#first one was disappointing the second one was actually a pleasant surprise Tumblr posts

[wttcsms]

sorry 4 no new fic, grad school & i like to take turns beating each other’s ass (grad school is winning, but im scrappy & people like to root for the underdog anyway)

[letorip]

kiss with a fist [ii]

"Blood sticks, sweat drips, break the lock if it don't fit, a kick in the teeth is good for some, a kiss with a fist is better than none"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you signed up to help tara with her stupid plan. not whatever the hell one would call this.

warnings: implied sex, use of alcohol, puking, arguing loudly and wrongly, curse words(?)

word count: 5.2k

A/N: sorry to make you wait so long, but here's the second part. there will probably be a third, so fear not, the story doesn't end here. i originally thought i would be able to just end it off right here, but it’s going kind of really well and i think a third or maybe even a fourth part is more reasonable

===+++===

===+++===

For almost the entire walk to the frat house, Tara didn't actually say much. It surprised you too, the way she just glanced around the city that passed as you walked and fiddled with her nails. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but you were so used to Tara having something to say that it made you speak instead.

"Wow, for once, you're speechless," you commented as you passed under a streetlight. Tara shot you a glare, shoving her hands into her jean pockets.

"Would it kill you to shut the hell up?"

“There we go, back to normal. Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” she scoffed. “Mind your own business.”

"I'm just saying."

"Well don't say. Don't say."

===+++===

The party fucking sucked. It was quintessential college, with frat boys who attempted to yell over the loud music that rattled your eardrums. Coolers upon coolers of shitty, cheap beer sat against the far wall, and a crowd had gathered around them to pick off all the free alcohol they could. Maybe a year ago this would’ve been fun. Now you found yourself disenchanted with the ordeal.

Tara was off god knows where, doing god knows what, which you figured was the point of the arrangement anyway. You weren’t too concerned with tracking her down, especially if situation also presented itself as a pleasant bonus— not having to put up with her.

Chad had wandered out of the room when he saw you and Tara arrive together hand in hand, going deeper into the party without a word. He was usually the one you hung around with at these kinds of things, but he had been a sad little dog with his tail between his legs since you and Tara announced you were meant to be a few days before the party. It seemed some of your friends were still adjusting.

The immediate reaction after Tara said “soooo, we’re together,” was to laugh, like you two were doing a bit. It got less funny when they saw you both blankly staring back at them and then Tara grabbed your hand and held it up with a forced smile.

The whole group was going through a somewhat awkward seven stages of grief thing. Chad was avoiding you completely, Quinn was a bit annoyed you were off the market now after an egregious few months of hitting on you, and Ethan was the only one to be a bit normal, even though it was clear he too had a crush on Tara and was disappointed with the matter.

When Mindy had gotten over her disbelief, she dove right into an endless game of questions, only occasionally staved off by Anika. "So who confessed first?" had been one of the first ones, accompanied by a glint in her eye. Tara jumped in before you could even open your mouth, eager to answer.

"(Y/n) showed up on my porch, all sweaty and disgusting looking, just smelling so unbelievably bad it was overpowering-”

“I had been working out,” you rolled your eyes. “That’s why I was sweaty."

“Mhm, whatever. Anyways, apparently they were just being such an asshole because they were in love with me," Tara said, with a wide, shit-eating grin. "Right?"

You had to hide your glare behind your solo cup. "Mhm. I was just overflowing with it. I have so many things to say about you."

“All nice things,” Tara corrected.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Was it?”

“Uh huh.”

Mindy’s questions followed you everywhere she did. Who kissed who first? Who’s more cuddly? Have you guys slept together yet? They volleyed back and forth and you and Tara fought for the first word each time to pin it to the other with gleeful sadism. Of course, it was then flipped around once the next question came and you would huff in annoyance at the other for being an asshole.

It wasn’t as bad of an arrangement as you had dreaded. You only had to be couple-y when other people were watching you two interact, or when Sam would glare in suspicion. Hold hands a few times, smile, share a glance. Other than that, things stayed mostly the same. The group probably appreciated you both not acting head over heels for the other and you liked it because it meant you didn't have to pretend to like her.

Tara had a brazen way about her that made you roll your eyes. She never took no for an answer, had a teasing remark for anything, and always felt the need to be doing something. Other people seemed to find themselves charmed by it. Others, but not you. Never you.

The walk there had been about all she could take of your personality, and the moment after you two were seen together, she ditched you at the door and wandered off to the dance floor. After that you had lost track of her, and ended up splitting your time between the kitchen, the bathroom, and the front room, away from the crowd. Mindy found you there, tugging Anika along with her.

"Cut the bullshit," She said with an eye roll, sitting right down on the couch in front of you. Anika plopped down next to her. "There's no way in hell you got together with Tara."

You grinned, sipping your beer and partially using it to block your expression. "No, we're together. I really like her."

Mindy scoffed. "You're a terrible liar." Your cheeks warmed and you tilted your head to the side.

"We have to separate you two like warring chihuahuas every time we hang out together," Anika said. She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes in a study of your face. "You're not confessing your undying love."

"I did."

"You didn't!" Mindy said, and she threw up her arms.

"I did."

"You didn't," Anika snorted.

"I...," you looked at them both, "...are you guys going to snitch?"

"Snitch to who?" asked Mindy. Now they were both leaned in, like eager children around a campfire. You swallowed.

"Sam." Mindy blinked. Then she sat back.

"What the hell did Tara get you involved in?" she asked. As much as Sam was part of your group, it was known not to fuck with her, and that's exactly what Tara was making you do.

You frowned. If anyone was going to ruin the plan, it probably wouldn't be Mindy or Anika. "You can't tell Chad, but we're not actually together."

Anika raised her eyebrows and shot Mindy a glance. "That didn't take a lot of brain power to figure out." You shrugged.

"Well, we fooled Sam. Tara needs a fake partner so she can go to parties and see people and stuff. And, well, you know how Sam is about that stuff."

Mindy crossed her arms. "And you said sure?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I didn't really see why not. Plus, she was being super annoying about it. Showed up at my house. She was begging, almost."

"So, you what, took pity?" Anika asked, giving you a look. You rolled your eyes.

"Trust me, it's not because it's fun. She's way too annoying and she'd probably say the same thing about me."

Mindy frowned, looking out the doorway and into the booming party. "Chad wouldn't like it."

You sent her a worried look. "Please please please, don't tell Chad. I know he's upset by the whole thing, but Sam would literally kill me if she knew I was helping Tara run around town."

"I don't know...," she said. "I know Tara wants freedom, but this is kind of bullshit, (Y/n)."

"It won't be for long. She just wants to meet someone. When she does, it's over. Life goes back to normal."

"Do you guys have a target in mind, or something?" Anika asked, a bit amused.

"Not even a little a bit. It’s like, her second party ever,” you shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s really dead set on a person yet.”

“Well… she better figure it out soon.”

“Mhm.” You looked out the same glass door and into the booming party outside. Through the jumping crowd, you could see in the distance Tara, who was dancing with her eyes shut and a smile spread wide across her cheeks. She looked happy like that.

You took a swig of your beer.

===+++===

The boom of a fist on your door shook the thin walls of your apartment, and you jolted awake to hear three more hit the wood.

“OPEN UP (Y/N), NOW!”

Immediately, a headache washed over you and you groaned. You tried to smush your head into the pillow to make it go away but there were the banging fists again, and you sat up, letting your legs dangle off the edge.

“OPEN THE FUCK UP,” came the voice again, and you blinked. Oh shit. You knew that voice. You clambered to your feet and stumbled out your bedroom and down the hall in a dusty pair of shorts and shirt. “I’M NOT KIDDING! OPEN THE—”

You pulled the door open like a deer in headlights, seeing Sam seethe on the other side with her fist raised. Nostrils flared, forehead creased, eyes narrowed. She looked about ready to rip your head off.

“You,” she said, spitting the word. You flinched. “Where the fuck is Tara?!”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Had she not gone home the night before?? Things felt a little bit fuzzy still. You remembered grabbing another beer from Ethan and flopping down in an armchair, then another and another, and then maybe wandering home while the sun started to rise. Had you seriously lost track of the attempted murder victim on her first night out???

You blinked, already aware that your cheeks were a dusty pink. "I, uh... she, um..."

Her hands went to her hips, glaring at you expectantly. "Well?! Where the hell is my sister?!" When you were still staring like an idiot, she threw up her arms. "I fucking knew I shouldn't have trusted you with her! This is what I get"

You stared, feeling a lie (though probably a clunky one) come to your brain. "I think her phone must've died, but she just left."

Sam's eyebrows rose, but you weren't sure if it was in disbelief or even more rage. "What do you mean?"

"We, um," your eyes went to the floor, feeling her glare laser itself into you as you spoke. "We got super drunk last night at the party, and I brought her back here and we both fell asleep," you looked back up to see her giving your pyjamas a once over, nose wrinkled. You flushed. "No! No— we didn't do that. We just fell asleep."

Sam looked at you for a moment, then crossed her arms. "I waited all night for her, you know," she said.

You nodded. "I know. I'm so sorry, it won't happen again."

"It won't." Sam repeated. "When I don't hear from her for a whole night, you know what I assume happened, right? You know how that feels?"

You swallowed. "I do."

She sighed. "I'm really trying here. I know she doesn't want me worrying about her, and I know she wants freedom. So I'm trying, (Y/n). Don't make me regret it."

"I won't, Sam." It felt like a giant wedge in your throat, and you tried to smile at her but she continued to frown, and she turned around and walked off. The moment she was gone, you spun around and slammed the door. You dashed through your apartment, grabbing your phone off your nightstand and quickly pulling up her contact.

Little Shit (do not pick up). You pressed the button and put it up to your ear, wandering over to the nearby curtain and lifting it to look out onto the city. "Come on, come on," you pleaded aloud. "Fucking pick up, asshole."

After the third ring and a good prayer to god even though you weren't especially religious, it stopped ringing and you could hear her grumbling.

"Tara??" you rushed. "Tara, where are you?"

"Mmm," she groaned, "the hell do you want so early?"

You scoffed. "Tara it's almost noon." There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"What?"

"Uh huh," you grunted. "Your sister just almost ripped my door off it's fucking hinges because she doesn't know where you are. And you know what, neither do I!" There was some shuffling from her end, and then what sounded like running footsteps.

"I went home with this girl last night, I just woke up," she rushed. "Sam is going to kill me!"

"She almost killed me!" You almost yelled into the phone. Now that the worry had subsided you were left with anger. "She almost killed me because you wandered off and didn't go home."

"It's not like I meant to fall asleep," she argued back, and you could hear some talking in the background in faint voices. "I must've slept through my alarm— wait, what did you tell Sam?"

"That your phone died, and you were on your way home."

"WHAT?! (Y/n), this girl's apartment is at least fifteen to twenty minutes away," Tara said into the phone.

"Well it's not like I knew that, now is it?" you shot back, scratching your arm, "considering I didn't know if you were even alive until you picked up."

"God, not you too. I'm fine, drama queen."

"Drama queen?"

"Yeah, drama queen," Tara repeated, and more noises flooded in. It sounded as if she was in the city now, walking, "you sound just like Sam. I picked you because I thought you knew I didn't need a babysitter."

"That's not being babysat, Tara. That's making sure you're not dead," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I'm not."

"Good."

"Great."

"Fine!" you shot back.

"Awesome."

You sighed into the speaker. "Pick up some flowers or something on your way back. Claim that's why you're late."

"Good idea, actually," Tara hummed.

"I know." And you hung up.

===+++===

You found yourself at an identical party the very next Friday night too, and the Friday after that, and after that too. The walls were just as stained. It smelled just as full of mold. This one didn't have a front room for you to barricade in, so you sat at the bar top instead, in the kitchen with your chin rested on the cool granite.

It had taken a whole night to get rid of the hangover from a few weeks before, and in doing so you had remembered why it was exactly that you didn't find these things too fun, anyways. You hadn't gotten anywhere near as drunk since. Mindy and Anika had decided on date night instead, and Chad and Ethan were off to watch a movie that originally you would've been invited to, had it not been for Tara.

It was painful, that Chad was ducking you. The irony wasn't lost, that the more time you spent with your fake girlfriend at parties and outings like a couple, the closer you got to actually repairing your relationship with him. You still would've rather gone to the movie, though.

You could actually see Tara, from where you sat. Through the bar window in the kitchen, she was on the dance floor, moving along with the rhythm of hard EDM as best she could. It was a giant mob of people, all clumped up and hopping around in excitement, and you didn't especially want to be out there.

As you watched, a guy came up behind Tara, tapping her on the shoulder and smiling down at her. You thought nothing of it, until you got a longer look at the guy's face. In the revolving, multicoloured lights that hung over the crowd, you recognised him in an instant, standing straight up and weaving your way through the party.

"You having fun, Carpenter?" He asked, with a douche-y smirk on his face as he said it. You rolled your eyes, coming up behind Tara and standing right behind her.

"I—" but you interrupted her.

"She is, Frankie," you shot, staring at him and crossing your arms. Tara whipped around to you with a glare.

"(Y/n), go away," she whispered loudly. But you stood your ground.

"Tara, literally anyone but him. I mean, anyone—"

"That's not your decision."

"Sam tased him in the balls last time. I mean, come on, you have to know he's a douche."

Frankie scoffed. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"(Y/n) is just a—"

"—We're dating," you interrupted again. "So fuck off."

"No, we aren't," Tara shook her head. "Not really."

"Yes, we are," you nodded at Frankie. "Please leave. She's not sleeping with you tonight." He frowned, but started to walk off.

"That's not your decision, asshole!" Tara scowled and she reached out an arm to stop him. "Frankie, stay. You know what, I wasn't going to, but I will now."

"Frankie, leave. I mean it, you creep." You turned to her and glared. "Tara, listen to me, you—"

"No! Frankie, stay. Maybe I need the company," she shot back, narrowing her eyes. Frankie looked between you both, as did a few other people in the room who were starting to notice.

"They literally call him Date-Rape-Frankie, Tara. There's no way in hell you're sleeping with Date-Rape-Frankie. Frankie, leave."

"Frankie, no, stay. Well, what if I want to?"

"Then you're being stupid."

"Bold choice of words coming from you! You're not my mother."

"I'm not trying to be your mom, Tara. I'm using basic common sense. That guy is a creep and a perv," you pointed to him.

"Hey!" Frankie interjected, raising a hand to your shoulder.

"Fuck off!" you and Tara said in unison, dismissing him to glare right at each other.

"Well maybe I deserve the freedom to sleep with weirdos and whoever I want! I mean, who are you, the fucking sex-Nazi?"

"I don't have a problem with literally anyone else, Tara, but he's a weirdo!"

"Well then let me make that call! I'm not five. You don't need to baby me, I know he's a weirdo!" People were definitely staring now. You were both shouting, but a lot of it was drowned out by the EDM. It didn't stop others watching you point in each others faces and scowl.

"It's not babying you, Tara! It's basic caring! You have no clue about this shit, this is like your fourth party ever!"

"I've managed this far, haven't I?!"

"What, you want a cookie?!"

"Yeah, maybe I fucking do! I'm an adult, asshole! Let me do adult shit!"

"Wow, it's so adult and mature of you, to sleep with creeps and get hungover every Friday. How adult."

"Well, maybe it's not, but who gives a shit! I'm having fun for once! I'm being free without a fucking serial killer on my ass! I know you can't relate, but Christ, take the stick out from your ass!"

"Real nice," you shook your head. "This is what I get for helping you. Of fucking course." Before she could reply, you turned around and headed out the sliding glass door, into the fenced-in backyard. There was a pool back there, and you collapsed into a wrought iron pool chair, right near the edge.

People watched you warily, as you sat out there, but within minutes, the party was resumed. Even from outside, you could hear the thumping bass shake the windows gently as the glass moved in the panes.

There was a faint scent of petrichor from the small patch of grass out there, and the sky rumbled in the distance. It was peaceful out there, with small hanging fairy lights and the pool in front of you. You propped your legs up on the glass table and tried not to scream.

This was exactly what you should've expected, from Tara. Of course she would be selfish. Of course she would be brash. A part of you wasn't surprised. Disappointed, sure. But not surprised. You just sat there and tried to cool your breathing, watching the city lights in front of you.

You must've sat like that for an hour or two, just watching the city. It didn't feel like long enough. You might've even felt at peace, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Um...excuse me?" You craned your neck around, looking up in your chair to see a concerned guy looking down at you.

"Are you (Y/n)?" He asked, awkwardly scratching his neck. You nodded, confused.

"Uh, yeah? Do we know each other?"

"No! No, I was asked by Tara, I think was her name? She wanted me to get you. She's your girlfriend, right?"

The worry came back, and you stood up. "Why, what happened? Where is she?" Sam was really going to kill you.

"She's in the guest bathroom, I think she's sick."

===+++===

"Tara?"

"(Y/n)?" you heard a very uneasy voice on the other end.

"Can I come in?" you asked, and when there was no response, you let yourself inside. She was on the other end of the massive bathroom, leaned up against the bathtub with her head close to the toilet bowl.

Tara looked absolutely green, with her hair sweatily stuck to her forehead and eyes barely open. "Christ Tara, how much did you have to drink?" you asked in worry, coming to stand over her.

"Oh, just—" she gagged like she was about to puke and you bent down to grab her and tug her towards the toilet bowl. You spun back to the guy in the doorway, who stared at you both with wide eyes.

"Can you get me some crackers and Gatorade?" you asked him, sending a hopeful glance. He nodded and closed the door, and you turned back to Tara, who was bent over the toilet bowl.

You moved her gently and lifted the toilet seat up. "Are you okay?" you asked with a frown. You felt like an idiot the moment it left your mouth.

She raised her eyebrows. "Do I look okay?" Tara mumbled.

"Well, no."

"Thass' good," she slurred. "I had too many," she hiccupped. You nodded.

"I'd say so. How much did you have Tara?"

She giggled. "This many." She held up four fingers with a giant, toothy grin and slumped with her arms encircling the toilet bowl.

"Since when?" you blinked.

"Since you got allllllllll pissy!" You sighed, hands going to her hair and pulling it back. She wrinkled her nose at you. "Why are you touching my hairrrrr?!"

"So you don't vomit all on it, idiot," you replied, shaking your head. Tara huffed.

"I'mnuh gonnuh puke."

And then Tara puked. Everywhere.

===+++===

You both sat there, that way, for about ten minutes. Tara vomited three times, during that span, and when she was done, you handed her the crackers and Gatorade and told her to do her worst.

She downed them in another fifteen minutes, sitting in the bathtub and eating while you sat leaned up against the bathroom wall, across from her, just in silence. The sounds of the party seemed to have died a little bit as the night droned on, and by now people would be wandering home or to someone else’s place.

While you waited, you shot Sam a text, letting her know you’d bring Tara home and that she was okay. Sam didn’t reply but she saw the message, and you figured that was good enough. When you checked the weather app, Tara finally spoke, coming to her senses a bit with more food in her system.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, staring down at the package for the crackers in her hand. “Thanks.”

You shrugged, staring at the toilet in front of you. It probably reeked in there, but at this point you were nose blind. “For what?” You meant for that to be it, just a small little acknowledgment, but Tara shook her head.

“Thank you for that. For being here.”

She stared right at you when she said it, and you knew she meant it with conviction. You nodded. “I know we don’t always get along, but I had your back, back there.”

“You have my back?” she asked, smiling a little and grabbing her Gatorade from the edge of the tub.

“I agreed to help you, didn’t I?”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. “You did, yeah.” Tara looked over at you, then tilted her head to the side. “I still don’t get why, though.”

“You were honest, for once.” It came from a surprising place, and you said it before you entirely knew you were speaking. You didn’t completely know what it meant either, until after you said it, but the words passed between you almost like a new understanding.

A few moments of silence came and went, before she spoke again. “I walk silently places at night in case I hear I’m being followed. By Ghostface. Same thing as when I’m home alone. I don’t do it as much anymore, but I still do it sometimes. Don’t tell Sam, please please please. She’ll make me go to therapy.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding gently. You leaned your head back up against the wall, craning it up to look at the ceiling.

“Why are you being nice to me?” She asked. You laughed, tracing the popcorn pattern of the roof with your eyes.

“I’m not the devil, Tara.”

“…Neither am I.”

“I know,” you said, and you reached your arm out for a cracker. She gave you one and you crunched down on it, while an especially large bass hit came from the speakers outside. “God, this music fucking sucks,” you groaned.

Tara nodded. “It’s really hard to dance to.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “it didn’t seem like you were struggling earlier.”

Tara frowned, then tilted her head in curiosity. “What’s your favourite song?”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” she said.

“Okay… you’re going to laugh, though.”

“Am I?” she grinned. You nodded.

“Do you know that one song, The Promise, by When In Rome? It’s from the 80s, it’s super cheesy?”

She stared off for a moment, in thought, then shook her head. “Don’t think so, how’s it go?”

You rolled your eyes, but began to quietly sing it in a tone that wavered in between spoken word and humming. It was terrible and you were tone deaf, but it was the song. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a straaanger. You know in the end,” your voice broke a little at the low note, and Tara giggled but you continued, “I’ll always be thereee.”

“Wow.”

“Mhm. And then it skips a little bit and the chorus goes, ‘I’m sorry but I’m just thinking of the right words to say, I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to beee.’”

She cut you off with her hand, laughing hysterically. You felt your cheeks flushed, and in any other time you would’ve been annoyed with her laughing at you. But this didn’t feel mean. You just smiled right back.

“That was good, actually,” she managed, between small laughs. “Why is it your favourite?”

“Um,” you shrugged, “my brother used to sing it to me, years ago when I was scared.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Tara said, leaning her head on the tile wall of the tub.

“I have six.”

She blinked, then sat up straight. “Since when?!”

“Always, Carpenter,” you shrugged. “Everyone knows.”

“Everyone who?”

“Chad, Mindy, Anika. Even Quinn.”

“I didn't know. How come you never talk about them?”

”I just don’t,” you frowned. Tonight was definitely not the night to get into that. Instead, you pivoted topics. “Why, what’s your favourite song? I showed you mine, now you’ve got to show me yours.”

“I’m ninety nine percent sure that’s not how that saying is used,” she laughed, “but fine. When I was crying as a baby, my mom sung me this song, called Baby, I Love You by The Ronettes.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

Tara shook her head. “Probably not, but they’re the same group that does that one song Be My Baby?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Apparently my mom had Baby, I Love You playing in the hospital, when I was born and everything. It’s kind of comforting. When I miss her, I play it.”

“How often is that?”

She shrugged. “More than you’d think, considering she’s a giant asshole.”

"That's always how it is."

"Mhm... and just so you know, I know Frankie was a creep. I wasn't actually going to do anything with him. Just flirt. Have fun."

"I know. I wasn't trying to babysit you, I just wanted to warn you. That creep has so many stories."

"I know. I just don't like being told what to do, sometimes. It's a whole thing. I'm working on it, seriously."

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything at all. You both sat in what you assumed was a prolonged silence, until you looked down finally to see Tara’s eyelids falling heavy.

You stood up with a sigh. “You should go home.” There was no reply, and you checked out the small window in the bathroom to still see it was pitch black out. It was definitely too late to send her home this sleepy, and after the incident a few weeks ago, there was no way Sam would let her stay at yours. “Tara,” you nudged her.

She groaned, rolling over in the tub and snuggling up. You rolled your eyes, then looked out the window one more time with an annoyed grumble.

===+++===

The longer you had to walk with her on your back, the more you regretted this. Her arms were wrapped around your neck, face pressed onto the back of your shoulder and knees held up by your hands. You couldn’t see her, but you knew her eyes were shut and she was super close to being actually asleep.

"We make a good team, you know," she mumbled into your shoulder. You knew she was being funny, but you were too tired to laugh as you trudged up the hill. Carrying a drunk girl home was not at all what you had anticipated of the night, and though it had been shitty at the beginning and shitty until almost the very end, you could definitely say it wasn't shitty right then.

When you arrived at her apartment complex, Tara was soundly asleep and Sam came out to meet you both, taking her sister from you and stumbling with her towards the door. In the distance, right over another hill, the sky was already beginning to lighten up a bit.

Right as both Carpenters reached the door, Tara stopped for a moment to turn back to you with a smile. "Thanks, babe," she said with a cheeky grin that was only half awake. You smiled back.

"You too, babe."

Sam rolled her eyes, pulling Tara through the door. It was a pleasant night, still with the same faint scent of rain oncoming. In your weird, newfound peace as you walked home yourself, you didn't see that Quinn was watching you from the upstairs window.

===+++===

so that was fun lmao. anyways there will be a part 3 but you and tara are kind of maybe friends now? now it's time for feelings 😈

[disregardandfelicity]

i was lucky enough to attend the premiere on tuesday (as the +1 of a contest winner); in case this is of interest (and, indulgently, to preserve it for my own memory), here are some tidbits from my night:

for the screening, the cast had assigned seats (jacob and delainey in the same row, sam behind jacob, eric behind sam, assad on the other side of the aisle, the same side as rolin, hannah, and mark johnson). sam and jacob were off to the side chatting during intros and never sat in theirs

delainey got applause from the audience upon her first on screen appearance, the only cast member to get one

daniel had a fair few interview beats which got laughs from the audience

afterwards, an actor from the venue came up and gave a little speech as though he was from a sister coven to the TdV in paris. then we were dismissed to the party, which was upstairs

initially post party, assad and luke were in the front larger room of the reception - sam and jacob were, i believe, already gathered in a far back corner in the second room, along with some other people. eric didn't stay for the party

the venue had a couple little 'shows' - at one point the whole cast and some other guests went up several flights of stairs to a room (delainey commented on how many flights there were as we climbed) where a version of the no pain scene from the books was reenacted by venue actors

kalyne coleman was there, i saw her chatting with jacob. i let her cut in front of me for drinks as an excuse to talk to her. there's a nod to grace in the episode and it sounded like that was a surprise to her (a pleasant one!)

my conversations with the cast were deeply unsubstantive, i was too pleased to be there to come up with anything too clever or probing to say tbh

when i spoke to jacob, i started by saying "sorry" (just reflexively) and he immediately, very warmly, was like what are you apologizing for! when i said how excited i was for the season and he said something like 'i hope it doesn't disappoint' (which i did think was surprisingly pessimistic for a premiere party lol but having seen the quote about hoping ppl still like louis by the end, maybe he is actually a tad concerned! i did obviously say i didn't think it would)

sam was the best at these meetings because he very naturally asks questions back. i told him i loved him in the newsreader as well, and he asked whether i was pirating it (i'm not exactly, i had a vpn). then we all walked off to do that no pain scene experience

after the no pain scene, we exited down some stairs which opened to the second smaller room. assad was behind me so i asked him who did it better (these actors or the show), and we joked about that. he then introduced himself to me, and when i couldn't help noting that i did in fact know who he was, he said he would never want to assume. sam came up to us and assad introduced him to me, and i got the joy of saying we'd met!

(SKIP this bullet if you don't want newsreader vibes-based spoilers) sam asked me what i liked better, iwtv or the newsreader. i said iwtv but that newsreader was great and season 2 was so sad! he said season 3 is the last of the series, and told me it's dark and bleak, worse than season 2, maybe only a second of peace/happiness at the end. so. there's that to look forward to....

he also told me about the crossover staffing between shows (emma and the DOP). i tried to ask if he was responsible for any of that but dont think i articulated it well but he said 'you want to work with the people you like'

my delainey convo was brief, i turned while we were walking up to the no pain thing and realized she was next to me, so just took the opportunity to let her know i was excited about her in next season

around 10-ish, sam and jacob left to (i believe?) go to levan's friends bar, along with hannah and others i didn't recognize. assad and luke were around for another 30-40 minutes after that, then the whole thing ended at 11. i didn't notice when or with who delainey left

delainey, as far as i noticed, did the least mingling; assad and luke did the most. generally speaking (and as expected) sam and jacob hung around together or in the same spaces. also perhaps as expected, assad and luke were hanging around together for lots of the night. at the end of the night, when it felt less burdensome to ask, i got a pic with those two. they were very cool about it, luke was sweet, we'd spoken earlier, he stuck out his tongue for one of the shots and he found me again later to chat

that photocall video i took (above) was after the 'no pain' experience.

[icypenguin]

ೃ࿔. me too, please! 🐾*:･

hiii hihi guess i’m back again and it tidnd’t took my months :p anywayy this one was actually a request from my wattpad! it’s been months and i finally answered huhuu T-T i’m really sorry for those who requested many things already but haven’t got it answered.. i promise i’ll make it up :D!

cw: pet names (darling, love, puppy), scratching, rubbing, petting

gorou

it was a pleasant surprise to find your boyfriend coming home with a small, white, fluffy, curling and asleep kitten on his shoulder. though. the view seems to cheer you up as a small chuckle escaped your lips when the edge of your lips curled up.

“aww, ‘rou, i didn’t think you’d replace me..” you faked a disappointed tone, to tease around with your boyfriend who tends to get worried at the smallest thing.

“wha- that- no! t-that’s not what i-“ his face turned into a bit of a shock as well as his ears drooping. he looked at the sleeping cat balancing on his shoulder as inly made a straight line on his mouth.

the nervousness and victory of teasing your boyfriend seems to be a succeed when a laughter came erupting from your mouth. “you know i was just jokinggg, you’re always loyal to me, and i trust you”

“hmph, ofcouse! leaving you would be my last choice anyway..” he put his hands on his hips and shot a confident look. you came close to him and raised your hand up as if the first step of an action. you raised it close to him and he knew what you were going to do: pet him. and so, he leaned over to your hand just for it to slip past and instead pet the sleeping baby cat right besides his face.

“oh-“ noticing the misunderstanding, the tips of his ears went red as well as his cheek. meanwhile you, also noticing this demeanor, couldn’t help but to break a laughter quietly, trying not to disturb the sleeping kitten.

“awwh sorry, ‘rou. didn’t think my puppy would want to get an ear rub too” you teased before finally placing your hand on his head, especially rubbing the space close to his ears.

he tried his best not to purr; not to embarrass his self more. though, he couldn’t help but to give up in your touch and to snuggle with it.

“guess you’re no different to a cat, hm..” you smiled softly, seeing your boyfriend finally winding up from the rough day with full training sessions.

“h-heyy! stop that right now.. for the last time, i’m not your pet!” he huffed in embarrassment and tried to deny how good it is to have your ears scratched. unfortunately for him, his body language said otherwise.

and so, seems like you have 2 furry babies to take care of.

tighnari

he’s been inside his research room for quite a long time, so you decided to give him some Candied Ajilenakh Nut for a quick but high quality break. you know that it’s been a pretty tiring day for him, he discovered a new species of an animal and thought that i’d be nice to study plus take care of it at the same time. and you know he’s been doing a good work; too good for his body.

you knocked to signal him, “darling, i brought you something!”.

without a second later, he opened the door with a happy but tired expression plastered on his face.

“ah, love. didn’t think you’d come by..” he said hazily as he guided you inside.

“darling, you know it’s my job to take care of you, especially when you’ve been working on this.. research thing” you pulled the candied ajilenakh nuts out and served some for him.

“take some rest, honey, you’re being too tired” you shot him a worried look as your eyes got softer, trying to plead him into taking atleast a break.

“ah- you didn’t have to, love… but thankyou, you really do know what i needed” he shot you a grateful smile before munching on those candied ajilenakh nuts and looking towards the incubator which held the enigma animal securely.

“my little pet here.. it’s doing good.” he guided you to follow him to show you what he’s been taking care of for days. just by looking at it, you could already tell that it’s fur was as fluffy and soft as clouds and the patterns made it more extraordinary.

“ah-! what a cutie!” you squealed lightly in awe. he transferred the animal in his palms carefully and brought it close to him, as if cuddling it.

“it’s supposedly 1 month old..” he looked at it with care and love.

“it looks healthy and beautiful, i’m so proud of you.. you’ve been taking good care of it” your tone was loving and caring. you raised your hand in a motion as if to pet something, and tighnari leaned into your hand before you pet the animal. noticing the object that you were looking towards to, he blushed out of embarrassment and acted like nothing happened. though, clearly you already noticed.

“awwh, i suppose my baby also needs some treatment, hm?” you chuckled softly before petting his head followed by a small and comforting scratch.

“w-well i-“ he sighed before continuing, “okay.. maybe i do need your affection” he gave up into your touch and purred softly.

in the end of the day. your prizing scratch is what makes the research worth it.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. thankyou for supporting! ୨♡୧

[theemmtropy]

Gale X Tav: Hand massage short fic

Second person POV, fluff, headcanon that this man talks like he's read the Player's Handbook

Gale's hands get so cramped and sore from all the casting he does, especially now that he's away from his tower and all the amenities there. Ordinarily, he uses lotions to keep his hands loose, but on the road, ingredients are limited.

That's why you make a special effort to collect recipes for potions and salves from anywhere you travel; eventually, you find one that uses ingredients you have. The scent of this salve is pleasant, floral, invigorating, and after testing it on your own skin to make sure it's safe, you approach Gale with it.

"I do enjoy our conversations," he greets you, warmly. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually, I'm here for what I can do for you," you say, holding up the salve that you've put into a small jar. "This should help ease the muscles in your hands."

A smile breaks across his face. "Why that is incredibly thoughtful, and pragmatic! But tell me, how is it that you've gleaned my particular issues with regards to somatic components?"

You try to keep a straight face as you say, "Well you're not exactly... subtle... when it comes to pain."

He grimaces, likely remembering all the times his knees have cracked loud enough for the adventuring party to hear. "Well, I sincerely thank you for this, it truly means a lot."

"Of course," you say, then hesitate, before adding, "did- do you want me to- um, apply it for you?"

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but then he quickly says, "If you'd like to. I mean, I'd like you to. That is, you don't have to, but if you have the time-"

"I do," you confirm, cutting him off to save you both some embarrassment. "Have a seat."

He sits, and you sit facing him. He holds out one of his hands, and you take a good amount of the salve and begin to work it into his skin.

As you apply pressure onto the muscles, you hear his breath catch, then release. You hope that the rhythmic pressure, the relaxing pull on his fingers, is working.

"Other hand," you instruct, once you feel that you've spent enough time on the first one. He shifts closer, enough so that your knees touch, and holds out his other hand.

You keep your eyes focused on massaging, but once you've finished, you look up with a "there we go", only to see Gale gazing at your face, cheeks flushed.

"Thank you. Thank you very much," he says softly, causing your own face to heat up.

"Of course," you murmur back. Then, after clearing your throat, you say a bit louder, "you're very welcome, of course."

At that moment, Astarion wanders by the tent. Catching sight of you two, he drawls, "Oh good, you've finally progressed to hand holding. I'll need to let Lae'zel know she owes me my ten gold."

With embarrassment, you realize that you've still got Gale's hand clasped in both of yours. You release him quickly, and catch a flash of disappointment in the wizard's face. "Sorry," you say quickly, scrambling to your feet. "I'll let you get back to what you were doing."

"Oh don't let me stop you," Astarion says, flashing his teeth in a charming smile. "I have another bet going with Shadowheart regarding you two doing... something else."

You blurt out, "Maybe mind your own business?" at the same time as Gale says, "What we do does not concern you."

You stare at him, and he gets to his feet as well, stammering, "Or what we don't do, of course."

Astarion sighs loudly, wandering off as you take a deep breath and say, "Well I hope the salve works. You want to keep the jar with you?"

Gale hesitates, then says, "Actually, would you hold onto it? You... applied it so expertly, I'm afraid I would never be able to do it as well as you. I'd like to ask your help with it in the future."

You smile, nodding. "Of course! I'm glad to help whenever I can."

[hyatoro]

[Angst,maybe doft ending if u want to] Minsu with a Reader that's being forced into a marriage,reader doesn't like the idea of being with Minsu too much,but would rather be with him than with a random spoiled omega

-A.M anon!!

Hwang Minsu

Okay so I can’t see this being an arranged marriage through your parents since he and his family never really had much to offer so here’s how it’s twisted to fit a similar narrative. 

He’s an orphan so he didn’t really have people to push him into an arranged marriage, but he put his name into one of those match making organizations like a lottery ticket kind of thing. Very little hope, but just a hint of ‘maybe maybe not’.  

Your parents had an omega lined up for you, but you’d already met them before and you find them unbearable. So they eventually give you an ultimatum and insist you marry somehow. 

So you put your own name into this match making service as a passive thing while you look for other possible matches on your own, but you get a call back sooner than you’d think. 

Your match is Hwang Minsu. They have a hard time selling him, since he’s a night shift convenience store worker with little else to his name. But your personal search is coming up short and wait a damn second. 

You know this guy. You go to the convenience store he works at like every week for a late night snack. 

You shoot a response to the organization and opt to just meet him directly at the store. 

When you pull out the email he pulls out his own in surprise. 

So you spend your time chatting him up and from this and all your previous interactions he seems good enough. Nothing like that sack of shit your parents wanted to pair you up with. 

After a few more visits you ask him straight up, would he want to just marry you. 

He’s shocked. You’re a little surprised with yourself too. 

Actually he’d been obsessed with you since that time you approached him with the email, gobsmacked that anyone would entertain the idea of being with him. 

But he’s hesitant, because he knows for a fact that you don’t know what his scent is since he’s used to wearing scent patches, along with the fact that his scent is fainter than most. 

So he says that. “I-I’d love to, but you just have to…” and he peels off the patch and bares his neck to you shyly, worried out of his mind that this is what loses him this chance. 

You lean in and take a whiff. It’s weak, which isn’t helped from being suppressed by the patch, but it’s pleasant. You give a non-committal nod as you lean back and relief floods his veins. 

The papers fly by in a whirlwind and there’s no real wedding. He’s a little disappointed but he’s overshadowed by him moving in with you. It’s like when a kid first enters a candy store, where they’re all amazed by everything and scared to touch even the walls. And then he takes to it like a fish to water. 

You treat him like a roommate, but he treats you like a proper spouse. He greets you when you come back and he learns to cook as best as he can. [See house husband post]

As weird as the dude is, you don’t mind too much since he cleans up after himself. Yes you know what he does with your stuff. As long as it hits the wash and is folded up before you need it then it doesn’t matter. 

At some point in the future you can warm up to him and stuff, but that’s how your strange relationship starts. 

[zriasstuff]

Tutoring lessons pt.2 - Blaise Zabini x reader

Blaise, against his will, has to be tutored. However, what seemed like a painful way to spend time at first, gets more pleasant over time. Perhaps even extremely delightful.

fluff but who knows what can happen in the future (here’s pt.1 too) Hopefully i am somewhat feeding the little amount of Blaise fans with this.

Blaise came to you with the biggest grin on his face, as if he just learned how to smile.

“Guess what?”, he asks, as he’s seating himself opposite of you like always during your tutoring sessions.

“You found a million hidden gold galleons?” Given how happy he looked, you wouldn’t even be surprised if that was the case. He looked so energetic too with his big doe eyes and fidgety body movements, that it automatically made you cheerful.

“No, I’m afraid my news is not quite as amazing as that, but nonetheless still pretty awesome”. He inches closer to take a seat next to you.

“Geez, what is it?”

“I got my very first Outstanding on an assignment!”, he finally reveals. He even proudly holds up his paper, shoving it in your face.

“Blaise!”

“I’m so proud of you!”, you exclaim at his achievement. You know he worked so hard to better himself. The past weeks have truly been a statement to what he is capable of, if he just tried.

“Me too.” Just when you thought his smile couldn’t get any bigger, he revealed more of his perfect pearly whites to you. You’ve noticed his ridiculously good looking face before. Seeing him happy for once instead of in an incredibly stressed state made all the difference too.

“So how should we celebrate?”, you ask him. Celebrating his achievement should be good for his long term self esteem. And if it serves you too by allowing you to spend more time with him then so be it.

Not that you’d ever admit it, but being associated with him made you cooler. Not just amongst the people in your year, but younger and older students too. It never hurts to be seen with him, or have him talk you up to his popular friends.

Of course your friendship wasn’t just to improve your image. It was nice to spend time with him. There’s a good amount of similarities, but also differences that made conversations interesting.

He fumbles with his sleeves for a second, drawing your attention to his arms. Perfectly muscular arms. He thinks for a second before he says,

“I don’t know, you decide how we should celebrate.”

“I think I…” Before you remember what you wanted to say, your eyes go from looking him in the eyes to his lips. You don’t know what it was today, that you kept getting distracted. Did he do something different today?

“Seems like you’re the one having a hard time focusing today”

“What? I’m not staring”

“What?”, he shoots you a confused look.

You felt the physical need to facepalm yourself at this moment. What exactly happened? Not that he would he judging you, you think.

Suddenly you thought back to all your tutoring sessions with him. Him, as in the heartthrob of so many girls. And you alone got the privilege to spend so much one on one time with him. It felt weirdly powerful. He must like you. Not just because of the grades and all, but personally too. Right?

“Wait, I forgot I actually have something to attend to”, he sighs. His gaze averts yours for the first time in minutes.

Why did you feel so disappointed at that?

“Well today is your day. Do what you like”. The tone with which you said that probably suggested you were hurt, which is crazy. He didn’t even do anything wrong.

“Some other time though”, he said pushing himself up from his chair at the same time. “See you, and thanks a bunch really. Couldn’t have done this with you.”

Is that all he thought of you then? Just the girl who tutors him. At this point you needed to pump the brakes. Everything is as it always is and was with Blaise. Yet interacting with him today seemed so much more like a challenge. He didn’t ditch you, you tell yourself. He likes you. But what if there was more? Could there be more? Did you actually want more?

…

Dumbass Theodore Nott, Blaise thinks to himself on his way back to his dormitory. Just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants and has to keep banging girls in their shared room, Draco wants to hold a roommates meeting. Why couldn’t he just do it in the bathrooms like everyone else. And Draco was a pain in the ass too. When it’s his girls, it’s fine. But god forbid anyone disturbs his peace.

He grinds his teeth together when thinking about his missed opportunity with you. He could’ve been with you tonight, but no. Those two assholes we’re ruining everything. It’s not like he could just dip. They wanted to come up with a fresh set of rules to ensure a peaceful cohabitation, and of course he has to throw his two cents in. Otherwise it’d be pimp city.

It was the evening already, but god forbid he could’ve spent an hour or two with his cute and smart tutor.

[hauntedministry]

I will ruin you.

Pairings: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!reader

Word count: Approx 4.5K

Summary: After a long-term relationship ended badly, you decided it was best to return home, surrounded by people you knew, and grew up with. It had been years since you’d seen Joel and had always had eyes for him but knew never to act upon it.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! SMUT MINORS DNI!! Age gap, reader is in their 20s and Joel is in his 40s. Unprotected P in V sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy). Light degradation, ish. Brat taming kink also ish, let’s gooo (I mean dbf!Joel and brat taming go hand in hand). Spanking, risky sex, creampie, kind of stalker Joel but not really. If I can think of anymore or if you find more please let me know 🫶

A/N: This is my first fic I’ve posted so please let me know what you think! I’m also definitely not a writer this is mostly self indulgent 😅

The sun was setting as your dads pick up pulled into the driveway. You jumped out of the car and onto the pavement, there was a slight breeze that ran through your hair, it was a little chilly but still pleasant. Grabbing your bag from the front seat, you shut the door and let out a small sigh while you looked at the home where you grew up. It felt so nice to be back home. “Thanks for getting me, dad.” You say giving your dad a smile.

“Anytime sweetheart, it’s good to have you back home.” He pulled you in for a cuddle, and you felt instantly comforted. You’d missed him, barely being able to find the time to see him, let alone call. But now you had all the time in the world. He walked up to the front door and unlocked it. “After you, princess.” Your dad gestured while he stepped to the side.

“Hey come on now, enough of that, dad.” You rolled your eyes at the pet name while walking indoors. “I haven’t been ‘princess’ for years.”

“Ah well you’re still my little girl.” He replied and in response you groaned and shook your head with a smile. The last time you were able to visit home had been 3 years ago when your ex had actually given a damn about your life. You’d missed it so much. “I’ll let you get your things upstairs. Join me when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, I shouldn’t be too long!” You called down to your dad, already up the stairs and headed to your old room. You dropped your bag on the bed and sat down next to it, taking a moment to take in your surroundings. Most of things were as you left them, some decorations made you cringe as it was years since you had moved out. You then hopped off your bed and began to unpack a few items from your travel bag. The rest of your belongings were left at your exes. That was a task for another day you thought to yourself, now all you wanted was to relax.

Shortly after your dad had brought you two home, the front door was opened, then shut, then followed by a loud voice calling out to your dad. You’d investigate in a second but for now you just wanted a moment to yourself. After freshening yourself up you changed into a different outfit, a pair of charcoal mum jeans and a loose fitting baby pink sweater that you half tucked into your jeans.

You finally decided to show face and find out who the mystery visitor was. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. After reaching the bottom step you walked into the living room and stopped in your tracks. “Oh my god, Joel?” You called out to the tall man standing next to your dad, he was wearing a simple black t-shirt that clung to his broad chest and it was paired with navy blue jeans. You didn’t think you’d see him again after he moved away so this was such a wonderful surprise. Joel and your dad had been friends for a very long time, they always helped each other out when they needed it. You hated to admit it but you had always had the hots for him for so many years. Joel turned his head towards you and also had to do a double take.

“Who the fuck is this?” He then looked back to your dad and your smile dropped, you felt a twinge of disappointment. “Ahh I’m just kiddin’ doll, c’mere!” with a grin and a chuckle, he pulled you in for a hug, his big arms wrapped around you, you instantly melted into him. You could’ve stayed there forever, his scent was intoxicating. “God it’s been like five years ain’t that right?” Joel said with his arms still wrapped around you, his chin rested softly on your head.

“Yeah it’s been a while.” You both finally broke away from the hug and you took this as an opportunity to really look him over. Gosh he was still as gorgeous as you had remembered, if not more so. “Last time I came home was about three years back, but I know you’d moved away. I didn’t think I’d see you again, what brought you back?” You ask trying to discreetly check him out, you could’ve sworn his eyes were trailing you up and down but you swiftly pushed away the thought. Joel had aged like a fine wine, his hair was growing a few more greys, his face gained more wrinkles but it suited him so well.

“Somethin’ ‘bout this place, just feels like home. Besides I had nothin’ keepin’ me back there anyway.” He caught your gaze and you snapped out of your daydreaming. Last time you’d seen him, he was head over heels for some woman, that must’ve ended or he wouldn’t be back you thought to yourself.

“I’m with you there Joel. Well I’m glad you’re back. So what’s my second favourite old man been up to?” You ask giddy with excitement and nudge his arm with your elbow.

“Old man? All this time to grow up and she still ain’t learnt any manners?” He shook his head calling to your dad who was in the kitchen and laughed, a deep belly laugh. You swear it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Your dad came back from the kitchen with some beer bottles, you gladly accepted as did Joel.

“It comes from a place of love I swear!” You replied with a hand on your heart and a bat of your lashes. All three of you made your way to the couch and took your places, you sat on one end of the sofa, your dad next to you and Joel on the armchair just a little off to the side. He was sat with his legs wide, his large thighs constricted in his jeans. You had to remind yourself to look away.

“I know sugar, ‘m just teasin’.” He shoots you a wink from his side of the room. “Me an’ your dad found work together, like handy stuff fixin’ things an’ the like.” He took another swig from his bottle. Your dad got up to grab some snacks from the kitchen. “How comes you’re back home then? I thought you had found your Prince Charming?” He asked, looking you over for answers.

“Oh yeah, him.” You said, your tone lowering to an almost whisper as your thumb fiddled with the rim of your bottle.

“Oh my bad, doll. I-.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck as he saw your demeanour change.

“No no, it’s fine. He was just so immature and he’d fallen out of love a long time back.” You take a moment to gather yourself before continuing. “In the end I caught him with buried balls deep in some girl.” Joel was watching you recant the memory, he felt bad but in his mind he knew he was never right for you. “Just wish I could’ve seen it coming sooner.”

“I’m sorry, that must’ve hurt real bad.” You nodded slowly looking down at your bottle. “Stupid boy don’t know what he’s lost.” Joel continued, the compliment sending a warmth through your body, why did he have to be so goddamn charming.

“Still, that part of my life’s over, now it’s time to start a new chapter. And hey, could be worse at least I’ve got my two old boys with me.” You giggled, blushing slightly making contact with Joel’s beautiful deep brown eyes.

“Ah man come on now!” He retorted with a half grin.

The evening carried on filled with remembering memories and making stupid dad jokes. You’d missed just being able to be you around people you loved and cared about. And my god was it so good to see Joel again.

————————————————————————————

Joel came to your dads almost every morning to head off to their various call outs together. One morning, you had come downstairs in your pyjamas, a black cami top and short set with a lace trim. Before the two men set out you always offered to make them a cup of coffee. Joel always gave you a wink after thanking you, in return he gave you butterflies.

On another occasion, you’d just gotten out of the shower and you were sat on the side of your bed with a towel wrapped around you, putting moisturiser on your legs when Joel came upstairs to use the bathroom. He walked past your room and your eyes met his, he stilled for a moment and you could’ve sworn he lingered a bit longer than he should’ve, but he then swiftly continued his journey to the bathroom. You smiled to yourself and bit your lip. That same night all you could think about was the way he looked at you. Needless to say your hand found its way between your legs quicker than you’d like to admit.

The next evening, your friends had invited you out for a catch up and a sort of welcome home night out together. You dressed up in a tight fitting black dress mini that sat off the shoulders with long sleeves. Paired with black strappy heels and a little black shoulder bag. You felt good to be going out with friends not worrying about how to behave or looking at someone the wrong way, just free to do what you wanted.

At the bar your group had chosen, this guy kept looking you up and down from the bar, oh boy you knew where this was leading, and you were gonna follow suit. He was cute enough and recently there was only one thing on your mind, you knew you could never get what you wanted with Joel, so random guy from the bar would make do. You headed over to the bar and ordered a drink. “Make that two!” The guy called to the bartender. You both chatted away over the loud music, not really paying attention to what he was saying anyway. Eventually you both decided to cut the bullshit and head back to yours.

When the two of you got back to your dads, you fumbled around in your purse for your key and eventually opened the door. His hands were on you immediately, pulling down the neckline of your dress exposing your breasts. Images of Joel flashed in your mind wishing it was him who was fondling you. But this would do for now as a temporary fix.

You both stumbled into the living room, the room was tinted orange from the soft glow of the streetlight outside. You bumped into the arm of the sofa and pulled him down on top of you. You were giggling but you were trying to keep quiet and you were in also in a rush, it had been so long since someone had touched you. His hands grabbed at your tits and gave your nipples a pinch. “What about your dad?” He asked between breathy kisses.”

“Sleeping, shh.” Was all you replied. He nodded and was clearly also in a hurry as his shirt was whipped off his body in a flash and then he began to unbutton his pants, he started to pull up your dress when the front door swiftly opened and clicked shut and in walked Joel fucking Miller.

You’d never asked his name, and frankly you didn’t care, but the half naked guy shot up from the sofa, fear riddled his face. “Ah shit, look man I’m sorry. She asked me to come home, I promise we weren’t gonna do anything.” He kept rambling on, trying to make up some excuse. The shock of Joel catching you like this paralysed you momentarily, unable to think or move. Then you snapped out of it and quickly pulled up the top of your dress to cover yourself.

“Get out.” Was all Joel said, his voice was deep and gravely and his eyes not leaving yours once. The guy scrambled to dress himself again and get out of the house. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Hey no hang on, you can’t tell me what to do. He can stay.”you tried to stand up for yourself but the guy was already wriggling out of your grasp and headed to the door apologising profusely as he rushed past Joel. You thought Joel was gonna attack him as he was breathing heavily through his nose. Joel’s whole demeanour changed and you had never seen him like this, of course it was turning you on even more, how could it not? Joel’s eyes returned to you.

“Him, really?” He looked at you with disgust his words like venom spitting from his mouth. You clenched your thighs together. God why did this make you even hornier?

“Oh my god, Joel, you’re not my dad!” Your hands covered your face from embarrassment. “Why are you here anyway it’s like one in the morning?” You asked him trying to keep your voice down.

“Your dad left his tools at mine, he needs them early, and I couldn’t sleep.” He nonchalantly replied. Your eyes dropped down to see the toolbox in hand. Okay it was a bit of a weird alibi but you went along with it. “So I thought I’d be nice and drop ‘em off for him. But don’t go changin’ the subject, you’ve not even been home a week? And you’re already causin’ trouble. I knew you hadn’t changed.” He spat at you with disgust. “Lettin’ some silly little boy get his hands on you in your dads home, while he’s asleep? He’ll be so disappointed.” Joel’s head turned in the direction of the stairs.

“No, no, no no no.” You waved your hands out in-front of you. “Seriously though, you’re not gonna tell him?” You looked at him searching for an answer. “Joel what the fuck? I can do what I fucking want, if I want to fuck someone I can, it’s my body I’ll do what I want with it.”

“Shut your mouth!” He suddenly grabbed you by the throat and squeezed ever so slightly. Fear shook your body but you could feel your wetness pooling, you clenched your thighs again to feel some form of release. A moan was caught in your throat, and then it hit you. The realisation. Joel was jealous.

“You fucking pervert, Miller.” You said to him. Joel only squeezed tighter. “You just didn’t like the thought of me with another guy, that’s right isn’t it? You’re a jealous old man.” He pushed you back down onto the sofa by the throat. His hand felt so good wrapped around your neck, you were disappointed by the loss.

“I said shut your fucking mouth you little brat.” His body caged you in as he towered over you and pointed a thick finger to your face.

“Make me.” You bravely replied, with an eyebrow raised. You were almost challenging him.

“You really wanna try that shit with me?” Joel’s eyes had darkened and his voice deepened.

“I said, make, me”. You repeated and then a sharp slap stung you across the left side of your face then his large hand grabbed your jaw. Your eyes widened with shock, once more you found yourself squeezing your thighs together.

“Fuckin’ knew you were still a little brat. And the way you been walkin’ round wearin’ next to fuckin’ nothin’. You knew exactly what you were doin’ ain’t that right doll? Knew I couldn’t keep my eyes off ya.” Joel grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you back up, he then took your spot and brought you down over his knee. His large hands pulled up the skirt of your dress exposing your ass to him. He brought his hand down on your cheek a loud slap echoed through the living room. A sharp gasp broke through your mouth, his hand felt so good, the sting painful but pleasurable at the same time. You bit your lower lip hard stopping yourself from moaning and god forbid waking up your dad. Joel quietly chuckled. “You’re lovin’ this ain’t you doll? You filthy little thing.” You nodded and moved your hips trying to grind yourself against his thigh. “This what you wanted? How many times you thought about me? ‘Bout the things I could do to you? Huh?”

“T- too many.” You replied shamefully, your face and ass stinging from the contact. He continued spanking you making your behind tender and sore. He then yanked down your black panties exposing your aching pussy to him. You were ashamed just how much this was turning you on, you were dripping.

“Such a pretty little cunt. Dripping for me and I’ve not even touched you yet.” He then pressed two fingers against your folds to smear your juices around. A soft moan came from your mouth. “Mmm, could bury myself in you right now you’re so wet.”

“Joel, please I need you. I need you so bad.” You whined, aching for him. He then helped you up off his knee and turned you to face him. His hands made quick work of helping you out of your dress, when it reached the floor you stepped out and kicked it away.

“Look at you. So perfect.” Joel complimented as his hand palmed his growing bulge. “I will ruin you. Do you realise that, doll? Are you sure that’s want you want?” Joel questioned. “I’m tellin’ ya now sugar, if we do this I ain’t gonna be able to stop myself.” You could tell that he needed you just as much as you needed him. “All you’ll be able to think about is how my cock tears your pretty little pussy up.”

“Joel, please.” You begged, he looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “I’ve wanted you for so long you have no idea.” Under the soft orange street light you could see a devilish grin plastered across his face. “Always thought about what you could do to me.” You watched as Joel began undressing himself, he pulled down his jeans and his boxers. His thick cock sprung free and slapped against his stomach. You bit your lip as you watched it twitch. His hand gripped his length and he began pumping gently. Joel’s free hand was on you once more as he turned you around and guided your throbbing core over him.

“Now, sugar, you’re gonna fuck yourself on me, show me how bad you want this.” Your cheeks flushed red as you lifted a leg up onto the sofa for balance as you lowered yourself onto him. The stretch he provided was painful yet deliciously, you whimpered while you accommodated his thickness. “Ooh my, g- god.” He moaned as you finally took all of him inside. His hands found their way under your ass to help you as you started to bounce.

“Fuck, Joel.” You whined as you rode him. “You feel so big.” Soft sounds of skin slapping could be heard as Joel began to match your rhythm. He wrapped an arm around your waist and his hand found purchase on your breast, he squeezed firmly.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for me, doll.” Joel whispered his praise to you as you bounced on his cock. “If only your daddy knew what his precious little angel was doing right now.” As if on cue, your dads bedroom door opened and then his shuffling footsteps slowly followed him down the stairs. “Shh, shhh. Gotta keep quiet babygirl.” Joel whispered in your ear. “Can’t have your daddy finding you like this can we?” He pulled you down to lay beside him, hiding both of you behind the big cushions on the sofa. His left hand was clamped tight around your mouth and his right was working at your clit, rubbing perfect circles that sent waves of pleasure all over your body. Joel had you pressed tight against his chest, he was still stuffed balls deep inside you, slowly thrusting. Your eyes rolled back, as Joel’s lips attacked your neck, sucking on the same spot. Your dad had reached the bottom of the stairs and then switched on the light in the kitchen and the tap began to run.

Joel continued to fuck you painfully slowly. Each trust driving you insane with need, he’d pull his hips back so his tip was barely inside then he’d push all the way in. A squeal escaped from your mouth through Joel’s hand and your eyes widened. The tap stopped running. Your heart plummeted. Joel only continued rubbing your clit. You tried to swat his hand away, afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. He of course ignored you and the action only spurred him on more. The coil in your stomach began to tighten, you knew what was coming. Joel could feel it too, your walls fluttering around him, he rubbed your clit faster to get you closer. You were trapped under his hold, unable to do anything but give in to the pleasure he was providing. Then it hit you, your eyes shut tight as you came harder than you ever had before, his hand pressed harder into your face as more moans left your mouth. Your legs spasmed and trembled from the aftershock. Joel then removed his hand from your clit but he still continued thrusting, working you through your orgasm as your walls clenched around him, Joel huffed and bit down on your earlobe even he was trying to control himself.

Finally your dad left the kitchen, but he paused by the living room for what felt like forever, then he turned and ascended the staircase. As soon as the bedroom door clicked shut Joel pulled out and you almost cried at the loss. He shimmied out from behind you and got off the couch. He then wrapped his muscular arms around your legs and roughly pulled you towards the edge of the sofa and you let out a soft giggle. Joel then spread your legs apart allowing him better access, he positioned himself in front of your cunt and rubbed his painfully hard cock against for folds, slapping it against your clit occasionally. He then aligned his cock with your entrance and slammed his hips forward, knocking the air out of your lungs. He relentlessly rutted into you, his balls slapping against your ass. “Bet’cha that stupid little boyfriend of yours couldn’t make you feel this good?” Joel’s tone was lowered, but you could hear the need in his words, the need to please you.

You violently shook your head. “He never made me cum.” You admitted. “He couldn’t do it. I always faked it too.” You felt guilty but it was the truth, he just couldn’t get you over the edge. A low chuckle came from Joel at your admission.

“Fuckin’ knew he was useless.” Joel grinded into you, his tone almost angry, his eyes were trained on your cunt. You looked down too and watched as his thick length repeatedly disappeared inside you. That familiar feeling deep inside began to build once more. Joel moaned also losing himself in the pleasure. “Mmm, gonna cum for me again aren’t you?” You moaned a mhm as a pathetic response unable to form your words. You reached out to grab onto the back of the sofa with one hand, the other pressed flat against the cushions to steady yourself. Your mind was dizzy with lust and desire as the band snapped and tingles coursed through your body. “See that, fuck babygirl, you can’t fake that, how tight your pussy grips me. Feels like heaven.” He groaned at how your cunt contracted around him tightly.

You watched Joel’s face as he slowed his pace to pull back a little. He lowered his head slightly and then spit onto your pussy, his saliva trailed down from your clit to your entrance. Joel groaned as he then fucked into you hard and fast. “Oh- oh my go- god!” You moaned out in breathy rasps.

“Looked so pretty at the bar, sugar.” Joel mumbled. “The way you were dancin’, knew I had to have you.” He continued, your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised. “Then that pathetic idiot got his hands on you, I could barely watch, nearly gave him a black eye right there.” Joel fully gave into his need and continued slamming his cock into you again and again.

Joel’s thrusts then started becoming sloppy, his rhythm was lost as his climax was closing in. “Fuck, doll, don’t think I’m gonna last much longer.” He pants, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Seeing him losing his control would probably have been enough to make you cum again. You placed a hand on the side of his neck and pulled him down closer you, his hand gripped your waist and his other pressed against the back of the sofa. The angle was perfect, causing you to become even tighter for him. A deep moan erupted from Joel as he was nearing his release. He removed his hand that was on your waist and brought his thumb to your mouth. “Open.” He ordered, and you obeyed, opening your mouth to allow his thumb inside. You sucked on it and he pulled it out with a pop. He began rubbing your clit with his wet thumb, your legs quivered from the contact.

You could tell Joel was trying to stop himself from spilling into you, but he didn’t need to hold on much longer as your own climax finally broke through. You couldn’t hold it in anymore and a string of pornographic moans came from you. Joel couldn’t last any longer either, the way your cunt squeezed him after your orgasm sent him over the edge. He too moaned loudly as his hips jerked while he unloaded himself deep inside you. He fell forwards slightly and used his hand that was pressed against the sofa to balance himself, Joel stilled momentarily to catch his breath before quickly pulling out.

Joel’s eyes were locked on your face, he thought you looked perfect. “I could watch this forever.” His gaze then broke and trailed down to your puffy cunt, cum was leaking out of your hole. He reached his right hand and his finger traced up and down smearing his juices all over. “You look so pretty like this, all fucked out an’ silly, and it’s all for me.”

You were still comprehending what had just happened when Joel bent down and placed a soft kiss to your temple. “You did so good for me, doll.” He praised, then he grabbed his pants and dressed himself. He shot you a wink and left you on the sofa dripping and fucked out of your mind. The front door quietly clicked shut and you heard the soft hum of his engine fade away.

Thank you for reading! 🖤

[blackandwhlteaesthetlc]

Pleasing Scent Samples

Hello, friends! I ordered the Big Lip balm from Pleasing and with it came a fun surprise.

I already gave my initial impressions to @twopoppies as soon as I opened the package. It’s been a couple hours or so now so the scents have dried down on my skin and I can take a second smell to let you know my thoughts.

Full disclosure, I don’t think I have a very sophisticated nose 😂 But I’ll try my best to describe as accurately as possible. That said, I’m sure I’ll miss the actual notes and ingredients so consider this the most unprofessional review you could get from someone that just really loves perfumes and doesn’t mind being totally honest for better or for worse.

RIVULETS

Pepper, pine, and powder with floral come through. It reminds me so much of Gucci Memoire but slightly lighter. These are the notes from Fragrantica and I swear Rivulets is very much this but slightly cooler.

It also reminds me of Diptyque’s Figuier scent too. Overall very woody and clean!

Unfortunately it just won’t stay on my skin. I tried it on my wrist and the back of my arm but it only lasts about 10mins or so and then vanishes. ☹️ I really do love it (I was also a fan of Memoire) but if I took the risk of buying it, I know I’d have to put some Vaseline or something else on first to hopefully help the scent last longer.

Bright, Hot

Delicious! Cinnamon, Vanilla, Fruity! It reminds me of bourbon with some sweet tanginess. Or maybe Peach Schnapps! Like it has the spiciness from alcohol but I swear it makes my mouth water like after biting into a ripe peach. This is what I wanted Tom Ford’s Bitter Peach to smell like but Ford’s is just too musky and overpowering for me. I’ll 100% be purchasing Bright, Hot though! It’s so much more pleasant and light. The fruity notes come through with this more vs the musk. And it STAYED on my skin. I’m so obsessed with it, I want it in as a perfume and candle (Harold, please 🙏🏽).

Here are the notes from Bitter Peach to get an idea of what I mean:

Closeness

Oh, she’s SEXY 😮‍💨

I told @twopoppies it smells like spice, pink fruity bubblegum and a pink bubble bath! I also get rose. Pink, pink, pink. They chose the sample card well.

This one is the heaviest scent, almost like oud with it’s dark muskiness. But that sweet floral scent just makes it completely intoxicating. I couldn’t stop smelling myself after putting it on, it also had the strongest lasting power on my skin.

If this is the scent people are describing a “vaporub and sex” I don’t disagree but I don’t think the description necessarily does it justice. 😂 All the scents are definitely meant to be unisex so they all have a powdery, spiciness to them. But this one is just so alluring and HOT. It gives me sweat, heat and sweet playfulness.

The closest thing I could compare it to in my own collection of perfumes was Clean Reserve’s Sparkling Sugar.

But switch the Fruity and Musky amounts. Closeness is like this scent’s naughty sister. 🖤

And there you have it! As I said, I’m not a professional perfume reviewer by any means (clearly 🤣) but I hope this gives everyone some idea of what they can expect! And of course if anyone else got the samples and would like to add (or tell me I’m completely off the mark, haha) please do.

Overall I genuinely loved each scent and think there’s something for everybody here. My favorite compliment is when someone tells me I smell good so I’m really particular about what I wear but I can honestly say I’d wear all of these happily. I lean more towards Bright, Hot for my personal preference but Rivulets smells great for an everyday scent where Closeness would be perfect for a date night out. The quality also seems to be great so if you do plan to purchase like I am, I don’t think we’ll be disappointed with the product.

If anyone has anymore questions, I’m totally happy to answer. 🩵🧡🖤

[wanderinginksplot]

Refuge Chapter Seven

You have a little time to kill before your first mission. Delta Squad has very different ideas of how you should spend it.

Continued slow burn Delta Squad x fem!reader

Word Count: 6,600

Warnings: feelings of alienation, mentions of lack of money, misunderstandings, light discussion of weapons and battle tactics, slight embarrassment.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

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When Scorch had mentioned finding a fun way to spend time planetside, he had apparently meant it literally. He and Sev walked you to the front entrance to the Temple and unceremoniously led the way outside. 

Scorch had already started walking away, chattering about places he enjoyed, when you stepped through the towering doors. You paused when you were out, taking a moment to adjust to the differences between what you were used to and what you actually found on Coruscant.

To be fair, those differences were hardly surprising. Coruscant was densely populated and heavily polluted. The outside air wouldn’t feel fresh, cool and faintly scented with pine needles like you were accustomed to on Voubos. But you were never ready for the hot, semi-stagnant waft tinged with the exhaust of innumerable speeders flying overhead.

More than the disappointing atmosphere, Coruscant was overwhelming, so bright your eyes stung to look around. Voubos could be noisy and had its fair share of sunshine, but there were no trees to shelter you from it here. The street outside the Jedi Temple was one of the few that hadn’t been choked by buildings, and it left the sun beating down on the duracrete expanse where you stood. The vicious light was blocked only by the occasional shadow of a speeder passing overhead, like a less-pleasant version of the clouds that performed the same function back home. 

And none of it was silent. The speeder engines were noisy, the people were noisy. Everything was undercut by the rumble of far-off machinery and the drone of hovering screens broadcasting the most recent Senate debate. It was loud enough that you almost didn’t register the sound of someone speaking directly to you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Sev’s harsh voice managed to cut through the stimuli surrounding you. You shook your head. “I’m still getting used to all of this..”

“You came here from the GAR headquarters,” he countered, frowning. “And you tailed us from there again today.”

“Commander Gree brought us in a transport the first time and I was too scared to see anything more than a blur,” you explained, still transfixed by the chaos surrounding you. “When I found you earlier, I was focused. I had something to get done. And now…”

“Now, you don’t have a mission to concentrate on,” Sev summarized. 

You grimaced. “Exactly. I’m sorry, I know I must seem… I’m sorry.”

Sev shook his head. “Remind me later and I’ll tell you about my first time on a planet other than Kamino.”

“Why not now?” you asked. 

“First, I don’t want to scare you,” he said ominously. Then he nodded behind you. “Second, we’re about to have company.”

Before you could wonder about the second part of that, Scorch came jogging up to the two of you. “What’s going on? I thought you were following me.”

“Just taking a minute to look around,” Sev told him. 

“We’ve all been here before, Sev,” Scorch reminded, exasperation in his face and voice. “No need to play tour guide.”

Sev - standing slightly behind you - must have made some kind of face at Scorch, who abruptly changed his stance. “Or, I suppose there might be a little need to play tour guide. But I’m the much better choice for it.”

He beckoned you closer and you obligingly followed him to the edge of one of the regular gaps that provided entrance to the lower levels. Scorch gestured toward it, though it was partially hidden behind the utilitarian fences that kept passers-by from getting too close. “Do you know what’s down there?”

With a smile at his hushed, conspiratorial tone, you nodded. “It’s another level. I understand there are five thousand of them.”

“Oh,” Scorch said, seeming to deflate slightly. 

Sev laughed at his brother, joining you in staring toward the fence-flanked space. “Five thousand plus a few, but yeah. I take it you did some research about the planet?”

You nodded. “But there are a few things I still don’t really understand.” 

“Like what?” Sev asked. 

“How do they make sure the levels are tall enough?” you asked, feeling utterly ridiculous. But the question had been bothering you, and this was a good opportunity to get some answers. “Do they just base the height of the ceilings on the tallest known species and go from there? Or are different levels different heights?”

Sev was staring at you blankly, which made you more nervous, but Scorch tipped his head back with a look of understanding. “Ahh, I get it. You’re thinking too small, nattie. Levels aren’t just for beings to walk around on. Each one is big enough to have buildings and speeder lanes and stuff. There’s no need to base them on specific heights.”

“They’re that big?” you asked, feeling suddenly queasy with vertigo. It was strange, fearing heights with your feet planted firmly on the ground, but you were also cognizant of the fact that you were far, far from the surface of the planet itself.

Scorch nodded sagely. “Yep. And each one has more species than you can count calling it home.”

“You good?” Sev asked, fingertips grazing your elbow lightly. 

You were gaping, you knew it. When you spoke, your voice was hushed and a little unsteady. “How are there any people left to live on other planets?”

“There are plenty more people in the galaxy,” Sev told you, amusement filling his deep voice. “Trust me, we’re fighting about half of ‘em.”

“You’re just not used to seeing this many life-forms,” Scorch informed you. “This is the most heavily populated planet in the galaxy. Your planet wasn’t anything compared to this.”

You hadn’t thought about Voubos very often since you had started training with the Jedi. Still, it was jarring to hear someone mention it, especially so casually. It made you feel like your life was a statistic, an incidental casualty almost too small to be counted. Not even - your life hadn’t been lost or taken, simply changed. You weren’t even significant enough to be a statistic.

Suddenly, you felt dizzy again, overwhelmed by something so much larger than yourself. But this time, instead of the planet’s population, the feeling had been brought on by the staggering largeness of the war. 

The only thing that brought you out of it was an unexpected noise. The sound could only be described as the sound of a plastoid-covered hand striking a plastoid-covered chest. It was followed shortly by a growl from Sev. “Shut up, di’kut.” 

“Sorry,” Scorch muttered. “I forgot natties are sentimental about that kind of thing.”

“It’s okay.” They both looked skeptical about your reassurance, but you smiled and changed the subject before they could add anything else. “So, what are we going to do? Did you have a plan for what you want to see today?”

“Whatever you wanna see,” Scorch told you with a shrug. “Explore as much as you want.”

Sev nodded. “We’re only here to make sure you aren’t attacked. Or fall off a building.”

That low opinion of your survival skills aside, you were warmed by the thoughtfulness and started off in a direction you decided looked promising. 

The time you spent on Coruscant took on a strange quality. Everything you saw was wonderful, every experience unlike any other you had ever had before. But, looking back, you could hardly catch more than a blur. 

You saw shops filled with goods both familiar and utterly mystifying. The streets were packed to bursting with beings, many of them belonging to species you had never seen before. Street performers playing strange instruments tried to entice passers-by to dance while stern, armored troopers ordered them to keep moving. 

You couldn't help sneaking a glance at the red and white helmet as you walked past. Both the Republic and the Separatist Alliance had distributed propaganda on Voubos, so they weren't unfamiliar to you. But you hadn't realized how imposing they would be with their blankly watching visors and the blasters strapped to their thigh plates.

With your focus so close on one trooper, you completely missed another standing on the opposite side of the path. Unfortunately, your lack of attention meant that you bumped into him, swiping him with your shoulder. 

He didn’t move in the slightest except to look down at you. In contrast, the slight collision had sent you staggering and you offered apologies even as you tried to recover your balance. 

“Watch yourself, civilian,” the trooper ordered. You couldn’t see his expression, but his tone managed to be disdainful even through the small speakers of his helmet. 

“Didn’t you hear her say ‘sorry’?” Sev asked, his deep voice lashing out from behind you. 

“And that’s more than you deserve, di’kut,” Scorch told him dismissively. “Anyone could see it was an accident.”

The trooper bristled, taking an aggressive half-step forward. “Hey, just because you’re-”

“Drop it,” the other trooper advised through the crowd. “Not worth the paperwork.”

The closer trooper looked Scorch and Sev up and down. He didn’t bother including you in that. Seemingly to himself, he muttered, “Commandos.”

“What was that?” Sev asked. 

If Sev took things any further, it was going to get physical. If it got physical, Scorch would join in. If Scorch joined in, it would be a brawl. Would you be pulled off of working with Delta Squad if half of them started a brawl with the Coruscant Guard? Instinct told you yes, but the Republic was short-staffed… But you weren’t taking any chances.

“Sorry again,” you called loudly, cutting off whatever else anyone might say. Your push against Scorch’s shoulder wasn’t gentle, but it was effective. Sev was more of a challenge, and you ended up bracing both hands between his shoulder blades and shoving. It wasn’t at all effective, but he let you move him. “We’ll just be on our way!”

The moment you had gotten through the press of the small crowd, Sev let out a string of blistering curses in an unfamiliar language. You watched in something like awe while Scorch gave you an amused look. When Sev had finished, Scorch asked, “Feeling any better?”

“No,” Sev grumbled. “I should have hit him.”

“I don’t think any of us are interested in seeing the inside of a Corrie Guard holding cell,” Scorch said lightly. “What’s next?”

As the second part of that had been directed at you, you glanced around. “I’m not sure. Are either of you getting hungry?”

Sev gave you a look you couldn’t quite figure out until Scorch added, “Always.”

You were, as well. “Well, something smells fantastic! I think it’s coming from over here…”

A nearby stand was offering street food, roasted meat and hunks of bread paired with a variety of sauces for dipping either into. The worker standing there belonged to a species you couldn’t name, though you had seen some of them around. They had a humanoid build with green, leathery skin. Their face had folds and curves that made you think their bone structure was slightly different than that of humans, but similar enough to know that they were offering a polite smile.

“Looking for something in particular?” The low tone and roughness of the worker’s voice made you think they were male, but there was no way to know for sure without asking, and that would have been inexcusably rude.

“It all looks incredible,” you told them, flashing a smile between staring at the array of foods spread out on the stand’s preparation surface.

“Only the best at Kiaba’s.” It was always risky trying to interpret the facial expressions of humanoid species, but from the clear pride that shone from their bearing, you assumed that you were speaking with the very Kiaba who owned the stand. 

You wanted to get a closer look at the food, but before you could take more than a step, Scorch had caught at your elbow. He leaned close, and for a wild moment, you thought he was going to kiss your cheek. 

He didn’t, of course. His lips ended up a scant distance from your ear instead, keeping Kiaba from overhearing. “We don’t have any credits, and this side of the city isn’t too willing to give their goods away.”

“Especially Klatoonians,” Sev added, half-turning away from Kiaba, who was watching you curiously from behind the stand’s main counter. “The culture believes in the value of hard work, but they take it to extremes. They consider any charity to be stealing someone’s chance to earn something the right way.”

You sent Kiaba a regretful smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been informed that we don’t have any credits.”

The professional half-smile that had stretched Kiaba’s lips disappeared in an instant as they scowled. “No handouts.”

“Of course not,” Scorch muttered, definitely loud enough for Kiaba to hear. Their scowl deepened and they leaned forward as if they were half-thinking about jumping over the workstation to beat some sense into an upstart customer.

So you cut in, avoiding Sev's attempt to stop you. "Sorry about the confusion! While we're talking, though, can you tell me what that dish is. The one right… there?" 

You gestured to something that looked like a pocket of dough, crimped at the edges, with hints of a warm orange seeping through in certain spots. It looked like a normal piece of dough, other than the spots, but it smelled of deep spices and roasted vegetables. 

Kiaba shook their head. "I can't take time outta my day to explain my menu to people who aren't even gonna buy something. I have paying customers."

"Where?" Scorch challenged. "We're the closest thing you have to customers within a five-klick radius!"

To Scorch’s credit, that was true. The area in front of Kiaba’s stand wasn’t empty - the size of the city made that nearly impossible - but no one seemed compelled to look at the food, much less stop. 

“Of course you don’t have to talk with us if you’re busy,” you assured. “I just want to understand it to see if I can find something similar in the future when I do have some credits.”

“You’d never find anything like my tisuh,” Kiaba told you, their tone a mixture of irritation and pride. “There are others who make it, but no one who does it as well as I do.”

You nodded, offering an encouraging smile. Kiaba watched you suspiciously before heaving a loud sigh. They beckoned you closer, dishing up one of the dough pockets so you could examine it more closely against the light brown of a simple disposable plate. 

“Tisuh is found many places in the galaxy,” they explained. “It is dough wrapped around a filling. There are as many kinds of tisuh as there are people who make it. Everyone has their own recipes, but the best one is found on Klatooine, where I’m from. My forebears have been making this dish for thousands of years, for millions of people. Wherever I am…” Kiaba took a bite of the pale round, showing you the orange-sauced filling inside as they chewed and gave a blissful tilt of their head, “it always reminds me of home.”

The watering of your mouth halted as you wondered what would remind you of Voubos. Everything, you expected, but you still managed a nod for Kiaba. “That’s lovely. I’m happy you have such a strong tie to things that bring you joy.”

“Where’s home for you?” they asked, taking another bite of food. 

“Nowhere, not anymore,” you admitted softly. “I’m looking for a new one.”

The green-skinned being finished chewing and watched you silently. You held their gaze, waiting to hear more about their tie to the tisuh or be told to leave, but Kiaba sighed again. They set their half-eaten food aside, deposited two more tisuh onto a new plate, and held it out to you. “You might as well have a full stomach while you look.”

The smile that spread across your face was instant and - you could feel it - delighted. It was nice to be reminded that there were kind and generous beings in the galaxy, no matter how rare they seemed. “Thank you, Kiaba. I appreciate it.”

From behind you, there came the sound of a throat being pointedly cleared. Kiaba rolled their dark eyes. “I guess I can spare a few for your friends.”

“I appreciate that, too,” you told them with a slow nod to show your gratitude. “As do my friends.”

It took a stern look from you to prompt Scorch and Sev into thanks, which were muttered without an ounce of sincerity. Kiaba seemed unconvinced, but the astonishment you felt when you took your first bite of tisuh brought something almost prideful to their expression.

The dough was tender and delicate, falling away to reveal a filling that seemed to be made up of mostly vegetables. They were tender, with just enough variation in texture for you to recognize that the filling had several different kinds of vegetables in it. All of them had been stewed in a thick sauce that was toward the upper limit of your spice tolerance, but the heat was dampened slightly by the coolness of the bready dough that had surrounded the filling.

“This…” you started, pausing for a moment while your brain tried to choose between speech and shoving more food into your mouth. “Kiaba, this is incredible!” 

“I know,” Kiaba told you with the closest thing you had seen to a smile on their face. 

You returned to inhaling your tisuh. Sev and Scorch were silent, but you could tell that they also liked the food by the speed they were eating. Even so, your plate was the first one empty and you disposed of it in a nearby waste receptacle. 

“My apologies for my friends,” you told Kiaba, earning a glare from Scorch. Sev ignored you entirely. “I can see why you were worried about a sudden flood of customers. I’m not sure how you have any tisuh that hasn’t been purchased already, but I thank you for sharing the excess with us. Your kindness is most appreciated.”

Kiaba waved you away. “Been kinda slow today, actually. Lucky for you all.”

Scorch appeared over your shoulder, peering down toward your hands. “Do you have any you’re not going to-? Oh, you’re already finished. You know, most females wouldn’t have been able to eat all of that.”

“Well, most females don’t have Kiaba’s excellent tisuh to motivate them,” you countered. “I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten!”

A dozen or so passersby glanced over at you curiously at the fervent praise. Some came to look at Kiaba’s selection of foods, and you were amused to see that a small line formed as you watched. 

Kiaba glanced from the line to you, their dark eyes traveling to Sev next. They pointed a stubby green finger at Scorch and Sev. “You two keep this to yourselves. I’m not running a clone charity. This was a one-time thing. I don’t want to see clones coming around here asking for handouts.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sev muttered while Scorch made a rude gesture behind him. Fortunately, Kiaba was too busy tending to the line to pay much attention to their antics, and you managed to pull the commandos away before they could say anything else. 

The three of you walked in silence for a while, but it started to grow uncomfortable. You rubbed your stomach and let out a contented sigh. “That was great.”

Sev nodded. “Better than the usual stuff.”

That made you remember to ask what you should have asked earlier. “So you guys don’t have any credits at all? How do you eat when you’re on Coruscant?”

“GAR mess hall,” Sev told you. “Or there’s a civvie place nearby that gives clones food occasionally. Some sympathizer. Feels bad for us.”

“Oh.” There seemed to be very few responses to that, but you ventured, “Nice?”

“Yeah, but it can get a little old,” Scorch said. “We don’t mind eating the same food over and over - ration bars’ll train you right up for that - but it’s nice to have something different now and then.”

You nodded understandingly. Anyone would get tired of the same food over and over again. “That’s valid. Even if it’s charity, that doesn’t mean you need to want it all the time.”

When Sev spoke, it was so sudden that he interrupted whatever Scorch had intended to say. “How much of that was Jedi osik?”

Scorch’s protests cut off and you felt the weight of their scrutiny on your face. All you could offer was the truth. “I’m not really sure.”

“I thought you learned to control it,” Scorch said. 

“I am, it’s- it’s a long process,” you reminded them both. “It’s hard to know when I’m using the Force, because I’ve spent my whole life thinking it was just part of who I am and how I relate to people.”

The silence was deafening - which was a trick, considering the sheer number of people surrounding you as you walked through the city streets - until it was broken by Scorch. He sounded unusually serious, enough so that you actually looked over at him. “Never use that on us. Just… don’t.”

“I won’t,” you assured him instantly, stung by the insinuation that you would try to make them do something by force rather than conversation or negotiation. 

“You might not know, though, right?” Sev pointed out. 

“...Right,” you agreed, voice quiet. You hated to admit it, but you refused to lie to them. There was every chance you wouldn’t be able to recognize when you were influencing their will. 

The silence that fell between the three of you was tense. When Scorch suggested that you go back to the GAR’s barracks, you didn’t argue. 

When you arrived at the barracks, Boss and Fixer were waiting for you. 

“About time,” Fixer grumbled. “I knew Six-Two couldn’t read a chronometer, but I thought better of you, Oh-Seven.”

“Shove it, Fixer,” Scorch retorted. “We’re not on a mission. And fifteen extra minutes is nothing in civvie time.”

“C’mon, we have places to be,” Boss ordered, offering only a brief nod to Scorch and Sev. He gestured for you to follow him as he walked away. 

You glanced at the others. Sev’s expression was blank while Scorch’s was an amused mask. Fixer started walking in the direction Boss had gone, tilting his head for you to come along.

Gradually, the signage told you that you were approaching the armory. Every door you passed was just like every other, a gray door set in a gray wall. They were double the width of a standard door, leaving no hint about what lay behind or what typically was transported in or out. When you finally stopped, Boss had to enter a code into a control panel set into the wall and scan a spot on his arm before the door would open. From the noise it made while it slid, it was heavier than normal - most likely armored to withstand any attempts to break in. Even then, you entered into a narrow, shallow hallway that led directly to another door with the same control panel and scanner. Boss opened that armored door as well and you entered the room.

When you stepped through, you were taken aback by the sheer size of the armory. Just ahead of you was a waiting area, complete with hard durasteel benches set into the walls for people to sit while they awaited their chance to speak with the clerk. The clerk’s desk was set behind another wall - though this one did not reach the towering ceiling. It was guarded by a transparisteel barrier that looked resistant to blaster fire, though there was a speaker set into it so people could speak to the clerk. 

Behind the clerk’s chair, you could see rows of doorways holding different types of weapons. Each entrance was covered by a ray shield. There were shelves in the middle of the space that held the additional necessities - everything from kamas to harnesses that would support heavy weapons for the wearer - and at the back of the room, you could see a practice range. There was more around the edges of the space, you were sure, but it was hidden by the half-wall and the clerk was beckoning you forward. 

You took a nervous step toward the human male - definitely not a clone, you noted, but a GAR employee - but Boss approached with more confidence. “I need to outfit a new member of my squad.”

“Okay, that doesn’t help me much,” the clerk told him. “What is your designation? What is your squad’s designation? What is the new trooper’s designation?”

“RC-1138, Delta Squad, and she doesn’t have a designation.”

The clerk blinked at the resolution of Boss’s answers. “She? You have a non-clone addition to a commando squad?” 

“Yes, we do,” Fixer said, ushering you forward. “Approved by the Jedi Council. Generals Yoda, Windu, and Unduli in particular.”

The clerk still looked a little stunned, even when he was looking directly at you, so you helpfully supplied your name. He shook his head in resignation. “You’re going to have to wait while I get this cleared.”

“Fine,” Boss agreed, stopping you when you started toward one of the benches in the empty waiting area. 

“You’ll probably be more comfortable over there,” the clerk said. 

“We’ll just wait here,” Fixer countered, leaning slightly against the counter and watching the clerk steadily. 

There was no way to know for certain how quickly the clerk would have moved without being stared at by two no-nonsense commandos and one mildly confused Force-sensitive woman, but he was able to contact someone in moments. After a short conversation with a superior who sounded decidedly grumpy to be asked for clearance, the clerk motioned you over to a door set into the wall that divided the waiting area from the rest of the armory. 

When it opened, Boss led the way in and Fixer followed you. The clerk gave all three of you a skeptical look. “The droids will help you from here. I assume you know where everything is?”

“Yes,” Boss said shortly. 

“Thank you!” you chirped, unable to fight the urge to be polite. 

Boss glanced back at you with a slight lift of his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything as he led the way toward a specific part of the room.

“Don’t thank him,” Fixer told you. He didn’t lower his voice in the slightest and you cringed at the idea of the clerk overhearing him, but the man had gone back to his desk and was now scrolling through a datapad. “He did nothing but slow us down.”

“He let us in the door,” you argued. 

“Slowly,” Fixer snorted. “I could have sliced in faster than it took him to open it.”

"When you two are finished," Boss started, his even tone holding an edge of impatience, "I'd like to get this done."

With that said, he turned and tapped a droid that began to power up. 

You had gotten more familiar with the variety of droids that helped everyday life run more smoothly in the Republic, but you certainly didn't know all of them. You leaned closer to Fixer. "What kind of droid is it?" 

"An RMR, second generation," he told you. "They're pretty rare. The GAR is the only legal user in the galaxy."

As soon as the droid was fully upright, Boss shoved his arm in front of its sensors. "I need armor for my new squad member." 

The droid scanned Boss's arm with a flickering reddish light, then trained its sensors on his face. "The records indicate that the new attachment to Delta Squad, led by RC-1138, is a human female. The approval was issued by the Jedi Council. Do you need armor for a Jedi?" 

"Yes," Boss decided. As the RMR droid whirred toward one of the shelves, he gave a wordless shrug over one shoulder, offering that by way of an explanation to you and Fixer. 

The droid came back, holding a small stack of plates in its metallic arms. Boss accepted them with noticeable disgust. "What is this?" 

"Armor for a Jedi," RMR explained. "Most Jedi choose to wear small amounts of armor to facilitate easier movement around the battlefield. The blaster-resistant undertunics are provided by the Jedi Temple, but I could check to see what we have in stock…" 

“Absolutely not,” Boss refused. The droid, having already started to move away, turned just in time to catch the plates it had just handed Boss. The sergeant was shaking his head with thinly veiled irritation. “No Jedi of ours is going to walk around unarmored. I want a full set for her, tailored to her specs.”

You tried to keep a straight face, but you were unreasonably warmed by the casual sense of belonging that Boss had offered. You weren’t even a Jedi, really, but Delta Squad had offered you a place in the galaxy where you could fit in. And you would apparently fit in there for a long time, if Boss had anything to say about it.

“Sergeant, a full set of armor is heavy,” RMR objected. “Wearing it may decrease her ability to maneuver around a battlefield. That is the reasoning behind most Jedi wearing sparser armor-”

“And that’s their choice,” Boss agreed. “But I won’t have someone on my squad who would be taken out by ricochet blaster fire. Let us worry about her maneuverability.”

RMR droids clearly had not been designed to sigh, but if it had the ability, you would bet that RMR would have done so. Instead, it settled for a heavy silence before replacing the plates Boss had handed back. 

“Boss,” you started quietly, trying to disguise the emotion in your voice. You didn’t know exactly how you were going to thank him for looking out for you, but you needed to tell him. Especially in the wake of Scorch and Sev’s subtle step back after your earlier meal. “I-”

“No complaints,” he told you harshly. The surprise of it kept you from protesting aloud, but he seemed to take your silence for offense, because he gave a small sigh. You watched his shoulders move with it before he angled his head to see you in his peripheral vision. “I know it seems like too much, but-”

“Thank you,” you interrupted. 

You could only see Boss’s face in profile, but you watched the eyebrow you could see shoot upward in surprise. Before he could answer, the RMR droid returned. This time, it was carrying a much larger stack of plastoid plates. 

The feeling you got at the sight was a surprise to you. Those were yours - or, they would be once they had been sized properly. It would be your way to start repaying the debt you owed these men. Delta Squad had saved your life, and this pile of plastoid would protect that life while you worked to help them. 

RMR was apparently not happy with any of you, and it dumped the armor into Boss’s arms. Boss caught most of it, but Fixer had to snag a few pieces out of the air. Then RMR handed you a piece of slinky black material. 

“What is this?” you asked, holding it up and puzzling at the shapeless fall of fabric.

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence, broken only by a mutter from Fixer. “Body glove.”

Ah. 

The next hour was among the most embarrassing of your life. Republic technology was at least good enough to keep the fabric from becoming sheer as it stretched over certain places, but there were no secrets in the body glove. Every bump and curve and swell of your figure was blatantly visible.

It was bad enough when you confronted yourself in the long, narrow mirror in the changing room, but Boss and Fixer clearly noticed the places where the fabric strained to contain you. It became a game of ignorance, everyone aware of it, but no one saying anything. 

Fortunately, the nature of your task meant that you slowly got more covered up as time passed. Pieces of plastoid armor locked into place, each one held firm against you by a system of electromagnets. You had wondered how the armor worked, and you were thrilled to find that the electromagnetism was activated when the plates touched different sections of a flexible wiring worked into your body glove.

You had to swap several pieces of armor, working closely with RMR as you sized up and down to collect a full set that fit your body. By the time you finished, you were sweating. (You had to wipe it away with your palm, since the back of your hand was protected by a gauntlet.)

“Doing okay?” Fixer asked, approaching with the helmet you had been eying almost as long as you had been trying on armor. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a sheepish look. “This really is heavy. More than I expected.”

Boss nodded. “We’ll do most of your training in it to build your strength. The relief mission we’re about to go on won’t require speed, but wearing it will keep you safe while you get used to it.”

“I can’t say I’m looking forward to it, but I think it’s a good idea.”

As soon as you had agreed, Fixer handed you the helmet. “Last piece.”

You raised the helmet and slid it over your head. The seal at the bottom of the helmet pulled at your scalp, then at the sensitive skin of your face as it lowered further and further before it settled into place. When the helmet seal met the neck of your body glove, the helmet’s HUD flickered to life. 

Your breath caught at the way information was augmenting everything you could see. You had assumed that the helmet would limit your sight and hearing, but that wasn’t the case at all. In fact, the only sense that suffered was smell. 

The viewport allowed you to see everything around you while the HUD gave you information about everything outside your field of vision, synced to where your eyes traveled. The speakers of the helmet were incredible as well, bringing sounds inside while also allowing your sound of surprise to travel outward.

Fixer grinned and Boss gave a soft chuckle - both of which were presented with perfect clarity by the helmet. 

“I remember that first time seeing the galaxy through a helmet,” Fixer said, sounding a little wistful. 

“We’ll probably turn down some of the HUD features until you get used to it,” Boss offered. “And then you can sort through it all and choose what you want to keep.”

“Can I keep all of it?” you asked. “It’s incredible!”

“You won’t want to see everything,” Fixer warned you. “Especially not when you’re in combat. You’ll want the necessities - nothing more, nothing less.”

“If all members of your squad are fully armored, I must request that you leave the armory,” RMR informed you all, appearing once more. You weren’t surprised, though. The HUD had warned you of an incoming droid even with RMR approaching from behind you. 

“We’ll be on our way in a minute, droid,” Boss told it. He turned to Fixer. “Go check our ship for tomorrow. Make sure everything is loaded and that systems are set for a smooth mission. You know what to look for.”

Fixer nodded and - with a final glance at you - left the armory. Boss held a hand out in your direction. You glanced at it, then at him, but he couldn’t see your confused frown under the cover of protective plastoid.

After a moment, he said, “Give me your helmet. I’ll hold it while you change back into your clothes.”

Ah. At least you hadn’t done anything mortifying, like taking his hand. Even so, your face was hot as you removed the helmet and handed it to him. Your retreat to the changing area may have been a little faster than it would have been otherwise, but that could be for any number of reasons. 

When you reappeared, Boss gave you a medium-sized pack. “To carry the armor.”

You nodded and knelt to pack the plates of armor. By far the bulkiest piece was the chestplate, but it wasn’t impossible to carry. The body glove folded down smaller than you could believe, especially now that you knew there was an electromagnetic system hidden in the fabric’s weave.

You stood and slung the pack over your shoulders. It took a moment to adjust your balance, but the weight didn’t seem quite so bad with it supported by your shoulder. Boss handed you the helmet once more. “I’ve already signed everything out, so we’re good to go. Just remember that everything is owned by the GAR. They don’t care if you customize it, but not in any way that purposely damages it.” 

“Got it,” you said with a nod. “Anything else I should know?”

“No, but there’s something I should,” Boss countered. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked in surprise, walking behind him as you left the armory. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing is wrong.”

Boss sighed through his nose, a sound filled with more disappointment than irritation. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want a real answer. What is it?” 

You took a moment to think it over, but Boss apparently thought you didn’t intend to say anything at all. With a grave look, he said, “I’ll make it an order if I have to.”

With that mild threat hanging over you, telling the truth seemed to be your best option. You told him what had happened at Kiaba’s, and the way Scorch and Sev had reacted to you afterward.

“It makes sense and I understand where they’re coming from,” you hastened to add. “I’m just worried they’re never going to trust me. But I know none of us knew everything before we agreed to have me work for you and I’m not going to be offended if you feel the same way. It’s hard to-”

“I don’t.”

The simple denial made you abruptly cut off your tirade. Despite the trickle of relief running through you, the only question you had was: “Why?”

Boss shrugged. “The Force isn’t much different from getting an order. You feel like you should follow it, but nothing can completely take over your free will. Not unless you’re a complete di’kut.”

“How do you know?” you asked. It seemed stupid to question things when they seemed to be going your way, but you couldn’t help it.

“Someone had us made,” Boss pointed out. “If the Force could make people follow something without question, they wouldn’t need a clone army, they would need a rogue Jedi. Besides, Dooku would do that to make an army for the Seppies. Instead, they’re spending fortunes on their clankers.”

For the life of you, you couldn’t think of an answer to that. When you kept walking beside him in open-mouthed silence, Boss caught your look and shrugged again. “It’s a working theory, but I thought it over before I ever agreed to have you join us.”

“You’re smarter than I could ever dream of being,” you told him, hearing the awe in your own voice. 

“Nah, I’m just used to thinking around what the jetii do,” he countered. “Don’t worry about Sev and Scorch. They’ll get over it soon enough. Right now, you need to focus on the mission. We meet in the hangar bay at oh-five-hundred hours. Get some sleep before then.”

---

Author's Note - Uh, oh. A little awkwardness with Scorch and Sev! I'm STILL working my way through the Republic Commando book series, and I feel like troopers (especially Delta) would have trouble with the idea of their scraps of free will being taken away by someone, even if they like and trust that person.

This chapter was supposed to be posted a week ago, but Thanksgiving was crazy and internet access was sparse. Sorry for the delay and thank you for your patience. Thank you for reading!

[ritualofcirice]

Lucifer's Response (Letter One, a Lucifer x Reader)

🐑 ♡ Thank you so much Sycamore, my darling, for editing this! THANK YOU ♡🐑

You sent a love letter to Lucifer, and he responded.

Teen and Up Audiences, No Warnings, F/M, M/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Love Letters, Fluff, Awkwardness, Gift Giving, Emotional Baggage, Ambiguous Gender Reader, POV Second Person

This one is gifted to @jalicecookie! Thank you for supporting the series, it means the world to me to see people enjoying these ♡

Find it on ao3 ♡ WC: 719

Chapter 1

Letter One

When you wrote a letter to royalty, you expected to be royally disappointed. The expectation was that you would not receive anything back. Yet there you were holding a velvet drawstring pouch threaded with Lucifer’s sigil in gold.

Gold became your expectation too. Not only did the golden thread lace every seam, but it crawled from the pouch where it sat in a plaited bow to keep it sealed. Within it, you found a rectangular box that shared the same exuberant golden colour. The lid was held over the top with lace and a thin line of ribbon.

After sliding off the lace and lifting the lid, you were greeted with a scroll of parchment. Another lace slip held it in place with a seal to top it off. Careful not to break the wax, you slotted your nail beneath it and lifted. With a crackle, it peeled away from the lace which you pulled off the parchment.

You placed it to one side as you wanted to keep it, then you returned your attention to the letter.

Keeping a rolled scroll of paper open was difficult without it rolling back up on itself, so you ended up placing it down on your desk. A paperweight came in handy in pinning down one end. You used your hand to smooth down the other as you read.

‘To my Secret Admirer, I got your letter! That is the only way I would know your address to return one back, of course. Otherwise I wouldn’t. And now you know that I’m not some creepy stalker. Great! I’m so glad we’ve gotten that out of the way. Letters - you know I haven't sent one in ages? Yours was such a pleasant surprise that I ended up searching everywhere in the house to find my old writing kit. I got really worked up about it, so please tell me if this is too much. Is it too much? Since there wasn’t an envelope, I had to make a pouch instead. I'm flattered though, truly. And I'm sorry that it took me so long to get this to you. I wanted to make sure I said the right thing because it has been so long since I spoke to anyone in Hell. Usually I would avoid that. As you can tell. You wouldn't have sent your letter otherwise. But I wanted to let you know that I'm okay. Thank you for reaching out to me even though you don't know me. Or maybe you do! Maybe I have seen you. Maybe we haven't seen each other for a long time. I mean - I doubt that. I can tell, actually. You're not who came to mind, and that's okay. You're a wonderfully unique you! Rough around the edges if you're in Hell, but you’re polished enough that I can see the shine through the dirt. I don’t mean to sound rude. There is a reason Hell hasn’t seen me. Trust me when I say the are far, far too many more as well. Although, it isn’t appropriate for me to discuss in a letter to someone I haven’t gotten to know yet. Rest assured, none of those reasons are you. Truth be told, I’d like to know more about you if you're willing to share with me. I’m happy to answer any of your questions too! I have a question for you to get us started! I am not ignoring the fact that your letter was more romantically inclined. I hope so anyway. Not because I would jump at the first sign of any affection, I'm just curious. How could you call yourself my secret admirer when you haven't met me? I know that goes back to well have we - haven't we, I don't know. But I do know I haven't met anyone new in a long time, and those I do know would not keep it a secret. Nor do I recognise your address. My judgment tells me this isn't some sort of hoax either because why else would anyone send an anonymous letter to someone to check on how they are unless they genuinely did care. What if I'm not who you think I am? Why would you trouble yourself for someone who doesn't even know who you are? Yours sincerely, Lucifer M.’

♡ Letter two ♡

[rosellerivers19]

I HATE Pushpa (the character)

Pushpa is a movie that was released during the pandemic and became a massive hit. Even Bollywood stars commented on the movie. The songs were memorable and the song Sooseki got around 100 million views even though the second movie hadn't released yet.

It seems South indian Cinema is getting more appreciated with films like Bhaubali, RRR and KGF Chapter 1/2 and Devara might even gain more attention due to Jr. Ntr's presence. (Which I'm super excited about I loved him ever since I was young, him and Ram charan were one of my favorites so RRR was a pleasant surprise)

I'm just disappointed that Pushpa's story is the one thats getting this attention.

Pushpa has good BGM, the setting is cool and cinematography can be considered good and Allu Arjun is always appreciated but the story is where it lacks.

Can I understand it? Yes, I've been watching TollyWood movies ever since I was 1. I was singing Gabbar Singh songs when I was a toddler. I understand what logic Tollywood tries portraying is it always right? No but its enjoyable and times were different we're evolving we want more complex and meaningful stories now Bahubali and RRR gaining attraction are examples that South Indian movie industry is evolving finally!

So imagine my disappointment when I see Pushpa the next great Tollywood film.

"Pushpa Raj is a self respecting young man who takes pride in his work. He works at a mill, but leaves it when his owner doesn't like his attitude outside of work. Pushpa goes for Red sandal wood cutting in the forest. Pushpa lives in a village with his mother Parvatamma, and is the illegitimate son of a local rich man." That is the story according to imbd.

You'd think the movie gives more context about Pushpa nope. IMBD really summed it all up and thats the problem. Pushpa's character can be summed up in a few words and there's not depth beyond those words in the movie itself.

The thing that makes this film detestable is the main character Pushpa he is not enjoyable whatsoever. It's like one of those Dark Romance ML's but they tried mixing in a few funny liners and tried making him a sunshine character as well but failed?

He's not funny I feel bad for his sidekick Kesava actually no. I like Kesava better than Pushpa Himself. He looks like he has actually meaning and depth he has relatable goals and is actually funny or seems to have some sort of personality. I wholeheartedly ship him and Srivalli's friend actually go Side characters!

Now lets compare 2 films Maari 2 and Pushpa which might seem random but let me explain

Maari in both the first one and the sequel was a gangster however do you know why i like him better than Pushpa? He has redeeming qualities he has morals like he kills bad people but doesn't want to sell drugs because he knows that can make innocent people succumb to horrible diseases like his best friend their situations are very different however Maari is seen as a morally gray character just like Pushpa is portrayed as. Maari also has morals when he kills beeja's brother for attempting to assault Anandhi's sister. He's doing something 'bad' killing a person but he essentially redeems it because of why he does it. He also gives good advice when she talks about no one wanting to marry her because she's ruined maari says she isn't an object to be ruined and its not wrong to wait how long to find a guy that understands that.

He's a troubled guy with not normal values but I can sympathize with him and actually root for him because he's a good person.

A more accurate example KGF Rocky is on a very similar path to Pushpa he only relied on his mother his whole life until she died while in Pushpa his mother and himself suffered humiliation. Pushpa was often beat up Rocky was also beat probably even more. They both started at the streets and slowly climbed up wanting money and power. Pushpa only smuggled and framed and fought. Rocky outright killed but I still like him better than Pushpa do you know why?

Because he has character Rocky's backstory is more compelling wanting to fulfill his dying mother's wishes of not wanting her son to die miserably without money like her even if it meant becoming a bad person? Hell yeah. Also similar to maari he has limits he has certain morals, clear cut morals. in the first KGF movie he outright stops traffic for a mother and her son who wanted to get some food but were unable to because of the traffic and gave her hard advice. That the world isn't gonna stop for you its harsh and not lenient and that we need to MAKE it stop. We have to put in the work and not just hope someone will always come along. This gives us insight into his views further developing his character.

Pushpa's story is he was an outcast because he was an illegitimate son and was unable to have his father's last name? So he makes his name Pushpa Raj. He disrespects his mother despite her being the only one there for him and just usually disregards her. He has too much Pride. He doesn't have much regard for women as we see when he gives his shirt to Jaali's victim.

And the thing is all of these problems could be fixed if we saw more into his character which we're only given bits and pieces of.

Pushpa isn't close to his mother? Maybe its because he blames her for all the prejudice but still cares for her somewhere in his heart which is seen through the light interactions between the two in the movie. He has too much Pride? well he feels like thats his right because he was denied everything else his father's name, money, and even necklace. He doesn't have regard for women much? Even that can be fixed like in the movie 'temper' where Jr Ntr's character first doesn't care much for other women ends up willing to give his life for them he gets character development. Pushpa could not really see a big deal in Jaali's activities until he's confronted with one of the victims himself and is reminded of the women in his life and starts to detest Jalli which ultimately bursts when Jaali sets his eyes on Srivalli.

Everything I said you can mostly think about happening in the movie but its like a real stretch you have to really put your mind on it to see it happening in the canon of the Pushpa universe its nots showed to us the viewers like in other movies we don't get clear cut shots of these narratives I spoke up being played out. Its what makes these movies lively or entertaining in my opinion because they had depth which is enhanced due to the main character himself.

So see this from my perspective a MAN is able to outsmart the police and insult them, illegally get sandal wood, Act like and arrogant bastard through most of this move, have so much intelligence out of nowhere and still gets a girl?

Reena has more personality than Srivalli I'm actually gonna begin stanning her after this.

And when I say a MAN I mean a MAN because the person Pushpa on my screen is a stranger to me I don't get a clear feel of his character or any connection to him.

I really hope these issues are rectified in the second movie but I have my doubts. Pushpa as a movie feels like a regression for Tollywood and I don't want that for my cinema industry which I know has flaws but I also know that its healing and has really good stories.

Anyways to all Indian movie lovers out hope you're excited for Devara because I sure am. Jr. Ntr in double roles? Its like Adhurs all over again. And one of his roles seems really cute too, I've wanted to see Jr Ntr in action again for a long time.

But thats all for now

Yours truly

Roselle🪷

[francesminos-tt]

thoughts abt EP 3?

One word to describe my thoughts of ep3 will be simply, disappointed. This show just keeps delivering the worst takes and destroy every single one of the characters, and it has become quite annoying, to be honest.

I will start with what I do like about ep3. I think Baela is my favorite character so far, or perhaps the show runners haven't gotten time to destroy her yet. Baela seems reasonable, brave, compassionate, and has a general grasp of politics that sadly few characters do in this reason. Alys is another pleasant surprise. I like her looks, and the mystique around her is quite intriguing, making me wonder what her real agenda is. I just hope the show doesn't let her be Daemon’s lover (since they deleted Nettles, so if Rhaenyra is going to suspect Daemon of cheating, the only possible choice now is Alys). Also, I like the opening scene of Blackwoods and Bracken having a scribble. It shows us the grudges of these two houses, and the actors did a fairly good job at creating a teenager fighting scene LOL. But, I have to point out, I do not like the show just omitting the whole battle of the Burning Mill. This battle is not of large scale, but it shows the power dynamics of the Riverlands, and is the first battle to draw blood in the Dance. It also introduces characters like Black Aly, who is another amazing female character that has her own importance in the Dance, but the show never gives them a chance to shine.

Now, move on to things I don't like, which are quite a lot. Firstly, I hate most of the characters in this episode, including Rhaenyra, but what makes me furious the most is the show’s depiction of Rhaenys and Corlys. Rhaenys is the epitome of a proud and fierce Targaryen, and she will not tolerate usurpers. She died fighting said usurpers. She is not naive enough to believe that peace is still possible after the death of Luke and Jaehaerys. I mean, wake up. Even Aegon knows better to sack Otto and promote Cole, because he needs a Hand who knows how to lead a battle instead of a mere politician. Actually, I think what makes Otto and Tywin essentially different is that Tywin is not only a politician, but also a military strategist. Rhaenys’s view sounds way too modern. It is the show runner’s attempt to impose modern values on a fantasy world that is known for its cruelty and savagery. Also, I despise Corlys and his hypocrisy in this episode. Wdym he just simply ignores Rhaena and Joffrey as his heir? Has the show runners even read the original book? Even if Corlys doesn't want Joffrey, who is allegedly a bastard, he has no reason to set Rhaena aside. Rhaena doesn't have a dragon (yet)? Fine, but guess what, Addam doesn't either! From last episode, I don't think Addam has already claimed Seasmoke. Even if he did, it is just stupid for Corlys to ignore Rhaena. Whoever Addam’s father is, even if he is legitimized, Addam was still once a bastard, so it is wise to strength Addam’s claim by betrothing him and Rhaena (that’s the reason of Luke and Rhaena’s betrothal in S1). I know the show is just trying to follow the book, where Rhaena and Joff is sent to the Vale and Corlys recognizes Addam as his heir. But. The book has some legit reasons of doing so. First, in the book, Joffrey is betrothed to the Manderlys in White Harbor, so Rhaena cannot marry him, which is a typical practice in medieval times to marry the bride to the groom’s brothers should the groom die prematurely. Second, Corlys recognizes Addam after he claims Seasmoke, and is based on the claim that Addam is Laenor’s son, not Corlys’s own (true or not, this is the right parentage to claim). Third, he did this after Rhaenys died. If Corlys does what he does in the show, he will anger three Targaryens, Rhaenyra, Rhaenys and Daemon, and why would he do that? Who will give Addam’s offspring a dragon egg or the chance to claim a dragon? Targaryens hold all the dragon resources, and that’s the source of their power. Corlys wants dragons for the Velaryons, and I assume he wants more than one. The show changes so many things that, at this point, letting the characters do what they did in the book seems very out of character.

Lastly, I don't even want to talk about Rhaenyra’s trip to KL. I see her fallout with Daemon as her unable to trust him anymore because Daemon did things behind her back, but what Rhaenyra did is more outrageous and unreasonable that I think it is this behavior that drives her ally away, not the allegation of baby killer. Let me explain. Imagine you are a noble supporting the Blacks. You send troops and resources to help the Queen’s cause, because one, you honor your oath, and two, you want to have some kind of reward or benefits after her grace takes back the throne. What will you think, if you find out your queen puts herself in danger by sneaking into enemy territory to try and negotiate peace? Is she negotiating peace, or planning to bend the knee? What will happen to your house if Rhaenyra just gives up her throne and the Greens begin the political purge? If I am a Black supporter, and I hear of Rhaenyra’s doing, I will seriously consider the possibility of switching sides. Another point I want to make is that, Rhaenyra’s visit is not only unnecessary, but also useless. I don’t think Alicent is an eligible negotiator in the first place. Even if she agrees to the peace, what difference will she make? Is she able to convince her son and the council to accept the peace treaty? I don't think so. She doesn't even seem to have an ounce of power over Larys, let alone Aegon. And if you think Aemond will support her, you don't know Aemond at all. At this point, I don't even care about Aegon’s sly and Aemond’s cock at this point, because they are not even close to other shitty characterizations.

All in all, I don't like this episode, and it’s fair to say I don't like this season so far. The only thing that keeps me going is Gwayne’s face card.

Thank you for attending my Ted talk.

[alteon77]

The Bizarre Breeding Habits of Anthropomorphic Personifications: Chapter 8

It's a tale as old as time.

Two idiots fall in love. Two idiots fall out of love.

Neither one of them is expecting a baby to come along and derail their unhappily ever after.

Chapter One here, AO3 here, Masterlist here

Chapter Summary: Morpheus and May are set upon by an enemy at the doctor's office. Once they're free, May contemplates her stupidity in getting pregnant. Morpheus makes a concession at last.

"We must leave this place," Morpheus says from the door in a deep, frankly bossy tone that surprises May. He'd been doing so well, had been acting pleasant by her (admittedly low) standards for his behavior, and to see him finally giving in to his tendency to pitch a fit kind of disappoints her. She'd known right from the jump that he hadn't wanted to come here with her and that he hadn't thought a human doctor could do very much for her at all, but he's been almost… decent up until this. And while his moods have always been mercurial (which is the understatement of the millennia), she can't imagine what it is that's brought on the beginnings of the pout party he seems to be heading into.  

May narrows her eyes at him, thoroughly unimpressed. "Excuse me?" 

He glances back at her, likely sees that she's wearing her you're being a jackass and I hope you're ashamed face, and huffs out a long-suffering sigh as if she's the one being unreasonable. He looks up at the ceiling for a split second, essentially rolling his eyes though she knows he'd deny it if she were to call him on it, before he stalks to the chair she'd set her clothes on. He snatches up the neatly folded pile, thrusting her pants and underwear at her with a tense moue of aggravation, and May blanches ever so slightly. She doesn't mean to, but it reminds her of how he'd appeared during that last giant fight of theirs, that final one of their actual romantic relationship where she'd ended up both banished and broken-hearted.  

As if he notices it, he gentles fractionally and sets the bundle tentatively beside her atop the tall bed she's sitting on.  

"Please dress," he asks, his tone almost polite. "It is imperative that we make haste." 

And then he fixes his gaze on the wall opposite her to give her a minute of privacy as she scoots off the table, slides on her underwear, and starts shimmying into her jeans. She doesn't quite know what's caused this change in his demeanor, but he's holding himself stiff where he's facing the door, the line of his shoulders rigid as if he's waiting for an attack. Just the sight of him like this, clearly freaked out about something, is enough to make fear roil in her gut, more nauseating to her than even the constant morning sickness is.  

"Okay. I've got everything back on. Want to tell me what the hell this is?" 

"You have been followed. There is a dark magic covering the entirety of this building," he answers as he studies her face, his eyes boring into her as he delivers this awful news.  

Shit. Dizziness washes over her, and she reaches a hand out to the wall in an effort to steady herself. Shit, shit, shit. Makers. It's got to be makers. There's nothing else that would hunt her so quickly, nothing else that would be able to blanket a whole fucking building in a spell like that. She thinks on where the nearest escape route would be, grateful in that moment that Viego's been a stickler about her knowing all the ways to get out of a place since humans first started carving extra doorways in their mud-brick huts. "We've got to get to an exit. There's one down the hallway and to the left." 

"I thought to simply shift us," he counters with a confused frown. 

"No… The spell that they're using, it's like a magical net. One made for makers. It probably won't do anything to you, but I can only walk through it on foot. It's to… to stop us from freeing ourselves quickly when they corner us. Any makers that have ever tried to use their magic and shift through those things have ended up torn into a million pieces. And we don't regenerate from that." 

He recoils, obviously stunned. "Are you… aware of who hunts you then?" 

"It's… my... own kind. Wars need soldiers, Morpheus, and… and most of us don't want to fight. They send out seekers who… who find us and force us to…" She swallows thickly past the lump forming in her throat as she tries to calm herself down. She doesn't want to admit this to him, doesn't want to give him one more reason to look down on her. "They force us to either enlist or die." 

In an instant, anger tautens his features as he glares at her, his eyes fading into obsidian pools as a scowl twists his mouth. "And you did not think to inform me of this?" he hisses.  

Her fear fades away like a bit of smoke from the end of a freshly-extinguished candle, and it's replaced with a rage that's directed entirely at him. Jesus on a Dorito, but this bastard can rile her up like nothing and no one else. 

"It wasn't an issue before," she snaps caustically. "It hasn't been an issue until right this moment, so here I am telling you about it right this moment. See how that works?" 

"Knowledge that you are under threat right this moment, as you say, does us little good at this juncture, whereas an advanced warning might have allowed me to have an alternative plan in place for just such an occurrence." 

"Alternative plan? From you? Mr Act-First-and-Think-Later? We both know how that conversation would have went. You would have fussed, then pouted, then fussed some more, then gotten all caveman-" 

"Caveman?" he cuts in incredulously. "You would dare to call me such a thing?" 

"Puh-lease. Your caveman name would be Morpheus of the Moods, and you'd wear a black loincloth. You know, now that I think about it, your helmet even looks a little bit like a beating club. I mean if you held it from the bottom, you could maybe use it for that and-" 

He steps closer, getting all up in her space. "Perhaps you should be grateful that I am, in fact, not given to such physical violence else you would be no more."  

May can't help her derisive scoff. "Like your words don't hurt me too? The way that you speak to me is-"

"I merely speak to you as if you are the female who foolishly ventured outside of the wards that were protecting you and-" 

"Anytime you feel like it, you can stop acting like I just slipped out for an ice cream cone, you actual jerk. I went for medical attention. Because I was sick. Worryingly sick. And I know you couldn't care less if I were to keel over dead, but I am carrying your child, so maybe you could… I don't know? Care about that?" 

"If I did not care in some capacity, I would not be here." 

A door slams loudly outside, and both Morpheus and May turn their heads towards the sound. There's a muted growl that reverberates through to them from another room before a high-pitched scream breaks the stillness of the area beyond, filling the silence with someone else's pain.  

May's breath stutters in her lungs, her grief a biting, vicious thing within her. There are… people out there. Innocent people. And they're being hurt or killed. She doesn't know what exactly she can really do to help them, but she's sure she has to do something. As if he's reading her thoughts, though, Morpheus steps in front of her, solid and immoveable as he effectively blocks her way.  

"I forbid such a thing," he tells her, yet again acting as if he has any right to stop her from doing anything at all.  

"Morpheus, let me go and-" 

"No." He shakes his head in refusal. "It would be a foolish endeavor at the least and a likely deadly one at the worst. I will not allow it." 

"There are humans out there." 

"Yes," he drawls, as if that doesn't really matter to him. 

"And they're being murdered," she explains slowly, like he's a particularly dense student and she's a weary, completely frustrated teacher.

"Yes." 

He really doesn't seem to get why that's a bad thing. Fucking monosyllabic monster. "And I intend to go and help them." 

He raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and then opens it again to let out an annoyingly simple, "No." 

She rolls her eyes at him. "Not to sound like a five year old, but you're not the boss of me." 

"As you've made infuriatingly clear on many occasions." 

"Yeah? Maybe you should take a second to reflect on the reason as to why I keep having to make it infuriatingly clear." She goes to dart around him. "Now if you'll excuse me-" 

She loathes how much faster he is than her, as evidenced by how easily and quickly he's right back in her path, preventing her from leaving all over again. "No." 

"Are you serious with this?" she demands waspishly. 

"Need I remind you that you are currently powerless and with child. Our child," he supplies through gritted teeth. "I will not stand idly by while you run headfirst into danger." 

"Then what do you suggest we do? Just leave all those people to rot?" 

"If it ensures your survival, then yes."

For fuck's sake, if he says yes or no to her one more time in this conversation, she's going to hit him. "You sound like Desire, just so you know. Callous and cruel. I can really see the family resemblance right now." 

His eyes flare, the smoldering fire of a million galaxies within them burned to ash in his stare. His hands clench into fists at his side, like he's fighting the urge to snatch her up to him and shake her in a temper.  

"My sibling would leave you here to your fate were they in my place," he snarls, and the sheer fury in his tone equally pisses her off, terrifies her, and… kind of turns her on all at once. "And while I appreciate your attempt to shame me into protecting those mortals caught in this unfortunate happenstance, it will not prove successful. My responsibility is to you and the child you carry. No other." 

"I was just making an observation, not trying to shame you into anything," she says smoothly, even though it's a complete lie. She'd totally been trying to manipulate him into helping her. "But while we're on the subject of your siblings, Death would be absolutely disappointed in you for this." 

If looks could kill, she'd be nothing but a smoking pile of gooey remains where she stands. "My answer remains no." 

"Fine." 

He peers down at her, seemingly wary at her agreement. "And you will cease this bothersome persuasion at once." 

"Fine." She won't in reality, but he doesn't need to know that. If he's going to accuse her of being a liar as often as he does, then he has nobody to blame but himself when she plays the part.

He frowns, his forehead creasing in confusion. "You will engage in no foolishness once we step outside of this room."

Of course she will. There will be lots of what he deems foolishness when they leave here, and May's not even sorry for telling him any differently. "Fiiiiine." 

He purses his lips at her in a sign of displeasure. The monosyllabic moody bastard must not like the single word treatment either, which is good for her. Knowing that she's upsetting him almost draws a smile from her despite the shitstorm they're still in the middle of.  

"You are the single most contrary creature I've ever had the misfortune of knowing," he bites out, taking a hold of her arm as he begins forcibly pulling her to the door. Outraged, she struggles to wrest her limb from his, trying to yank away for all the good that it doesn't do her since his grip is as unyielding as iron shackles. 

"Cut it out," she growls. "If you'll remember, I don't like manhandling unless it's in a sexual context, so kindly fucking release me immediately." 

When he turns to glower at her, his gaze is still burning, still fiercely intense, but not in the way it had been earlier. With a start, she realizes that she might recognize that look, all wrath and lust and need told in the nightmare abyss of obsidian eyes. And despite that she's not sure that's really what it is, desire ignites within her, sending an unexpectedly heady rush of want thrumming through her veins with so much force that it's dizzying. She can see one of the veins running across his neck as its beat speeds up, and when he swallows, she can't help but to follow the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobs with the action.  

May squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head a little as if to clear it. What the hell is wrong with her? Pregnancy hormones aside, this is not the place for her ill-timed lust to be jumping up and down, screaming woo-hoo, and urging her to just do it, bitch. They're kind of under attack, and she really really needs to be focusing on that.  

"The… exit is to the left?" he questions, and his voice is oddly hoarse as if he's just as overwhelmed as she is by their strangely heated exchange, by the sudden change in tone of their argument from anger into arousal. Which is frankly ridiculous of her to even consider, since he's the one that decided they wouldn't be having sex anymore and all. 

"Y-Yeah."

"Very well.… We will…" He swallows again, and May forces herself not to stare at the column of his throat as he does so. "We will go."  

His hold on her arm gentles, becoming almost soft as their eyes meet. She draws in a shaky gulp of air, thinking for one wild moment that he means to kiss her, that he means to push her up against the wall and start something they very much shouldn't be engaging in here. Or anywhere, really, since they're broken up and everything.  

And then the door swings open.  

Morpheus doesn't waste a second in facing the threat and tugging her roughly behind him so that he's standing between her and whatever the hell is trying to get to her. May peeks out from around his shoulder, and she's surprised to see… well, a normal enough looking guy standing there. He's in black jeans and a black t-shirt, wearing a leather bomber jacket and boots to complete his ensemble. There's a mop of riotous, golden curls atop his head, and his lips curve into an almost charming smile.  

She'd call him handsome if not for the heavy darkness she can feel coming from him, if not for the way that the magic of him sets her teeth on edge. May doesn't like to judge. Not really. But given that he's exuding a creepy, sexual predator vibe and he's probably came to end her life, she doesn't think it makes her a bad person to refer to him as Asshole A in her head. 

"Apologies," he greets in a deep voice that irrationally makes her want to punch him. "Am I interrupting something? We've been listening to your entertaining domestic for some time."

Which, ouch. Embarrassing. And awkward as anything to know that someone else had been standing outside the room as they'd bickered like an old, married couple.

Four others take a place flanking this brand new adversary, the movement so seamless that May thinks it seems kind of choreographed, like they're all part of some ghoulish flash mob that's gonna bust into a dance number any second now. 

But Asshole A's performing arts goons aren't just people or makers. Oh, no. Things couldn't be that easy for them since the universe is obviously a salty bitch that hates May with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. Instead, these jerks are fierce warriors of a lost race, the kind of mythical creatures that many have forgotten even once existed, and obscenely expensive to hire if one has need of their services.  

"Dragons," May warns, pointing at the mob squad from Hell.  

"I am aware," Morpheus answers flippantly, as if it's no big deal to him that those four things near Asshole A could shift form into giant, fire-breathing beasts at any minute. Which, knowing what she does of his power, she supposes he probably isn't actually fazed by it at all. 

Hellhounds come padding up at the rear of the scouting party, and she's reminded of clown cars at the circus. How many unnerving things can one smarmy bastard fit into a doorway? She can't help but to think this guy is flexing his little collection of horrors in front of them, which is almost hilariously out of touch given that Morpheus is the literal King of Nightmares. 

Nonetheless, the hellhounds start closing the distance, making May more than a bit freaked out. Iridescent drool dribbles from their mouths, their snouts red-tinged with blood, and Morpheus pulls her more surely to him.  

"I see the rumors are true," Asshole A says, a feral grin tilting his lips up. "Our princess is clearly in whelp." 

May grimaces a little at that descriptor. Who actually calls it that anymore? Not that it truly matters, she supposes, because this jerk is about to get flattened for his arrogance. In front her her, Morpheus is deadly calm, deadly still, and from where she's pressed against his back, she can feel how tightly his muscles are coiled.  "Whom do I have the displeasure of addressing?" he demands icily.

Asshole A inclines his head slightly in a sort of mocking bow. "I am Viktor. Of the Bloodless Lands. But there is no need for you to introduce yourself, Dream of the Endless." 

And May hates his voice, hates the amused way he's regarding them as if being on the other end of Morpheus' fury is funny or something.  

"Why is it that you are hunting this woman?" Morpheus inquires, the sound of his words all honeyed threat, its timber smooth with the promise of lethality, and May recognizes it well as the tone he uses before readying himself to aim some good old-fashioned annihilation at an enemy.

Viktor raises one douchey eyebrow at the two of them. "Why is it that you stand in defense of her? Is it your child she carries, Dream of the Endless? Does that hybrid filth in her womb belong to you?"  

Honestly, May is pissed, which is a wholly understandable reaction in her humble opinion. She's about two seconds away from metaphorically stepping out of her imaginary high heels and taking off her damn nonexistent earrings to kick this fucker in the face. Hybrid filth? He did not just say that about her baby.  

But then of course, because all evil bastards have to have a freaky animal minion or two, another one of the hellhounds growls and snarls as it starts approaching them, its sharpened nails clicking ominously on the floor as it prowls closer.  

And while May might be furious, might be angry enough to visit physical violence on this jerk, she's really really not suicidal. And she'd have to be to even consider crossing paths with that thing, since it would assuredly make ribbons of her squishy, magic-less body in a matter of seconds. Instead of becoming a squeaky toy for the universe's most hideous canine, she tucks herself closer to her Endless ex and tugs on the sleeve of his coat. "Morpheus-" 

He holds out a hand, the gesture being his version of I've got this and kindly cease the words coming out of your mouth thing that irritates me to no end, and May doesn't need to be told twice as she shuts right up so he can concentrate. She's under no delusions that if one of them is going to drop the savage beasts inching nearer and nearer to them, then it's definitely going to be him.  

"Now that is impressive," Asshole A- sorry Viktor - observes almost… conversationally, like him and Morpheus are just two buddies sharing a pint at a local pub. "How ever have you trained her to follow your command? When last she was in my keeping, I could not stop her bothersome screams for the life of me. Even when I had her gagged, she still always managed to make an abundance of disagreeable noise." 

"Wait. What?" she protests. "I don't even know you." And she's a hundred percent sure of that. Because she'd absolutely remember this guy, this grinning jackass, if she'd ever had the misfortune of meeting him prior to this showdown. 

"You do not recall our time together, my little princess? It is a strange thing to forget, no?" 

My little princess. The words rip through her mind for some reason, tearing at it like a tornado might snatch up a house and smash it apart in its winds. My little princess. That voice. Why the hell is it suddenly so vaguely familiar?  

Her thoughts still, and there's a bright, glaring white cast over everything in her memory. May shakes her head, wondering what she'd been thinking about. Maybe… something about the bastard in front of her? Maybe something to do with the hellhounds? Maybe something about the way that Morpheus is urging her back behind the shelter of him so insistently.  

"Interesting," Viktor murmurs as his eyes rake over the small sliver of her left visible despite the shield that Morpheus has made of his body. His gaze on her makes her feel dirty for some reason. "I wonder what he did to accomplish such a thing." 

Accomplish what? And who? What the fuck is this guy talking about? She resolves herself not to pay too much attention to it, though. Evil villains have to do their evil monologues she guesses, and this guy seems like he's just trying to rile her up even more than she already is. Besides, Morpheus doesn't seem very curious about it either, so it must not be that important.  

"We will leave this place, Viktor of the Bloodless Lands. It is best that you do not attempt to hinder our departure." 

"Of course, Dream of the Endless," Asshole A- sorry, Viktor- allows with as much magnanimity as a king. "You are free to leave whenever you desire. But the traitorous whore must stay in my custody, I'm afraid." 

It's a declaration of war, a slap in the face with a white fucking glove, and May knows then that they're going to fight. Morpheus wastes no time in reacting as the hellhounds give a great bellow that withers off into a whine before they fall over and into unconsciousness, hopefully having the worst nightmares possible in their comatose state. The atoms in the air get heavy, dense with the weight of his power, and May's ears ring with it. Shadows roll through the area like thick plumes of sentient black smoke, creeping closer to Morpheus where they slowly unfurl as if to defend him, an army answering to the summons of its master.  

And as the wisps of it touch her skin, May is stricken with terror.  

It's like every nightmare she's ever had is hitting her all at once. In her mind's eye, she's falling from a tall cliff, her heart racing as the ground rushes faster and faster towards her, and May squeezes her eyes shut, trying to will the images away, trying to stem the flow of panic  overcoming her. It doesn't work, however, and instead the bad dreams seem to come faster, more intensely. 

(She's walking through what looks like a hallway, its walls made of spongy red flesh that thumps rhythmically, pulsating with the heartbeat of whatever creature's gullet she's ended up in. Digestive juices start to trickle in at her feat, the glistening liquid sizzling as it burns through her shoes, as it burns through the skin of her heels and toes. It hurts, the acid melting her where she stands, and when she glances up at the dull roar of gushing that she hears, she sees a great wave of the goop flowing towards her. She spins to run, to get away, but she ends up slipping instead, falling face first into a caustic puddle that dissolves part of her nose….)

Makers magic crackles in the air, cerulean blue and luminous where it stretches out through Morpheus' shadows, tearing at them in the way that lightning would split a pitch black sky.

(A beast, lethal and strong with leathery, wide-spanned wings and rippling ebony fur, tackles her to the ground with enough physical force to knock the air from her lungs. It stinks of death and rotting meat as it tears into her throat, grinning from atop her as its razor-fanged maw drips rivulets of blood from the pointed tips of its teeth.  

"My little princess," it croons, its stifling breath foul on her face. She screams, and it sinks its claws into the meat of her cheek, dragging them across it in the blink of an eye as it easily shreds the flesh down to her jawbone…. )

She clenches the fabric of Morpheus' coat, holding onto him as if to anchor herself despite that the energy he's exuding burns hot like fire against her palm and fingertips.

(She's in a dungeon, trapped there. Her frail, bird-thin body aches and throbs with pain. She glances down at herself, taking in the blood coating her thighs, the bruises covering her, and the arm hanging limply at her side. Everything on her hurts in some way or another, makes her feel hollow and dirty. Defiled.  

"She put up a fight," one of her jailers jokes, and fury swells within May, a need for vengeance, for wrath, rising inside of her so swiftly that she almost dry heaves what little food she has in her stomach right then and there. "Ol' Viktor must like that kind of thing, though, mustn't he? I cannae tell ya how many corpses I've dragged from tha' chamber o' his."  

Her other captor sighs as if his coworker is especially irritating. "That's not it, Raelish. Not with her, anyway. He's got to solidify his rule, hasn't he? And what better way to do that than bonding himself with an heir to the throne."  

Realization dawns like a blast wave cresting a hill after a sun's explosion, and she begins to tremble in her apprehension, in the dread of what her future might hold….)

It's too much. The pressure of power, of the nightmares, is suffocating, overcoming her as she leans her forehead against Morpheus' back. He goes rigid at the touch, and May knows then and there that she would beg him, plead with him to make the torrent of terror stop if only she had words, if only she could voice anything at all. But she can't speak, can't even utter a sound as the fear of everything in her head swallows up her ability to think, to breathe.  

A fresh bout of dizziness hits her, and her knees buckle at its onslaught as she tightens her grip on Morpheus in a determined attempt to keep herself upright. She can't pass out. Not now. This would be the worst time and place for that, and May refuses to let her body overrule her common sense on this matter. A whistling shriek whirs right by her head, the well-aimed blast of a battle spell coming so close to her that it mutes her hearing into a low roar. Her vision starts to waver in and out, and May finds that she hates herself for this weakness, for this feebleness that makes her feel like nothing but a liability. 

Not that she has long to ruminate on this self-loathing, however, because between one heartbeat and the next, she's crumpling to the ground in a dead faint. 

And when she falls unconscious, she's thrust into her dreams. Or more appropriately, her nightmares.  

She's in a desert, the sun blaring down  and a pile of kindling arranged around her. Orange and yellow flames spread out over her body, climbing up her ankles and legs and torso until they're scorching along her shoulders. She opens her mouth to scream, to make any noise she can, but it's useless. Her throat is so very dry, the smoke choking her as it rises from the blazing inferno that's currently consuming her physical form.  

She almost cries in relief when the door appears.  

It's smaller than she remembers, and the ornate carving around its frame seems somewhat faded, but May still thinks it's the loveliest thing she's ever seen in her life. It's a chance to get out of this, to escape. However, it's not pulling her at the moment like it usually does, as if it's too weakened to do such a thing, and it gives her pause.  

She hesitates, because she doesn't know what will happen if she goes through it. Will the dark magic cast over her in the Waking register this as a shift through realms? Will it shatter her if she flees this way? Can she really afford to care as agony creeps over her awareness like the heat of the fire burning her alive? 

May takes the chance. She reaches out and grasps the handle, twisting it open as water rushes over her. It's cool on her skin, washing away the remnants of the nightmare as May steps through to the other side and finds herself in the sea. Adrenaline propels her to kick her legs out and swim for the surface, hopeless though she knows it will be. If Morpheus doesn't come and get her, if he doesn't rescue her, then she's assuredly going to drown.  

The light filtering in through the dark waves above her gets brighter, fuller despite that May isn't overly optimistic of it meaning anything. Maybe she's just able to get closer to the top now from practice or something, because fuck knows she's spent enough of her time trying to free herself from this watery grave in the past month or so. And that's why she's as shocked as anyone when her head emerges from the water and she's drawing in large gasps of breath, filling her lungs with it like a desperate woman.  

She floats amidst the expanse of rippling waves, thoroughly confused as to how she'd made it out of there before she feels Morpheus' solid arm wrap around her waist and tug her into his warmth.  

"How?" he asks, his voice rough, his expression wary as he pulls her the six or so feet to where the steps for the pier manifest on command. He appears anxious to get her out of there, so anxious that he hasn't yet bothered to dry his hair or mend the small bruise on his angular cheek. He must have been hit with one of those maker's spells, and while it probably didn't do him any damage whatsoever, May is all too aware of how much those damn things sting.  

"I don't… I don't know." It's the truth. She has no idea why she'd been able to swim to the surface today, but something tells her that it might not be anything good.  

Her legs feel like jello when she tries to get them underneath her, and Morpheus allows her to lean on him as she walks, slow and steady to the beautiful structure of wood only feet above them.  

"Permit me to carry you," he suggests, and May stubbornly shakes her head. She's already proven herself enough of a burden today without Morpheus having to pick her up, without him having to lift her into his arms like a bridegroom might a new bride before readying to cross the threshold of their home together for the first time.  

"No… I've got this. I'm… I'm fine." 

But she's not fine. She'd have to be an idiot to be fine. May falls to her knees on the wood planks at the top of the stairs, and Morpheus surprisingly goes down beside her, albeit much more gracefully than she had.  

Even more shocking is that he circles her in his arms, refusing to release her from this mimicry of their past, when it was second nature for him to tenderly embrace her. May wants to be strong, wants to pull away from the solace he's offering, but she can't. Instead, she curls up against him as her body shakes with the chill, her fingertips and toes tingling painfully from it, and Morpheus responds by tightening his hold of her. 

"Shhh," he urges as if to soothe her, and she very distantly realizes that she's crying, letting out big hiccuping sobs into the fabric of his shirt where her face is pressed against his chest. "You are safe." 

And damn does she want to believe him. She doesn't think she's ever wanted to believe anything so much in her entire life, even though she can't place much credence in his words at the moment. She knows the truth. His comfort is just a lie, one of many he's given her. The idea of safety isn't possible, more fairytale for her than it could ever be fact. She'll never be free from the threat of those bastards coming for her, never be free from having to spend her days running like an animal. And she's going to bring a child into that? She's going to curse a kid by dropping it into a situation where it's always at risk, where it always knows fear, always knows the unsettling truth of how one day, suspicion might be the only thing that will keep it alive.

She'll have to teach it that suspicion, have to teach it to walk into places and make escape plans, to watch everyone around them for signs that they might be out to trap them. She'll have to teach it to be afraid. 

May thinks at that moment that she's… she's a monster.  

How could she be stupid enough to let herself get knocked up? And by Morpheus at that? He doesn't care for her beyond the unfortunate circumstance of her being pregnant. And she's the moron who's going to have a baby with him? What the actual fuck had she been thinking? 

In a daze of self-denigration, May untangles herself from him, sniffling as she firmly orders herself to stop crying. All of her feels numb now in a way that has nothing to do with the freezing cold water he'd just helped her out of.  

Morpheus regards her strangely, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny, and May can't stand the sight of him in the moment, all falsely concerned and caring. She's horrified and regretful and so damned ashamed of herself for what she's done. Being a semi-intelligent, mostly mature entity, she's all too aware of the fact that she's fled from one enemy only to end up on the doorstep of another, only to end up in his arms even. And she shouldn't do that, shouldn't let herself forget for even a second that Morpheus could be just as much of a danger as those assholes hunting her. 

"I can't do this. I need… I need to get back to Viego." 

He appears reluctant to grant her this, appears as if he will haul her back into his embrace despite the distance she's attempting to make. "Very well," he says at last with a small nod. "I must ensure that he is not under attack, and then if you still wish it, I will return you to him."   

Her heart stutters in apprehension at the thought of Viego being cornered by that scouting party, at the thought of him fighting them off on his own. He's powerful, sure, but he would also be horrendously outnumbered. Her stomach swoops alarmingly. "Please don't… don't leave him alone," she pleads, despising the meek smallness of her voice. "If he… If he's caught in it, please don't let him… die." 

Morpheus hesitates for only a minute. "I will see to his safety," he finally grants like a king who's answering a petition by bestowing a great boon, his tone so very gentle that May's eyes fill with tears anew. "As you… ask of me." 

"Thank you." And she means it, sure as she is that he doesn't have to do a thing for her, that he's probably just trying to calm her down now for the sake of his baby in her belly.  

"Allow me to take you to the palace while you wait for me to manage this task," he requests. "It is… cold here, and you are chilled through." 

She doesn't want to go there, doesn't want to be around her almost-home and all the bittersweet memories of it. Not today. Not with the way her emotions already feel flayed and raw. She crosses her arms over her chest, forcing herself not to shiver. "I'll just… stay here if that's okay. I don't… really feel up to the… to visiting your home." 

He doesn't look angry, doesn't look upset. If she had to describe him as anything in the moment, it would be almost… sad. Slightly defeated even. But that would be ridiculous of her, wouldn't it? After all, he'd been the one to toss her out in the first place, the one to sever ties with her and declare them over. 

His power brushes over her, and while she almost flinches at the feel of it, she's left blessedly dry, blessedly uninjured in its wake. There's a thick blanket that he's obviously manifested around her shoulders, a cozy thing that she wants to burrow into as she drifts off to sleep. He takes a handful of the material in each hand and pulls it closer together, wrapping her more surely in its warmth. "If you will not go to the palace, then please keep this on. It will… prevent you from freezing." 

"I mean, I've already burned alive today, so there would be a certain symmetry to becoming a popsicle after that, I guess," she murmurs, a poor attempt to tease that falls flat if his frowning, sorrowful expression is any indication. "I won't… take it off," she agrees, the least she can give him in return since he's going to possibly help Viego on her behalf. 

Seemingly satisfied with her capitulation, he casts one more worried frown at her before he shifts away, disappearing to presumably check on her brother. And when he's gone, May buries her face in her hands and tries not to think about how she would give anything to know the peace, the easy contentment that she'd had mere months ago. 

She forces even the thoughts of it away, though, because in reality she's never going to have that again, and it's really best if she just goes ahead and accepts it. 

NEXT CHAPTER

Tag List: @julesandro @cozystorynook

If anyone else wants to be added to the taglist, let me know! I hope you all enjoyed this! <3

[koalaforlife]

Happy Birthday, Hange Zoë

This is a story of how Hange became one of my favorite characters now after so long, and how I think they are one of the most underrated characters, always pushed aside (probably due to a lack of an emotional backstory and lack of the relatability factor). 

For starters, I will note that I will most likely end up referring to them as she/her because in my mind (thanks to the anime), I can’t help but see this character as a female and honestly, I’ve been struggling for Idk, all my life? to find a female character in any media that ticks all the boxes for me (I have plenty of ultimate faves in terms of male characters instead) and to my utmost surprise now, I think Hange just might be the one so allow me to fulfil my long-time desire of finding a great female character that I can call my ultimate favorite.

Also, it's important to mention that for the longest time, my favorite AoT characters had been Levi (ultimate bias) with Erwin coming in a veeeery close second. 

Let me start with the beginning. When I first saw her in the first season of SnK, the exaggerated reactions that were meant to be comic relief only made this “mad/obsessed” character more cringe to me. Not to say I hated them, I just…got second-hand embarrassment from watching them. I didn’t quite get a good grasp of the character and probably like 90% of the fandom, I just saw them as just another character fading in and out of the background, that at times helps the plot advance with some new bits of info.

Then, at some point, I probably saw some cool scenes of them that gave me a pleasant surprise (eg. when she threatens to push Pastor Nick off the wall) but as I was getting distracted by other, more impactful and shocking scenes, I wouldn’t really think much of it and I didn’t actually use them to form a full character portrait/depiction in my mind. These scenes, few and far between, were forgotten in the end.

When I became a more active reader and passionate fan, about 4 years ago I would say, somehow I ended up learning about the pair LeviHan, and it really won me over with their dynamics. Whether people choose to ship them romantically or not, there is nothing that can deny the fact that they had a special friendship in canon AoT. 

In any case, to my shame, I have to admit I started paying attention to Hange because of that ship, and though I didn’t realize it at that time, I liked her for the most part because of that ship. So basically, I liked her because of my favorite character, Levi. Of course, I still liked the legendary trio, Erwin, Hange, Levi, but again, I don’t think I was that attached to her as a singular character.

Soon after, I dropped out of fandom when the manga took a really weird turn for me. I started disliking it and it went on for a while. I lost my hope in it getting any better. I don’t know why it affected me THIS much but I can only assume it had something to do with my mental state back then. 

Now, after almost 4 years, I reprised the manga and watched the final season of the anime. I felt differently, way more tolerant and accepting of whatever direction the story was going to take. And I can’t say I am unhappy with it, I just think that certain parts seemed like cliches and overused tropes, which is not very characteristic of Isayama, but oh well. I think the poor man was exhausted and wanted to finish it asap, and I can’t blame him. 

Speaking of mental health, a few months back I had gone through a major shift where I started thinking more positively overall. I think this is important to mention because it’s probably why I also saw Hange with such different eyes this time. 

And, I think this is also why I finally got ready to read the rest of the manga, despite knowing she dies. That was the only spoiler I got, and when I first heard it years ago, I was “disappointed, but not surprised” - at that time like I said, I had lost all hope in the manga. And once again, I had felt more sad about it because of Levi, who’s lost everyone he cared for deeply and who understood him. Once again, I had failed to see Hange as a singular character with massive importance in the story, instead of just a convenient accessory to Levi. 

So why is this character important? There are many reasons why she was integral to the story, and inspirational to us readers, so I will try to summarize all that.

1. Open-mindedness

I don’t think most people remember (I know I didn’t) how she was the only one who first tried to challenge our perspective on titans. 

For decades, we've tried to fight the Titans with hatred in our hearts. I want to try and see them from a different angle than the current norm.

Call it maybe foreshadowing, or just Isayama trying hard to come up with a unique, arguably crazy character (that’s what I thought at the time), but when you think about it, it’s something that was desperately needed. When you don’t understand and know something, try to look at it from a different point of view. When you are afraid of something and the situation is dire, try to dare to hope there might be something good in it.

Armin: They decided we're devils without knowing our intentions? Why won't they consider a path of peace?

Mikasa: I think...because they don't know. They fear us because they don't know what we are.

Hange: That's right. They won't trust people whose faces they haven't seen. So let's meet 'em! If you don't understand something, go figure it out! Isn't that what we Scouts do?

That positivity, openness, and exuberance shines throughout most of the scenes we get with Hange in the first season, and when things get serious in Season 2, we also get a glimpse of their duality: though they were someone that faced titans with excitement, they were not to be messed with when it came to protecting people.

2. Humanity  / Emotional Intelligence

That duality becomes more apparent in Season 3, where we see them shine on their own. And btw, one of my kinks in this season/arc was the fact that the OP, goated trio, EruRiHan, were each on their own having to call the shots and contribute to the team’s success with little to no communication at times. Fills my heart with warm fuzzy feels and pride :D Anyway back to Hange. :D 

Hange displays some nice people skills as she is trying to tie the “reputation” loose end and clear their names and seek answers, truth, and justice, by collaborating with Flegel, Roy, and Beaure.

Some notable quotes here are the following:

[speech to flegel] Well, you have a point. The thing is, that doesn't sound like living to me. Look at it this way, Flegel. Instead of scampering around like a scared little mouse your whole life, wouldn't you rather face up to your enemy, even if it means risking your life--?

and one of my most favorites,

“What are you talking about? Defeat is all the Survey Corps have ever known. (said with a fucking sunshine on their face, because they are literal sunshine)

And when all is cleared up,

Levi: Looks like the gamble paid off.

Hange: Yeah. It wasn't just Erwin though. The lone choices of many managed to change the world.

This sentence  just made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside because it sounds inspirational to me: it's the small things we can all do that help shape the world, and it's not just the more inspirational, brave, and special people that bring change, it's all of us.

If for some reason the previous scenes weren’t enough to see what an empathetic and people-oriented person she was (eg. when she tries to befriend Eren, Levi and his friends, when she gives Sasha a potato as thanks, when she admits she wasn’t going to harm Pastor Nick, and was visibly disturbed by his death)….well this line I think perfectly shows how Hange encompasses teamwork, people’s unity, compassion, friendship. 

3. Mental Strength

However, at the same time, they are not afraid to get their hands dirty. Just like pretty much every relevant character in this story, they have to kill (or torture) to survive or to help humanity. That ability to know what needs to be done and get it done comes with a certain life experience and maturity that a lot of our main characters still have to achieve, which is probably why Hange gets overlooked as she already is a matured, developed character for the most part of the story, who doesn’t really need to make any life-altering decisions that shape their personality in one way or another.

But for me, that was a plus, actually. Don’t get me wrong, I love Armin’s growth, Conny’s development, Reiner and Annie’s inner conflicts, Historia’s whole arc, and some other minor character developments (Sasha and Ymir). But I can’t help but admire Hange now when I look at a more complete picture: a person with love for knowledge and love for life, but with a feral instict and strength to protect that same thing she loves - the lives of innocent people and the access to truth and knowledge.

There are people I want to bring back, too. Hundreds of them. I've had to say farewell since the day I joined the Scouts. But...You know, don't you? No matter who it is, there comes a day to say farewell. I know it's impossible, but you have to accept this. There will be times you can't keep your sanity. It's tough. Very tough. I know. Even so, we have to keep moving forward. 

4. Honesty and Accountability

Hange is blunt ("I agree. I thought it should've been used on Erwin...") and always takes responsibility for her decisions especially when she knows it might affect someone's mental state. ("The decision was mine. You were just a factor."/"I said the decision was mine."). I don't think people appreciate how important this is.

5. Flaws

When she gets overwhelmed with politics, responsabilities, and stress, and overpowered by the Jagerists, it is almost humiliating to see her cuffed and rendered useless, unable to do anything but follow the stronger ones. You can see how she slowly realizes that this surpasses her abilities to tackle the politics and the grim reality that the world most likely wants them dead. Defeated, she says

Erwin, you only made one mistake in your life. Why did you make me a commander?

I am sure some people would agree with her, but honestly, I disagree. First, there was literally no better option. Second, Erwin had an ability to see, understand, and manipulate people. If he nominated her, he must have believed in her enough, just as he believed in Levi and Armin when he entrusted them with crucial tasks. And third, some may argue that Erwin would have handled the situation better. But while Erwin might have probably been less stressed and overwhelmed with the political discussions, the reality would still be the same, and he would have had to work with the same equations and factors: world wants them dead, eren doesn’t want to sacrifice historia, eren wants the rumbling, what’s there to do? what could have Erwin done better in these circumstances? 

This new side of Hange’s character is really sad, but it makes her relatable in my opinion. I know a lot of people find other characters relatable instead, but for me this part right here speaks more to me than others. This sort of impostor syndrome (which Armin also suffers from), and the clear showcase of a character’s flaws and failures for the first time (when did we see Hange fail before?), all these things bring her down from the sort of “great character with no mistakes” pedestal and make her seem more like…us.

How many times did we not get some huge responsibility that we felt we were not good enough for, and doubted ourselves? Be it a project at work, leading a team, parenting, or even simple things like not being good enough at some hobby that you want to pursue, or good enough to be in a relationship with someone. These doubts are human and okay to have, and there's nothing wrong with that, but...

6. Resilience 

But what’s important is to keep moving forward and do your best, do whatever you can to change the outcome for the better, and if you fail, don’t go too hard on yourself. Hange knew that she did all she could, and she kept moving forward, even though she felt so down at times and almost as if she wanted to give up. 

Looks like my turn has come...even though I thought I did the right thing. Times change and you end up in a cell....What do you say we live out here, forever?

[a few moments later]

Levi: There's no way in hell you can stay out of the action.

Hange: Yeah, I can't. (bittersweet smile)

She does what she does best: she moves forward. She saves Levi and nurses him back to health, risking both of their lives in the process (I guess she was possessed by Erwin’s gambling spirit? :D or she was just THAT determined to ensure their survival). She seeks to form an alliance with the remaining survivors, including the Marleyans. 

In the forest scene, you could say that she is the one presiding over them, and the funny thing is, she does it while cooking dinner. It’s kind of symbolic if you ask me, as food is crucial to our survival, but it’s also something that brings people together. 

7. Integrity

One of the most powerful quotes in my opinion, is this one

I’ll be damned before we justify genocide somehow.

[manga: There is nothing anyone can say to change my mind about that.]

It really showcases her determination to save human lives and a core belief that makes her just more admirable in my opinion: genocide is wrong.

But I'm sure none of them would have been so selfish as to say..."as long as the island has freedom, that's all that matters."

Her demise is so characteristic of her - she’d always been fascinated with titans, but that never stopped her from killing them in order to survive and to save people’s lives. Her goodbye words to Levi and that lovely chuckle of hers once again reminded us of that familiar “all sunshine and rainbows” energy she always had. And then she fell like a burning star. 

The music choice couldn’t have been more perfect. I admit I didn’t even remember this song before, but now it’s one of my all-time favorites, and I can’t help but feel all kinds of bittersweet and nostalgic when I hear it now.

Hange is now my favorite character, up there with Levi, and irrespective of Levi and their relationship. I love her because to me she is relatable, because she encompasses pure things such as willingness to understand and accept things and people she doesn’t know, exuberance, love for life, and curiosity. I love her because of her duality- both flawed and strong, both sweet and menacing, and I love her because she never loses her integrity as a human being. Hange brought more to the story than most of us think, she wasn’t just comic relief or a vessel to share information about the lore, she brought our beloved characters together and nurtured them, and she was the embodiment of what the Survey Corps represented: exploration, understanding, and bravery. If Erwin was the mastermind that pushed them forward, and Levi the one that protected them the most, I like to think Hange was the glue that kept them together, and kept them going with her positivity and passion for life.

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 20 ~ Surprise surprise

Hidden Depths

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Also on ao3

Genre: Fantasy whump

CW’s: not much really. brief mention of a minor character death? huh. congrats y’all. welcome to the first chapter I’ve posted here with no warnings :’) 

WC: 3046

In which there are a few surprises... shocker with that title, right?

AN: Really, in which I should've foreshadowed a certain something but never could figure out how exactly to pull it off. So, uh. That's why posting as you write is considered a first draft, yeah?

This is a bit of a filler chapter, I suppose, but I felt it was necessary so here you go. As a reward, you get some new curses from Carr. Enjoy lol.

Carr

Carr didn’t find Resh at the top of the hill. 

She spent what felt like hours searching every dip, every patch of shrub and undergrowth, growing increasingly worried as the light started to fade. It would be pitch-black in this forest long before the sun actually dipped below the horizon. 

Occasionally, she’d call out to Orla, less and less concerned about a bandit overhearing as there seemed to be nothing and no one around them. Birds and bugs and small animals began making their little noises again, which she took as a good sign. She thought. Wilderness wasn’t exactly her specialty. 

Small scratches and welts criss-crossed her exposed arms and hands, itchy, irritated evidence of her search efforts. 

Every time she climbed out of one hollow, she told herself he would be in the next. 

Or the next.

Or the next. 

“Are you done with this fruitless search yet?” a low, masculine voice asked. 

Shit! Who the fuck was that, and how hadn’t she noticed them? So much for the sounds of nature warning her. She crouched in the fucking thorn bush she’d been looking under, withdrawing her daggers. 

A man stepped out from behind a massive tree on the other side of the path, dressed in black from head to toe, and pushed a hand through thinning, light brown hair. 

Wait. Was that– 

“Brant? The fuck are you doin here?” Carr asked incredulously. She couldn’t think of one godsdamned reason Nykim’s second would be here, in the fucking forest so far from the city. 

He gave her a look. The same one he shot the vermin back home when they’d fucked up, insinuating with his glare just how fucking dead they’d be if they’d tried whatever they’d done anywhere else.

“You telling me you didn’t know I’ve been following you since you left? Seriously?” 

Carr gaped, her mind automatically circling back around. She’d been a little too concerned about other things to pay that much attention–hadn’t thought she needed to. Shit, how much did Brant know? She hadn’t been binding her chest; it was uncomfortable as fuck when they just sat around in a carriage most of the time. Did it even matter if he did know? 

Brant shook his head and crossed the path. He extended a hand, which Carr just stared at, confused. 

“I’m disappointed you didn’t notice, Carr. Now take my damned hand unless you want to continue slicing yourself up getting out of those thorns on your own.” 

Her heart actually sank at the criticism until she remembered she wasn’t fucking vermin anymore. She sheathed her knives and slapped her palm in Brant’s hand with more force than was strictly necessary. 

“Don’t give a fuck,” she muttered as Brant bodily lifted her out of the thorn bush. Show off. “You gonna answer my question?” 

Brant ignored her, crossing his muscular arms while she brushed herself off. “I know where the bandit camp is. They got the boy, if that’s who you’re looking for.” He scratched his head at that. “Although, wasn’t there a little girl with you?” 

Fuck, Orla. Carr gave Brant a sideways glance and rushed over to where she’d climbed up. It was getting late, and the ravine was pretty shadowed. Luckily, she didn’t have to look far, as the girl was already halfway up the hill. The fuck–how was she doing that? 

Sweating a little–the fall from the girl’s current height would not be pleasant–Carr reached out with earth… only to find that Orla was already using the element herself. Huh. Carr rocked back on her heels, realizing only then that she had no clue what elemental abilities Resh’s sister possessed. Well, she knew one now, anyway. 

When Orla got close enough, Carr grasped her hand and helped her the rest of the way up. 

“Anything?” Orla gasped, hunching over her knees. 

Instead of answering–because what she was doing was answer enough, wasn’t it?–Carr turned back to Brant. 

“You saw him?” She thought her knees might buckle when Brant nodded, but she locked them and took a deep breath. “Take me there. Now.”

“Carr–”

“Don’t ‘Carr’ me,” she snapped. 

Brant stepped into her space, snarling as he glared down at her. “I still outrank you. Don’t interrupt.” 

She backed down for a moment, the response ingrained after a decade of following the pack’s chain of command. But then her gaze sharpened. “I’m not part of the pack anymore. You can’t outrank me. Take. Me. To. Him.” 

“I won’t get in the way,” Orla’s soft voice interrupted. 

Carr twisted at the same time as Brant, the pair of them peering at the child they’d already forgotten. Fuck. 

“You’re gonna need backup,” Brant said, stepping back. “There’s too many, is what I wanted to tell you before you started ordering me around. Could send her.” 

“Is there even a town close enough for that? A town, mind you, with a fuckin guard.” Carr scrubbed her hands over her face. Shit, could she even send the girl? By herself? 

“There is,” he said slowly, like he didn’t think she’d like the answer. Paper crinkled as Nykim’s second pulled a map out of his pocket and held it under one of the last beams of dying light. 

Orla and Carr crowded around him. 

“Here.” Brant pointed to a triangle with a name over it that Carr couldn’t yet read beyond its initial letter. “We’re about half a day’s ride from the forest’s edge, and Hallin is roughly a day’s ride from there.” 

He was right–she didn’t like it. 

“That’s three days turnaround, and that’s if they come right away, no questions asked.” Carr sighed. “I can’t wait that long, Brant. I won’t.”

“You will if you don’t want to die.” Brant folded up the map and glared at her, but she just pursed her lips, so he turned to Orla. 

“Hello there. My name’s Brant. I work… used to work with Carr.”

“Nice to meet you,” Orla said primly, looking at him like he was daft. 

Carr snorted. “Pretty sure she’s figured that out already. Kid’s smart like that. Saw me talkin instead of stabbin, you know?” 

He cleared his throat. “Alright then. Guess the real question is, can she ride?” 

They both turned to look at her. Shit, she was a city kid. On top of that, she would’ve been… what, nine or something when she’d lost everything? Carr had no idea how long she’d been ill prior to that. She held her breath, watching as the girl considered. 

“Not very well,” Orla finally admitted, wringing her hands together. “The queen… she wanted me to learn to ride like a lady. I had a couple of lessons, but…” 

“It’s okay,” Carr said, but the girl’s eyes welled anyway. 

Shit. How did one comfort a child? Most people liked to be touched, Carr had noticed, so she reached out and placed her hand on top of Orla’s soft brown curls. 

The tears overflowed, tracking silently down the girl’s face while she stared up at Carr with her big doe eyes. 

Oh no. She’d fucked it up. Carr snatched her hand back and turned to Brant; he dealt with the vermin–maybe he knew? But the man just shrugged, looking about as freaked out as she felt. Great. 

While she was trying to think of something, thin arms wrapped around Carr’s waist, about stopping her heart. 

Just Orla, Carr told her rapid heartbeat, holding her hands awkwardly off to the side to give the girl room. 

Resh’s sister promptly buried her head in Carr’s chest, her shoulders shaking. Everything was catching up with her, most like. Brant started pantomiming behind her, but Carr was already moving, placing one hand on the girl’s head and the other around her shoulders. A hug. She should’ve thought of that to start. 

“I’m sorry,” Orla babbled into her shirt, her voice muffled by the fabric. “I’m in the way, I-I can’t go for help, I’m…” Great gulping sobs cut off the rest of what she was trying to say. 

“Shhh,” Carr said, stroking her hair stiffly. What did you say to something like that? Orla was in the way. Everything she said was true, but it wasn’t her fault. She was just a kid. 

She was only twelve. Of course, at twelve, Carr had been anything but a kid. She wasn’t truly sure she’d ever had the chance to be one; kinda hard when one scrounged on the streets for years before joining a pack at the tender age of ten. But she’d heard the saying before and was pretty sure it applied to someone like Orla. Someone who’d grown up with people who loved them, someone who’d never hurt another person in their life. Someone innocent. 

Brant bent to pluck a stem of grass, the movement catching Carr’s eye as he stuck it in his mouth and chewed, appearing deep in thought.

“Whatcha thinkin?” Carr swayed gently from side to side, still holding Orla, who stiffened at her question. 

“You could ride to Hallin with the kid,” Brant said, “fetch help while I keep an eye on the camp.” 

Carr scoffed. “You’re insane if you think I’m leavin. You take Orla to Hallin, and I’ll keep an eye on the camp.” An eye, and a hand, and a dozen knives, maybe, but he didn’t need to know that. 

He raised a skeptical eyebrow, proving that he probably already did know that. What the fuck ever. 

“How about… we go check out the camp before we make any decisions.”  

It was Carr’s turn to raise an eyebrow. 

“We won’t get close enough for the girl to be in any danger. Just close enough for you to see what a shit idea it is to do anything before the guard gets here,” Brant continued, twirling the grass stem in his fingers, one end chewed down to a nub. 

Orla’s crying had quieted, but she still hadn’t released Carr’s middle. She appeared to be listening, her muscles taut with tension. 

It–wasn’t the worst idea. Carr sighed and nodded. “Fine. But then you take her and go.” 

Brant flicked the stem away. “Follow me.” 

~~~

Carr stared down into what should’ve been nothing more than a fly-infested piss trap and cursed under her breath. 

Brant was a godsdamn cumguzzling cockweasel. But he was also right. 

That didn’t mean she had to like it. Son of a buggering fuckbag. Fucking shit. 

They’d left Orla several yards behind them with the horse. Still within eyesight–or what was left of it anyway, with the rapid approach of nightfall–but marginally safer than creeping in on the boundaries of the bandit’s camp. 

Camp, hah. 

A full-ass fucking village was more like it. 

Maybe it had once been a camp, set up on the banks of a small lake in a clearing at the base of two tree-covered hills. The forest surrounded the clearing on all sides; anyone who didn’t know this was here would stumble into the open area and find themselves surrounded by the resident bandits… and their families? 

There were still plenty of tents set up. But there were also a few cabins, with evidence of more being built. These bandits were turning this place into a permanent camp. 

Because of course they were. Godsdamned cuntknuckles. She clenched her hands into fists, stewing inside. 

“So,” Brant said softly from where he crouched beside her, “are you still eager to go storming into this place, or will you wait for backup?” 

A noncommittal grunt was Carr’s only answer as she scrubbed a hand over her face, wincing as her fingers brushed over the cut on her brow. Fuck. 

She sensed more than saw Brant roll his eyes. 

“The kid and I need to leave. You should find a place to rest–you’ll need more light to case the place properly.” 

She grunted again, an affirmation behind the sound, and began picking her way through the brush back to Orla, Brant following her lead. Some light still fell on the bandit’s valley, but beneath the trees were nothing but ever-deepening shadows. 

“Did you see him?” Orla whispered when they got closer. “Is he okay?” 

Carr wrinkled her nose. “No. Actually…” She turned, squinting at Brant as he rose and strode towards his horse. “How do you know Resh is in the camp?” 

The horse whinnied as Brant stroked the animal’s muzzle, and it began nuzzling at the second’s pockets. He pulled a root vegetable out, allowing the horse to snatch it from his palm. 

“After you crashed, I hung back while the bandits found a way down into that ravine and raided the remains of your carriage. They already had Resh slung over one of their horses; he was unconscious but had to be alive, or why would they bother? Then I trailed them to that valley before I returned to see how you had fared. He’s in there somewhere. In what state, I couldn’t say.” 

There was a strange buzzing in Carr’s ears; she shook her head violently, trying to get rid of it, which only served to disorient her. Gods. Squeezing her eyes closed, she crouched and rubbed her aching temples. This wasn’t happening again. Why was this happening again? Hadn’t he been through enough? 

Her world narrowed to the tightness of her throat, her wildly beating heart, her breath sawing in and out in short bursts. Stars burst behind her closed eyelids, and she… she didn’t have time for this. Couldn’t panic like this in front of Brant and Orla. So she forced herself to hold her next breath, letting it out slowly, counting in her head. 

After a moment, she stood back up, feeling light-headed but steady. Steady enough, anyway. “Hit my head,” she said by way of explanation, feeling the way their gazes lingered on her. 

Brant’s expression was skeptical, but he played along. “You aren’t in top form after that crash. Be careful and don’t do anything stupid. Your lover won’t thank you if you get captured or killed trying to rescue him.” 

“Not my lover,” Carr automatically said, but her gut clenched at the denial. He wasn’t–but he was something. Something she had no name for. 

“Sure.” The sarcasm was thick in Brant’s voice, but he turned away to help Orla into the saddle, encouraging her to ride astride rather than sidesaddle. After some protests over the way her skirts rode up to her thighs, Brant got her comfortable and then took the reins in hand. 

“Take care of her,” Carr said sharply as he started walking away, guiding the horse. 

There was a barely visible nod and a wave from Orla before they disappeared into the false twilight beneath the canopy. 

Carr’s stomach twisted as she crept back onto the ledge they’d used to spy on the bandit’s camp. She’d study the place for a little longer, then find someplace safe to rest for a few hours. 

~~~

The next morning found Carr back where she’d started, munching on some sweetroots found using elemental earth and rinsed in a stream on her way there. 

What she witnessed in the bandit camp as she watched their early morning activity made no sense. 

A light-haired woman with a babe strapped to her back made rounds of the tents and cabins, carrying a large basket that appeared to grow heavier and heavier. When she’d nearly finished, a large man dressed in patchwork leathers approached and snatched the basket from her arms, carrying it down to the shore of the lake, the woman appearing to scold him from behind. He put the basket down, then pulled her into an embrace, kissing her, then the babe before taking his leave. 

The night watch filtered in from the fringe of the forest surrounding the camp, joking with their yawning replacements. 

Several more children appeared, some playing, some helping as men and women alike began working around the valley. There were several small patches of land where it looked like they were growing crops. What looked like a fucking blacksmith fired up a forge. Over to the side was a lean-to serving as a stable for several horses, some of whom were being brushed down while the others roamed a fenced-in portion of the valley, grazing. 

The place looked idyllic. Carr wouldn’t have realized it was a bandit camp if she hadn’t known in advance. 

But these fuckers were bandits. They’d attacked them, uncaring if any of the people they were robbing survived. The carriage driver certainly hadn’t; Carr had caught sight of his body while searching for Resh. 

They’d taken Resh. 

Why? She couldn’t figure it out. Why would they take an outsider into this community they were trying to build and maintain, risking its security? 

Her eyes darted around the camp, noting small details here and there. She would need to move to a different position soon, observe from another angle. Perhaps try to sneak past the sentries, get a closer look, do a little eavesdropping. 

Although her chest was tight with worry for Resh, she forced herself to think as she started picking her way off the ledge.

She ran various scenarios through her mind while she knelt by a stream to assuage her thirst. Obviously, she couldn’t just sneak in and start stabbing people. She’d probably be lucky enough to get in, but no way would she be getting back out after doing something like that. 

If the camp had been smaller, she might’ve just slit every bandit’s throat and been done with it. But she wasn’t killing women who’d likely done nothing wrong. And she sure as fuck wasn’t harming a child.  

Her reflection wavered in the pool of water she held in her palms. Carr watched the ripples distort her dirt-laden features and raggedly chopped hair. They seemed to have some good people among them–this clearly wasn’t a typical rag-tag band of criminals. 

The corner of her mouth kicked up at the thought. Maybe… she cut off the idea before it could fully form. It might work, it might not. It would certainly be better than waiting three-plus days for her supposed backup. If Hallin’s guard ever even came–which she had her doubts about. 

Carr took a deep breath, then raised her hands to drink. First, some subterfuge was in order.

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