuses, but you simply avoided talking about him. he made you think it’s what you deserved. and after a while you believed it.

you stopped being sexually attracted to him in the very beginning, when the hitting first began...but he...he was a man of selfish desire. take what he wants and be on his way, keep treating you like dirt, keep kicking you while he knew you had no fighting chance. he took advantage of your body, used you like a toy and threw you away. made you think it was a yes even when you screamed no. a hand over your mouth, his tongue down your throat, you didn’t have a choice.

grayson knew it all along. he knew the bastard hit you. he knew the disgusting filth of a man you would go ‘home’ to. he knew it wasn’t your true home. your home was him. your home was grayson. but you had to keep him safe, hence the reason you never admitted to the consistent mental, physical, and sexual abuse. but grayson refused to do nothing, stand by and watch the women he loved suffer all alone, determined to be your knight in shining armor, save you from the villain trying to ruin your beautiful life so full of purpose.

“what am i supposed to do e? he’s hurting her, like really hurting her. the bruise on her neck isn’t a fucking burn it looks like a goddamn hand was choking her to death. what am i supposed to do? tell me what to do.”

Distraught was an understatement when it came to a teary eyed grayson sitting at the foot of his brothers bed. you had left after a movie night, having to lie to your boyfriend and tell him you were at a girlfriends house, you’ve already been beat up for even mentioning graysons name. you would never make that mistake again.

ethan sat straight up against his headboard, pulling at the stubble on his chin, brow furrowed with a concerned, and angry, scowl.

“the asshole thinks he can just get away with hurting her because she sits there and takes it...it’s killing me. God how did she get herself into this mess...i just feel...useless. i’m supposed to protect her e, that’s what you do for the people you love and i fucking fail her over and over again everyone i let her walk out the front door of this house,” grayson grumbled, leaning over the bed with his head in his hands. his shoulders were tensing, something that usually happens when he’s especially stressed or upset about something.

“i’m sure ‘taking it’ isn’t exactly what she’s doing. she’s scared. he’s a big guy gray, a dangerous guy, he can really do damage to her if she tries to fight him back,” ethan mutters, not wanting to make his brother more upset. it didn’t seem to be working, “you know this isn’t her fault and so do i gray. a man like that will stop at nothing to control her every move. it’s an act of dominance, control, he wants to rule every action, every thought, every move she might make. if we do anything, we need to do it fast, and do it in a clever way that won’t get her fucking killed by that psychopath.

“it’s just impossible to sit here and have her flinch when i try to touch her...i would never fucking hurt her. i never have. and i know it’s so hard for her to trust anyone with all of the shit she has to deal with...but God dammit i would move heaven and hell for that girl and i need to save her,” grayson sits up, a noticeable tear streaming down his face. his love was evident in his every word, “i’ll take my time. make her see she deserves better. whatever the fuck she needs to convince her to leave that dumbfuck, i’ll do it. i just need help e, that’s all i’m asking.”

“of course gray, you know i got your back. and i have y/n’s too. we are gonna get her away from that creep and show her what real love is. not that fake disgusting shit he claims it is. doesn’t even know what the fuck it means and he has no business using that word frankly.” ethan’s tone is clipped, sharp, and deep - he would do whatever he could to get away just like grayson would. granted he’s not in love with you, but he doesn’t have love for you, and he would still do anything to protect you, “but be patient with her. a guy like that stops at nothing to tear down a woman until she thinks she deserves what’s coming to her. she accepts the pain because she is trained to live in silence. we need to break that silence and make sure that she knows it’s okay to tell us and we would never put her in danger.”

there is silence for a moment, full of tension, worry, for their friend. graysons worries if he speaks, he might cry. instead he ops for bouncing his knee in a steady rhythm, something you taught him to do when he felt restless. and it helps. but with a deep breath he’s turning back to ethan.

“okay so, how do we do it?” grayson stands, ready to take on whatever it is to get her in his arms safe and sound. even if that means hurting her jackass of a boyfriend. hopefully soon to be ex, he thought.

“well, i think maybe tricking her into a little intervention is the only way to go about it. or maybe one of us can convince her to spill the beans. it might be too much on her if we both start hounding her with questions she’s scared to answer. i’m sure some of them are very personal. we can’t freak her out, she’s already so fragile.” grayson knew he was right. he needs to proceed with caution. maybe if he could convince her he’s who she belongs with...confesses to his desires and wishes maybe she would have the strength to leave. if that’s even what she wanted. if not it would ruin their friendship and she would still be in a bad situation.

“true...if we go to their apartment fists up and ready to fight, it will probably make it worse and fall back on her. she’s doesn’t need any more problems than she already has. i mean hell, she’s even scared to sleep anymore,” grayson ponders. he remembers the nights she would stay over when her boyfriend was away gallivanting with whatever floosy he could find. cheating abusive bastard that he was. then it dawned on him.

“what if, and hear me out, what if we just move her out and have her live with us? i mean the guy doesn’t know where we live and fuck it i’ll get security if i have to. we’ve been needing it for a while anyway. she would be safe, protected, and with her closest friends who wouldn’t let a damn thing happen to her,” grayson tried to explain himself, gauging ethans reaction to see if he had a disapproving face.

to his surprise, he didn’t. in fact, it was like a lightbulb clicked inside of his head. with a clap of his hands he’s standing.

“that’s actually a great idea. i don’t know when he leaves or whatever the dumbfuck does but when he does we can go over there and get all of her stuff out and move her in here. we just have to make sure we know when he leaves, when he comes back, and most importantly if she will even say yes.”

it was three days after when you finally stopped by. the bruises on the left side of your neck and cheekbone fading away. graysons heart broke every time he saw the purplish hue on your face. he would kill him if he could. he would do whatever it took to keep you safe. he just had to do it like a civilized human being. he knew that at least if you’re on his property and your stupid bitch if a boyfriend came by...well let’s just say he wouldn’t be so forgiving.

he pulled you into the backyard with the sun just sinking under the horizon. he wondered how you managed to sneak away without a scratch, but hopefully it would be the last time you had to.

“i need to talk to you about something,” grayson started, pulling at your hand to bring you further into the backyard, standing in the grass just beside the pool. he was nervous, palms sweating already. this was a big moment, and it could change everything for them.

“is it about the last piece of banana bread? cause i ate that like a week ago and if you just now noticed maybe you don’t really love it like you claim you-“ you started, teasing him with a smile. always the jokester. he wondered how you found the strength the smile. but he cut you off before you could finish. his frown had your smile wilting.

“i know he’s hitting you. don’t try and hide it either like you always do. you always try and cover up his abuse and his fucking disgusting behavior. and i understand you’re scared, y/n. but this ends now. i don’t care what i have to do to make you see you deserve better but this...this isn’t it. you have so much to give and deserve someone that would burn the whole fucking world down to keep you safe. so stop pretending and tell me the truth.” there it was. that face he was dreading. the face of absolute terror.

he knew. he fucking knew.

you thought you had been good at hiding it from him, from everyone really. even your mother loved your boyfriend. she often said he was “good for you” that she was happy you found him when you did because “he’s the only one that’s really ever gotten you under control”. you haven’t talked to her in months, to say the least.

grayson recieves a chest rattling silence. something he wasn’t expecting from a girl that was known for word vomit and stuttering all over herself trying to get a thought out fast enough before it slipped away. but you stared at him with wide, misty eyes. you were scared - frozen in his backyard. you couldn’t believe he had come right out and called you on your bullshit. but you knew it was coming, you tried your hardest to hide it, but grayson wasn’t stupid.

with a slow shake of your head, you swallow the tears threatening to escape your eyes. you won’t be weak in front of grayson. you spent so much time being weak because of him, but no, not in front of grayson. he deserved better than someone that couldn’t even escape a white boy she fell for after a run in at the movie theater. he deserves someone that can fight for herself.

“so you know. you and ethan i’m assuming?”

a nod with more silence. he is watching you, not exactly staring, but certainly focused on watching you try and hold yourself together. you know ethan is somewhere close by, watching this go down from his own little hide out. you’re half tempted to yell out to the house and tell him to get the hell out there and face you, but then you know you’d have to confess the truth in front of not one, but two of the most important people in your life.

“...what then? you want me to sit here and cry? you want me to break down and talk to you about all the times i’ve come over here and lied? pretending everything was okay and putting a smile on my face? because believe it or not this is my safe place and i’d rather not think of him. you make me forget. i just wanted to forget and i know that hurts you that i didn’t say anything but i don’t know what i’m supposed to do right now gray...” your voice is thick with emotion, hands coming up to twist at the flowy tank top resting on your torso. it suddently became very chilly in the backyard that felt previously warm in the suns dying moments until morning.

“i’m not letting this go. not like all those times before. i had my suspicions, had those little clues that would pop out when i reached to tuck your hair out of your face, or help you with the laundry you still do even when you don’t have to. you would jump, y/n...from me. and i would never,” he swallows, you can feel all the strength it’s taking him not to show you just how much he wants to cry, “i would never, hurt you. there isn’t a bone in my body that would ever touch you in any way other than love and adoration. i know it’s because of him. he’s - he’s fucking sick, y/n. he’s twisted and made it almost impossible for you to live a normal life. you snuck over here didn’t you? it’s nearly 8.” you know he won’t let it go until you answer, so you give him another small nod, biting at your bottom lip and flinching at the tear that drops down onto your cheek. it would wash away that pathetic layer of concealer you put on, exposing more of the purplish bruise he left there.

“where is he? let me guess - he said he was going to “tanners” right?” his voice remains calm, with just a hint of a grit there to show how truly disgusted he was by the man that abused you time and time again.

another nod and small sniffle.

you felt like a child getting caught by your parents for sneaking out.

you and grayson both knew there was no tanner. there was and never would be. it was just another girl he decided to fuck around with before coming back to control you, make you feel like the disloyal one. make you feel like the monster.

“and what happens when he comes back and you’re not there huh? what happens if he comes back early and wants you to text him a picture of where you are? actually fuck that have you even thought that maybe the psychopath put a tracker on your phone? ...why are you back away? hey hey come here it’s okay i’m not mad at you,” grayson is trailing off into an apology when he notices the distance beginning to grow between your two bodies. he was near yelling at the end of his little speech and you’ve learned enough to know what yelling means. of course he said he wouldn’t hurt you, but that’s exactly what he said in the beginning too. and look where you are now.

before you can back away from his touch any further, he’s tugging you into a hug, cradling the back of your head against his chest. his heart beat was steady, the calm thumping easing your own nerves. he never held you like this. grayson wasn’t him. it was unfair to be afraid of everyone because someone tried to stifle your fire. with your body tucked into his arms, grayson rocks side to side on the bottom of his shoes, eyes closed and chin resting on the top of your head. you liked to be held when you’re upset and overwhelmed and he knew it. it helped ground you.

he’s pulling away too soon, swiping a hand through his hair in frustration. you know it’s hard for grayson to express his emotions sometimes. giving him the same patience he gives you is the least you could do. you stand quietly in front of the tall block of muscle, arms crossed once again - a comfort mechanism you’ve taken up over the past few months - and wait for him to sort his thoughts out and try again.

“i didn’t mean to yell but dammit, y/n. i mean it when i say you can trust me. i know he’s ruined so many things but this - us - isn’t going to be one of them. he doesn’t get the satisfaction of pushing us apart. you -“ a huff “you’re too...special to let go. and it’s his own fault he can’t see it.” from the dead serious look in his hazel eyes, you know he means every word.

you wouldn’t say grayson is entirely closed off, especially when he’s always touching you in secret, tender ways when no one else is looking. he tells you secrets he’s scared to tell anyone else. he’s not a secret. he’s just in some way...scared just like you.

“gray i don’t know what to tell you...it’s not as easy as you’re making it seem. and yeah he has ways of tracking me i’m sure, but i can’t just go without you you idiot. that would kill me. it would fucking break me and i hate that you’re making me admit it.” he frowns at the break in your voice.

“leave him,” graysons voice is soft, but more serious than you’ve ever heard it. so deep rooted with...something you can’t quite catch...that it makes you shiver.

“gray...”

it’s not that simple. you can’t leave a man that has his grip on you too tight. you can’t just leave a man that has made it his goal to make sure it never happens. you can’t just leave because you wish to be with the love of your life...you can’t just...want love when you’re trapped with no hope of escape. especially when that very same person whose love you yearn for is promising it to you, unknowing of the sure consequence.

he doesn’t give you a chance to turn him down, say anything more that will certainly be a way to weasel yourself out of this. he knows you’re in denial, denial of what there is blossoming between you, the bod consuming desire to always be touching whenever you are together - whether it be a pinky hooked around another, an arm over your shoulder, an arm around his waist, fingers massaging at your scalp. whatever it was, it was real.

“might i make a suggestion gray?” ethan frowns, biting at the skin of his bottom lip, now raw with his anxious assault.

“whatever it is make it good because i’m not changing my mind,” grayson grunted, slicing his bananas at a quicker pace. he’d have to build up strength for this conversation, lord knows it’s going to tire him out. you’re a tough one to crack. another reason that he fucking loved you so much.

“tell her how you feel before it’s too late. i’m sure you’ll be pleased with the outcome.”

how could he be so sure?

fire twists in your tummy as grayson inches towards you, eyes narrowed right at your own misty orbs. with irises blown out and black, he tucks that cussed piece of hair behind your ear. with his fingers feathering across the skin of your cheekbone, another tear drops to your cheek. it streaks a hot river across the skin, chipping away that milky concealer, a mask to hide the evil. the way he gazed at you like you were and always would be the most beautiful treasure, only made you confirm to yourself that it was torture to love someone you were scared to have.

“i know you feel this...don’t fight it...just let me show you how good this can feel...how it’s supposed to feel” his voice had switched from one of raw emotion to one of earnest and...need.

within an instant he is grabbing your face and pulling you close by the back of your neck, a hand digging deeply into your mane of hair. he made a fist to secure you to him, afraid if he let go you might disappear. another hand was pressed against your cheek - being careful to not apply direct pressure to your bruise, instead rubbing it tenderly with his thumb. his touch not only eased the pain, but the memories that matched themselves to it. soft plump lips landed on yours perfectly with a hum resonating in his chest. it was a pathetic, needy sound - one that made you aware that he really meant it. he’s been waiting for this. to have your lips smashed up against his. it was like an itch he’s been waiting to scratch, now relieved. he takes his time to let himself feel his way through the kiss - initially feeling your shocked lips at a stand still.

he almost backs away in defeat, but then... you’re sighing, a satisfied, eager sigh tossed between the two of you. biting at his bottom lip felt like a burst of unashamed power coursing through your veins. your tiny nimble fingers are tugging at his white cotton t-shirt and pulling him even closer if possible, goose flesh tracking from your shoulders down to your fingertips. youve kissed let that be known, a guy here or there, but none of those kisses had ever felt like this. before registering how much trouble you would get in if he ever found out what you were doing and how good it felt doing it, you are tilting your head to the side and moving your lips against his greedily. humming into his mouth and pushing your front against his flat. fuck his kiss felt so good. his lips were patient and languid, lapping like smooth waves of the ocean. persistent.

his hands made sure to move your face just the right way, get just the right angle, sure he could feel you turning weak at the knees already. not anything like any other kiss you’ve been given. it’s patient, tender, purposeful - that purpose being to convey just how much you mean to him and always will mean. the way he’s kissing you is a desperate move to tell you how he feels without having to say it just yet. this is everything you’ve ever wanted but never knew you could have, or feel, or want.

his tongue is slipping into your mouth when you gasp in shock at the electric fire burning through your senses and into every nerve in your body. your hands feel tiny on his massive biceps, but he loves the feeling of your thumbs rubbing at his skin while he kisses you so deep. your tongues danced together, the kiss stealing your breath away. it was fierce and passionate, everything you thought kissing him would be like. you had daydreamed about this moment forever, and you couldn’t believe it was finally happening. especially not like this. not when you’re a damsel in distress, waving your pathetic hand at the top of the tower in hopes your knight in shining armor would come and save you. the day had finally come.

he’s pulling away slowly, begrudgingly, panting from working his mouth so hard against yours. wanting to take it farther than a kiss, but understanding enough to know it would take a lot more time to be at that poin - no matter how bad you both wanted it. your trauma lurked beneath the surface, a fight for another day. he poured everything into that kiss. the rosy red color of his skin being a testament to that. he hoped you knew just how much it meant to him. from the way you stared at his mouth in a trance, he knew it meant just as much to you. the look of wanting in your eyes made him shiver.

“you want me?”

the best you give him is a puffed out “yes” between your lips, staring at his own longingly. it was a pathetic sound, a cringe fighting to shrink in your shoulders and hide yourself from him, but you accepted it as it came. you wanted more. you thought for a split second that you couldn’t imagine never feeling that again. electric. strong. like fireworks igniting in your body over and over. your eyes travel slowly from his mouth to his soft wishful eyes, feeling the sudden urge to cry again.

“leave him for me,” his whisper is pained, vulnerable and aching for you to want him back. need him back. love him back.

“but i can’t have you, you know i can’t. he won’t allow me to leave him.” God it killed you to even say it. You wanted to throw caution to the wind, and in a way you had, but to throw it all out would mean putting him in the line of fire - and you didn’t know if you could bare seeing him burnt.

“yes you can, you can have me. every hour of everyday. you can fucking have me. you have always had me, y/n. i think you know that. i can’t lie anymore. not when it means this much to me. he won’t keep you a prisoner. i refuse for it to happen. i know you want this as much as i do. i feel it. i’ve always felt it. if you don’t leave for you, then leave for me. just...you have to let me protect you.”

the way he says it, just holding you in place, forehead resting against yours in an attempt to stop the tears bubbling behind his eyes. it killed him to see you caged like an animal when you wanted so badly to be free. he would do whatever the fuck he needed to do and he swore his life on it. whether you believed it or not.

“but how? he’s a psycho grayson the man beat me for getting gas without telling him. i was gone for 5 minutes.“

“i know sh, i know it sounds crazy and reckless,”

“really reckless,” you tutted, popping your lips out in a dissatisfied pout. it was cute but he needed to focus.

“- just hear me out. me and ethan have a plan that involves no contact, and if he does show up i don’t think you are underestimating the lengths we will go to, to make sure he doesn’t lay a finger on this beautiful body of yours. he doesn’t get to have you anymore, he abused that privilege, literally. he didn’t appreciate and cherish what he had so now it’s over. you won’t ever have to see him again. but it’s gonna take a little cooperation and for you to be that sneaky little detective i know that you are.” he waits for your reaction, confused that your eyes are still closed, your thumbs still rubbing at his forearms. it was peaceful. for the first time, you felt protected. and really understood. important. valued. loved. whole fuck you felt loved.

“i don’t know how much help i can be,” you choked, voice a lot weaker than you wanted it to sound. truth is, it was taking every bone in your body not to kiss him again, get that fire ignited again. but you had to focus. one battle at a time. beat the dragon, then you get the prince.

“how about this, you and i, we go back in the house, i’ll sit you down on the counter - yeah that’s right the counter - because i don’t give a fuck if ethan thinks it’s unsanitary. i’m gonna cook you you’re favorite meal, kiss those beautiful lips for as long as i want,” he pauses to dip his head down, pecking your lips slowly as an example, a butterfly flew through your core, wings licking at the buzzing nerves, “and explain every tiny detail until you understand just how serious we are about getting you away from that sick creep. i may be persistent but my brother is a determined mother fucker too and he cares about you, y/n. as much as he loves to tease you and throw his little tantrums when you eat the last piece of pizza - he cares so much. and he wants you to be safe. to be with us. be with me...if that’s what you want.”

“as in like...live with you? are you sure that’s a good idea? i mean i kind of have a crazy guy on my back you sure you guys want that baggage?” you’re tone is lighthearted and witty, but he knows that’s just you trying to hide how nervous you were.

“you know, when you love someone, their baggage becomes your baggage. you have that weight together and find the strength to carry it along the way. at least that’s what i’ve found out.”

when you love someone

when he loves someone

when grayson loves...

he loves you

“you love me?” the gleam in your eye is too obvious to miss, the excitement of a child, the joy of a rich man, the satisfaction of a sinner, the bliss of a saint.

“maybe a little,” he grins, lips dropping onto random areas of your face, making their way slowly down, down, down to your blush pink lips. the feeling of them puckering had him pulling you closer again.

“is it too much to ask that you say it again? just for good measure.” your request has him chuckling in your ear, hair tickling you when he bobs his head in a nod.

“i love you,” he sighs, finger hooked under your jaw to tilt your head to the side, sealing his lips down onto yours again. breathing in the sweet scent of your perfume. it drowned his every sense.

it felt so fucking good to say that.

it sounded like your favorite melody. and somehow, as cheesy as it sounded, it gave you strength. gave you that extra power you needed to know that this life did have a purpose beyond pain and misery. it had people like grayson. people like ethan. people that cared about you. people that protected you. people that were ready to do anything they had to do just to make sure you knew how loved you really were.

“i love you too.” it slipped out without you knowing. your hand itched to slap over your mouth, cover up the ultimate betrayal against the monster somewhere off in LA cheating on you again, planning his next attack against you. but no, you wouldn’t feel guilty about loving him. not when it’s the strongest emotion you’ve ever felt. not when it was the truth. and not when he’s cradling you in his arms promising a future beyond the pain and sadness you’ve been stuck in for so long. so for good measure, and just because it felt like a breath of fresh air, you say it again, “i love you.”

“oh fuck,” he breathes through a disbelieving grin, picking you up by the back of your thighs and spinning you around in circles. your legs hooked around his waist tightly, squealing laughter echoing throughout the backyard. this is the freest you’ve felt in so so long. he slows down to a sway once again, turning your head to kiss you slowly, pushing his tongue between your lips to dance with yours again.

“slow down, slow down, we still have something to do yeknow,” you breathe, a lazy smile aimed at his own delighted eyes. he looked so free and it shocked out for some reason that you were the cause of that look.

“no no you’re right i’m sorry, i’m just happy. feels good when you know the girl you love is safe for once. but i guess we do have to go talk to ethan about the insufferable douchebag you chose to date for whatever ungodly reason. must have had a magical dick or something cause the man is lacking in all other categories,” grayson mocks, setting you back into the flats on your feet and imtertwining your fingers together, leading you back toward the house where you presume ethan is waiting somewhere close by.

“actually no, he never really uh...finished the job in that department. was kind of selfish. but i managed,” you tut, rubbing your thumb over the skin on his hand, loving the feeling of him against you in any way you could get. you knew you were so touch starved, but didn’t care if it felt this good.

he stopped at the sliding glass door, face dully lit by the yellow of the light from the kitchen, pointing a defined eyebrow at you in a displeased scowl, the fucker didn’t even make you cum? with a shake of his head he’s sliding the glass door open, ready to talk to his brother and start the plan for your escape. hes ready to see you thrive again. he knows neither he, nor ethan will rest until you have shaken every form of contact with the spineless monster you’re controlled by daily. this plan will be his religion until it is completed. he turns his head to look at you, a smirk on his delicious soft lips, licking at them quickly.

“we will be changing that, make no mistake.”

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littlemusings2020 · 4 years ago

Text

12-06-2020

Marina,

your last post inspired me to write this and I want to thank you for it.

---

I grew up spending my summers in Morocco reading and reading and reading. In my grandparents house there was a hidden storage room near the ceiling of the central room and bathroom and I was small enough back then to climb on the sink and into it and there I found my grandfathers collection of books. He’s a huge fan of spy, detective and crime novels. I think my fascination with that genre comes from watching all the James Bond movies with him growing up and reading all of his James Hadley Chase novels (that I brought back here with me). Our relationship is also very special. He doesn’t like to talk, he’s a man who has lived more in half his life that most have at the end of theirs, a man filled with knowledge and mystery but who you can never seem to get anything out of--or rarely do--, making every interaction with him more precious than the previous one. He speaks French very well and my Darija--although a bit broken--is good enough for us to also converse in that language. But our best exchanges have always been through silence.

---

I’d ask him if he wants to go for a walk. He’d say yes. We’d get out of the building, cross the street, and sit down at the café just in front of us. We’d both order a nosnos. We’d stare at the people in the café together.

This man hold his cigarette the same way my father does.

The waiter is winking at me. I pretend I don’t see it and take a sip of my coffee.

“How are your studies going?”

“They’re good al-hamdullilah, I’m almost done.”

“Good. I’m not worried about you. You’re smart and strong like your mother.”

He takes a sip of his coffee. He leaves a bit of foam in his moustache.

It makes me smile.

He smiles back. Not knowing exactly why I am, but just to reciprocate the gesture.

---

Every time I leave bled I am overtaken by a heavy feeling of guilt and fear. Fear that it’s the last time I see my grandparents. Fear that I’ll never get the chance to know our family’s history because I don’t speak or read Arabic. Guilt of not knowing how to speak or read Arabic. Fear that the years of French and Spanish colonization and the Arabization have cut us access to our roots. Guilt of being upset that no one in my family speaks Tamazight or openly discusses about our Jewish ancestry because history has taught us to hate our indigenous-ness.

Fear that I might never know some things, that the more I cling to the past, the more I dig into history, the more I get lost in what-ifs/but what abouts/intersections of identity the more I lose sight of the present.

The more I lose sight of the foam in his moustache.

The way he sees his daughter in me.

The pride he feels.

The sweetness of my nosnos.

The smell of Marlboro red in the air.

The sight of small little sand tornados on the side of the road.

The sound of the first notes from وردة - بتونس بيك by Warda playing in the café.

The feeling of the AC hitting the sweat at the back of my neck.

The present is my past.

---

We leave the café. I grab his arm and we cross the street back to our building. I help him walk up the stairs.

He rarely says he loves me.

He looks at me, nods, and whispers “Allah ykhalik”.

And to myself, I whisper “Ana wyek”.

---

Soukayna

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royallyprincesslilly · 6 years ago

Text

Late (20.3)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Plot, Blood

Word Count: 3640K

Note: Wheeew, I know, I know, I know. This took FOREVER. I’m sorry, truly. I told you guys I wanted to make this perfect especially because we are at the end and I don’t want to put out half-assed work and I wanted to make the necessary connections. I hope you guys enjoy this. I also have been going through a writing drought and haven’t felt the want to write. I know my issues and not yours, I’m sorry. Without further a due, ta-da!

***Loosely edited/proofread

******Interactive Chapter(KINDA, PICTURES COUNT :) )***

Thank you guys for reading. I appreciate it. If you enjoyed this, please LIKE and REBLOG. ❤️ ❤️ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wakanda was abuzz with the latest gossip of Ma’Uchi, Nakia, Tandra and W’Kabi and the attempted coup. No one could believe the lengths Nakia went to and no one could believe the fate the group shared and how T’Challa had went from one side of the spectrum to dropping the full weight of Wakanda’s rule upon them.

Everyone was now wondering when the king would finally give into his love for Y/N. In truth Wakanda was ready for the dawn of the era the king had promised.

You sat in the garden watching the sun set behind the Jabari mountains and smiled. You now had more of a fondness for the Jabari and their leader Lord M’Baku and you were excited about the potential for not only Wakanda’s growth but also the Jabari. You’d decided to finally unite all the tribes for a stronger Wakanada, all that was left was to reason with the king and help him see the logic of your words. You didn’t think it would be a hard task especially after he knew of the details of today.

You took a deep breath in and slowly released it. As you did you felt the stress and anxiety from the last few months dissipating. As you took another deep inhale you felt a sort of freedom you hadn’t felt in months. You closed your eyes hoping to relish the feeling for as long as you could. You didn’t know how long you sat there but by the time you opened your eyes you saw the queen mother sitting next to you. You jumped in shock before she placed a soothing hand upon your knee.

“It is just me,” Ramonda calmly voiced.

You smiled and nodded, relaxing yourself. The sun had disappeared behind the mountains and the sky was filled with hundreds of stars. The same stars that always made you think of T’Challa. You smiled to yourself.

“By yourself?” Ramonda asked.

“Yes.”

“Hm, interesting. I did not expect you to be by yourself. In fact i expected you and my son to be deep in conversation at this time,” she continued.

“The king is a busy man. After the debacle of today i am sure he had a lot to see to,” you reasoned.

“I am sure he did, but I didn’t expect anything to be more important than you.”

You sighed and looked to Ramonda’s face. She had a sly smile on her lips as she stared up into the star speckled night sky. After a few moments she looked to you and smiled wider.

“Unless it is you who is hiding,” she finished.

She’d guessed it, hit the nail right on the head, stolen the cookie from the cookie jar, pieced it together. You doubted it was a hard puzzle to put together. You looked down to your hands and entangled your fingers together before untangling them only to do the action again and again.

“Why are you hiding?” Ramonda asked when minutes passed of silence and her careful observation of your face.

You didn’t know the right words to speak, you didn’t even know what to say.

“Y/N?” Ramonda urged.

“A lot has happened. The last forty-eight hours have sped by like a tornado and in it’s wake everything has changed but quite possibly nothing. All that is certain is there is so much uncertainty,” you rushed out in one breath.

“You are right, a lot has happened. A lot has changed because of what has happened, but the only way to shed light on the unknown is by addressing it,” Ramonda counseled.

You knew what she was saying was true, still when the chance came you ran away.

“Wakanda owes you a debt Y/N. I owe you a debt.”

“You owe me nothing. I did this for Wakanda, for you. You all deserved to know the truth, you deserved some form of peace. I only hope that by dredging up the painful past I have not disrupted T’Chaka in the ancestral plane and I have not broken your heart all over again,” you confessed.

Ramonda took your hands within hers and firmly squeezed them as she turned to face you.

“Y/N, T’Chaka blesses you. I have been consulting with the ancestors and they are forever indebted to you for your actions. For rooting out the evil within Wakanda. What you have done is no small feat, but it’s benefits will spread across the land. As for my pain, it will never go away, never but you have lessened it by shining light on the truth. A grave injustice was done to our family, an injustice that broke us down, but you are the piece that will mend us and build us up, starting with the king,” Ramonda spoke.

You allowed her words to seep into your brain.

“How can I mend anything. I am not Wakandan.”

“Like hell you are not. Do you think you are Wakandan just by being born here, by being born with the blood in your veins? If that were the case all of the world is greatly mistaken of their heritage. You are not merely Wakandan because of blood, or birth but because of your heart, your soul. You were Wakandan when you put the happiness and prosperity if its people before your own happiness and prosperity. You are Wakandan when you embody the ways of our practices and teachings, you are Wakandan being true not only to the spirit of Bast herself but by being true to the land. All of which you have done since the day you got here and every day you continue to do so. You are Wakandan because even when your heart broke you chose the ways and people over your own wants, your own love. My child you are Wakanda,” Ramonda finished.

You smiled to yourself and looked up to the sky.

“But, you must stop running. You must forge ahead.”

You nodded and sighed again.

“You’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” Ramonda teased. You snorted and let out a laugh. A laugh you didn’t recognize. It had been so long since you last laughed—too long.

“Now, I am going to tell my son to stop pacing a hole in the floor of his office and to follow his heart and senses to you and you are going to sit here looking as beautiful as ever and forge ahead,” she ordered. You smiled and nervously nodded.

Ramonda stood and gently touched your forehead before she walked away back inside the palace leaving you alone again in the garden. You took another deep breath realizing your heart was not pounding at a maddening pace.

“Relax Y/N, relax,” you calmly recited.

You sat there running through the endless possibilities in your head at break neck speed. You went through tens of scenarios all ending differently, but all evoked the same feelings in you. You felt as if you were going to pass out from the anticipation and the unknown. You wondered if he still felt the same way, wondered if any part of him still wanted you. You wondered if everything had changed for him. You worried about so many of his feelings or lack there of that after ten minutes you began pacing the stone walkway in the garden obsessing over it all.

“Y/N.”

You quickly spun around with a distressed look on your face to see Okoye standing there.

“Okoye.”

“Was I interrupting?”

“No, no. Well yes but I'm grateful. I was going down an endless rabbit hole of what ifs and it had to stop, so thank you,” you said as she approached you.

“Are you all right?” You nodded only lying partially.

“Okoye, i wanted to thank you for today, thank you for all you have done in this crazy scheme of mine,” you began.

Okoye smiled a rare smile that paused you.

“I was happy to help Y/N. I should be thanking you for saving me from a fate worse than death if I had married W’Kabi,” she said with a look of disgust on her face.

“I still can’t believe his part in all this,” you added.

“Neither can I, I never suspected and I feel like such a fool,” she continued. You took her hand gently.

“Okoye, you are not a fool. He was simply good at covering his tracks, they all were. So if you are a fool so is the rest of Wakanda, the king included,” you teased.

Okoye smiled again.

“Well I have always been convinced the king was a fool, and was further proved right watching him these last years,” Okoye laughed, a laugh you joined in on.

“Speaking of the king, I have something for you,” she said holding out an envelope with the Wakandan king’s seal.

You took the envelope and stared at it.

“The staff have prepared your old bedroom for you,” Okoye informed. You nodded and watched her turn and begin to walk back inside the palace. Before she walked inside she stooped and looked back to you.

“Y/N,” Okoye began. You looked to her.

“He is lucky to have you.” Okoye said then the corner inside the palace.

You stood there for a few more minutes before you decided against opening it. Instead you walked back inside the palace toward your bedroom contemplating what he’d written in the envelope.

Once you were safely behind your familiar doors you looked around and took in your surroundings. Everything looked the same as if nothing had been touched. The walls were still the way you’d requested, as was the decor. You leaned your back against the door and pressed the envelope to your chest willing your heart to slow.

After a few moments, you walked further into the room toward the window at the moon shining in. You stood there and unsealed the envelope to open the king’s stationary.

“Wakanda owes you a debt.”

Short and simple, short and mysterious in meaning. You looked at the back of the card bu there was nothing else written. Confusion began to rise as you realized he was most likely not going to meet you tonight.

You put the card down on your desk and looked around the room again. You walked to your bed and softly traced your hand along the patterned duvet to one of the posts. You walked around the room taking in everything. You didn’t know how much you missed this until just now. You’d missed it greatly. you walked into the bathroom and began filling the copper claw-foot tub. You’d missed this tub. While it was old fashioned it was decked out with modern luxuries. At the touch of a button it could be transformed into a luxurious whirlpool, jetted spa escape filled with over fifteen massage patterns. This bad boy was the reason you’d been changed to a bath lover again after nearly a lifetime of preferring showers. Now you spent hours upon hours sitting in this tub.

You began undressing out of the Dora uniform and filled the tub with the luxuries you loved, essential oils, flower petals, bath salts, a special blended soap that produced the most exhilarating bubbles that some how worked to easily melt away any stress leaving you and your body in the most amazing state of relaxation. You couldn’t wait.

As you walked around the bathroom preparing things for your bath you did your best to not think about anything or anyone. If you thought anymore your head would burst. Once you’d freed yourself and only had your bra and underwear on you swirled your hand in the water to test the temperature was right. Smiling you began to rise but was struck back down by a kick to the back of your calf. You dropped back to the hard floor. Before you could turn to see who or what it was the mystery intruder grabbed your head and pushed it into the tub submerging your head under the water. You screamed in the water which produced no sound. It only brought water into your nose and lungs. You flailed your arms around behind you trying to grab the person. Every time your hand made connection to a garment of clothes they pulled away and sunk your head even further under the water.

After a minute of struggle your actions slowed, your head became heavy, your vision became speckled with bright lights. Your logic told you that you were running out of time. You tried your best to think about your immediate surroundings. You stopped trying to grab the intruder and began to reach for the retractable shower head that was attached to the tub your plan clear in your head. It was difficult to maneuver as your actions slowed more and you felt yourself begin to involuntarily convulse. In the recesses of your mind you knew you only had seconds. Your hands grasped the shower head but it was stuck. You yanked as hard as you could freeing the retractable cord. Gripping it you swung it back behind you and heard an enraged grunt. The action gave you a few seconds of reprieve. You pulled your head out the water and gasped for the precious commodity you desperately needed.

Again you felt the intruder trying to overtake you. You swung your head back connecting with their head. In an instant you felt dizziness ring through your head. Now you were righting two battles, lack of oxygen and dizziness, the odds were definitely stacked against you. You tried to get up but slipped on the flooded floor and dropped back down. You slid and spun around seeing Nakia standing there.

“Nakia?” you spoke in complete shock and confusion.

She dove to you but you ducked instead grabbing her calves and hoisted her up and over your head. You heard a loud crash and a scream. You spun around and saw Nakia splayed on the floor atop the broken the shards of the glass shower door. She groaned as she slowly rose to her hands and knees. She looked to you, blood dripping from several cuts on her face. She looked like pure rage.

“How did you get free?”

“I’ve lived in this place longer than you. I know every hidden tunnel and path. I’ve always known how to get in here. I could have killed you any time I wanted but a Queen doesn’t dirty her hands. She watches as other do her bidding, but now you have pissed me off and if you want something done right you have to do it yourself,” Nakia spat before she dove for you. She landed on top of you tackling you to the wet floor. She drew back her hand and landed a blow to your face. You struggled with her trying to overpower her. You rolled on top of her and punched her three times before she rolled to reclaim the upper hand. She managed to get her hands around you neck and began to squeeze.

“You thought I would just let you win? Did you really think I would just give up and go to the island? You are even dumber than I thought. You will never have him, you will never have Wakanda.”

You gagged and pushed your hands between hers and pushed them apart forcing her to release your neck. A move T’Challa showed you in one of your many sparring matches. You wasted no time grabbing her wrists and twisting them. She screamed loudly and you kicked her off of you over your head into the wooden panel along the wall. You rolled to your knees quickly watching her every move. It was past reasoning with her. There was no reasoning with her. No granting her mercy, nothing would work. Nakia stood up wiping the blood from her mouth. You stood and stared at her, expecting the worst, preparing for it.

Nakia took up a crystal candle holder and charged to you attempting to strike you. You evaded every attempt recognizing she was no longer strategizing, she was attacking on pure rage. She was at her weakest. You took the opportunity to punch her, but she pushed you on the wall and returned the hit. You sunk down and slid through her opened legs. You turned in time to see her coming for you, you kicked out the vanity stool to her forcing her to trip over it. You hurried to the door but saw it was locked from the outside. Nakia wrapped her arm around your neck placing you in a choke-hold.

“No escape, only through death.”

You elbowed her feeling your anger rise to the dangerous level. You turned and kicked her in her gut. She staggered backwards and tried to unsuccessfully evade your onslaught of hits. Each of your hits landed with precision. You felt stronger than you had in a long time. You took a deep breath in and charged Nakia. She landed on the hard floor with a loud thud. You wrapped your hands around her neck and squeezed with all your strength. She gagged and tried to pry your hands free. The fear in her eyes rose and it filled you with even more strength, it was intoxicating. You heard your Kimoyo beads ring from across the room. In the commotion they must have fallen off. In your distracted stare Nakia managed to grab a sliver of the broken glass and slash your collar. You drew back from the pain, she took the opportunity to roll on top of you and inch the glass closer to your jugular.

Every second she inched closer and closer, you struggled back and forth with her strength. When she gained an inch you pushed her back an inch only for the cycle to continue back and forth. You groaned as you saw the glass mere centimeters from your skin. Nakia smiled sinisterly as she kept her eye on the prize, your neck. You felt the sharp edge of the glass puncture your neck, pain rang through you and alarm filled you. You fought against the urge to panic, instead you released one hand to reach for the large shard you saw to the side. The action gave Nakia more leeway to sink her shard further into your neck. You gagged tasting your blood in your throat. You quickly lunged to the shard allowing the glass to sink a few more centimeters into your skin. It was the only way. You grabbed the shard and quickly slammed Nakia to her back and rammed the glass into her chest. Nakia gasped out in shock, but her actions into stop. She reached for a smaller piece of the glass and stabbed it into your abdomen. You gasped and convulsed taking in the impact and the pain of the object.

“You—will not—have—him,” Nakia stuttered out.

You raised your mouth into a vindictive snarl.

“Neither will you!” You shouted and pulled the glass from her chest to ram it into her chest again. You repeated the action two more times, on the final stab you sunk it into her heart. Nakia gurgled her blood oozing from her mouth as she stared at you, all her actions seized. You heard her cough and release her last terrorizing breath.

You sat atop her waiting for her to spring back up like the horror show she was, but after almost thirty seconds of no movement you let go of the shard of glass still sticking from her chest. Your bloodied hands violently shook and weakness overtook you. You toppled of her to the blood covered floor and began gasping for air. You reached your hand to your neck and felt the glass still protruding from your throat. You heard pounding at the door but it was too far for you to make it there. You’d never make it. Your hand slowly traveled to the second piece of glass sticking out from your abdomen and felt tears sting your eyes as reality crept in. Reality was you were dying, reality was Nakia had finally gotten what she wanted, reality was you’d now killed two people. Reality was that these were your last moments. You stared into the ceiling at a replica of the Wakandan night sky and saw a bright light creep in from the corners of your eyes. You heard a loud snap and shrieks of horror before scuffling footsteps. You heard your name as if it was someone far away and it was then T’Challa dropped to your side with a haunted look on his face.

Everything moved in slow motion and you heard nothing but muffled voices. T’Challa hesitated touching you as he examined your body. When his eyes landed on the glass protruding from your neck the look on his face spoke of fear. Your reality had finally registered with him. T’Challa looked away from you and shouted. You felt the trickles of his tears drip on your cheek and a deep sorrow filled you. You slowly lifted your hand to his face. You traced your bleeding hand along his cheek, down to his jaw. There was so much to say but no time, you opened your mouth to speak but no sound came out.

Fresh tears streamed down your face as you realized this was your last moment with him. T’Challa clasped his hand over yours and nuzzled his face into your palm, but you didn’t feel it. You’d read somewhere that when you were dying your senses would slowly fade. You could not smell him, you could not hear him, nor could you taste the blood you knew filled your throat and mouth. You saw his lips move but the light that was at the corners of your eyes now took over and with that, your sight went.

To Be Continued...

Tag List:

@kumkaniudaku @brianabreeze @sarahboseman @texasbama @heyauntieeee @airis-paris14 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @theunsweetenedtruth @ashanti-notthesinger @reignsxjackson @halfrican-heat @ambthegamer @simplyyamberr @dramaqueenamby @muse-of-mbaku @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @stressedgyal @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @blowmymbackout @purplehairgawdess @thehuntoyobun @wakandamama @wakandawinning @profilia @zxddy-panther @h-challa @babygirlofwakanda @misswakanda2018 @challaxkillmonger @ororowrites @hutchj @myfavemarvelfanfics @lavitabella87 @afraiddreamingandloving @autumn242 @purple-apricots @skysynclair19 @hersheyskissesss-blog @blue-ishx @blublubleu @90sinspiredgirl @tchallaswife @tchallamakesmeh0lla @turn-thy-paige @blackchickfics @blackpantherismyish @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @naturally-bri @flawlesslybeautiful14 @qweentbh @lunaerly @theoutereffect @twilight-sapphire-lover @pupyluv247 @stark-red19 @cockyboysandsugarism @maverickabull @madbadsiren @aykanna @myaw731 @ruruly20 @mixedmelanin @brittyevans @bezzywazhere @laketaj24 @taint3dvirgin @soulsparker @theresnomoregoodones @syreanne @loveandcigarillos @heybriheyyy @wakanda-bcth @uhlxis @yaachtynoboat711 @geeksareunique @bultalongthewayside @ajspencer1892 @captiansaveasmut @imaginewhoever @terrablaze514 @starsshines-blog @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @darkandlovely94 @sithlordslut @wavyyc @naturalistamisslyn @nigarachi15 @madamslayyy @blackandfair @kreolemami @mylastnameisthe-fish @kaykay0829 @chaneajoyyy @tequilajay27 @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @slimmiyagi @im5ftbutmythroat66 @jaeee-http @madhatterhelsing @sunflowerpsalms @wakanda-shit-is-that @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @jecourt @vebner37 @disneysdarlingdiva @melaninmarvel @alanastormborn @dolphinpink310 @wonderbell @ohleucothea @queentearra @bitchbetterhavemydinner @fentybabyy @kaykay4454fan @priya212 @kitkit1690 @chrismarcs @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @blackpantherimagines @ovohanna24 @sweetpeachjones @kslo000 @nubian-queen18 @omgsuperstarg @prettyprincessushio @treeondrea @ursapharoh05 @blackpinup22 @kaytauru @big3gocandykahn @kissingpineapples @ilcb7 @wildaboutchrisevans @fitfineandstayingalive @misspooh @michele-onel @gorjiss @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @muva-milaje @limbo-limbo-limbo @awkwardlyabstract @blxck-brxndie @meeky-imagines @inlovewith3 @metalarmlover @mellowjellow6 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @sweettea-and-honeybutter @thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @marvelheaux @romanceoftheeveryday-blog @mufasathatniggatho @cltex84 @sweetbearcolorgarden @msincognito67 @blackpantherimagines @mosagram @mar-ta-3 @ljstraightnochaser @lewatigress @akimi-youngblood @bekahdean87 @teechallas-blog @jasmindaughteroftheworld @cocooned-butterfly @emoniclark22 @chereedrop619 @theblulife @niggarachi15 @msincognito67 @missdeerstalker15 @wakandamama @great-neckpectations @avenger-marvel-fan @arieljamiyla @avenger-marvel-fan @vibranium-soul @apileofmiscsomethings @niecey4cocaine @missumuch1918 @chillavesss @madamslayyy @heynessss @shamelessqueenobservation @cetouna @cosmicmelaninflower @tntnv @dopegalkk @babyblowomg @somansystars-and-westillstarve

Author’s AFTER-NOTE: Are y'all OK?

#late fic #king t'challa #t'challa x reader #t'challa x you #the black panther #black panther fanfiction #slow burn #angst fic #Wakanda forever #t'challa fic #t'challa smut

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serpentupemotions-blog · 6 years ago

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Then Just Leave - Sweet Pea x Reader

Summary: You finally realize your toxic relationship with Sweet Pea might simply be too toxic (that’s a shitty description, I know, and I’m sorry).

Song Inspiration: Perfectly Wrong - Shawn Mendes

Warnings: volatile relationship, swearing

Words: 1,996

A/N: I don’t know why I wrote this. It’s just sad. Though there isn’t a lot of character/relationship development so I think that makes it way less sad (or I’m just becoming bitter and cold, who knows).

Your bed had never felt larger or colder than it did tonight. The yellow glow of the streetlights stream into your bedroom through the cracks between your curtains, lighting up the room and exposing its emptiness. The silence seemed to taunt you. There was no quiet snoring from the spot beside you on your bed, instead there was untouched blankets. You hadn’t moved them when you slipped under the covers, you didn’t want to touch his side of the bed. That’s what it had become over the past year, his side. For months your mom tried to stop him from sleeping over, grounding you countless times before realizing it was a futile fight. You were too stubborn, if you wanted him with you in bed at night you would find a way to sneak him in.

Perhaps that’s why the bed beside you sits empty now. You’re too stubborn. That and a million other reasons that made the relationship doomed from the start. The two of you fought like the world would end if you agreed to disagree over things so minuscule neither of you could even justify why you were fighting about it. You were arguing simply for arguments sake. It wasn’t right, you knew that. You would bring up the smallest things with the intentions of things blowing up much bigger than they needed to. But then all that anger would spill over into the bedroom, or the backseat of your car, or anywhere you two could get some time alone and you would forget all about what you were fighting about, because it never even really mattered in the first place. But you needed to fight, because you needed that high, of emotions so out of control your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest, skin burning in anger, veins feeling like they might explode with frustration. It was your fault, you were always the catalyst. But Sweet Pea was hot-headed, he wasn’t good at letting things go. So, when you wanted to argue, he was right there, just as ready for it.

Whatever this last one was about, you couldn’t remember. The starting point was a mystery, but it didn’t matter, the beginning never mattered. What mattered this time was that it didn’t end with you wrapped in Sweet Pea’s arms, sweaty bodies pressed together whispering quiet ‘I love you’s to each other. This time it ended with you standing alone, back pressed against your closed front door in a silent house with tears blurring your vision. You were the one who said it and how badly you wished you hadn’t now.

“God, I hate you.”

“Why am I even here? This is so fucking stupid.”

“Then just leave.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Good. But you’re not coming back. Because we’re done, this is over.”

You had said it so coldly, not an ounce of emotion in your voice. You knew there was no going back. Once you threatened that, the end, you could never take that back. There were a lot of words that could be taken back, but the acknowledgment that you had thought, even for a split second, about the possibility of your life being better without the other. You couldn’t take that back.

Rolling onto your side you pick up your phone from where it was sitting on your bedside table, opening your contacts and scrolling through it, till you find his contact. Sweet Pea. You click on it, his information filling your screen, the picture you had set for his contact when the two of you first started dating sitting prominently at the top of the screen. The two hearts beside his name made your own heart shatter just a little bit more. Laying there you stare at that information until your eyelids are so heavy you can’t keep them open any longer. The phone slips out of your hand, landing beside you on your bed where it eventually auto locks long after you’ve fallen asleep. You’re fast asleep the next time your screen lights up with a notification.

‘I’m sure you’re asleep but please call me when you wake up’

‘I want to talk about what happened’

‘I love you’

The light flooding into your room from the streetlights eventually fades to streams of sunlight pouring into your room, waking you from your sleep. Upon waking you immediately roll over, arm searching the empty side of the bed for the body you were so used to being there. It hits you like a train, pain and sadness leaving you feeling unable to move. You wanted to go back to sleep, to wake up and try again, maybe this was a nightmare and when you woke up again he would be there. Eventually you force yourself to sit up, noticing your phone sitting on the edge of your bed, not on the table where it usually was.

The text messages send off a tornado in your body. Seeing that ‘I love you’, it gave you some sort of hope that maybe this wasn’t it, this wasn’t the end. But you could never take back what you had said to him, that it was over. You could try, but those words would always be there.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to try. Unlocking your phone, you open the messages, clicking Sweet Pea’s contact and pressing the phone button. You had done it countless times before, but it had never carried the same weight in your chest that it was carrying this time.

“Hey,” his voice is hoarse when he answers the phone. You hadn’t even looked at the time before you called, you hadn’t looked at the time the text messages had come to you last night. You had woken him up, possibly after not being asleep for very long, and you’re immediately filled with regret about it. “Hey, Y/N, are you there?”

You weren’t sure of the last time he called you your name, it was always babe, baby, sweetie, princess, darling, beautiful, anything but your name. It felt too formal, it felt like someone had turned the vice a little tighter on your heart. “Yes,” you choke out, not having noticed the tears in your eyes till they’re streaming down your cheeks, “I’m here.”

“Can we please talk? In person, not over the phone. I need to see you, princess. Fuck, is this really it? Are we really done?”

You try to keep your sniffles quiet, so he wouldn’t know you were crying. If he knew you were crying, he would know that the answer was no, that you didn’t want this to be over. “Come over whenever.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

You hang up the phone and pull yourself out of your bed, your torso was wrapped in one of Sweet Pea’s t-shirts, having pulled it on last night in an effort to have something of his in bed with you. If you couldn’t have him, you wanted something of his. Pulling on a pair of pajama shorts you make your way across the hallway to use the bathroom and brush your teeth, avoiding looking in the mirror for more than a split-second. Your eyes were puffy, swollen from crying, dark circles under your eyes, and you didn’t want to look at how wrecked you were over this for longer than necessary.

A knocking on the door draws your attention from the book you were trying to lose yourself in to not have to think about reality. He hadn’t been lying when he told you he would be there soon. You hadn’t changed from his shirt and your pajamas, had barely brushed your hair. Now that he was here you were regretting that decision. He was going to know how much you were hurting, he wouldn’t argue with you if he knew you were this upset about everything. But fighting was so much easier than being honest about your emotions, and you wished you had taken the time to put up a better front.

“Hi,” you tell him upon pulling open the door, trying your best to keep emotion from creeping into your voice. “Come in.”

Sweet Pea steps into your house, not saying anything, while also not hiding the fact that he was taking in your appearance. “Baby,” he whispers, reaching for your hand which you pull away before he has the chance to grasp it. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” you say quickly, crossing your arms to strengthen your defensive front, “don’t say that, you don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“I’m sorry I left yesterday, I shouldn’t have left.”

“I made it pretty clear that I wanted you gone,” you tell him, your voice squeaking halfway through as you fight back tears.

Sweet Pea nods slowly, looking away from you when his eyes fill with tears. That was one thing that rarely happened with you two. You had only cried in front of him a handful of times and he had never cried in front of you.

“Please don’t cry,” you croak, coughing to clear your throat. You didn’t think you would be able to keep your distance if he cried in front of you.

“I’m not,” he replies, head still turned away from you. Surprisingly that seems to break your heart even more than him crying would have, knowing that he was fighting it so hard. You were both standing there on the verge of crumbling, pretending you weren’t.

Before you even have the chance to talk yourself out of it your arms are wrapped around his torso, head on his chest as tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, Pea. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to take back what I said.”

His arms wrap protectively around your body, chin resting on the top of your head and you hear him sniffle quietly. “I don’t know what to do either, darling. I love you so much, but you meant what you said yesterday, I could tell.”

“I’m so sorry,” you cry into his chest, your body shaking with sobs. His hand runs over your back a couple times before he pulls away.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he tells you and you reach up, wiping your face with your hands to get rid of some of the moisture left on your cheeks.

You nod, knowing he was right. You couldn’t keep doing this, you couldn’t keep putting him through this every time you wanted to pick a fight about the tiniest things. It wasn’t fair to him, to drag him into arguments so often knowing he didn’t actually do anything worthy of arguing over. “I know,” you croak.

Sweet Pea leans down, hesitating a moment before kissing you gently, your lips slightly moist with tears. His hand rests on the side of your face, gently, delicately. You hadn’t kissed like this, ever. It had always been passionate, eager. One of your hands grasps at his jacket, using it as leverage to pull your bodies closer to each other. “I love you,” Sweet Pea whispers against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes still shut.

“I love you too.”

You wished you had waited to say it, just a couple minutes longer. Because the second the words leave your mouth his body leaves yours, stepping towards your front door and leaving after one final glance.

How something can be for the best but hurt so much you would never know. How someone can leave you so broken and leaving still be the right decision would never make sense.

But you had to let him leave, you couldn’t call him back because you knew he wouldn’t be able to leave again, you knew that he would stay if you asked him to. But you two were perfectly wrong for each other, everyone knew that, you knew that, and you loved him enough to only want what’s best for him.

Thank-you for reading! I hope you liked it (I mean, as much as you can like something written entirely about a breakup in which you have to put yourself into the story (sorry about that, by the way. I’m just so used to this style I didn’t even think about that adding to the sad factor)). I’ll try and resume writing things less sad, or at least with a happy ending now!

Taglist: @gruffle1 @sweetpeasbabydoll

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butterflyinthewell · 7 years ago

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#AutismIs

Just need to remind some people who shall remain nameless that I don’t glorify autistic!Groot’s autism in my autistic headcanon of him. I show the ugly stuff and it’s part of the picture of his version of normal.

Groot is exactly the kind of autistic person autism moms rant about when they say autism is nothing good and all kinds of ugly.

[Groot says “I am Groot.”]

[Groot says “We are Groot.”]

Groot is nonverbal by alien standards. His speech is five words total and isn’t understandable unless you know him really, really, really well. A trained ear can learn to understand that his speech actually is language and means something. I have him type on an AAC device in my fanfics to help this process.

But Groot makes weird noises. He’ll pace around in circles and groan. He stims. Sometimes he smears poop if he gets his hands on some. If he wore clothes, he would need to be dressed and undressed by somebody else because there’s a high chance he’ll walk out with everything on backwards or inside out.

He can’t follow instructions well if they’re thrown rapid fire at him, but he’ll do better if somebody takes an extra second to make sure he’s paying attention and tells him exactly what they need him to do. He understands words, but he pays more attention to voice tones and actions than he does the words being said. He gets lost doing “simple” tasks sometimes.

He’s aware that there are social rules, but can’t really follow them even when he tries. The best he can do is it still like a statue and not move or make a sound and hope he blends into his surroundings. If a sensory need comes up, such as hunger or thirst, he’ll usually attend to it regardless of what’s going on around him.

[Groot eats a leaf off his shoulder.]

[Groot drinks water out of a public fountain.]

He loses all control of his body when he has meltdowns. He’s the person who will chew his wrists all the way through (they heal fast), beat himself until he ruptures his eyeballs (they grow back :P), bangs his head until he either cracks it open (heals fast) or gives himself a concussion (takes time to recover from), and that’s not mentioning the screaming and flailing he does in between.

His meltdowns are brutal if he’s sick, triggered, in pain or overstimulated. Overstimulated meltdowns burn off in a few minutes. The other kinds can last until the problem is solved. His ability to communicate understandably goes away when he’s in distress, so his friends have to take note of his behavior to find out what’s wrong. Sometimes he gets violent when he has meltdowns...

[Groot thrashes a bunch of bad guys around a hallway.]

[Groot lets out a roar!]

His senses are in chaos a lot of the time. It’s hard work for him to make sense of the world around him, but he knows how his own brain works and he works with it instead of fighting against it.

Groot’s every waking moment is not meltdowns and misery because his friends know how to take care of him and support him. He’s treated like a person and not a problem to shuffle around or solve.

When he flips his shit, his friends immediately go into “what happened to you?” mode rather than “make him stop that!”

Yes, an element of their action is to help Groot control his body and soothe him so he doesn��t seriously injure himself, but afterward they immediately go into “find out what’s wrong” mode because calming him down when something is wrong is only a temporary fix. They solve the problem behind the behavior instead of stopping the behavior and leaving it to repeat and repeat and repeat and...yeah.

Does my description above make you see Groot as anything other than a disaster?

Try this: Groot is a competent, sweet, selfless, giving person who aims to please and tries to love everybody unless they give him a reason not to. He is intelligent, but can’t show it very well because it’s not intelligence as most people think of it.

He doesn’t think in words at all unless it’s remembering something said to him or remembering text; everything else is sensory, images and concepts. It’s a lot of work to turn all that into mere words. People talk about making things cognitively accessible-- Groot typing is him making his thoughts cognitively accessible to neurotypicals. Imagine taking all the information from every book ever written and having to summarize all of that in a single color or sound, and you’ll have an idea of what Groot has to do mentally with every word he types.

His ‘native’ language is emotions. People smiling at him and him smiling back is a conversation in his mind because feelings were exchanged. He learns peoples’ behavior patterns and maps out what their actions mean in the context of the situation. People whose actions and body language don’t match their words frustrate him because it feels like they’re lying to him. He gets an urge to shake somebody and ask them what they actually feel when what they say and what they do aren’t lining up.

Groot is the most at home in nature. I mean, he is a walking plant, so it makes sense that he’s wise in the ways of nature. This is where his intelligence shows up, but he rarely gets to display it when he’s out in space.

He can figure out what season it is on a planet by observing the temperature, general weather and where shadows fall. He memorizes the wind patterns of planets he visits and notices how they change throughout the days and seasons. In a building, he memorizes all the airflow patterns and notices when it changes. Yes, that means he’ll feel you breathing in a room that’s normally very still. His “airflow maps” can be great in a spaceship if there’s an air leak, because he’ll notice the change in how air flows and look for why.

He can use his taproots to taste plants and see if they’re poisonous to somebody else or not. He can do a ten finger countdown when rain is about to arrive and it’ll come down when he hits zero. He’ll map out where and when the sun(s) / moon(s) will rise and set. He’s pretty good at guessing if it will be hot or cold out that day. He can hear the rumble of hail and warn people before it arrives. (Or he’ll try.) And if he tells you there is going to be a tornado in two minutes, GTFO because there is going to be a tornado in two minutes, and he will stand within ten feet of where it will touch down.

Groot loves finding fractals in nature. The spirals of ferns, the repeating patterns of leaves and the centers of flowers bring him total delight. He loves watching sunsets change colors and feeling rain bead on his bark. Seeing the world reflected in miniature in a dewdrop can hold his attention for ages. He likes dancing to the wind as much as he likes dancing to music. The sun is his friend and the stars are distant companions.

He thinks neurotypicals hurry against the flow too much. He would describe them as people wondering why they got hurt while trying to make a tornado stop spinning when they could’ve saved themselves the trouble by taking shelter and waiting for the tornado to pass.

[Groot holds out a flower to someone out of frame.]

There, I just gave two detailed images of the same person.

Now please consider how you talk about the autistic person in your life and realize you might be painting a totally hideous image of them that doesn’t represent who they are at all.

Autistic people are more than behaviors and struggle.

#actuallyautistic #autism #autistic headcanon #Groot #Guardians of the Galaxy #long post #gifs #flashing #seizure warning #tw eye scream #tw unsanitary #tw feces #tw tornadoes #infodump

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the-elemental-sides · 7 years ago

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Urban fantasy AU: The Sides are four spirits trapped in an amulet. When Thomas finds it and puts it on, he gains the powers of the four elements…or that’s what should have happened, but mistakes were made. Now the Sides have to coach him in their respective elements while Thomas deals with both his new powers and his ability to see into the magical realm. Not only is magic real, but there’s some pretty intimidating stuff out there, and only Thomas and the Sides have the power to stop it.

A/N: That took a little while, but the next chapter is here! It’s the longest one, too, so I hope you enjoy the following shenanigans.

Taglist: @shinylyni, @hissesssss, @vexation-virgil, @madd-catter, @rptheturk, @ed-tries-to-be-cool, @nienna14, @ryuity, @asofterfan, @robanilla, @k9cat, @ab-artist, @absoluteamethyst, @a-box-o-jills, @captain-loki-xavier, @lynisnotamused

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***

Of all the spirits, Thomas knew Virgil the least.

While Roman spent most of his time bickering with Virgil and Logan, Virgil was rarely fussed enough to argue back. He seemed intent on blending in with the shadows on the floor, and when he did speak up, he seemed cynical and almost mean compared to the others. Patton was the only one to sing his praises.

So trying to figure out a way to approach the lesson made him pretty nervous. Thomas sat on his couch, alone; he’d chased all the others out to give them space. He hesitated, then took a breath. “Vir—“

“Don’t bother, I’m out.”

“Ah!” Thomas jumped when he saw Virgil standing over him like a gloomy Grim Reaper. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly not.”

“Okay. Well, it’s good to see you, Virgil. I sure am ready to learn these water powers.”

“All right, all right.” Virgil sat on his coffee table without looking inclined to move.

“You’ve used your powers before, right?”

“I mean, yeah, I had them for like eight months. Sometimes I boiled water for coffee and stuff.”

“Um, okay.” Putting on his best ‘Picani’ voice: “How did using your powers make you feel?”

“Anxious.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Let me just get this straight: I hate working hard,” said Virgil. “So hey, if you really want me to supervise, I’ll supervise. But I think you can do it on your own.”

“Fine,” said Thomas, relenting.

Thomas filled a pot with water and sat, staring at it. He wiggled his fingers over the surface like a witch casting an enchantment.

“Are you trying to boil it?” asked Virgil.

“Yeah.”

“No, don’t do that just because I mentioned it,” he scoffed. “Find something easier to start out with.”

“You’re not making this easy, Verge,” Thomas said, laying down his hands.

“Sorry I’m not as a good a teacher as Roman.”

“None of you guys have been super clear about this, actually...no, you know what? Let’s chill. Let’s regroup. We have time to figure this out.”

Thomas took a deep breath, adjusted his position, and focused on the water again, trying to fill his head with water-y vocab words. Bubbles. Spring. Droplets. Steam. Was that condensation forming on his fingers…? He might be onto something. A drop plunked off his finger. There!

“Impressive,” Virgil said, scrutinizing him. “You totally failed to move the water in the pot, but you made some out of thin air.”

“Oh.”

The morning continued like this, with Thomas practicing water magic while Virgil occasionally took off his headphones to make snarky comments. Privately, Thomas wondered why he was still hanging around, but he thought it was because the other spirits weren’t out and about. Virgil seemed kind of glad for the peace and quiet.

“All right, watch this,” Thomas said at last. “Water!”

Sploosh! The water in the pot jumped up briefly to touch Thomas’ fingers.

“Earth!” He made a fist and then rolled a newly-formed pebble into the water. “Fire! Foosh!” He lit his other hand on fire and flicked some flames off to the side. “Air!” With the same hand, he stirred up a little tornado that whirred a few feet away before dissolving.

“Yep, those are the elements.”

“Wait, I’m not done. Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony, but everything changed when the Fire Nation atta-“

“I get it,” Virgil said. “Congratulations.”

“Is that it?” Thomas asked. “Did I do it?”

“No, actually. Not if that’s all you can do. Can you control anything more than that?”

Thomas stared down into his pot of water. “I think that’s all I’ve got.”

“Well, hey, keep practicing. I’m out.”

“Hold up,” Thomas said, and Virgil paused, giving him a wary look. “I need to know something else. I think the others are hiding something from me.”

“Of course they are,” Virgil said with a half-shrug. “You didn’t think four spirits would come free of baggage, did you?”

“Was that rhetorical, or….?”

“Forget it. Hey, they might not have trusted me, but I was pretty good at reading their emotions. Patton felt guilty because he felt like he could have prevented this whole mess. Logan was way too stressed because the whole procedure was resting on him. And Roman sort of resented us because all his life’s plans were tossed away to get in on this.”

“And what about you…?”

Virgil just kept looking at him. Finally, he said, “Table that question. But if you want some answers, you’re ready for the next step in your training.”

“Sounds ominous,” Thomas said, a little nervously. “Does that mean we’re done here?”

“I should go talk this over with the others.”

“Okay. Hey, before you go. I thought of something cool.”

“Yeah?”

“I keep thinking of you guys as ‘the spirits,’ or sometimes just ‘those guys,’ but I think I’ve thought of a better name,” said Thomas. “You’re the ‘sides!’ Because you all make up a side of my new powers.”

“....I don’t know why, but that’s really appropriate,” Virgil said after a pause.

“I know, right? I’m glad I came up with it.”

“Huh.”

***

The next morning, Thomas went grocery shopping. According to Logan, this was necessary. It also happened to be necessary because Thomas was a pizza fiend who did not have enough healthy things in his fridge.

Thomas pretended to lock his car while the spirits (sides) briefed him.

“This quest will open your eyes to a whole new side of the universe, Thomas,” Roman said. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m hyped,” Thomas told his keys. “What’s the game plan?”

“Well, you have to be in spirit mode for it to work.”

“Spirit mode.” Thomas frowned. “Don’t three of you have to be in regular human mode for that to work?”

“Yup!”

“But—everybody else will see you that way! I can’t have three Thomases running around.”

“Never fear, Thomas, we’ve prepared for this,” Logan said. “As you might recall, we’re only borrowing your form. We have the capability to look however we wish.”

“And I choose to look—“ and Roman turned around, and suddenly he resembled someone else entirely—“like this!”

“Joan?!”

“Yes!”

“I was going to be Joan,” Logan muttered.

“That’s incredible,” Thomas said. “You’ve got their voice and everything.”

“Indeed!”

“Is this fitting?” Patton asked, popping into Thomas’ face.

“Woah! Terrence. Yup, that’ll do.” Thomas’ hand suddenly fell through his car door, but he was too excited to care. “Okay, we need one more.”

Virgil started to speak up, but Logan interrupted. “Me, of course. I will be your friend Talyn. I believe their short and nonthreatening stature will prevent unwanted confrontation.”

Thomas raised his arms to see that he had become translucent. “It worked. Nobody can see me now, so it’s up to you guys. Let’s go shopping!”

***

Thomas walked side-by-side with Virgil, the only one still stuck in spirit mode. The other spirits bounded ahead. Well, Logan was serious as ever. But even he had more of a spring in his step.

Or, ‘their’ step? The spirits’ impressions of his friends were almost too good.

“What am I supposed to see?” Thomas asked Virgil softly, even though nobody but the other spirits could hear or see them.

“Keep an eye out...especially on the other customers.” Virgil’s eyes were darting around warily. “It might take you a little bit to adjust. In the meantime—“

“Hey! Patton! That is not your dog!”

“—keep them under control,” Virgil finished under his breath as Thomas rushed forward to prevent Patton from taking a pomeranian out of someone’s shopping cart.

“Look at how cute she is!! Why don’t you have a dog, Thomas?”

“Because there’s no space for one, Patton. Do not kidnap this dog. Put her down.”

“Thomas, is this your shopping list? Really?” Logan said from somewhere off to his left. “You need more fiber in your diet. Where are the vitamins located?”

“Logan, stay here—he’s gone.”

“What nerds,” Roman said confidently. “They look like they’re yelling at nobody! I, however, possess the acting skills to not act as if I’m talking to an invisible companion—oh my gosh, is that Moana on Blu-Ray? Why is that in the clearance section? I’m out!”

“Roman, please...no…” Thomas hit his forehead. He looked up just in time to see that Patton was following the lady with the pomeranian as if being drawn by an invisible thread. “Okay, nope. Patton, you’ve lost your human privileges. Virgil, I’m trusting you.”

“Aww!” Patton complained, but he turned back into a translucent Thomas. Virgil sputtered a bit, but he took Patton’s place immediately. Thomas flickered opaque for only a second.

“Give me a little warning next time,” Virgil growled in Terrence’s voice. Then he felt his face. “Huh. Wow. I haven’t actually been human yet.”

Thomas breathed a little easier. “Okay. Guys, it’s really important that three of you stay human at all times so that nobody sees me appear out of nowhere. And you were the ones who told me it’d be dangerous if all four of you were human at one time, so uh, try not to do that either. Let’s find Logan.”

Logan was in the breakfast aisle filling his shopping cart with healthy bran cereals. (Hidden under a pile of granola clusters was a single box of sugary kids’ cereal with space facts printed on the back, and it was advertising a chance to win free tickets to the Air and Space Museum.)

“Nope. No. That stuff is gross and it’s too expensive.”

“We’ll compromise, then. What are your thoughts on prune juice?”

Thomas took a deep breath. “Virgil, please help Logan put the cereal back. You guys are the rational ones, and I’m trusting you, okay? Patton, let’s collect Roman.”

The two spirits raced across the store. Thomas had to persuade Patton not to get too distracted with the toys and board games. They finally found Roman browsing a stack of CDs in the music aisle.

“Roman,” Thomas sighed, “why.”

“Sorry, Thompadre! The pop songs beckoned. So this is what the kids are listening to nowadays...Kidz Bop 37. A tragedy. A travesty!”

“Ooh! Can we get that?” Patton asked.

“Focus, please, guys.”

“Uh oh,” Roman said suddenly. He pointed at Thomas’ chest. Thomas was opaque again.

“What are they doing??” he cried. “They’re supposed to stay in human mode! All right, come on. No more getting distracted!”

Virgil and Logan were no longer near the cereal, where Thomas was sure he’d at least implied they should stay, so they made another mad dash across the store: Thomas, who, while opaque, was unable to touch anything and could only hope that he didn’t fall straight through anything placed in his path; Patton, who was freely able to run through solid objects and scout ahead; and Roman, who’d stopped being Joan and switched to Valerie at some point.

“They’re in the freezer aisle!” he heard Patton call, so Thomas followed his voice. They eventually came across Virgil, who leaned on a shopping cart while Logan (in spirit form) had merged with a shelf of ice cream. He appeared to be checking the ingredients on the backs of the cartons.

Virgil shrugged when he saw them. “He wanted to find frozen vegetables. And I couldn’t say no to ice cream and sad microwave dinners.”

“You’re supposed to be the sensible one, Encyclopedia Clown!” Roman shouted at Logan, forgetting that the other people in the aisle could hear him apparently yelling at nothing.

“Shh! I had to check whether these contained potassium.”

“You couldn’t take them out like a normal person?!”

“This is more efficient! Oh, sorry, Thomas. Did I cause problems?”

“Thankfully, not yet,” said Thomas. “Uhhh...Patton, can you turn human again?”

Patton walked smartly into an unoccupied aisle and came out as Talyn. “Focus up, kids, we have to keep the tally even...the tallykat3!”

“That was pretty bad,” said Thomas.

Everything was finally back under control, so Thomas found himself relaxing. He rubbed his eyes. He thought being invisible for an extended period of time might be affecting his vision, because suddenly everything looked blurry, the colors too saturated.

“Ugh, I’m ready to go home already,” he said aloud. “Except I’m still not sure why I should be here. What was it you guys wanted...me...to see…?”

His voice trailed off when he realized the spirits were all fixated on something behind him. He whirled around to see a massive dark shape, radiating malevolence, that hung silently in the air.

“...that.”

***

Next Chapter

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides au #chapter #the elemental sides

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rainagainstmywindow · 7 years ago

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Breaking Vows

So here’s my fic for the @wlwpjoexchange ! I got @omegasmileyface I really hope you like it! Sorry I took forever, I got a little carried away because I loved this pairing so much! It’s my first time writing wlw and I loved it and ahhh I just hope you like!

Reyna found the Greeks excitement quite absurd. She didn’t doubt the Huntress’ abilities, she’d seen Thalia Grace in action herself, but she’d also seen her sister and the Amazons. They didn’t stand a chance, especially in such a rudimentary game of capture the flag. Apparently the Greek campers had never beaten the Hunters of Artemis, but they all seemed to be rooting for them. “Sorry,” said Jason as he walked over to her Pegasus. He was wearing a gray shirt that read Hunters Rule!

Reyna chuckled. “Let the best sister win.” He dipped his head but seemed pretty amused by the whole ordeal. Reyna watched him join Piper and Annabeth who both waved back at her.

Hylla was more than happy to let her warriors fight while she led from the background, often choosing to come in as a last resort or as a surprise, but she’d been eager to fight Artemis’ Lieutenant herself.

“This is going to be awesome.” Now it was Percy who spoke beside her. He was already mounted on his own black Pegasus, Blackjack she heard him call him.

“Yes,” agreed Reyna. “I rather enjoy watching my sister fight.”

“Yeah I heard she’s deadly. If she’s anything like you, the hunters will have a good fight on their hands.”

“I’ve seen Thalia in action, the Amazons won‘t be disappointed either.”

Percy’s smile had a little mischief. “You talk like you already know who’s gonna win.”

“They hunters will put on a good fight, I expect nothing less from a daughter of Jupiter, but the Amazons are, like you said, deadly.”

“Zeus,” Percy corrected as he took off into the air, shaking his head with an amused look similar to Jason’s. “She’s a daughter of Zeus.”

Reyna rolled her eyes. She wasn’t underestimating Thalia. She was just being realistic. Her sister had to fight for her throne and her warriors didn’t have the protection of mortality. Her sister had also been leading the Amazons longer as far as she knew. Plus, and she would never said this aloud from fear of sounding pretentious, she’d taken down Thalia with her hands tied before.

She kicked off into the air. Below her Greek and Roman campers alike gathered at the entrance of the woods to see the two groups of lethal women burst into action. Reyna hadn’t been allowed to referee due to her relation to Hylla, but had still been granted permission to observe from above, along with several other skilled Pegasus riders. She’d been surprised to find that Annabeth hadn’t been chosen as the Greek referee, but she’d laughed it off and said that she’d be too biased. Jason had briefly mentioned something about Thalia and her being on the run together when they were younger.

Chiron looked up at them from the ground. Ready? Dakota nodded and she saw Percy do the same from the corner of her eye. The centaur blew the whistle and they were off. Reyna immediately scanned for Thalia and Hylla, but she figured they were seeking the other out, waiting for the right moment. Meanwhile she observed a young girl make a rather spectacular shot, pinning one of her sister’s warriors to a tree. The campers cheered in the background, Leo had set up a live feed to some screens at the entrance of the woods. Will Solace rushed to the warrior but she simply yanked the arrow, snapped it at her knee and ran after the young girl.

Reyna looked up at Percy who had flown further to her right. He looked down in concentration, whistle ready at his lips, unable to help himself from smiling every now and again. He kept scanning the woods. Reyna knew that he too was looking for the leaders.

Finally, after twenty minutes filled with expectation, thunder rumbled followed by the surprised shriek of an Amazon. Reyna urged her pegasus to get closer. She caught a glimpse of celestial bronze knives and smiled as she heard the clink of Hylla’s belt follow. Below her Amazons and Hunters engaged in impressive battle. Celestial bronze hunting knives and arrows against the spears, swords and daggers of the Amazons. The campers were relishing the fighting but Reyna paid no attention. She swept towards the place where she’d heard Thalia’s lightning. She was approaching a clearing. When she saw her sister emerge, knives in hand, she almost growled in anticipation.

She was now almost shoulder to shoulder with Percy, who had dropped any act of referring and was now watching as eagerly as she. “There’s Thalia,” he said, pointing at a dark figure perched atop a tree. She was holding a bow and arrow to her sister’s head. Hylla didn’t even flinch at the threat, her eyes fixed intently on her target. Reyna cursed for not bringing a pair of binoculars, but Percy seemed to be reading her mind and handed her a pair she hadn’t noticed he had around his neck. He was smiling, eyes never once leaving the two girls.

Through the binoculars Reyna got a clearer view of Thalia’s face. She seemed to be weighing out her options. Finally, she smirked and threw her bow aside, making her quiver disappear. She told her sister something that made her grin and pulled out her own hunting knives. Thalia jumped out of the tree and in a split second the daughters of Bellona and Zeus had attacked.

Reyna could admire both styles, Thalia’s clearly Greek but still different from other Greek campers she’d met, and her sister’s an even balance of powerful blows and speed. One such blow was too quick for Thalia, who was almost swept off her feet when Hylla lunged towards her torso, leaving an opening for her sister to kick one of Thalia’s knives away. Thalia retaliated by taking advantage of her free hand and punching the Amazon Queen square in the face. Percy almost laughed beside her but passed it off as a cough when she glared at him.

Below them the fight continued with no acknowledgement of the lack of weapon and bloody nose. Reyna thought it had ended for good when Thalia slid between her sister’s legs, making a nasty gash as she went along, but Hylla simply grabbed her by one of the many chains she wore around her neck and slammed her back on the ground, knife pressed to her throat. The Amazon stood over her just like Reyna had back in Puerto Rico. She recalled the raspiness of Thalia’s voice as she whispered close enough for her lips to feel her breath, but was pulled out of her thoughts when thunder clapped above them, almost hitting her and Percy, and traveled down to where both girls were. Reyna almost swept down to her sister, scared of what a direct lightning strike might do to her but Percy held her back. “C’mon, Reyna,” he told her, “Thalia wouldn’t do that.”

Thankfully, Percy was right. Somehow Thalia had dispersed the full force of the strike, causing the air around her and Hylla to crackle with electricity and her sister’s hair to puff up twice its size. It was enough to get Hylla to loosen her grip and for Thalia to jump back into action. Both girls blurred into a mess of knives and battle cries. Reyna saw another knife fly away, but this time it had been her sister’s. They finally slowed down enough for them to catch a glimpse of their state. Hylla was bleeding for the deep cut Thalia had inflicted on her leg as well as her bloody nose, and Thalia herself had a black eye and a bit of a limp. Reyna focused on their faces and found that they were both smiling. They seemed to be enjoying the show just as much as Reyna and Percy. She caught Thalia’s eyes travelling to her sister’s belt and both girls seemed to come to a sort of silent agreement. They both dropped their remaining knives, her sister unfastening her belt and striking it against the ground menacingly and Thalia pulling out a bracelet that suddenly transformed into a spear. Beside Reyna Percy cursed excitedly in what she guessed was Ancient Greek.

Clearly both girls had been saving the best for last. Each weapon was practically and extension of them. Hylla swung her belt with lighting speed catching one of Thalia’s ankles and tossing her into the air, but the young Lieutenant simply twisted in mid-air and used every last bit of the wider range her spear provided. It was speed and technique like Reyna had rarely ever seen. They seemed to move closer and closer until, “Percy!” called Dakota, “What are you doing?” Percy immediately turned, clearly annoyed by the distraction and looked at where Dakota was pointing. This time he cursed in English, and he didn’t seem as excited as before.

Reyna was trying hard to concentrate, Thalia had the tip of her spear pointed at her sister’s carotid and Hylla had managed to wrap the belt around Thalia’s throat, but just then Percy blew his whistle at them. “Hey!” He called. “You have no idea how much I hate to interrupt, but your girls seem to be having too much fun trying to kill each other!”

Reyna finally tore her gaze from the binoculars and urged her Pegasus to move closer to where Percy had sped off. She was shocked to see the forest decimated. It looked as if a tornado had hit it. Below her trees swayed, trying hard not to fall altogether, and fires seemed to have erupted all over the fields. “Hey!” Percy yelled. “Careful with the nymphs!” When he noticed that neither Amazons nor Hunters reacted to his yells or whistles he directed his voice towards the spectators. “Call the Demeter cabin! Quick!” Dozens of campers ran at his command and then he turned to Reyna. “Get Thalia and Reyna to break them up!”

Reyna nodded as he sped away and swept down to where she’d last seem her sister and Thalia. They were already running towards the commotion. “What happened?” Hylla asked, wiping some blood off her top lip.

“The Amazons and Hunters seemed to have gotten a little carried away. I think they might’ve forgotten the creatures that live inside the forest.”

“What?!” Thalia looked furious, her blue eyes flashed terrifyingly. The look made Reyna’s heart race. Thalia ran towards her Hunters, forgetting about her limp, Hylla followed after her.

The scene they arrived at was chaos. Several campers were trying to tear Hunters from Amazons and vice versa but they seemed to be in a frenzy. There were several fires erupting around them and Reyna saw several nymphs running around in a panic. Thalia and Hylla stared dumbfounded, but it was Thalia who spoke first. One of her hunters had already spotted her and the mere sight of her lieutenant seemed to be enough to stop her in her tracks.

“What is the meaning of this?” She wasn’t shouting, but her voice seemed to boom over the clearing. Slowly more and more hunters noticed their leader and stopped. Amazons did the same when they noticed Hylla’s furious look, a look that made Reyna feel sorry for the Amazons once they were alone with her sister. Thalia’s tactics were different though, she wanted the punishment to be public. Reyna once again remembered that she hadn’t been lieutenant for long, not by immortal hunter’s standards, and understood the need to make a show of the situation. “What exactly do you expect me to tell Lady Artemis when she hears of this? Her own hunters damaging that which she swore to protect?” Reyna caught her features turn into a disgusted snarl as she looked around, “you’ve brought me shame!” We’re guests in this Camp!”

By then all commotion had ceased completely. No Hunter would spare to look a their lieutenant in the eye. The Amazons has dropped their weapons and stood frozen, waiting to hear what their own queen had to say. Hylla said nothing which was possibly worse. Just then a wave swept over the clearing, quickly putting out any fires. Percy dropped down from his Pegasus soon after. He’d spared Reyna, Hylla and Thalia but hadn’t even tried to cover the other girls, they stood soaked and embarrassed. Some even threw him angry looks he ignored. A petite girl charged out from on of the bushes that had been previously on fire. She looked quite odd to Reyna but she couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t until she yanked the whistle from around Percy’s neck and started blowing it furiously did she notice her skin was green. Reyna figured she must be a nymph. “It’s a draw!” She shrieked furiously. “You all lose! You wicked women! The Council will hear of this! My boyfriend-“

“Yes. Thank you, Juniper!” Percy quickly stepped in, taking the whistle from her hand. “I agree.”

“The Council?” Reyna heard her sister ask.

“Yes!” Answered the nymph, Juniper, testily. It was obvious to her that Hylla was one of the leaders. “And you shall all be punished for this abominable conduct!”

“Agreed.” The nymph seems a bit taken aback by her sister’s instant agreement. “I will meet with your Council at once. I will also like to apologize to you personally for the action of my warriors. Know that this won’t go unnoticed by me either.”

Juniper lost her rage fast. “Yes yes, thank you! You are forgiven...m’lady.” Apparently she considers a courtesy was necessary since she bowed and scrunched up her soaked dress in a Victorian fashion. She directed her green eyes at Thalia now and some of her fire seemed to come back. “I expect you’ll do the same, Thalia. And don’t think that because Grover-“

“I know Juniper. I’m really sorry this should’ve never happened.”

She gave another firm nod, chin up high, and turned around and disappeared into the forest. Reyna turned to look at Thalia just in time to catch her off guard. For a second she looked tired and embarrassed, then she noticed her and quickly went back to yelling at her hunters. Arrangements to meet with the council tomorrow evening were hastily made.

All Reyna could think about as she walked back was the look she’d seen on Thalia’s face and how much it reminded her of herself.

**********

“It was embarrassing that’s what it was!” Thalia told Jason later that day. They were inside their father’s cabin. “And of course Hylla kept her composure the whole time and I just lost it!”

“You have more to prove than she does. I probably would’ve done the same.” He looked quite uncomfortable inside the mostly empty cabin. Thalia noticed how he kept eyeing the huge statue of Zeus in the middle. She couldn’t blame him, it’d always creeped her out. “Couldn’t we meet in your cabin?”

“This is my cabin.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I can’t bring a guy into Artemis’s cabin, it’s against the rules.” She sighed as she looked around. Jason had left the little corner she’d camped out in untouched. “I got carried away. I don’t know I just wanted to prove something I guess.”

Jason looked confused at her. “You’re freaking Thalia Grace! What is there to prove?”

Thalia immediately thought of her little audience back in the forest. Was she showing off? As soon as the thought entered her mind she found, to her horror, that she was blushing. She quickly turned away, but apparently Jason caught it.

“Okay whoa!” He said. “There’s definitely something you’re not telling me here.”

“Shudup,” she mumbled, absolutely furious at herself. She was an adult for crying out loud! Lady Artemis’s right hand and lieutenant to a small army of deadly hunters! She cleared her throat. “It’s nothing okay.”

But Jason wasn’t about to drop this. He walked around to get a good look at her face. She begrudgingly looked up at him. There was a wickedly mischievous grin forming on his face. “What is up with you, sis?”

She looked back at her hands, afraid she might blush again. This was Jason, she could tell him anything. She was being stupid, right? “I just...remember how I told you about Puerto Rico? Well I might’ve left some details out.”

“Like?”

She sighed, pushing down her ego and ignoring the heat that rose back to her face. “Like maybe your good friend Reyna pretty much kicked my ass with her hands tied. And maybe I noticed her and dumbass Percy watching me and Hylla fighting earlier and wanted to show off okay!”

She looked up at him once again. His face seemed to change from confusion, to understanding, and finally to amusement. “You were showing off for Reyna?”

“What?! No! When you say it like that it sounds weird!”

He laughed. Gods he really annoyed her sometimes. “What then?”

“I just wanted her to see that I wasn’t someone she could just beat every time! She caught me off guard that time! That I deserve the praise-” She cut herself off. Gods she sounded full of herself. “What I mean is-”

“That you wanted to impress her.” Thalia thought he might be making fun of her again but he seemed genuinely determined to understand her. Somehow it made her feel worse.

“Who? Reyna?” Thalia wanted to brush it off, but in all honesty Jason had hit the nail on its head. The realization made Thalia panic. Why would she want to impress her? “Just forget it okay? I gotta go prepare for the stupid meeting tomorrow.”

“I could h-”

“No it’s fine.”

The door slammed shut as Thalia left. Jason stood there, debating whether or not to follow her.

The next morning he still felt guilty about the whole ordeal. He could tell that he’d further embarrassed her sister and that yesterday that was the last thing she needed. Once again he felt like there was so much he didn’t know about his sister, so he went to the person that seemed to know her best.

Annabeth was in the arena, watching closely as two young campers sparred and stepping in every now and again to correct their posture or make a quick note. She nodded when she saw him but gestured at him to give her a second. Jason stood patiently as a new set of kids sparred. Once they were done Annabeth walked towards him. “Hey! What’s up? I know I haven’t gotten back to you about the temple-”

“Oh no it’s okay. Percy told me you were busy with college applications. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else.”

He walked beside her as she dropped her weapon off at the shed and took a swing of water. “Thalia?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“She stopped by my cabin last night. She seemed weird.”

“She’s pretty upset about yesterday.”

Annabeth shook her head. “No. I mean it sucked and everything but she’s dealt with worse. She seemed almost,” she shrugged, “I don’t know frazzled? Which I didn’t really think possible.”

Jason agreed. “She told me something about Puerto Rico and Reyna disarming her or something.”

Annabeth stopped mid-sip. “She never told me that. She didn’t even mention Reyna.”

Jason found that even more odd. Thalia told Annabeth everything. “Apparently she wanted to show off. Show her she wasn’t easy to beat or something.”

Annabeth still didn’t look convinced. “I mean sure that sounds more like her. She had this whole ego battle with Percy years ago, but she got over it. She grew out of it y’know? Did she say that?”

“Those were her words, but in all honesty I think she was trying to impress her.”

Annabeth got that look in her eye, the one that told Jason her thoughts were moving faster than he could comprehend. “I bet it’s nothing,” she said abruptly, “just stress or something. I don’t know.”

It seemed to Jason that in fact it wasn’t nothing and that Annabeth did know, but before he could question her further she mumbled something about needing a shower and rushed off.

**************

Reyna knew it was foolish of her to stay an extra day at Camp Half-Blood. There was too much work to be done and it wasn’t fair for her to leave Frank to do all of it. But she’d stayed anyways. Frank had told her it was fine in the Iris Message she’d sent, she was still getting used to it but Percy was nice enough to set it up for her. He’d understood she didn’t often get to see Hylla and since her stayed had been extended due to yesterday’s fiasco he figured it made sense. In all honesty Reyna hadn’t even thought about her sister. She felt guilty, but all she’d been able to think about since yesterday was Thalia Grace, and how utterly deadly she looked using that spear.

It was just her luck that in that moment, Thalia Grace herself was walking back to her cabin, tired and annoying after getting an earful from an ancient satyr and sheepish looks from Grover during the Council meeting. Reyna was so engrossed in her mental picture of Thalia in battle that she didn’t notice Thalia walking towards her. The daughter of Zeus, in turn, was so busy grumbling and she didn’t notice Reyna, which resulted in both girls running into each other and ending in an almost identical situation as the one months prior. This time, however, Thalia had ended on top. She cursed but stopped mid-sentence once she noticed who’d she’d actually run into. “Reyna! Gods, I’m sorry! I didn’t even see you!”

“Don’t be! I walked right into you-”

“I should’ve looked up or something.”

Had anyone been around, they would’ve been able to comment on how strangely high both their voices had gotten, and how intensely they looked at each other when they both abruptly stopped their rambling. After a couple of seconds Thalia was the one to notice and almost jumped back when Reyna’s shaky breath touched her lips. She got up an offered her hand to Reyna, who in turn accepted, unable to keep a blush from creeping to her cheeks. Both girls stood awkwardly facing each other, neither one used to feeling this nervous. Reyna tried to ease the tension a bit. “So...how was the Council meeting?”

A small flicker of annoyance passed through Thalia’s face. Reyna preferred it over the deer-caught-in-headlights expression she’d worn before. “Awful,” she said, “your sister knows how to handle official business much better than me.”

“Surprisingly diplomatic for someone so aggressive, right?”

Thalia chuckled. “Where you waiting for her?”

Reyna once again failed to hide a blush. In all honesty, she hadn’t been waiting for her sister. She’s subconsciously walked to this clearing, a small part of her expecting her to run into someone, maybe not quite so literally. “Yeah-yes,”she lied, “Did you see where she went?”

“I think she went back to the Amazons. I don’t really know where they’re staying.”

“Hylla likes it that way. She didn’t even tell me.” Reyna felt guilty at not even trying to look. Surely, Hylla expected her to and was probably wondering why she hadn’t already been to see her.

Beside Reyna, Thalia was building up the courage to ask Reyna something. She hadn’t really figured out what she was going to ask but she’d jump that hurdle when she got there. Reyna’s thoughts, however, had stayed on her sister and she’d made up her mind to finally go see her. “I should get going,” she told Thalia, whose mouth was half-way open. She quickly hurried away, leaving Thalia feeling confused and once again embarrassed. Reyna was almost gone when she stopped and faced Thalia once again. “By the way,” she started, a bit of a smile hiding in the corner of her smile, “nice fighting yesterday, quite impressive.”

************

Thalia’s head buzzes with Reyna’s words all day. As punishment, her hunters and her got assigned to wash the dishes at camp and she’s so distracted she almost plunges her hand into the lava without any gloves. Cara stops her just in time and gives her a weird look. Thalia is reminded of a very similar look given to her by Annabeth earlier. We need to talk. Annabeth sure hadn’t gotten any less bossy. Thalia figured Jason must’ve told her something. Not that there was anything to tell.

That night Thalia entered cabin six to find Annabeth analyzing some blueprints. “What are you working on now?”

“Remodelations, temples, same old.” She waved it away but Thalia still felt a surge of pride. She remembered seven-year-old Annabeth going on and on about all the things she wanted to build. Back then Thalia would nod along but knew deep down that they’d be lucky to get past the week, a future where she became an architect didn’t really seem possible. Yet there she was. “Talked to Jason,” Annabeth said, still looking at the blueprints, “he seems to be under the impression that he upset you.”

“Why would he think that?”

Annabeth fixed her with a look, a look that Thalia herself had taught her, that said cut the bullshit. “What’s going on with you?”

Thalia was tempted to say nothing and keep ignoring the weird ball of nerves in her stomach lately, but this was Annabeth. “I-I don’t know. It’s weird and stupid.” Annabeth rolled the blueprint up and finally looked up at her. Thalia was thankful the cabin was empty and suspected Annabeth had planned it ahead. “I feel stupid.”

“For wanting to impress Reyna?”

A small pang of annoyance hit Thalia but she pushed it down. Annabeth didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, Okay? What the hell is wrong with me?”

“So it’s not an ego thing?”

“What? No!”

Annabeth looked more interested than before. “Good.”

“I mean I wasn’t super pleased with what happened in Puerto Rico but it might have more to do with the fact that I lost Phoebe.”

Annabeth nodded. “She was one hell of a huntress.”

Thalia thought that Phoebe was more than just one hell of a huntress. She’d been her best friend among the hunters and had backed her up since day one. But she knew Annabeth understood. They’d shared loss before. “I don’t know what got into me to be honest. I mean Hylla is a bit intimidating with how she handles all the command stuff but if anything I’m glad she’s there to set an example for me to follow.”

Annabeth chuckled. “Wow, look at Thalia all grown up and mature.”

“Shut up.” She couldn’t even keep the smile from her face. She really missed Annabeth. “I actually ran into her today. Reyna, I mean.”

“And?”

“And I mean literally ran into her. Knocked her down and everything. As if yesterday wasn’t bad enough!”

Annabeth laughed. “So,” she got closer to Thalia and nudged her in the ribs, “did you ask her out or what?”

Thalia almost jumped straight into the air. Her heart raced. “Wh-”

“C’mon, Thalia. I saw how you looked at her. It’s okay.”

“Of course it isn’t!” Thalia has started whispering. “I made a vow Annabeth and-”

“And what?” Her grey eyes seemed to be challenging Thalia, but she’d seen them before a fight, this wasn’t it. “You’ve given so much Thalia. You deserve this, whatever it is. We don’t owe anything to the gods.” Thalia couldn’t help but be reminded of Luke. Annabeth saw it in her eyes. “He would’ve wanted you to keep trying, to allow yourself-”

“Stop.” It wasn’t only the vow she’d made to Lady Artemis. It was the fact that she’d made a much stronger vow, to herself. She’d promised herself never again the moment she’d pushed Luke off that cliff.

Both girls looked at each other but said nothing. They didn’t have to. Annabeth’s face told Thalia don’t give up and Thalia’s argued right back I already have.

***********

Reyna was only half-surprised to find Jason in the fighting arena. Back in Camp Jupiter they always ended up training at the same times, even before they were praetors. That’s how they’d become friends. No one really spoke to Jason, he was a son of Jupiter from a disgraced cohort, but Reyna had seen him fight before and welcomed the idea of a good training partner. He looked up at her and smiled. “Just like old times.”

“With the minor adjustment of this being an arena in a Greek camp.”

He laughed. “Right.”

The silence that followed was awkward, but Jason seemed determined to pretend like nothing had changed, at least for a little while. He drew his sword and Reyna followed almost on instinct. Before they both knew it they were sparring. Reyna was surprised to find some of the Greek style had seeped into Jason’s technique, but she hadn’t lagged on her trying all these months. Overall it felt good to fight with Jason again. She found herself letting go for the first time in almost a year. She’d missed him, missed this.

Afterwards they both sat, trying to catch their breath and taking turns drinking out of Jason’s canteen. It was almost painful how easy it was to go back to this routine because, at the end of the day, everything had changed. Reyna had to go back to Camp Jupiter and she’d only see Jason every now and then. He had new friends, new responsibilities.

“I missed this, “ he finally said.

“So did I,” she agreed.

He sighed and looked at his hands. She could tell he was nervous. He always bit down on that scar on his lip. “I just wanted to say I was sorry.” She looked away so he rushed to make himself clearer. “What I mean is that I just showed up after nine months like nothing had happened and treated you like a stranger.”

“I know you were still struggling with you memory, Jason.”

Reyna hated talking about things like this. Jason knew it, but he’d already stayed silent on the matter for too long. “No, Reyna. I was scared of going back, scared of how much I changed. But, all those months, they don’t erase the fact that you’re my friend. That you fought beside me and had my back for years.”

Reyna braced herself to look at him. It seemed foolish now that she’d been nervous about talking to him. It was Jason after all. And maybe he had glasses now, and he fought more like Greek and he had a girlfriend and friends she didn’t know, but he was still Jason. “I still have your back Jason. Always.”

“You too, Rey.” Gods she’d missed him. She didn’t have to be put-together for him. Seeing him come back to Camp Jupiter, their home, and treat it like it didn’t matter as much as it does had shattered her, and the worst part was that she’d had to keep her poker face on throughout the whole thing. The fact that he acknowledged it, acknowledged her, was like having a huge weight lifted off her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he told her again, “and I get if you don’t want to go back to how we were-”

“Of course I want to, Jason!” She cursed herself for raising her voice and felt her face go red with shame as she felt the sting of tears but kept going. If she stopped she would never say what she’d been fearing since she realized he was actually alive. “I just thought that it wasn’t a possibility anymore. You’re finally who we dreamed of being! Who I always saw you pushing down all those years! And I don’t know if I fit into your life now-”

“Reyna,” true to his Roman upbringing it was Jason who felt the shame of the sting of tears now, “you will always fit into my life. You’re my family.”

They let the silence settle in between them after that. It wasn’t uncomfortable. They were both mildly aware of the other wiping a few tears away here and there, but the awkward tension that had been following since Jason came back to Camp Jupiter was mostly gone. It wasn’t exactly like before, Reyna doubted it ever would be, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

After a while Jason asked: “How much longer are you staying? Just until Hylla leaves?”

Reyna had actually come back from talking to her sister when she decided to head to the arena to squeeze in some training. “She’s leaving tonight, actually. She promised the Council to check on some endangered nymphs so they’re heading out.”

“Hylla must share your bargaining skills, because the Hunters have to wash the dishes all week.”

Reyna chuckled along but a small spark on interest flourished in her chest. “So, Th-your sister is staying all week?”

“Seems like it, yeah.” Jason eyed Reyna suspiciously from the corner of his eye. Reyna pretended to ignore it. “She actually mentioned you yesterday.”

“Really?”

“Yeah she noticed you and Percy watching her and Hylla fight.”

“Oh well,” Reyna stalled by taking another swing of water, “they’re both very impressive fighters. I mainly just flew over there to see what was holding up, Percy.” Jason smiled to himself and laughed when Reyna punched his shoulder. “C’mon,” she said as a means to divert the conversation, “let’s go get some food.”

***********

Annabeth had physically forced Thalia to go to the campfire the following night. She’d even had to bring in Percy as reinforcement, for which Thalia had almost accomplished her long-running goal of killing someone with one glare. “C’mon, Grace!” She flinched as the sound of her mother’s last name. “It’s not going to kill you! Jason’ll be there! You could get in some quality sibling bonding time!”

She rolled her eyes and complained the whole walk there, but she finally agreed to go. She had been meaning to talk to Jason again anyways. Thalia had been too busy washing dishes the previous day. When she got there, however, she was surprised to see him seating not only with Piper, but with Reyna as well. “There’s Jason,” Percy stupidly pointed out. He had a dubious grin on. Thalia quickly looked to Annabeth, but of course she’d understood that their conversation, like most of the conversations they had, was very much private. Percy still knew something though. Thalia was once again reminded to never underestimate Percy. He’d been up there watching her and Hylla fight with Reyna during capture the flag after all. This led her to wonder how Reyna had reacted to her. She was already regretting coming to the campfire.

She was formulating a plan on how to run away without Annabeth noticing when Jason saw her. He smiled and beckoned for her to join him where he was sitting. It was just her luck that the only available seat was beside Reyna. They were packed in so snuggly that Thalia’s arm was pressed right besides Reyna. They were both wearing sleeveless shirts, so their bare skin was touching. Thalia felt as her whole arm were on fire. Piper was telling them something about her sister, Lacie, and this strange girl she’d seen at her school, but Thalia could barely concentrate. It was like waging a small war with herself and she kept losing. A small strand of Reyna’s hair had fallen loose from her braid as well, and every time Reyna leaned forward it tickled Thalia’s chin. She rushed up to rub the feeling away and accidentally caught Reyna’s eyes. And, once again, she lost the small war, but this time she didn’t fight back. You’ve given so much, she remembered Annabeth telling her.

Maybe I deserve to try.

Reyna’s eyes were strong and vulnerable all at the same time. When she finally looked away Thalia found that she kept searching for them. She was probably doing a crappy job at keeping up with the conversation, and for a second she felt guilty about not making a bigger effort to listen to her brother. Then she remembered how Jason had moved towards Piper when he’d seen her, opening a space for her to seat beside Reyna. So she sat half-listening to Jason and Piper talk and sing along to cheesy songs. Her other half slowly melted into Reyna’s side. Their hands ended up touching and Thalia felt her heart in her throat as neither one pulled away. Finally, she felt a familiar huff of breath hit the side of her face. “Let’s get out of here,” Reyna said. Thalia grabbed her hand and pulled them into the forest. She knew that if she looked back she’d lose her nerve so she kept going until she found a clearing with enough moonlight. She was forced to look back when she felt Reyna’s hand finally pull away.

Reyna was looking up at the moon, but quickly looked back down at her. Her eyes only stayed momentarily on hers, then they moved down until they rested on her lips. Thalia was out of breath due to the combined factors of almost running to the clearing and of her heart suddenly choosing to beat erratically. She felt like bolting when Reyna moved closer towards her, but found that her body didn’t respond. All she could do was keep her eyes trained on Reyna, and she finally allowed herself to think: gods she’s beautiful. Reyna wasn’t wearing her purple cape, or armor. Thalia realized she’d never seen her without a combination of both. She looked more real with a simple pair of jeans and a purple shirt. She looked achingly human. Thalia’s hand moved of its own accord to cup her face. She could feel Reyna’s equally fast heartbeat, could tell she was just as nervous. But they both seemed resolved to stay.

Reyna felt more like herself than she had in years. She was scared, terrified actually, but she wasn’t thinking about anything in particular when she looked at Thalia. She caught sight of her lips, felt her hand -rough with callouses from years of wielding a weapon- on her face, and let go.

Thalia thought Reyna’s lips tasted like glory.

#wlwpjoexchange #omegasmileyface #ramwfics #ramwfic #thalia/reyna #reyna/thalia #wlw pjo #thalia grace #reyna avila ramirez arellano #merry christmas #6.4k #theyna

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amandahoyle · 5 years ago

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My boys first night actually together and being soft and cute.

I am the most proud of this because I didn’t give them enough personal time together in the first one so I made up for it in this one.

"Maybe you were just late to notice. I would not mind a beautiful woman keeping you distracted, after all Arwyn is my second." The look he got could have killed anything standing and laughter slipped past his lips.

"You know that I don't have feelings for her. That's just rude." Fingers found his own and intertwined with them. Cold but perfect against his own.

"I know. I was teasing." Something he had never really done. Not often.

"So I can see. You are terrible at it, you should practice more. How long have you been here then, skulking around in the shadows?" Fingers played softly against his own and he huffed softly under his breath. He had not been skulking. No he had simply been observing and seeing how Croi had gotten along here. That was all.

"I was not skulking. I was just, curious how you had been and I see that you are fitting in here perfectly. Your father would be proud. I am proud of you, mo chroi. I am also very happy to see you but I did not want myself to be a distraction for you. You were busy." It was true, he didn't want to take away from Croi's night with his people and Croi's responsibilities. He knew what it was like to have people to look after, he may not be a king but Lord of the Hunt wasn't all that far off as some like Madoc believed. He had told Croi last time that their responsibilities and people would come first, and not just his own. The moments they could have together would be be rare and few between on both of their parts. Meaningful but sparse. Gwyn did assume it would be mostly himself, though he knew that Croi would not be without his own concerns and responsibilities.

"I haven't really done anything to be proud of...not yet. I do have something I wanted to talk with you about but not right now. I've missed you and I just want to spend some time with you before you have to go. Come on." Croi got to his feet, tugging Gwyn up with him. He wanted to ask what the other meant but that would ruin the time they did have together. He knew he would tell him eventually, and it was hard to turn off that part of him that was all business. Especially when things outside of that made him nervous and he was nervous as he followed Croi. Alone time they had only had once, and even then it had been different than this. Gwyn had so much on his mind then, so much to tell him. Business and he was good with that. He was good with being serious, but with having fun and just relaxing and enjoying the moment. He was not good at that. More so when it went more romantic and for pleasure. He hadn't done that in a very long time.

Croi led him the one house like structure, and Gwyn felt the magic as they went inside. Croi's magic and he was impressed. Last he had seen the other's touch of magic, it had been more ice and snow and less controlled. Controlled enough to not do it randomly but this was a lot different and he was proud of him even more. He let the other's hand go, a soft smile on his lips as he looked around. Oh yes the place very much screamed the other. Full of nature and yet a mess at the same time.

"It looks like a tornado has been through here, you've become quite messy on your own." The look he got was worth his attempt at teasing and he moved over stopping the other from picking anything up. It was all on the floor and most of it clothes and books, he didn't mind that. It actually felt homey with everything like this. Lived in. The Hunt always moved and kept very little personal items and Gwyn himself had not been in a place that felt truly like a home since he was young, he missed it. Gwyn was curious about all the books, but he let it go. Croi deserved better than him bombarding him with questions. He could do the one thing he was good at and be silent and enjoy the other's attention. He wrapped his arms around Croi's waist, letting go of his wrist once he was sure that he wasn't going to try and clean again.

"Leave it. Its not in the way. I don't want to miss out on any time. Come lay down with me?" He nodded towards the bed before slowly letting him go. His hands lingering on the other as much as he could. His heart was in his throat and he knew that it showed. Even if his voice was calm and didn't waver, his eyes were different. The wide grin on Croi's lips made that clear and he was prepared to be teased about being nervous but those weren't the words that escaped the other's lips. Not at all, in fact, he was strangely quiet as he took Gwyn's hand and led him to lay down. Gwyn got comfortable on the bed, as best as he could. He wasn't used to something soft and he was still in full dress, blade and all. It didn't take long for the other to notice and tug him back to his feet.

"You are cute, you know that? Absolutely adorable. Relax, you can drop your stuff wherever you want, or you can put it on table with my weapons. It's all safe here, I'm the only one that comes in here, outside of Faill and the worst she does is bring in dead animals." There was a playful cringe and Croi gave him a small push to the shoulder. He moved over to table Croi had motioned at, and undid the belt that held his weapons. He didn't have all of them, most of them were on his mount who he had sent off once Croi's people had gotten curious. She wasn't overly fond of them and he knew that she would come when he called, she would have just been bored waiting around for him. He did however have two blades on him, a regular steel one, and the other one of magic. Specifically Wild Hunt magic. It was safer on his person and as Croi had held it before, he did not worry about leaving it bare and in the open here. His cloak came off next and he laid it down beside his blades and the chill of the air hit him. There was a breeze, a bit cold, but he hadn't noticed with the warm material over his shoulders. He ignored it for now, after all the furs on the bed looked plenty warm enough and something else had caught his attention anyways.

Croi had blades made of steel just as Gwyn did though his were new and undamaged from lack of use. He knew the other didn't like the longer blades. That wasn't what caught his eye, what did was the small dagger. The very familiar silver blade that had once been a gift from the previous Leader of the Hunt and he had in turn gifted to Croi. It was very well taken care of, and it didn't looked like it had been used very often. Even during his time in the Hunt, he had only had to use it once or twice. Now he had even less reason to use it. Gwyn ran his fingers along the gems on the hilt before turning back to the other. He spoke before he got distracted by the sight in front of him.

"You kept it, the dagger." Croi had his back to him, and had tugged the jacket and his shirt off. Both were laying over the edge of the bed and Croi had already managed to get his boots off as well. Once he had tossed those aside he made his way back over to Gwyn, a smile on his lips. Like Gwyn had said something funny and if he had, he had not idea what. Of course, Croi was very distracting shirtless. He had only seen him that way briefly when they shared a sleeping space and of course when he had patched him up when they first met. This was different, he had never lingered on him. Never had the chance to see the scars that covered his back and shoulders. The one across his chest that was deeper than the others. Gwyn liked scars, because he liked seeing proof that others could hold their own, so it didn't bother him but it was distracting. Overall because he was shirtless and walking towards him looking more amused than he had all night.

"Of course I kept it. You gave it to me, why wouldn't I? It means a lot to me and its a little piece of you for when you aren't here." It was sweet and not the answer he had been expecting. He could feel his face heat up and he turned his gaze down to the side as Croi came to stand right in front of him. The other, however didn't let him, not by much. He felt the fingers tugging on his chin and pulling his gaze back to him.

"You are more kind than I deserve." Gwyn would always think that, always. Not that he thought he deserved less, but what had he done to deserve Croi he did not understand. He had not really been his friend before, he had been the leader he was used to being and in that he had taken care of him. Gwyn had fallen quite fast, and it was not a surprise, anyone would be lucky to have Croi. He was wonderful and sweet, and caring, and snarky. Gwyn didn't understand how Croi had fallen for him, he had kept a wall up between them. Even when they got together he was still distant. Now as well, though he was trying not to be. Gwyn was still surprised with the time apart that Croi had picked up where they left off, like they had spent no time apart. He didn't know how to return that, he didn't know what the other needed from him.

"You aren't good at taking compliments. I thought I was bad at it, but you are worse. Its cute. Gwyn, I want to be with you. You deserve to be happy. Leader of the Hunt aside. That isn't all you are and I'd like to see more of you. Know more about you. I know that we won't get to see each other a lot, but we have tonight and we have once a month until winter returns. I don't think that's so bad, its plenty of time if you are open to sharing your life with me." Of course he wanted that, he had just never talked about himself before. He didn't know how to start, and most of all he wanted Croi happy. He never wanted to bore him, or not give him enough of the attention and love he wanted.

"I am, of course. I wouldn't be here, if I didn't want this with you. I just don't know...how. I haven't done this with anyone before you. Not like this, not where I was wanted and I wanted back."

"I haven't either. I mean one night stands occasionally. But no one has ever wanted me. This is new for both of us. I just happen to be better at faking that I know everything." Soft laughter escaped his lips and the fingers moved from Gwyn's jaw and down till their fingers intertwined.

"Let's figure out together. Like you said, let's go lay down. You are still wearing a bit too much." He didn't complain when fingers undid the coarse strings holding his shirt tight on his body. Not at all, when his shirt was tugged over his head and tossed near everything else. The fingers back in his own guided him to the bed and this time when he laid down he was very comfortable and the nerves had receded enough that he could enjoy himself. I almost forgot about the taglist I’m bad. @cawolters

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