#i heard of this ship like a couple months back and i changed

[kiitkaat9]

have yall heard of bugbot i quite like it

[sniigura-archive]

All we have is time.

Adam x fem!reader

Summary: Ignorance is bliss, but sadly you aren’t an idiot.

Part 1 Part 2

CW/TW: Porn, COLLEGE AUU, TW:Adam Oral M reciving, one sided pinning, possessive behaviour, please tell me if i missed something, Choking, breeding kink, unsafe sex, toxic relation ship and attachment , implied mental heath issues on readers side

Basically I wrote this for @namazunomegami and I but u guys can read it too ig /j

The drive to your friends house to meet for lunch was painful. For you at least, your friend had a blast. Asking you questions which you didn’t really want to answer. For someone who claimed to hate Adam she sure was interested in knowing about his performance in bed.

Once your friend parked, you made sure to take 2 steps at once when you walked about the stairs, quickly knocking at your friends door. You didn’t take the elevator, since you were too afraid to be stuck in a small room with her.

“…And like, is it true that he has a you-know-what piercing? How does that even work, does it hurt you? Or is extra stimulation…?” She was right on your trail.

The door opened and your other friend looked annoyed, her brows were furrowed and she had a scowl on her pretty face, “What the fuck? Did no one teach-“

You pushed past her into her unfairly huge living room, making sure that all 3 of your friends are in the room when you made your confession, “I slept with Adam and now she won’t leave me alone!” You pointed your finger at your pestering friend, Bernadette.

Bernadette grinned like she was experiencing joy for the first time, “Twice! She slept with him twice!”

You groaned loudly, covering your face with your hands to avoid the stares of everyone. You flopped down onto the soft couch.

“Oh my god? Details?”

“..Wait was that why you disappeared at the parties? You were fucking Adam..or more like Adam was fucking you. My, My.” Your other 2 friends chimed in, a couple who moved in together after 1 month of dating and have been going up and down ever since. So you feel like they can’t judge you. But they’re also lesbians and that’s basically part of their culture so like maybe you’re really the odd one out.

“You guys are acting like we are dating. Can we talk less about my sex life and do more eating?” You whined out. Daring to look up towards your whole three friends, you gave them your best impression of puppy dog eyes.

Monica sighed and twirled a black strand of coily hair around her finger, her short but still perfectly manicured pink nails were in a stark contrast to her dark hair. Her girlfriend, Dymphna, gave you a once over with a slight smirk on her face. Her bleached hair perfectly framing her soft face.

“Why do you never want to over share sex details with us?” Bernadette whined. For someone who acted at first like that was worst thing to ever happen to her, she sure was chipper now. MAN.

“Bro, it would be, like, really hypothetical of me to break up with the extra for sharing all of our sex details only to turn around and do the same to my friends!” You told them sternly.

That wasn’t the only reason you broke up with him, but it summoned it up pretty well. He was Adam’s drummer, and him being part of the band was his first red flag. Other warning signs were his selfish behaviour in and outside the bedroom, him NEVER defending you against his mother, and shit talking you behind your back towards the band. It was a nasty on and off relationship, with him constantly breaking up with you for whatever reason floated around his head and you took him back ever time. That changed once you found out just how exactly he talks about you to his friends, it was the last straw.

Sometimes you wonder what Adam thinks of the, mostly made up, stories he has heard from your ex. Is that why he sought you out?

“Bae, that’s different. He’s a guy. We are girls, which means we are better, and we share everything.” Dymphna chimed in.

The back and forth went like that for a while, lunch passed and so did dinner and before you knew it you were camped out in your friends living room. This isn’t the first time lunch escalated to a sleepover, so you were prepared. While you were chilling under your blanket, your friends started up their questioning again.

You know that Adam wouldn’t care if you shared sex details with your friends, or anyone else really. Matter of fact, you think it would stroke his ego badly. What you were more worried about is spilling too much. His intense possessiveness, the fact that he herded you into a exclusive relationship. One sided exclusive relationship? His stare, lowkey stalkerish behaviour, his soft touches, the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t noticing. The emotional charged atmosphere in the car.

“So it’s casual, right?” Monica asked carefully. At some point you got pissed off with everyone hounding you for answers.

“Yeah. What else would it be? Has he ever had a serious relationship in college?”

“Hmm. Well, he does talk sometimes about dates he went to. One time he bitched and moaned in practice about a girl he went on multiple dates with, who talked about equality but didn’t want to pay for the date. Man, he didn’t stop talking about that for weeks. I wonder how Lute can deal with him?” The last part was more mumbled to herself than anything. Her girlfriend was draped over her lap while the both sat on the couch.

Adam and Lute run a female-only self defence club, which is affectionately called the The Exorcists. Monica and Dymphna met at the club during their freshman year. This also meant they're more familiar with Adam than you.

Bernadette was already passed out besides you, her soft snores filled the air.

“You know the story about his ex-girlfriends?” Dymphna whispered, conscious of your sleeping friend.

“Only a bit. Dated two girls in highschool, both cheated. The second one somehow screwed him over, hard. Got kicked out of his father’s house, lived with his mother…Did I miss something?”

“That summons it up... Do you think he was into you before the final break up?” Monica chimed in.

And you think of the times where you were single for a small time, at party’s and gatherings and at campus, were Adam approached you. But you were so far up your heart ache that you simply repressed all those memories. Oh my god. The memories crashed into you like a wave.

“…Naahh. Barley saw him before that.” You tried to avoid the topic, by badly lying. You see them exchange knowing glances, but you just ignore that. Like everything else uncomfortable in your life you ignore. Avoidance above everything else.

Maybe you’re just fucking delusional and your own ego went to your head.

“Wait! So at the last party you skipped out on you were already sleeping with each other, right?”

“Yeah…Why?”

Another glance was exchanged between the couple, which started to piss you off. You hate third wheeling.

Dymphna sat up, rubbing at her eye, “Huh. Well…Hmmm..Adam seemed kinda pissed of at the party. He seemed to be looking for…something. But! Don’t worry about it.”

You threw your head back into your pillow, trying to hide away. Jesus. Your friends chuckled at you, while they got up.

“Be careful, I think if you break Adam’s heart Lute will have to tranq gun him down. Literally.” Monica giggled at the thought.

They both kissed your cheek while wishing you a goodnight, returning to their bedroom.

Even though it usually doesn’t happen to you, you couldn’t fall asleep. As much as you turned in your makeshift bed, sleep didn’t come easy to you. It’s midnight now, and the only comfort you have is your professor cancelling all the classes for the day, so it’s not like you had to wake up early.

You did have an obgyn appointment tho, to talk over birth control options for you. After that you had to work a shift. Ugh. What you wouldn’t give to be rich, but, well, this is why you’re the first one in your family to go to college. Breaking the cycle, or whatever Bernadette is always babbling about.

In the end you lost the fight to whatever demon you were fighting in your mind and you pulled out your phone from the charger and started mindlessly scrolling.

A message appeared on the top of your screen from Adam. Damn. Ok. You opened the chat log.

[Adam Godfree]: University at Albany Study: Semen Eases Depression in Women {Link} 22:34PM

[Adam Godfree]: u up tits? 12:22AM

[Reader]: Yes. 12:22AM

You see the type bubble appear and disappear for a solid minute. This isn’t the first time Adam had texted you at an ungodly hour, asking if you’re up. It’s the first time though where you respond. You rub your hand over your face, feeling stupid all of the sudden. Before you could throw your phone away Adam responded.

[Adam Godfree]: yeah??? 12:24AM

[Adam Godfree]: want me to pick u up bbae 12:24AM

[Adam Godfree]: or i can come over idgaf 12:24

[Adam Godfree]: whatever gets me in that tight pusssssy 12:25AM

[Reader]: I’m at Monica and Dymphna’s right now. 12:25AM

[Adam Godfree]: my fave lesbos 12:25Am

[Adam Godfree]: i can pick you up where ever when ever baby 12:26AM

[Adam Godfree]: jus say the word 12:26AM

You started chewing at your lips, fuck. It’s not like you could sleep and as you learned from the two last times, nothing puts you more to sleep than having Adam rearrange your guts. You looked over to Bernadette snoring besides you, her whole body was arranged like a pretzel. She was a heavy sleeper, so you wouldn’t wake her up. And hearing suspicious sounds from your friends bedroom means also they wouldn’t notice you fucking off.

Your nerves would have been stilled if you knew how Adam was nervously pacing around in his own empty apartment.

[Reader]: {Location} 12:28AM

[Adam Godfree]: be there in 10 12:28AM

SHIT. Ok, deep breaths you got this. Looking around for your bag, you realised you had to pack exactly 0. You ha shoved everything recklessly into your bag, but it was all there. Making really sure you got everything, you rubbed at your face and neck, to get the nervousness out. Why are you so nervous?? That guy literally shoved his tongue up your pussy you actually need to chill.

Before you realised it, eight minutes have already passed. Carefully gathering your bag and jacket, you simply slipped into your shoes without tying them. Walk of shame vibes without having done the shameful part yet. Slipping into your jacket, you left the apartment and made your way to the elevator. You wish you had an elevator in your building. You’re pretty sure you saw a rat last week just chilling in the staircase.

Pressing the button and patiently waiting for the elevator you decided to text in the group chat where your whereabouts will be. Before anyone thinks you ran away or something.

Getting into the elevator you made your way down, till you left the building through the huge automatic glass doors. Looking around, you tried to remember what the fuck Adam’s car looked like. Expensive, for sure. But everything here was expensive so you were lost. Making another sweep of the street, you spotted Adam’s car, but only because you spotted Adam first. He was typing away at his phone.

Walking over, you opened the passenger door and got in. You simply put your bag in-front of your feet. Adam seemed slightly startled but he quickly catches himself once he saw it was you. You muttered out a small ‘Hi’ while sighing. As soon as you were in Adam’s presence you felt the tiredness creeping in. Weird.

“Hey, baby. How’s it going?” He murmured out, he grasped his huge hand against the nape of your neck and clashes your lips into each other.

Adam kept it PG for the first 5 seconds, which honestly made you proud of him, after that he threw out any decency and tangled your tongues together. Grasping his shoulders to push him gently away from you, you could have sworn you heard him straight up whine quietly.

“Alright, pussy pleaser, how about you drive to your place? So we can finally have sex in a bed. I can’t take another semi-public place.” You told him teasingly.

Adam scoffed at you with a smile on his lips, “I’m surprised you can take me at all, babe.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you turned around to fasten your seatbelt. Adam packed away his phone (who was he texting?) and shifted the gear to pull out of the side walk. You still think your friends were full of shit. One way to find out.

Sitting up suddenly, you turned your whole body towards Adam. He averted his gaze from the road to you, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Do you ever feel like you’re going insane?” You decided to ask him.

He scratched at his chin while furrowing his brow at you, “I don’t give a shit. We gonna fuck or what?”

Oh thank god. He couldn’t care less about you.

“Yup!”

Adam gave you one last once over while slightly shaking his head at you. He pulled out into the street and started the way to his home. You were a bit relieved. The less feelings involved the better.

You watched the street lamps and different buildings pass you. You tried to take a glance into the windows, you never learned how to mind your own business. Nothing was more interesting than seeing how other people lived.

Adam smoothly parked his car at his assigned parking space. The sign had a guitar sticker besides Adam’s last name, Godfree.

Getting out of the car, you hurled your bag over your shoulder. You already thought your friends lived in a fancy neighbourhood but Adam really knows how to do everyone. Walking up towards him, since you didn’t know where the fuck to go, you looked up to him.

Adam placed his hand on your shoulder, where your bag was thrown over, and gently pushed you in-front of him. He lead the way while being behind you. His fingers weaselled its way behind the bag strap, successfully sliding it off your shoulder and slinging it across his own shoulder.

You threw a glance behind you, to find out what his plan was, but he was grinning at you.

“What kind of man would I be if I let my favourite girl carry anything?” He whispered into your ear. You felt yourself begin to flush, looking straight ahead, while Adam had his arm wrapped around your side. Walking now beside you, he dragged you into his side. Chuckling at you, he herded you to his apartment.

You were too focused on the feeling of Adam’s big, warm body besides yours to focus on anything going on around you. You’re down bad. In the trenches, basically.

Entering Adam’s apartment, you didn’t quite know what you expected but it wasn’t this. Part of you imagined a messy apartment, with dishes and trash pilling up everywhere, but that wasn’t the case. His apartment felt empty, the way Ikea display rooms feel empty. It’s nice, minimalistic even.

It’s clear to you that Adam didn’t decorate the living room. You slipped out off your shoes, everything was so sterile here you felt bad just existing. Adam took of his own shoes and jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack. He helped you out of your own jacket and hung it up.

Adam looked you up and down and started chuckling at you, “The fuck are you even wearing?”

You looked down at your pyjamas which. Yeah, was embarrassing. Your oversized t-shirt had permanent bleach and hair dye stains from adventure with your friends in it. It was a band shirt of Adam’s band, a prototype you got from your ex. Your fuzzy pants were as old as time. You bought them when you were 13, the colour was washed out. It was blue with duck prints on it. Together with more mysterious stains.

“..What? You don’t like my sleeping fit?” You looked up into his smiling face. His eyes were soft.

“Nah, babe. Nothing gets me more hard than…Fuzzy ducks. What the fuck did you even do to your clothes?” Adam grasped your hand into his, starting to lead you towards his bedroom. His fingers were squeezing yours.

“You never dyed your friends hair at 3am because her crush didn’t text her back for 15 minutes?” You smiled at the memory of Dymphna losing her mind over Monica before they got together.

“Damn, let me guess Dy? Didn’t do that, but Lute did force me to make fake accounts to test one of her toys.” Adam sniffed, “Don’t tell her I told you that. She would kill me.”

Adam opened up his bedroom door and finally you see something you were expecting. It wasn’t trash or dirt, but a few guitars strewn across the room. His big bed was shoved into a corner, it was unmade. Huge windows were covered by the curtains and his desk was surprisingly tidy. His laundry basket was overflowing. On his desk was a photo of him and Lute, they seemed happy. Everything was messy but still clean.

While you were looking around, Adam put your bag down besides his closet. For a second he simply watched you, standing in his room. He pinched himself, trying to get his shit together.

You heard Adam walk towards you, you turned around and Adam grasped your face into his hands, he bend down and kissed you. Soft. Gently. Lovingly. Your heart sped up.

His body was towering over yours, his huge hands on your face and he started to lead you towards his bed. He pushed you softly unto the plush surface, while you laid on his bed he took of his sweater, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

He smirked down at you, grasping at your knees and spreading your legs apart,

“Tell me, baby, do you rub that pretty pussy to the thought of me? Huh?” His tone was arrogant, like he knew the answer to that already.

Which, yeah, he did. Busted. Are you that predictable?? You were going to die on the spot. You covered the lower half of your face with your hand.

“…Maybe.” Your voice was small. Your own pride was too big to admit to that. Shit.

Adam’s hands grasped at your hips, his thumbs were gently massaging your skin. His hands wandered down, grabbing at the waistband of your pants he pulled it and your underwear off your body carefully. Like unwrapping a present.

“Oh yeah? Show me.”

“Wha…Why?”

“ ‘m not gonna touch you till you give me a show, slut.” Adam kneeled down before the bed between your legs, his head in his hand, the elbow resting on the blanket. His eyes were focused on you.

Fuckfuckfuck.

You bit down on your lip. Who would win in this stare off? Not you for sure.

Avoiding his sharp eyes, you slowly spread your legs further apart. Adam’s eyes moved from your face to your glistening pussy. He started to smile at the sight.

A thought popped up in your head. Adam loves physical touch, that much is clear. You just have to give him the best show ever and forbid him from touching you, as a little revenge. Teasing him will be fun. Hopefully. He’s going to eat you alive.

Your hand moved from your chest, to your stomach, to your cunt. Making sure Adam could see everything, you spread your folds apart with your fingers. You heard him hitch his breath. Ok. You can do this. Adam is obviously infatuated with you, so hopefully you can’t disappoint him. Too much.

Starting gently, you gathered some wetness on your middle and ring finger from your dripping hole. Rubbing slow circles into your clit, your lip got caught between your teeth while you tried to stifle a moan.

Adam shuffled on his knees, his one hand went towards his hardening dick. Rubbing at his bulge through his sweatpants he groaned slightly at the sight of you. This really was his favourite fucking show.

“You like that, whore? Do like touching yourself for me?” Adam spoke in a breathy tone.

You wish you had mastered dirty talk like Adam, but part of you just wishes to hide away forever. The other part wants to get dicked down by Adam constantly. So yeah, your mind is pretty torn apart.

“Uh-Hu.” You simply gasped out, who needs words when you can just moan.

Fingers moving from your pulsing clit, you started to slowly enter them into your cunt. Pumping them in and out, the frustrating truth was that your fingers were much smaller than Adam’s dick. Or his fingers. So the places he could reach were basically unknown territory to you.

“ Shit, babe, need me to help that greedy pussy out?” Adam looked into your eyes up. Fucking hell. Sexiest man alive.

He started sitting up, his hands reaching out towards your thighs.

You placed your foot on his shoulder, pushing him down. Usually Adam’s eyes were sharp, like that of a hawks, but right now he reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked up at you with round eyes.

“Why don’t you beg a bit for it, Adam? What makes you think you deserve it?” You tried to make your voice as sultry as possible. It felt more shaky than anything.

Now it was Adam’s turn to be flustered, his face was flushed and he covered his mouth with his hand. Ah. Did you over do it? Before you could take your words back, Adam leaned his head against your ankle, nuzzling the skin there. He avoided eye contact.

“..Fuuuuck, woman, you got me so fucking pussy whipped. You know how down bad I am? Nobody squeezes my dick like you do. Shit….Please, let me fuck that holy like cunt.” Adam grumbled out, him being submissive was hot as fuck. Maybe you should gag him next time. Or tie him up? That’d be hot.

You sat up more, removing your fingers to grasp at Adam’s bare shoulders, “…Damn, Adam. Please stuff me full.”

That was all it took for Adam pounce on you, he grasped his hands under your back, throwing you towards the pillows. Your landing was cushioned, thankfully. Adam crawled over you, towering over you with his much bigger body. Your talent is really biting off more than you can chew.

Adam leaned down to whisper in your ear, “That was really hot, sugar tits, honestly. But we really gotta give you some good lessons on how to properly dom, don’t cha think? We can remember that for next time, now we gotta focus on filling you up real nice ‘n good.”

You simply nodded at Adam’s words, you want him so bad. You hope he wants you just as bad.

He clashed his lips into your own, teeth clanking together and spit being exchanged like it’s your only life force. As if this could heal you, heal you both. You think it does, a bit.

Adam’s warm hands snaked themselves under your shirt, his hands exploring your body. He stopped the kiss to take your shirt off, now you were completely naked, while Adam was still wearing his sweatpants.

“A bit unfair, no?” You ask him, while trailing your fingers over his stomach, towards his happy trail to then tug at the waistband of his sweats. His dick was straining against the grey cloth. A dark spot of pre cum was forming.

Adam chuckled, “Everything for my favourite slut.” He teasingly dragged his sweats down slowly, together with his underwear.

His dick sprang free and it was once again clear that your fingers could not compare to Adam’s sheer size. You already felt a phantom stretch in your pussy at the sight of him.

Adam started kissing at your neck while his hand massaged your tit, pulling and pinching at the nipple. You whined. Once you felt him trying to leave marks on your neck, you pushed his face away from your skin.

“Ok. New rule. No marks beyond the cleavage. I’m serious, don’t laugh! Spring is coming and I can’t walk around looking like I just got mauled.” You told him.

“Sure you can. And when you do and I see you I can remember how you milked me dry and everyone knows you’re spoken for.” Adam tried to sound convincing, he was, but you don’t want to die of a heat stroke just because Adam has some weird issues going on.

You simple glared at him, reaching out and tugging at his nipple piercing roughly.

“Ouch! Fucking bitch. Okay, okay. Got it.” He grumbled out, but he started smirking again, which was never good, “Doesn’t mean you can’t leave marks on me tho, baby. Equality and all that shit.”

Dragging him down by his nape, you tugged at his hair while frenching him. Why is he so dreamy? Or more like what’s wrong with you? Doesn’t really matter in the great scheme of things. This whole thing is to casually have fun. Totally casual. Yeah.

Adam spread your legs apart slightly, rubbing at your pussy with his finger, he slowly slipped one finger in and then the other. Pumping his fingers in and out of you, he was mumbling stuff you didn’t quite catch. Something about prepping you properly. Thank god for that because otherwise he would split you apart.

Slipping in the third and final finger, he curled them up, causing you to moan Adam’s name like a prayer. Maybe you are praying to him.

Feeling Adam remove his fingers made you whine out for him. Yeah you really need dom lessons from him, a bit of pleasure and you’re brain dead. That’s embarrassing, low-key.

Settling between your legs, Adam rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit.

“Ugh, prettiest pussy on the whole campus. Believe me, slut.” He whispered to himself.

Sometimes you wonder how much Adam is aware of the fact that you can hear basically his inner monologue. Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t know it.

Slowly slipping into your warm, wet hole Adam groaned at the feeling of you enveloping him completely. Some sick, locked away part of him is happy that you didn’t mention condoms.

Adam started to slowly rock your hips together, the pressure was building up in your abdomen. Reaching under your thighs, Adam pressed them towards your chest, reminding you off a pretzel. He reached even more sensitive spots inside you with that angle.

Seeing and hearing you be so satisfied made him pick up the pace.

“..Ya know what this position is called?..Fuck!..It’s..Ah..Called mating press, baby….You wanna be..ugh.. my little breeding mate? Huh?” Adam grunted out.

Shit, his dick piercing was rubbing against your walls. Fuck, Adam has been barley inside of you for 10 minutes and you already feel like exploding. At least Adam also looks like he’s going to bust any minute.

Man, and he hasn’t even touched your clit. He has an incredible effect on you. Well, more like on your pussy. You never thought pregnancy was hot till now. You literally let the guy spit in your mouth.

Scratching up his back, you decided to make him regret saying that you could mark him up as much as you pleased. Fucker. Your lips searched for Adam’s skin, you dragged his face towards yours. You kissed the side of his mouth, he tried to catch your lips into his, but you moved on.

Lips crashed into his cheek and chin and nose, till you finally found his neck. You made sure to kiss, suck and lick as hard as possible. Everywhere you could. Adam groaned straight up in your ear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Want to mark me up, heh. Show everyone who I belong to? Shit.” Adam grasped at your hips to keep you still, to fuck into you.

“Love when you do that. When you hit that spoo-Ah- spot!” You called out to Adam, to spur him on. To have him fuck your harder. You felt juices run down your thighs.

“Oh yeah?..Tell me what else you love?” He groaned out.

“Adam! Right there, please. I..Uhh…Love your dick…?” It was more a question than a statement.

“Fuck. I’ll take it.” Adam kept up his pace, and you felt your toes curling, your legs tensing up, while you locked your ankles behind Adam’s back, to keep him inside of you.

Your orgasm crashed over you, like an electric shook cursing through your body. Feeling you clench around him, Adam couldn’t keep up much longer and he came inside you.

The sensation of having Adam’s hard dick pulse inside you, while his hot seed is spilling inside you made you sob out at the overstimulating feeling.

Adam rubbed his big, warm hands over sweaty body in a soothing manner. What a man.

While Adam was kissing your cheek, chin and nose, you felt your heartbeat slow down. Reaching around blindly, you fished out your pyjama shirt and slipped it over your head. Adam’s eyes never left your form and neither did his hands.

He put on his underwear, to then pull you into his arms, being the big spoon. You were already half gone, cuddled into the blanket with Adam.

With Adam it felt like, he was born to be domestic and monogamous but forced to frat and fuck around.

You couldn’t spare more energy on that thought, since you were already drifting off.

———————————————

Waking up in Adam’s bed, with Adam’s arms loosely wrapped around you felt surreal. Light was peaking out of the curtains. You had no clue what time it was. It felt like morning. Was it morning?

You had to take your medication. You really didn’t want Adam to know you’re on meds. That’s really non of his business. You don’t even want it to be your business, to be honest. Rummaging through your bag like a crazy woman would very much wake him up. You had to find the bath.

Slowly and carefully getting up, you crawled out of Adam’s alaskan king size bed. Jesus his bed was nearly as big as your whole apartment. Adam was a big guy, though. He does need a big bed. Imagine him squeezing him in your bed made you smile, but also made your neck ache for him.

You took your bag, which was ungracefully put besides Adam’s closet, and walked into the living room. Where was the bathroom? Looking at the choice of 3 doors, one obviously the front door, the other two where a mystery. Adam’s apartment had an open concept, so you saw that one of the doors isn’t the kitchen door, since you could directly look into it.

Deciding to just open the door closest to you, you were happy to see that it was the bathroom. The other must be like a guest room, or a storage space. Or whatever.

Gently closing the door behind you, you started searching for your pill bottle in your bag. You ended up spilling out your whole bag on the bathroom floor to find that stupid thing. Taking out your doses, you placed the pill under your tongue and started up the sink to gather some water in your hand. Swallowing everything, you closed the tap.

Feeling Adam’s cum run down your thigh made you cringe. Should you shower? Would he be mad if you used his shower? What the fuck why would he get mad at you for using his shower, that guy cums inside you now regularly. You have to get your shit together.

Before you could take your shirt off, you heard a door slam and Adam yelling,

“What the fuck! That fucking cunt! Where fucking-“ You heard him put on his clothes outside the door.

Carefully opening the bathroom door, you made awkward eye contact with a half dressed Adam. A beat of silence passed.

“..Are you good?” You decided to ask him.

His breathing was calming down, and he rubbed a hand over his face. He avoided eye contact with you.

“Yeah, totally. I…I have this, like, crazy neighbour, you know?” He tried to weasel his way out of the conversation.

“Adam, I think you might be the crazy neighbour.” You simply told him.

His head whipped towards you, he glared at you, stepping closer to you and pointing a finger at you, “Alright, listen here you-“

Before he could continue his sentence, you hooked your own pointer finger against his.

“Wanna take a shower with me?” You looked up to him, with hopeful eyes. You tugged him towards you, with your intervened fingers.

By simply looking at him, you knew Adam was losing the resolve he had to be mad at you. Thank god.

Adam took off his wrinkly shirt, throwing it into the abyss. Same with his other cloth articles. All you had to do was take off your shirt. While you stepped into the shower, Adam’s eyes wandered across your spilled out bag items.

You were playing around with the water settings and temperature when you felt Adam wrap his arms across your stomach. You leaned back against his soft stomach and broad chest. Once you were satisfied with everything you ducked under the water, feeling the warm water envelope you made your muscles relax.

When you looked around, you weren’t surprised to see a 1 in 3 shampoo bottle. Once you made sure that your hair was soaked properly, you tried to reach out for the bottle but Adam was faster than you.

He spun you around so you were facing him and he then squirted a generous amount of soap into his hand. He massaged the soap gently into your hair, then he moved on to your body. He threw away any chastity he tried to keep up, his hands were massaging your tits. His lips meet your own, and he bit his teeth into them. You couldn’t suppress the moan leaving your mouth.

He moved his hands towards your hips, dragging your crotch towards his already harding dick. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.

Adam helped you rins off the soap from your hair and body, he kept leaving kisses on your face and neck while doing so. He turned you so his body was shielding you from the water. Damn his height and build.

With his hands on your shoulders he lightly pushed you down on your knees. So, here you were kneeling down in front of Adam. His totally not intimidating dick hang before you, thick and heavy.

You have heard the term breeder balls, and you never really had an image in your mind till you saw Adam. Looking up at him, you saw him smirk down at you. Grasping your cheeks into his hand, he squeezed your lips apart.

“Wanna please daddy? Suck my dick real good?” Adam told you with a shark like grin.

You swallowed down the extra spit collecting in your mouth, Adam just mad you nervous. Made your stomach flutter and your thighs clench.

Reaching out your hand, you started to slowly wrap your fingers around Adam’s cock. Your fingers barley met, and you started stroking him back and forth. Your thumb rubbed over his tip, the pre cum was collecting rapidly. Adam’s hand went to your head, he was pushing away your hair from your face.

“You teasin’ me?” Adam mumbled out. He tugged at your hair in a threatening manner.

Taking his dick in his own hand, he lightly slapped your cheek with it.

“How about you clean my dick for me? Open up wiiiiiiide.” Man, you didn’t even need to look at him to see the wide grin in his face.

Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue, you let Adam rub his tip against your tongue. The salty and slightly bitter taste of his pre cum hit your taste buds. It could be worse, for sure.

Adam eased his dick into your mouth, with every shallow trust he put more and more and more down your throat. You tried to breath through your nose, tried to steady yourself. He didn’t bother letting you set the pace, simply starring into your face to gauge your reactions, to not push you too far.

Your hands rested on his bulky thighs, your nails digging into skin and hair. You kept your lips over your teeth, to not hurt him. Using your tongue to massage his dick as best as possible, you also hollowed out your cheeks, to suck him properly in.

“Such a pretty face, would be a waist to fuck you any way where I can’t see it. You want me to cum down your throat? Sure you do, all the bitches love that.” Maybe you should bit his dick. Fucker.

Adam, head pusher, Godfree thrusted his dick further and further down your throat. His pace was getting faster and rougher. Just how he was with your pussy. An especially deep push made you choke and gag. You pushed yourself off Adam’s dick, to catch your breath and not to throw upon his dick. That would be embarrassing.

He petted your hair gently, while waiting for you, “..Why did you take your bag with you?” He quietly asked you.

“..Uhh..I..wanted to get..just dressed.” Man you’re a bad liar.

Adam pinched your cheek with his fingers, it bordered on painful. He just starred down at you. Usually you could easily read him, he was very expressive and voiced any kind of emotion he’s going through. Verbally and nonverbally. This time tho, his face was blank. The usual pleasant nervous you felt around Adam turned into dread.

He simply hummed at you, pushing your head towards his dick. You took him back into your mouth. He returned towards his rough pace, making you choke slightly but this time you recovered quicker.

“ ‘m gonna cum down your little throat.” Was the only warning you got, before Adam held your head still to fuck into your mouth. Feeling him cum down your throat was sure an experience.

Adam, because he’s an asshole, decided to pinch your nose, to keep you from breathing. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough to push yourself off him once he was gone and to

take in air greedily. Motherfucker.

Leaning towards him, you bit into his thigh. As hard as you could. Usually when you bit him you try to mind your teeth, this time you hoped he bled.

With a painful yelp Adam quickly pulled you off of him.

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” He angrily asked you.

“Why fucking choke me, dumbass?” You asked back with the same energy.

“Babe, what’s the big deal? I can promise you, if you sat on my face and choked me? I would cum in my pants. Straight up.”

“Fuck off.”

Roughly grasping your jaw into his hand, he was seething and it was a borderline painful sensation.

“Why take your fucking bag with you?”

Shaking him off you, you rubbed at your jaw,

“That’s non of your business.” You hissed out at him.

You saw Adam’s tongue poke his cheek, a bitter smile forming on his lips.

“Yeah, right.” Adam grasped you under your arms, picking you up. For a second he simple held you up like a rag doll. You felt small and helpless, you hated that. With a hand on your shoulder he forced you out of the shower, into the cold air. Adam picked up a bathing rob and put it on you.

And even though he was clearly pissed off at you, he was still careful when dressing you. He draped a towel over your head, he then grasped your arm and threw you out of the bathroom, he locked the door once you were out.

What the hell?

Wait.

“Adam! Give me my fucking bag!” You hammered a fist against the door.

“Whaaat? Sorry, baby, I can’t hear youuuuu.” He turned the shower up more to drown out the sound of you cursing him out.

There’s no use in yelling at Adam, you knew that. Stomping towards his bedroom, you threw yourself into the soft bed. Sitting up, you looked around. Seeing a clock at the bed site table showed you it’s roughly 6:30 AM. Damn. No wonder you felt so tired. Ah, your phone was on there too. You didn’t see it in your bag, you thought it would be by the closet. Dropping out of your messy bag. Adam probably put it there.

Picking it up you simply looked through your notifications. Nothing exciting was going on. You should probably just sleep. Putting in a reasonable alarm, and putting it back on the little table, you cuddled up under Adam’s soft blanket. Everything smelled like him. That was nice.

Before you fully drifted off, you heard the bathroom door unlock. You sat up properly, to see Adam enter the room. It seemed like he calmed down. Couldn’t be you. He put down your packed bag back near the closet. Ugh.

“Ever heard of privacy and boundaries?”

“Naw, don’t believe in that bullshit.”

Yeah, you could fucking tell.

Adam sat down at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. He was scratching at the stubbles at his chin.

“..I don’t give a fuck if you’re on meds. If that’s why you were acting so fucking shifty.”

“I don’t care about your opinion! I care if I have to take that shit! And believe me, I genuinely wish I didn’t need it. I’d rather just…be normal and fit in.” Your voice got smaller at the end. You want nothing more than to fit in.

Adam sighed, “..Well, how were your shitty little friends supposed to find you, if you were like everyone else?” He grasped your neck gently and your foreheads touched each other while you gazed into each others eyes, “..How would I have found you if you didn’t stand out?”

You felt your eyelashes get wet, tears gathering in your eye. Damn. Okay.

You sniffed and rubbed the water from your eyes.

“…Let’s sleep.”

Adam grunted in agreement. Lots of excitement for one morning. Laying back down, you felt Adam’s arms wrap around you once again.

And when you woke up a few hours later, Adam had a tight grip on you and had you pressed against the wall. So you couldn’t escape this time.

[ageingfangirl2]

Are You Flirting With Me? Sanji x Reader (OPLA)

Sanji is a known flirt around all women, but y/n isn't sure if he's flirting with her or not and they confront them. Sanji x Female Reader

Y/N

Sanji was a very confusing man. He was a shameless flirt and ladies' man, fawning over every girl who crossed his path. Nami said he was all over her when they first went to The Baratie and had continued his ways since joining the crew. But when you joined the crew after they beat Arlong Sanji was odd, initially flirting and complimenting you, but after a couple of months, he seemingly stopped but continued with Nami and the other girls.

It didn't bother you at first, it was a nice break. You didn't have body issues, in fact, you liked how you looked and took care of your image, and before you left your island to join Luffy you'd been proposed to twice. But now when you look in a mirror you start to notice small flaws in your appearance. You hated what you were becoming, you had to get off the ship and away from the blonde cook for a bit.

With one last look in the small mirror by your hammock you throw it against the wall and watch it smash into tiny pieces on the floor, 'stupid cook,' you hiss.

Grabbing your jacket you leave the sleeping quarters and head back up onto deck.

'Y\N DINNERS READY!' Usopp calls out from the deck above.

You wave him off, 'I'm not hungry, I'm going to head into town for a bit.'

Before Usopp can say anything you're already walking down the gangplank.

SANJI

'Where's y/n?' Nami asks as Usopp comes back into the kitchen frowining.

I finish plating up y/n's food and put it down in their usual spot next to mine.

'She said she wasn't hungry and was going into town, looked upset,' Usopp answers.

Nami slams her hands down on the table, 'WHICH ONE OF YOU UPSET Y/N?'

The four of us share looks at one another, trying to figure out the answer, but no one comes forward to admit to doing anything wrong. It couldn't possibly be me because y/n and I had developed a close bond, the only girl seemingly immune to my flirting but still played along and gave me compliments when the rest of the crew wouldn't. Maybe I'd check on them after dinner.

TIME SKIP

There weren't many places to go in this town and I found y/n in the first tavern nursing what looked to be their third beer.

'What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?' I joke, and sit down next to them.

y/n doesn't even look at me as they reply, 'Are you...flirting with me?'

'Gods no! What gave you that idea?' I say, a little shocked.

y/n shrugs their shoulders, '...I mean...have you heard yourself talk around girls?'

I order a beer and bump my shoulder with y/n's, 'I've been told, look at you y/n, even with my flirting you looked past that and actually wanted to get to know me.'

y/n's head snaps in my direction their eyes wide, 'so that's why you stopped? You don't think I'm ugly.'

I shake my head, 'You're beautiful y/n. Wait is this why you're upset?'

y/n nods and faceplants the bar top grumbling. After a minute or two y/n explains how they thought they were ugly because I stopped flirting with them while continuing to do it with Nami and other girls around them. y/n was embarrassed, but I had to admit I was also in the wrong for not noticing my actions around them.

'I'm sorry Sanji,' y/n mutters.

I smile and throw an arm around their shoulder, 'I'm sorry to y/n. Trust me you're not ugly, because whenever we dock somewhere the guys and I have to keep guys away from you. Now I managed to save you a plate before Luffy could eat it if you're still hungry.'

y/n leans into me and smiles, 'You are the best cook I know. Thank you for coming after me Sanji, it means a lot.'

The two of us finish our drinks and leave the tavern, y/n holding onto me as they stumble having drunk on an empty stomach.

'On a scale of one to ten, you're a nine, and I'm the one you need,' I say seriously, but wiggle my eyebrows at them.

y/n bursts into laughter, 'Never change Sanji.'

From now on I would try and find the right balance because I never wanted to lose y/n.

[babygirl-riley]

There was During You Pt.II

Both you and Ghost came to terms of being in love

“I’ve never fallen from quite this high. Falling into your ocean eyes.”

Warnings: fluff, establishment of relationship, mentions of sex, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

pt.I pt.III

You leaned back in the tub feeling the warmth of it relax your muscles. The candles flickering the darkness and the smell of lavender made you relax even more. You heard footstep approach as you felt a hand graze your cheek.

“Care for me to join love?” You opened your eyes for the beautiful caramel brown eyes looking at you. You smiled at him and shook your head. You scoot yourself up as Simon came from behind you, having himself nestled against you, wrapping his arms around you. You played with his tatted arm as you sighed in content.

Simon brought you close as he placed his lips on your shoulder. You leaned against his back even more. “You ‘ight, didn’t go too hard?” He mumbled kissing more up your neck.

You moaned quietly. “No, little sore but nothing too serious,” You chuckled as you looked over a bit to kiss his cheek. “Going rough isn’t always bad.”

He hummed into your skin as he rubbed your sides. Both of you were pent up bad, mission that almost took Soap’s and Price’s life. It was the most difficult one so far for you at least. So when Price gave the go for the task force to have a little leave, both you and Simon went to his apartment. Non stop sex for hours, he was rough against your body. Biting, small choking, his grasps harsher. You could have stopped it at anytime but it felt good everywhere. His back was also marked by you, the scratching from the pleasure that would run through your veins.

“How’s your back?” You asked moving to face him.

“Nothin’ I can’t handle,” He smiled looking at you with lidded eyes. You cupped his cheek and kissed him softly before nestling back into him. It was quiet, a good content quiet. Both of you have been together for over a year never established anything.

Simon noticed the way his actions have changed around you. He made sure you were alright during missions, make sure he was sitting next to you during debriefs, and especially making you your favorite tea he introduced you. Then going to each others flat and staying there until the next mission or work at the base. Simon has been in denial about the sudden change of feelings towards you and so have you.

Simon even noticed by the way he would feel when you looked at him. Giving him a soft smile. The flutter that would fill his chest. The way he changed his actions, being soft with you, making sure you were safe. Even the last couple of months he has taken you out for dinners, activities, or just work outs. Simon never really wanted or needed someone to be around. You. You changed that.

It was the same for you, wanting to be near him. Hear his voice. Make sure you can touch him. Simon never admitted it neither have you. But both of you have shown each other the difference. Both of you too stubborn to say anything but the shift change between the situation-ship to something more.

You noticed the small acts of service he has been doing for you. You have been doing the same, more smiling when he was around, getting excited when you see the skull mask appearing. Making sure he was fine on missions. Leaving small things at his apartment, like a toothbrush. Some clothes being left in drawers.

Simon sighed once more. “You should move in.” You mumbled, your heart rate picking up.

Simon froze from behind you, his hands stopping. You froze as well. It was a long silence before he shifted a bit. “Or you can move into mine,” He offered. “It’s a bit bigger.”

You smiled a bit. “That would be fine, my lease ends in a couple of months.” Simon hummed, going quiet again, the air feeling tense. “We don’t have to though,” You whispered could feel cold sweat starting on your forehead. “I know this is just sex and I don’t want to…”

“Ya think this is just sex?” He interrupted, his voice lowering.

You felt a hitch in your throat, is this the time? What if he runs away from you admitting what is happening is more than the sex? Or close up? Or request a move out of the 141. You inhaled and moved to turn to him. His brown eyes locking on yours, his eyes searching for the answer. His heart was beating hard enough he was sure you could hear.

Simon shouldn’t have said anything, he noticed the nervousness in your eyes. Which made him want to get up and leave entirely. Act like nothing happened. On the other hand he couldn’t move, he wanted to know what is going to be the answer.

“I,” You paused letting out a shutter. “I don’t think so,” His facial expression didn’t move from the emotion he had on originally, you couldn’t read him like this yet. You both never talked about feelings much let alone how you both feel about each other. “Simon…I have felt like this. I think it has become something more. Something that we both are scared of but I know that I am not afraid of us.”

Simon listened closely waiting for the punchline of ‘But.’ Or ‘It won’t work.’ But it never led to that, the sentence ending there. Simon glared for a moment before he inhaled. “I share the same thoughts love,” He sat up as the water moved against your bodies. “I’m…scared as well.”

He had been terrified the last couple of months. When he first realized that the feelings had changed was when your life was almost taken. Bullet just grazing your head. You knocked out from the other bullets hitting your vest, blood pooling from your head. He thought you were a goner until you all reached the medical tent. He paced, he couldn’t sleep, he could barely think as you were being worked on.

When Price came into the room with Gaz, Soap, and him. He thought you were gone but once Price said you were awake and moving. His heart skipped then leaped into full speed. When walking into the tent, he froze, everything hitting him like a freight train. You smiling at him and reaching for him. For him. That’s when he knew he was not in a friends with benefits relationship.

You smiled, the smile that always lightened his mood. The smile that right then Simon could see the light engulfing his dark thoughts of what ifs. Anyone he got this close to, to consider love for always gets taken away. He is afraid of saying it, acknowledging it but now with your comfort smile it went away.

You placed a hand on his cheek. “Me too but Si…I never have fallen this hard before. I don’t know if that scares you more than me but I have to say it I can’t…”

Before you could even finish Simon’s hand went to the back of your neck to pull into a kiss. Simon had been feeling the same way, relief engulfing his chest and veins. Finally he felt like everything was coming together. That he felt safe and loved. The kiss was passionate and basically hit the air out of you. You kissed him back, as your tongues danced against one another. It felt like your world was coming together, fitting a puzzle piece you have been so carefully making.

You didn’t know how it got to the point of you on your bed. He worshiped your body, slowly kissing your body, nipping and sucking on your favorite spots. His hands softly roaming your body. Squeezing your hips or breasts. It felt like you were on cloud 9, your body just feeling adrenaline after a work out. Simon sat back admiring your naked body on the bed. “Fuck baby, what have you done to me?” He whispered crawling back up, hovering over your body. Caging you in. Making you feel secure and safe.

You smiled up at him kissing him tenderly. You wanted this for so long, just watching Simon’s eyes soften whenever you touched him tenderly. You broke the kiss and stroke his cheek. “What have we done to each other?”

[thndrs-wrtr]

Hello! Here's a bit of angst. Part 2 for happy ending??

Trigger warning: Angst, break up, crying. Reader is a teacher cause is the profession that came first skdjs

The Chaos Theory

The butterfly effect, or the chaos theory states that one simple event can lead to bigger events, and change the course of things, the way an action can affect directly another one.

Maybe, going to that convenience store wss your butterfly effect. Maybe, you shouldn't have gone.

However, it wasn't crazy or weird to see your boyfriend in tv, or heard people talking about him since he was a popular, yet, no one had a single clue he was dating you. For the world he was single, until that night.

You were waiting in line to get your things payed, until one of the two girls in front you of let out a tiny scream, making you furrow your eyebrows in confussion.

"What is it?" asked her friend. "Your boyfriend again?"

"Well, not my boyfriend, my husband. There's a twitter account saying Bangchan might be dating! Oh my god, do you think is true?"

Even though you tried to avoid reading those comments or being involved in the media scandal, you couldn't help but pay attention. Was it a leaked picture of you? Do I need to run? You thought to yourself. But you didn't.

"Apparently he's dating this female idol from the latest JYP group. They were seen together a few days ago, look!" The girl showed her friend her phone "They don't look that bad, do they?"

"Nope, not at all. They look great, actually. Would be a pretty couple, I ship them!"

You knew, you absolutely knew. You knew her, you knew he was going to be a guest in their new music video, you knew everything, but you couldn'y say anything. You knew Chan wouldn't even think of cheating on you, you knew Christopher. However, those thoughts were definitely not helping your rising anxiety.

It was something that had been haunting you for months, you met him when he was already popular, and you were beyond proud of everything he accomplished and keep accomplishing. You could deal with the distance whenever he went away on tour, or the nights where he'd arrive late. But you couldn't seem to deal with your own thoughts and how they were tearing you apart.

You moved back home, thinking about how different your lifestyles were, and the dark clouds were adding drama to that moment.

When night came, you couldn't control it anymore, your eyes were already teary and puffy, and you thanked god your roomate wasn't there so you didn't have to give any explanations. You put on a jacket, grabbed the keys to her car, and headed to Chan's dorm. You knew the kids were not going to be there, so it seemed the perfect timing.

"Baby? Hey! What are you—" Chan said welcoming you, but interrupting himself when his smile fade away, noticing your tired, teary eyes. "What happened, y/n?

He was about to pull you in his arms, but instead of jumping to him, you moved aside and let yourself inside the building, making Chan look at you in confussion and concern. He turned around, searching for you eyes.

"Chan we... We need to talk, can we?"

"Yeah, we need. And you're scaring me, like... a lot" he chuckled a bit, keeping his smile. But out of being nervous.

"I–..." you cut yourself, feeling your throat getting tight. "I've been thinking a lot and... Maybe..." after taking a deep breath, you looked back at him "maybe this isn't right?"

"This? What is this? Could you explain it better, yeah?" His soft eyes and patience broke you even more.

"Us, Chan." You saw Chris's eyes getting filled with pain, horror, sadness. "This is not easy to say, but... I've been thinking and... Maybe it's better if we take different roads."

"Y/n—ah... I'm not– I'm not getting anything. Why are you bringing this up? I know I don't rest that much or I'm always doing things but—" this time, you interreputed him.

"Exactly. But it is not that I'm mad about it"

"Then?"

"I don't want to drag you down, Channie..." you felt your eyes getting wet, and you bit your lower lip trying to stop your chin from trembling. "You are always trying to move your agenda, getting more time, and... Last time you already got scolded for cancelling an interview and spend the weekend with me. I–... We are from different worlds, Chan. And at some point is gonna... Is not gonna be manageable anymore. I don't want to block you from working hard and your dreams"

You said looking down, while Chan was completely frozen in his spot, his eyebrows furrowed, his adam apple moving when he swallowed hard to keep his tears.

"I'm a grown man, y/n. I do what I want, and I want to be with you, yeah? I know it's hard but-" you interrupted him.

"Chan this is not... there's a lot more behind it" you said as you felt the tears going down your cheeks.

"You read comments again, didn't you? Baby those are not true, and you know that."

Chan took a step closer and denied with his head, he wanted to hug you, kiss you, but the step you took back stopped him from doing so.

"They are, Chris." Hearing his name in that moment was even more painful "I mean, just look at you...And look at me." You sniffed, lifting your arms pointing at him but letting it fall once again "you are an idol, your world is... Unmatchable for me. I'm just a regular teacher, with a reg-" this time, he was the one to interrupt you.

"You're not just a teacher, you have a masters degree, your students love you, you make them feel better, you do much more than I do."

"But it still isn't enough, Chan. You deserve someone at your level... And... Maybe I'm not the one."

And that was the breaking point. Your words grew smaller and weaker syllable by syllable, finally closing your eyes wjth strenght as your tears fell down, uncontrolably, matching Chan's heartbeat that was going crazy, crazy not to shatter into a million pieces.

He took another step closer, finally caging you in his arms, the smell of his perfume giving you instant peace. His hand landed at the back of your head, gently pushing you against his chest.

"You are speaking non-sense...I love you, you make me wanna keep going, and... And we can carry this, yeah?" His voice was soft, yet, you could hear the sadness.

"I love you too, Chris. Way too much... That is why I have to let you go."

You lifted your head and your palm rested on his cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone. Chan's hand grabbed yours without taking it away from his face, he couldn't.

"Don't say that, come on" at this point, his eyes were red with tears, and both of you were broken of seeing the latter fall down your faces.

"You're the best man I have ever meet, Channie. And... I just hope someone good..." You sniffed hard, being completely unable to finish that sentence. You didn't want him to be with anyone else, but at the same time you felt you were not the one. "Take care, yeah?"

You left a quick and painful kiss on his cheek, before going out as fast as possible, hiding your sobs. Chan stood there, not moving an inch in the middle of the room, only his chin trembling, and tears staining the floor.

Meanwhile, outside, seven boys were happily getting off the van, trying to cover themselves from the rain.

"Ah, Chan-hyung is going to be so happy" Felix said with a smile

"Totally, this new world tour is gonna hype him up so much" I.N added, "Oh, yn-ah is here" he said again with a happy smile when he recognized your car, making the rest of the kids smile as well.

However, you didn't even see them. Or didn't want to. The door closed behind you as you ran past the seven of them, their faces looking at you in confussion when you didn't say hi, but especially, cause they noticed the sobbing and the tears in your face. They look at each other, not understanding anything.

"Lee Know"

Changbin told him, and just by his name he understood. From a time there, you and Lee Know had a very close relation, he became pretty much some sort of big brother, and he was the one who ran after you, calling your name.

"Yn-ah!" He grabbed you by your shoulder, stopping you right before you entered the car.

"Not now, Minho" you said, a sob escaping your lips "please"

"God, I can't let you get go in that state, much less with this rain. What the hell is-" He stopped right in his tracks when you hugged him.

"Take me home, please"

You begged in a whisper, him nodding. He raised his head to look at Han, slightly lifting his shoulders to make him understand he didn't know what was happening either. But they were far from dumb, they knew something between you and Chan must have happened.

When Han turned around, the kids were already walking inside the place. When he got in, he saw Hyunjin sitting next to Chan, his head on his shoulder, and his arm around his torso. On Chan's left was Felix, patiently looking at him. Kneeling in front was I.N together with Changbin, and Seungmin was coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water. Han took a step closer to the group, and with no words he understood why their leader was sobbing hard, looking down while holding his head with his hands and covering his face as his elbows were on his thighs.

Did it really end? Was the only thought for everyone, inside and outisde the building.

Part 2?

[bad268]

hey lovely! hope your well.

I was wondering if you could do a Arvid Lindblad x reader story please?

I have a couple request if that's okay?

First

Arvid and Y/n both like each other, and Dino and the other drivers make a plan to get them together.

Second

Where the reader has curly hair and they try to show Arvid how to style his curls.

Third

Arvid and Y/n just being adorable, him being cliny, Arvid having to hold their hand, everyone bullying Arvid because of how whipped he is for Y/n

Thank you (sorry if its too much to ask!)

Love your written BTW!

Trio Shorts (Arvid Lindblad X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I did all three as shorts, I hope you like it, and thank you love <3) (Also, special gift since we're getting close to the follower celebration <3)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1365

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

First (driver! Reader)

You were a last-minute addition to Prema, moving from FRECA to F3 after Gabriele had to leave the championship. You were nervous to meet your new teammate. You had raced against Arvid before, and you loved hanging around him in the Prema factory. You two were teammates in the Italian F4 championship before you split to FRECA while he did the UAE Championship. Dino, you had only heard of, so this would be the first time you met him.

You walked into the paddock early, probably earlier than you needed. It was the first time at this track, so you were going to need all of the help you could get. You got approval from the team to do an early track walk, so you were currently about to start it.

The plan was simple, do one lap, feeling the turns. Then the second lap would actually be you memorizing changes in the tarmac and thinking about the braking zones. You did not even make it to turn one of the first lap before someone cleared their throat behind you.

“Mind if I join?” They asked, causing you to turn and see Dino standing by the pitlane exit. You found out during that lap that Dino is quite the gossip person, so you two really hit it off. That was the start of your weekly paddock gossip session.

You two talked about anything from other driver’s personal business to engineers and team personnel. You even started jokingly shipping different drivers together. One day you joked that Dino and Sebastian would be a cute couple, so he thought that you and Arvid would be a better match. You went silent because you never wanted to admit those feelings, but clearly, other people noticed them. Dino stopped walking when he noticed you not laughing it off like you had both done before.

“Do you actually like him?” Dino asked.

“Is it that obvious?” You asked back nervously. That was all Dino needed to hear. He was already forming a plan to get you and Arvid together. The rest of the walk, though, Dino played it off as a random pairing since most of the others had been completely random too.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that it was brought up again. It was the second to last race of the season, and you were told that there was an emergency meeting in the Prema facility, so you were on your way there.

However, Dino, Sebastian, Tim, and Luke had a plan. They told Arvid that they were setting him up on a blind date.

“Oh, is it with Y/n?” Arvid laughed as Tim handed him flowers, ones he recognized as your favorites, and Dino fixed his hair. Suddenly all of the guys stopped, causing Arvid to also stop laughing.

“No keep that energy!” Sebas said as he grabbed Arvid by the shoulders. “Yes, it’s Y/n but they don’t know it’s a blind date, so think of this as a push in the right direction.”

“They may or may not have said to me that they like you, so this is the solution,” Dino concluded with a clap. 

“It’s not like they’ll say no to a date,” Tim chuckled. “They said they were lonely last week.”

“You know, I don’t think this may have been the best option,” Arvid tried to interject.

“They would never say it to your face,” Luke said with an eye roll as he sat down. “Are you doing it or not?”

“We already made your reservations for their favorite place in the area,” Dino reasoned as he had a nervous smile, trying to convince Arvid.

“Plus, they’re waiting for you, so it would suck if you backed out now,” Sebas said, trying to push Arvid out of the room. “It’s rude to keep your date waiting. Have fun and thank us at the wedding!”

There’s no way he was turning this down.

~~

Second (curly hair! Reader)

“You have a bird’s nest up there or what?” You asked as soon as soon as you saw his messy curls. They were normally all over the place, but now they were just frizzy, and they lost their form. His hair was still wet since he just got out of the shower, but even then, the curls were still crazy.

“What do you mean? This is what they’re always like,” He defended as he walked through the room, putting his clothes away. He had just returned from training in Milton Keynes, so it would make sense if he forgot to take care of his curls. Plus, you were the one to remind him most of the time, and you didn’t go.

“When you finish putting your stuff back, meet me on the bed,” You sighed as you walked into your ensuite to grab your spray bottle, curl cream, and a comb.  You made your way back to the room, setting the stuff off to the side, and putting a movie on the T.V. You sat crosslegged in the center of the bed as Arvid finally finished up and laid down down with his head in your lap. “I’m just gonna form your curls real quick, then we can go get dinner.”

“I’ll fall asleep.”

“Well, I’m not letting you leave this house looking like that.”

“Fair enough,” He chuckled as he reached to grab all of your supplies to hand them to you when you need them. “Spray first?”

“Just a little,” You said as you felt around his hair, “It’s still fairly wet, so we shouldn’t need to spray a lot.”

“Okay,” he responded as he sprayed the water around his head before handing you the curl cream. “Do you want to start mixing the cream while I comb this?”

“Look at you learning from the hundred billion times I’ve shown you how to care for your hair,” You teased as you leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead and grabbed the container. Arvid sat up a little to comb through his hair while you mixed through the cream. When Arvid was satisfied with his job, he laid back down again and handed you the comb. 

You parted a section and combed through it one more time to be sure, and then put the curl cream in it. You used your fingers to make sure the cream was evenly spread through his curls before twirling the hair between your fingers. Then, you unraveled it and moved on to the next section.

It was therapeutic for you, and for Arvid, too. You were able to mindlessly form his curls in no time. And Arvid was right. He did fall asleep.

~~

Third (established relationship!)

 “Arvid, I’m cold-” You didn’t even have to finish your sentence before he was taking his jacket off and putting it around your shoulders. You were sitting with a group of drivers outside before free practice, and it was a little colder than you prepared for. “Thank you love.”

“Anytime,” He replied, disregarding the laughs from the other drivers as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. Then he grabbed your hand to keep your fingers warm, as he said. 

“You’re a simp, Arvid,” Dino laughed when everyone calmed down.

“Do you have a significant other?” Arvid teased, causing everyone to laugh. “Huh, didn’t think so. When you get one, you can talk shit.”

“Arvid, that was rude,” You jabbed him in the ribs immediately, “Apologize.”

“Sorry, Dino,” Arvid groaned, glaring at Dino but his eyes melted when they fell on you. “Does that work?”

“Don’t ask me,” You replied simply, “I’m not the one you’re apologizing to. Ask Dino.”

“They’ve got you on a leash,” Dino laughed, “Anyways, I guess I can forgive you.”

“See?” Arvid gestured to you, “I’m forgiven.”

“Good for you,” You teased, patting his head before standing up. “I’m gonna go get a smoothie. Wanna come with?”

“Always,” Arvid said immediately, jolting up to follow your retreating figure as you didn’t wait up for him. 

“I swear,” Dino said to the group, “They are the cutest and most insufferable couple I’ve ever seen.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[anna-hawk]

Title: Us, Character: Shane pls I am in desperate need of more Shane content

Send me a character or ship + a title

“You gonna come with me?”

It had been one week since Shane had asked you that question. One week since you'd said yes. And yet, the two of you were still here, at the farm.

With every additional day going by, Shane felt more and more antsy. He and Rick had come to a sort of truce, but both men knew that the rift between them had grown too large to be mended. Shane couldn't help the pang of sadness at losing his best friend after decades of them going through thick and thin. Times had changed… Everything had changed. Them included.

While Shane was cleaning his rifle on the porch steps, he watched you talking animatedly with Maggie, Dale sitting on his beloved RV and adding a comment here and there as he was wont to do. Shane couldn't hear what you were saying, but he still smiled as you burst out into laughter at something Maggie said. The smile fell from his face a second later, replaced by a contemplative frown, his eyes lowering to the weapon instead. Contrary to him, you got along with almost everyone. You'd clashed with Dale a time or two, and the way you rolled your eyes at some of the older man's comments had Shane snorting in amusement each time. The person you got along with the least, though, was Lori. It wasn't so much that you fought a lot, although you'd had a few heated arguments in the months since you'd joined the group, but more that you and Rick got along really well. She obviously didn't appreciate the fact that he kept looking for your input on things, no matter if he didn't like what he heard. Lori's jealous side would have made Shane laugh if he hadn't been feeling the same way. Because while Lori was the person you liked the least, Shane was the one you spent the most time around. You might agree with some of the things that Rick said, but you still shared Shane's opinions. You had from the day you'd joined the group back in the woods.

The thing was that while the attraction was clearly mutual from the get go, neither of you had tried moving things along. Shane didn't really know why, but the timing just seemed off every time. Which was ridiculous, to be honest, considering what the world had become. It wasn't like he could ask you on a date. Your lives were hanging on by a thread if you weren't careful even for a second, so he should have just gone for it the couple of times you had come close to kissing.

It had been with this in mind that he'd decided to pull you aside after announcing to everyone that he would be leaving the group soon. He had expected you to think about it for a while before giving your answer, but you'd surprised him by agreeing on the spot. Just like that. As if it should have been obvious to him.

As he reloaded the rifle, Shane sighed to himself as he thought about how well you fit into the group. He looked up again to see you flip Dale off behind his back, which had Shane smiling. It felt bittersweet. Because he realized that he couldn't offer you anything by asking you to leave with him. Granted, nothing was certain anymore, but at least here you had some sort of stability. People to count on. The possibility to survive. Going with him into the unknown suddenly felt like too much to ask of you.

Putting the rifle next to him, Shane lifted his hand in a small wave as you turned around to see him watching you and waved at him with an impish grin and a roll of your eyes in Dale's direction. Shane chuckled despite the leaden feeling in his gut at the decision he'd just taken as you followed Maggie to the other side of the field.

He spent the rest of the day preparing his departure. He chose to leave without telling anyone, since he'd already said that he'd leave. The only one he went to was Rick. If only to ask him to say goodbye to Carl for him. The boy would be his only regret. Shane purposely didn't think about you as he thought about regrets.

Car loaded and ready to go, Shane waited until close to sunrise before leaving. As he neared the car, he came up short at the sight of the figure leaning against the driver's side, their arms crossed loosely.

“So you were really just going to leave without me.”

It was a statement, not a question. Shane opened the back door and slung the backpack into the car before closing it again.

“Listen-”

“Don't you dare,” you cut across angrily. “Don't you dare serve me the bullshit you came up with that made you think that you had to leave on your own.”

“I have nothing to offer you,” Shane yelled in frustration and definitely a note of despair. “They do.” He pointed at the farm.

“Then why ask me? Why ask me to come with you if you were just gonna leave without me in the end?”

“'Cause I was a fuckin' idiot, and I thought…”

“What?” you asked as Shane didn't continue.

Shane rubbed over his shaved head and heaved a long sigh.

“I thought I could be enough,” he paused for a second. “Here? You have a chance, sweetheart. You're safe. You fit in with them… I don't. Not anymore. But I can't ask you to leave all of this behind for me.”

You didn't say anything for the longest time as you just watched him. You finally pushed off the car and came to stand just a few inches away from him.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I only stayed with the group because of you? Yeah, maybe I fit in, as you said, but…” You looked away for a brief moment before looking at Shane again. “I trust that Rick will do his best to keep them safe. But if we leave together, I know that we will keep each other safe. Us safe.”

Shane's breath got stuck in his throat for a moment at your words. How could that tiny word change everything?

“Us,” he croaked, and saw you smile as the first rays of sunlight hit your face from the side.

“Us,” you breathed, lifting your hands to cup his face and finally pull him in for a long kiss.

[epersonae]

I wrote this originally as a reblog of something else, but after letting it sit in drafts for a while realized it needed to be its own thing. (but do go read that post, it was what got me thinking in this specific direction) I have not edited it much, other than to remove some intro about the kind of shitty day(s) I was having in my non-online life that were part of why I wrote something and then sat on it.

I have been thinking about

Don't like, don't read

(I saw this with rainbow text, and I asked how the fuck to do that, and frankly I don't have that level of patience, so just imagine it rainbow I guess)

And..........

Sure? We're all just here to have a good time or whatever, and Just Like Stuff, and it's exhausting being a hater (but also [stares at people I know who I've seen say all that and who are also ABSOLUTELY haters in private])

But I want something more nuanced than that. I mean that as both:

a writer of things I know other people have taken issue with (including, I remembered today, something that I heard secondhand about, in addition to the vagueblogging I've mentioned in an earlier post about my older fic)

and a reader/art appreciator who has some issues with things I've tried to read and art I've seen.

I don't what it is or how it works or how to get from here to there. I don't even really know how to do this with people I'm close to! (with the exception of having been a thoroughly obnoxious beta constantly saying "make me believe this could even happen", or pointing out conflicts with canon or whatever) I tend to silently nope out and then change my opinion of the person without ever telling them, because yeah, I'm horrifically conflict averse.

Which is why this might sit in my drafts for a long time.

And then, outside of friendships, and Difficult Conversations or whatever

I don't like pile-ons. I don't like a couple of people trying to articulate what bugs them about a piece of writing, and maybe being awkward or clumsy about it, and immediately getting drowned out by "you're being mean to my friends". (and I say that as someone who has had friends' writing receive this sort of critique! Multiple friends!) Maybe the immediate answer is, yes, the back button, but it has to be possible to dissect what's bothering you about a piece of writing (or a trope, or a ship) without it being negativity or an attack.

Here, I'll go first, because these are two things in OFMD fic that bug me endlessly, that writers I like have written, and I think they exhibit a subversion of the source material that is counter to the actual themes of the show.

Note: since I wrote all of this, I have written a little bit about my sort of complicated feelings about a fic that imho is an original novel in a trenchcoat, a sort of fic lacroix despite being very good. these examples are in the same vein as that.

Inevitable fucking disclaimer: I don't think people are wrong or bad for doing these things, I'm not going to try to make anybody stop, I practice don't like don't read (and I have some exceptions that I've enjoyed despite it being something I don't like generally)

Enemies to lovers: the whole point of Ed and Stede is that they click perfectly and immediately. They like each other! From the very first minute it's friendship and mutual admiration and delight and attraction. Enemies to lovers is a cliche that belongs to a different story entirely. I wish people would think more before jumping to that trope. (I've had an AU in my head for months that I absolutely cannot write until I solve this problem from the AU's source material) It's an interesting question to me, actually, why it seems to be so easy to write characters who don't like each other and then somehow fall in love, when the source material shows them liking each other SO MUCH right away.

Younger than middle aged: again, the whole point is that they are changing their lives, that their midlife crises brings them to the point where they can find love. I think it's a djenks Themes and Motifs thing, to have a story about getting to this point in your life and really looking at it and going "am I where I need to be?" Also it's incredibly unique and special to me after the last few years of my own rolling midlife crisis. (petty thought that I have sometimes: it is a failure of imagination about or knowledge of actual middle-aged people) Tbh, this goes double for age difference, I will nope out of that even faster than both of them being young.

And I think there's something about being able to not like something and still not be a dick about it, to know enough about what you do like to look at something and say "this doesn't work for me and here's why", to engage thoughtfully and critically (and yeah occasionally in public) while still having respect for the other person.

I am thinking also of @emi--rose and @frommybookbook and music, and their efforts to find kpop and Taylor Swift, respectively, that I might enjoy, because I don't like most of either, and I think this thing we've been doing is helping all three of us understand more about what we all do and don't like.

[pausing to think]

It occurs to me, also, that I spent a lot of time griping while editing for the benefit of all the broken hearts, about having to go back and do a lot of set up/rewriting to make some of what happens in that read plausibly. And I was soooooo bitchy about it and also that critique was all correct and it made the story stronger even aside from making it more "canonical", whatever the fuck that means in that particular setting.

And that was in the particular creative intimacy setting of working with a beta, which is different, admittedly, from random critique on the open internet.

But then I spent a while, back in the day, immersed in the TAZ questions of "is Lucretia a lesbian?" and "can Magnus ever love again?" and I wrote my rarepair (and associated polycule shipping) very much from my id, and a certain amount of "you can't tell me that didn't happen" that was based on overidentification and personal experience, but there were definitely people who were pretty publicly "ew" about it, and I had to think through my position, and both decide what felt true about and also decide to write from my weird heart, but not blindly.

Idk, I've written all of this and I'm just landing on

I think introspection is nice.

I think it's good to do, I think it's worth thinking about what you like and don't like, and maybe where that comes from, and not in a puriteen way but with sincerity and curiosity. I would like to support and encourage that spirit of artistic introspection.

[twig-tea]

City Boy, BL, and when Queerness is "Allowed"

Alright. @stuffnonsenseandotherthings tagged me in a post about City Boy and asked if I'd seen the show, because I hadn't mentioned it. I chatted with them in the comments for a bit and came around to what I want to say about this show.

For those who haven't heard of it, this is a Korean BL framed as "real"; the four actors play characters with the same names as their real names, their social media accounts treat the events of the vlog episodes as real to their lives (both their personal accounts and the show accounts, as far as I can tell), nothing on the channel says this isn't real, and the show is framed as though it's actually happening and is filmed by the actors themselves as slice-of-life, with some 'found footage'-style additions. The season is over, but the accounts still post shorts with the actors acting as the characters, and they still do lives "in character".

First, I've seen the show, and it's very well done. The acting is good, the chemistry is good, the visuals are good, the kissing is good, the story is good. If they hadn't framed the show this way I would have been shouting about it. If you want to check it out, it's on YouTube for free with subs. Check out stuffnonsenseandotherthing's post linked in the first paragraph for more about the show if you're curious.

But I was uncomfortable with the way this show has been made and marketed, and so I've stayed quiet about it.

Here's the thing. In addition to the very real problem that fans have with separating the actor from the character, chemistry from real feelings, and business gay performances from being freed from the closet, there is also something really insidious about the way people are allowed to be gay in play only, but real gay men are often hated on by fandom. The things "straight" (I put in quotes because a lot of assumptions are made all the time about BL actors) actors are allowed to do that gay men are not is infuriating.

Several months ago two of the men who appeared on His Man S1 decided to create a BL together. These are two gay men who were "shipped" by fans but did not actually date in real life. They filmed a vlog in the style of 'what their 1 year anniversary date would look like' (clearly labelled that way, but the video itself was immersive), and they got so much hate that they took down the video and backed away from making any more, and made a public apology. The criticism was that it was "cruel" to the feelings of one of the men acting in the video--infantalizing, insulting, and just more evidence that fans do not understand the difference between reality and performance.

I should say, the main shipped couple from S2 of His Man who did get together also make vlogs--real ones about their actual lives--and they seem to be thriving, thank goodness. They have more subscribers and around the same number of viewers as Cityboy_Log. But they had the power of being promoted by the show they were on partially behind their success, and they get a lot of suspicious comments about whether they are 'faking their relationship for views'. They are affectionate but not performing any heat the way City Boy does, and while they both seem pretty shy and not like they're dying to make out on camera anyway, I'm certain they have to temper what they do and show on camera in order to maintain their paid partnerships and magazine spreads. Ironically the same actions that are getting the actors of City Boy attention are what would likely get SeongHo and JunSeong "cancelled".

Anyway. All this is to say, CityBoy_Log is well done but I worry about it as a concept, and what it's setting its actors up for (and what its encouraging in fans). One change of not using the actors' real names would have been enough to make me cool with it, but it is what it is. If you're going to watch it, please watch it knowing that it's not real, and knowing that Korean gay men would not be able to make it either as fake or real content without being rejected by the audience.

[princessdimondheart]

Rave | Gaz x Reader

Pairing: Gaz x f! Reader

Summary: How Kyle met the love of his life while covered in holo glitter.

WC: 2,930

Warnings: 🔥- NSFW 18+ MDI, PnV, unsafe sex, creampie, oral f! receiving; 😭- slight angst

Edited: No; added Sarah’s outfit bc I forgot 🤦‍♀️

A/N 1: Sorry for the long wait as I healed my cut finger. It still hurts btw. I said Christmas didn’t I? It’s still Christmas here lol 😅😅 Reader is nicknamed Angel. My first smut 😳 If I messed up anywhere please tell me. I’m not 100% satisfied so I might add or change things later on.

A/N 2: I could not pick which outfit reader should wear. 😖 It’s between these two= Outfit 1 and Outfit 2: Top, Bottom ; the makeup is the same for both= Eyes, Lips ; Shoes for both but matte instead of velvet ; Nails are a bit more simple ; Kyle’s outfit will be linked in the fic. I’m not a fashion expert so I’m not sure if these fit well but I like them. I hope you enjoy! Leave a comment or note if you do. 😊

Masterlist

Character banner ©️ Me

Kyle was happy when Price decided to send him on a special training mission across the pond to the states, at least he was for a while. But then FOMO hit him when he realized that he would be missing out on a few missions. The training would last for a few months. Two months too long in his opinion, but here he was those months later and he had finally completed his training. Kyle was certain that his Captain would be proud to learn that he had made it to the top of the class. 

Now, he only had a few days left before he had to ship back out to the UK. He’d planned to chill in the barracks and maybe go to a bar for a couple of drinks. However, that was not the case when he received a random text from his cousin. 

Sarah had moved out to California from their hometown after she got accepted into UCLA. She was very excited when she heard about her acceptance. Kyle believed it was because she could now party it up without the scary eyes of their very religious grandmother baring down their necks. At least that’s how he felt when he first left home to join the military. 

Sarah had invited him to go out to a festival or perhaps it was a rave? He wasn’t sure because he had never been to one before so this was sure to be a new experience. He’d never been one to party, even less given that he’s living a military and not a typical college life style. However, he can say that he can handle his own with a couple of pints. 

He glanced back to her text to make sure that he had input the address correctly. He was lucky that her new home wasn’t too far from the base he was staying at so he could take the bus that ran through the base. Sarah had decided that the gloomy skies of England were no match to the sunny skies of Los Angeles, so after graduating she found a job in engineering and found a place to call her own. He was honestly happy for her and was genuinely surprised that she had messaged him since they had not talked in several years. He had a suspicion that their grandmother called her about him being there. 

The bus stop was only a few blocks away from Sarah’s house so he had to walk the rest of the way. It was early, almost 8 am on a Saturday, so Kyle was certain that his cousin was likely still sleeping in. He made sure that his walk took longer by taking in his environment. It must have been because of his military mindset that had him checking the area for security risks. He knows that L.A. has a bad rep but his cousin living in a decent neighborhood didn’t mean that there were no risks. Kyle didn’t see that many people out that early. Only a few dogs walkers and a mother pushing a stroller with a baby that seemed not too happy to have been woken from their sleep based on theirs incessant crying. Kyle winced when they walked by. 

Kyle made it to his cousin’s door in 15 minutes. She opened the door after two knocks with a few minutes in between. 

“Kyle! You’re here!” She engulfed him in a tight hug, her arms squeezing against his torso with enough strength to pop his back. “Ahhh!! It’s been forever!”

“Gah!” He wheezed as his arms were crushed to his sides. “You have gotten a lot stronger, Sarah. Please let me go.”

“Oh! Sorry. Sorry. I get a bit excited about this stuff. You know me!” Sarah let him go and cover her mouth with her hand to try to hide her laughter. Then, she flexes an arm. “I just did arm day so I’m pretty pumped.”

Kyle laughs, “Your noodle arms are nothing compared to mine.” He teased her while flexing his larger arm muscles. It was like they were back to being kids and laughing and making fun of each other. 

“Har. Har. Kyle!” She rolled her eyes and gestured into her home. “Get your ass inside, Popeye.”

“Who?” His brow rose. She stared at him blankly. 

“Just get in, you uncultured swine!” Sarah started pushing his back to get him in. He resisted of course, but after a few seconds he let her have her way and stepped through the threshold. 

They settled on the couch and began to catch up. He learned about her job and that although it wasn’t her dream job, she was still happy about working there. Kyle didn’t tell her that much about his work being that almost all of it was classified but he shared that he too enjoyed working with his team. Overall, they were happy that the other was happy. 

“Now, what’s this about a rave? Festival?” Kyle felt like he didn’t know what he was saying. “You wanted to go out later tonight?”

“Yeah! It’s a rave with festival vibes.” Sarah explained and he nodded along. “We have to dress up a bit so we can look cool I guess. That’s why I wanted you to come a bit early, though not this early!” 

“Sorry.” She chuckled at him. 

“Don’t worry about it. I should have known that with you military types that I should have specified the exact time. That’s on me. But! Now we have more time to go over what you’re going to wear!”

If Sarah could be more excited she’d be bouncing off the walls and out the door. Her face bright like the huge grin pulling at her lips. 

“Oh… I was just gonna go like this.” He gestured at himself but apparently that did not go over so well with Sarah. She had a grossed out face. 

“A button up with kakis? What are you Jake from State Farm?” Another cultural reference that he lacked an understanding of. Sarah’s accent had become more Americanized but her British voice would shine through on the occasion. “No, no, no! I will not be seen with you dressed like that, love!”

She stood up. “I think I know what to do.”

Kyle almost panicked. “Please, no cheeks handing out and nothing too girly.” His brows furrowed together. “Damn… what would my team say if they saw me like this??”

“They’d say nothing because they would see that you had girls hanging off of you. You know some girls like men who are in touch with their feminine side?”

“I don’t have a feminine side.” He pouted. 

“Well, now you do!” Kyle cursed himself at being more open about what she could dress him in. He just hoped no pictures made it back to the Task Force. 

~~~~~

Kyle and Sarah walked amongst the crowd heading into the music festival grounds. There were so many people there, and from what he could see, not so many security guards or police. His training had him looking around and eyeing any suspicious looking people. Although that was kinda hard when every other person had their ass and titties hanging out, with even more glitter on their bodies than he had. 

They made it through security which was just a metal detector and the guards checking their bags. Then their passes were scanned and off into the throng of people they went. 

“My friends texted that they were near the food stalls.” Sarah glanced up from her phone. “I told them we’d meet up with them. Come on, let’s go!”

She took off and Kyle followed after her. He felt like a protective older brother as he glared at anyone who gave her weird looks of lust. Sarah was pretty and everywhere she went she always garnered looks of appreciation from strangers. She was currently wearing a yellow outfit that complimented her skin tone rather well. Her hair was long and styled back in curls. Large hoops adorned her ears. She was also wearing a large yellow coat which he thought she was crazy for because of the heat, but she assured him that it would get colder as the night went on. He was certain that her new white shoes wouldn’t stay that way afterwards. 

~~~

His own outfit wasn’t too bad if he was honest, although the sheer crop top was new for him. He liked the baggy pants that Sarah picked out and he paired it with his black combat boots. Sarah had given him two thumbs up and started messing around with her makeup bag. He was checking his outfit out in front of the mirror when he saw a hand with a makeup brush making its way to his face. 

“Woah! What’ya doin’!?” He pushed her hand away. Sarah huffed. 

“Just adding to the vibes. Come on it’s just some glitter, you’ll look so hot that girls will be falling all over you.” She grinned. 

“You say that but I’m not so sure…” He squinted at her. 

“Ugh! Just let go!” She shook her arm around. 

“Okay, Elsa.”

“Bitch-!”

~~~~~

Sarah found her friends in the crowd by the food stalls. She squealed and yanked on his arm in their direction. Introductions were made and the group went together where the concerts were happening. The crowd wasn’t as pushed together as Kyle thought but he never took his eyes off the group for too long, not wanting to lose sight of his cousin. Call him overprotective if you want. 

They found a spot near the middle of the crowd. The girls danced around him and he bobbed his head to the music despite it not being to his taste. Maybe he tapped his foot but he won’t admit it. Although, he’ll admit that the live band was rather good. 

From the corner of his eye he saw arms shoot up and wave around. He followed the movement down and saw the form of a girl dancing and singing along to the song. Her wrists had multiple beaded bracelets, fingernails perfectly manicured. Her lips were in a smile, sparkling with her lipgloss, and her eyes reflected the bright colors of the strobe lights. Her makeup was pretty but he had no real knowledge about that. The more he looked the wider his eyes dilated. 

The girl wore a black three-piece bra, high-waisted bikini bottoms and skirt-wrap combo with flowers and tuffs of faux feathers. Her arms had long sleeves and she wore a matching choker necklace. Chains dangled from her form and bounced as she jumped and danced. His eyes lowers down her legs and to her feet in very tall heels that he was amazed she was jumping around in. He thought she’d break an ankle. 

When his eyes went back to her face, she was already looking at him. Brow raised in question and lips slightly pouted. Damn those lips. He flinched back a bit when their eyes connected. His cheeks burned at realizing she caught him eyeing her up. 

“Hi!” She said rather shyly, or really, she yelled over the music. 

It took him a moment to respond. “Hello, Miss?”

She yelled her name but said that everyone called her Angel, and he gave his own in return. The music changed to a faster beat and the people around him were dancing closer to each other. 

“Wanna dance?” Her hand reached for his, fingertips sliding softly up on his forearm. He could feel the slight scratch of her nails. It sent shivers up his back. 

He felt like a teenager with the slight nod to her question he gave. His damn voice was caught in his throat. He was better than this. Smoother at flirting with pretty ladies but right now all of his experience was failing him. 

She giggled at him, not that he could hear it but felt it as she drew herself closer to his chest. Her breasts pressed to his shear shirt. Her hips swayed with the music and his hands automatically rested themselves there. Angel raised her hands, gliding them on his chest. Her fingers teased the sides of his throat before curling behind his neck. 

As her nails scratched the short hairs there, he brought her hips closer to his. She was definitely aware that she was affecting him physically. He ground his hardness against her. They both moaned at the feeling. His eyes were droopy with lust, they glanced at her pouty lips. Someone from behind bumped him closer and he let his lips lock with hers. 

Kyle’s hand tangled in her hair pulling her closer. She moaned and his tongue slipped past and tangled with hers. He tasted her lipgloss and the sweetness of the alcohol she drunk earlier that night. Both reveled in each other’s touch. 

The moment was cut short by whoops and whistles to their left. When they separated, Kyle looked over and saw his cousin and her friends cheering him on. Sarah must have noticed that he wasn’t as close to them as before. His cousin gave him a thumbs up and a fist pump. The girl in his arms hid herself in his chest, her cheeks warming. As if she wasn’t just grinding up on him as they were making out. 

“Ah… sorry, that’s my cousin and her friends.” He chuckled, abashed. 

“It’s okay.” Angel smiled at him, taking in his pretty eyes. 

~~~~~

They spent the next few hours dancing, kissing, and occasionally touching more than what would be socially acceptable. During one of the set changes, Kyle introduced her to his cousin and her friends. They hit it off rather quickly. At the end of their night, Sarah decided to stay overnight with her friends and Kyle chose to go home with Angel after she invited him. Her apartment wasn’t too far from where they were at anyways. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t usually do this. Bringing home a stranger.” She glanced down. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t do that either.” His lips tugged into a small grin. 

She looked up at him and smiled softly. Her eyes drifted to his lips. Kyle noticed and began to inch forward until their lips met. It was soft. Her lips and the motions were slow and sweet. Very different to the one in the heat of the festival. Her hands rubbed up his mesh shirt, nails scratching softly through the thin fabric before clasping tightly behind his neck. His own hands rubbed on her waist in slow circular motions. 

Their kisses and touches ached and Kyle began to quickly lead her back into the room. Not that he knew where he was going. His first mistake as the beautiful woman he was currently in a delicious lip lock fell from his arms. 

She yelped when her body hit the back of her couch. The suddenness of it causing her to tip backwards. She landed on the plush cushions with a soft ‘oof.’ Kyle looked down at her in shock, mouth open but no words came out. Part of her legs and feet dangled over the top. She looked up at him, eyes glancing back and forth between his own, dumbfounded before her the corners of her lips turned up and a giggle started. Then it turned into full blown laughter. Kyle grinned at her cute reaction and joined with a chuckle. 

She lifted her hands up to him and as he began to pull her up, she yanked him down over the couch with her. Giggling all the while. His arms stretched out to catch himself on the cushions. He could barely think before her lips were on him once again. This time there was more heat to it. More passion. 

Her hands were cupping his face. Fingers rubbing softly against his freshly shaven face. He shifted their bodies into a more comfortable position and put his weight onto one arm before bringing the other hand up. He let it glance lightly against her body until it rested softly against the crook of her neck and shoulder. His thumb rubbing her neck with an equal softness. 

He felt more than he heard the soft groan that left her lips, muffled by his own. Her legs shifted and he felt her knees up against his hips. Kyle gave into the temptation and lowered his lower body until he was flush against her. This time he heard her moan. He shivered in delight. 

Her tongue flicked out to lick his lips and he let her in. Their tongues danced against one another. Damn he loved the taste of her. 

Angel pushed him back so that she could reach behind her to unclip her top. His mouth immediately latched on her nipple. Her back arched, a pleasured sigh escaping her lips. She felt herself getting wet, her slick soaking her black bottoms and she bucked her hips into Kyle’s. His moan vibrated through her chest. 

Kyle kissed her chest some more before sliding back and removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. Her hands helped him pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 

“Where’s your bed?” He held her hands and helped her up off the couch. Angel led him to her room, she removed the rest of her clothes and heels and laid her bare self on the soft bed. Kyle stood by the doorway and just stared at her beauty. Her legs were slightly open and he could see the glimmer of her slick weeping from her pussy. 

Angel’s face burned at his intense gaze. “Kyle?”

That broke him out of his lustful haze, swiftly removing his boxers. He hung heavily, his arousal twitching against his navel. The tip flushed and his veins throbbing. Angel licked her lips as he grew closer. 

Her hand reached for his cock but was quickly intercepted by Kyle’s larger hand. “Let me…”

Angel let herself fall back as Kyle took his place between her legs. Instantly sucking and licking at her soaked pussy. His hands held firmly on her thighs, not letting her rub against his head. Kyle’s tongue flicked on her clit and she moaned rather loudly that she was sure she’d get a complaint about it later. 

“Oh, fuck! Kyle!” Her nails scratched at his short hair. 

The wet, juicy sounds of her slick and Kyle’s sucking turned her own, making her even more wet. He licked stripes up and down her pussy, then slipped a finger in rather easily. She was panting now, little moans interdicted with louder ones. 

He added a second and then a third, really stretching her out for him. The bed sheets had her juices pooled beneath her. His fingers pumped faster and his mouth sucked harder on her clit. She moaned loudly as her walls clamped down on his fingers as she orgasmed around them. The sounds coming from her nearly made Kyle cum but he held the base of his cock with his free hand to stop his load from blowing too early. 

His fingers slipped from her pussy and he watched as her slick lips clenched around nothing. 

“Kyle, please…” Her eyes were pleading, flicking between his eyes and his straining dick. 

“Angel…” He moaned as he tapped his tip against her clit. She wiggled her lower half in an attempt to get him inside her. She whined when he pulled away but groaned as Kyle pushed his tip just barely inside. 

He huffed and then pushed all the way in, earning himself beautiful, pleasure-filled noises. He was halfway in when she half sat up and pulled him closer, locking their mouths in a heated kiss. His hips jerked forward the final few inches until their hips were touching. His arms and thighs shook from the pleasure he was feeling. Her plush pussy was sucking him in, clenching against his thick cock. Desperately trying to milk him for what he’s got. And he had a lot to give. 

The first few thrusts were overstimulating, so Kyle went torturously slow. It didn’t last too long before he was pounding into her sweet pussy faster. Their bodies coming together created wet lewd sounds. His cum filled balls slapped against her ass with each hard connection. Kyle could feel her wetness dripping down his balls. The viscous fluid becoming creamier with each thrust. 

“There ya go, love.” Kyle panted. “Look at those tits bouncing every, every time I fuck my cock into ya.”

He looked down at her boobs bouncing with his thrusts. A hand reached out to pinch at her nipple. Her hips bucked in sync with his. 

“Ah! Ah! Kyle!” He pinched and twisted her nipple harder. “Fuck! Fuck!”

He thrusted his cock into her faster than before. His balls beginning to tighten while her walls clenched harder onto him. 

“Kyle~!” Her voice going a higher pitch. The bed creaked with their thrusts. 

“Shit! Ah! That’s it, love!” Kyle’s eyes began to roll back as his creamy cum left his body and streamed into hers. “Yes, ah! Fuck! Fuck!”

The feeling of Kyle’s hot cum squirting into her made Angel cum harder than she’s ever cummed before. Her legs shook violently and her back arched off the bed. Kyle’s pace slowed but her didn’t slip out as he came to a stop. Both panted hard and Kyle wrapped his arms around her, flipping them over still connected. 

A surprised squeak slipped her lips and he chuckled. Then she groaned softly at the new position. He didn’t move, however, instead tightening his hold on her. 

“Cuddler?” She teased, palms splayed over his chest. She could feel how fast his heart was beating as he took deep breaths. 

“Can’t blame me for hugging an Angel.” The laugh that shook her body was making Kyle giddy. The movement made him groan as her pussy clenched on his softening cock. 

“S-sorry.” She bit her lip. She took the moment to push against him and he let her go. Kicking a leg over, his cock slipped out along with a gush of his cum. “Ah!”

Kyle hissed as his cock slapped against him covered in both their fluids. He felt his dick hardening watching his cum drip from her twitching pussy lips. 

Angel then laid next to him, her head resting against his chest. Her hand reached over his stomach to his hand. She held it as she slipped one of her bracelets she made for the festival over onto his wrist. 

“To remember me…” She said it so softly, he almost missed it if he wasn’t staring at her in awe. His cheeks burned as feelings he’s rarely ever felt before churned in his chest. Her dilated eyes looking back just as fervently. 

On its own, Kyle’s hand reached for her chin pulling her into a deep kiss. She moved over him again, one of his hands on her ass cheek to help not that she needed it. He gave it a tight squeeze making her moan into his mouth. 

They continued their moment together past sunrise. Kyle made sure to bring her pleasure as many times as Angel could take. He hoped he’d spend more time with her in the future but knew it was unlikely since he lived on another continent. Silently, she hoped the same thing. 

Masterlist

🔖 Taglist:

@sae1kie

[quinloki]

Hiiiii again had to tell you that i can't take the suspense for yandere Marco 😅 out of my mind hahaha

Alright \o/ Yandere Marco thoughts! I can't apologize for the delay it was most assuredly needed, but I appreciate the patience <3

Let's dive in -

expectedly - CW: Yandere, description of violence

Yandere Marco is subtle. Like his own controlled expressions, no one would suspect what lies existed beneath it all.

The only one who knows is you, and even then it's only because he didn't have time to be subtle with you. The Moby doesn't stay in port for long, and he only had a few days to court you instead of a few months.

In a modern AU, you'd fall into his web so neatly you'd simply never know. You'd never hear the concerned voices of friends who faded away slowly over the years. You'd never see the corpses of those who didn't back off. You'd never suspect the trackers worked into your shoes and clothes, in case you lost your phone.

In a modern AU you'd be wined and dined and intoxicated on the subtle smile and passionate eyes burning into your soul. Delirious on the sweet scent of someone who seems unconcerned about anything else, so long as your thoughts turn to him, your hands tangle with his, and your lips are solely for him.

But in the original universe, you know.

The fire that heals his wounds without leaving a mark are probably the last time you try to push him away. He'd been nice the first couple of days, you'd been interested, but the pirate would leave, so you assumed, until he told you how you were going to come with him.

No plea for you to do so, just a simple statement.

He went from suave and handsome, to twisted and terrifying.

Your disagreement had gone from verbal to physical quickly, though you had been the first to lash out. He'd taken everything you'd thrown at him, and as your own strength waned, your attack at become more desperate. The lumber axe you used to prep for winter had been sheer desperation, and you hadn't expected it to connect.

He accepted the blow, and you even heard bone crunch from the heavy swing, but that unbothered expression didn't change. If anything it softened as he pulled the axe away gently and strange teal and gold flames undid the damage. The only detail that remained was blood stained into his shirt around the tear from the axe.

The understanding that sinks into you is deeper than the axe into his body.

and you know, you already knew at that point how revered he was, how, as the Division 1 commander of the famous Whitebeard pirates, he was akin to a noble compared to you. The sweet smile on his lips as he sushes you softly, the compassion in his voice as he soothes your rising fears, wiping away the silent tears streaking down your face and you come to understand it all.

And so you accept it, and him, and you go along peacefully. There's no other choice truly, and he goes out of his way to appease you, to avoid harming you. The few times his grip gets rough he clears the offending mark from your skin.

That's another moment when you really understand it all.

Eventually the ship gets a new crew member. A wild young man full of fire - literally. It's the first time in years since Marco's attention isn't 100% on you. You can see a similar inevitable fate closing around him, as he throws all he has into trying to bring down Pops, but you know this crew. The young man couldn't bring down any of the commanders on his own, never mind Pops.

There is one thing though, with the addition of him and his crew, there are now people on the ship who won't automatically tell Marco anything and everything you say to them. You know from the others it's not malice, but care and concern that spurred them on, but you learned quickly to not confide in anyone.

Through a few quick conversations, you get Duece's assistance in getting off the ship. His loyalty is to Ace, more than anyone else, and if you want to leave he doesn't see why he needs to remember that, since that's what you want.

You make it far.

You make it far enough for long enough you start to relax. To read the coo news, to watch the world. The fiery boy had been executed, and the whole crew had gone to save him. There's a pang, a knowing that sits in your heart, but nothing heavy, nothing that lasts.

You hear about the pay back wars, the return of the Straw Hat pirates, the fall of Dressrosa - news comes into your quiet little town on the small out of the way island where you've made your new life.

The world got too busy and too dangerous for him to come after you.

But

One day

As the world celebrates the birth (rebirth?) of the Sun God Nika, and a changing world, it happens.

Weaving through the streets pack with people, food and confetti you make your way home. You had a late shift, and you've given all you had to the celebration, but now you need rest.

Opening the door to your small home you sense it before you see it - sharp, fiery blue eyes, regarding you kindly as the door to your home closes softly behind you.

"Pretty bird," he says softly. Warmly. Kindly.

[breakfastteatime]

Today's request is for @drgeektoyou who asked for 'Little Rituals'.

Prauf comes to a stop in the dark, smelly hallway. "Here we go, pal, here's your apartment. Last guy left it tidy, which is pretty unusual around these parts."

“What happened to the last guy?” Cal asks before he can stop himself. He really hopes no one was murdered here. Those kind of echoes are some of the worst.

“Accident with the ship cutter’s what I heard,” Prauf says. “Then again, maybe he paid off his indenture and got the hell out of here. You never can tell ‘round here unless you see it or hear it yourself!”

Laughing at his own joke, Prauf opens the door and flicks on the lights, revealing a dingy room beyond. It contains a bed, a tiny table with a stool, and one corner is dedicated to food prep. There's no refresher - Cal's got to share with everyone else on his floor... which isn't so different from the Brave. The space is half the size of his old quarters. It’s cold, there’s a faint smell of rust, and Prauf can't stand straight because the ceiling's so low, but it's home, and better than the rocks he'd slept under out in the wastes when his body gave in and refused to walk another step without rest. Probably better than the bunkhouse he’s been in for the past few months too.

"Like it?" Prauf asks.

No.

"Yes," Cal says.

"You remember what I told you?" Prauf asks.

Find a good place to stash for his credits and loot, fix everything that breaks as fast as possible, always hang clothes up to dry, and never forget to lock up. It’s the little rituals that make Bracca easier – according to Prauf. Cal looks up at his friend. "I remember."

“Good, good. Okay then, I’ll let you get settled in. Oh, and set an alarm so you don’t oversleep. Can’t be late the day after we get you set up in your own place. I’ll see you at the station in the morning. Have a good night, Cal.”

“Night, Prauf.”

Left to his own devices, Cal’s first job is to change the access codes to his apartment. After weeks in a bunkhouse where he’d watched plenty of people stealing from each other, he knows nothing in here will be secure until he alone knows the code and purges any secondary backups. It’s thanks to Hack he knows how to do it, except Hack is dead now because Cal deflected a blaster bolt right back at him while fleeing the Brave. Cal focuses on the digital puzzle ahead of him, unwinding the code and finding someone’s master override. He wipes that, wipes everything, and programs a new code. He also programmes it to autolock after three seconds in case he ever runs out and forgets to lock up. He’ll have to update the code monthly, another habit to get himself into if he wants to stay hidden. If someone did break in and find the lightsaber he’s got to hide in here, his life would be over in a heartbeat.

Access code changed, Cal pulls off his poncho and hangs it up to dry. He decides to keep his boots on for warmth. Then, he starts pulling the tiny apartment apart. The previous inhabitant left nothing behind. Nothing but echoes, anyway, and most of them are feelings of weariness or frustration that his indenture doesn’t seem to be shrinking. There are a couple other echoes from people who’d cleaned out the place after the last resident died, taking anything they could get their hands on. Cal decides to create several stashes. It’s safer that way, and if anyone breaks in, they’ll probably get distracted by finding credits or tools long before they go anywhere near his lightsaber. He’s so thorough, he even finds an undiscovered stash behind a power outlet. He can’t believe no one found it, and he finds himself fifty credits up. The previous inhabitant’s joy washes over him as his hand closes over the money. Offering the dead person a silent thanks, Cal leaves it there. It can be the start of an emergency escape fund, and it’s where his lightsaber can go. He’ll need to keep a bag packed just in case he ever needs to make a run for it.

Next, Cal makes a mental list of what’s broken in the apartment and what he’ll need to fix first. He can’t afford to run the heating, so he’ll have to find every cold spot and block it. Either that or he’ll need to requisition some extra clothes from the Guild.

Cal sits on the bed, his own exhaustion mingling with the echo of the last occupant. He doesn’t have any pillows or blankets, so he’ll have to use his poncho once its dry. He’ll go to the market and buy some essentials on his next scheduled downtime. He’ll have been paid by then too. He could break into his unexpected credit find, but no, he’s got to stick to his rules if he wants to stay hidden. It’s no good blowing the credits on blankets and pillows if a stormtrooper kicks his door in and tries to drag him away. He has to remember the three rules for survival.

Don’t stand out.

Accept the past.

Trust no one.

He’s not going to survive if he doesn’t follow those rules. He’s got to stay quiet, accept that whatever he was before is not who he is now, and no one, not even Prauf, can be trusted with the truth.

Trust only in the Force. Cal’s trying, he really is, but survival is his top priority, and it starts here in his new home. Stick to the rules, follow the routine, have an escape plan and maybe, maybe, he won’t die.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Josephine had been sitting with Antoine for hours. Her years at the brothel had taught her what to do when someone was drunk and unresponsive; so with great difficulty she had hoisted Antoine off his back and into an upright position. She stayed there next to him, smoking an endless chain of cigarettes as she monitored his breathing and occasionally attempted to wake him again.

Her brother’s physical presence didn’t make her feel any less alone there. Giorgio was gone, almost all of her friends were gone, even Zelda was gone. She was only thankful that Violette wasn’t here to see this.

Jo hadn’t seen her brother drink this way in almost a decade. Sure, they had drank far more than they should throughout their youth, who hadn’t? The halls of Storyville were practically flowing with champagne, and she wouldn’t see a John or get on stage without at least a bottle.

And all their lives she and Antoine had liked drinking. Even before she had started working, they would often galivant through the clubs of Storyville together as teenagers. Dressed in whatever clothes they could gather from the pieces men left at the brothel, they would pretend to be upstanding, paying gentlemen.

Of course the owners of the clubs all knew who they were. Delphine’s little ones. So late at night, when couples began to pair off and the men were too drunk to notice the interlopers, the bartenders passed them shots of whiskey or champagne and let them dance to the piano without paying the cover fee. It was how Antoine has learned how to play, how he had heard Jelly Roll and Tony Jackson in their primes.

Josephine realized that looking back now, it was perhaps a bit sad: two teenagers given free reign of the vice district as their mother worked. But in the moment she only remembered them feeling free and happy, and having each other amidst the heavily gilded debauchery all around them.

But once he got back from the war, it had all changed. Antoine never drank for fun after that. Only to forget, or to rage and get into fights; only to pass out on the floor of the club, disappointing their mother and teaching Josephine how to rouse him from yet another drunken episode.

Josephine was pulled from her memories by a groan at her side.

“Jo?” He asked, lifting his head, “Fuck, was that you? Had you been here all along?”

As she shook her head yes, he rubbed his temples, the hangover clearly already settling in, “Did you hear all that? Everything I said?”

“Some of it,” she answered, unwilling to say how much. She had always assumed that he wouldn’t want to leave, always assumed it wasn’t worth telling him about Giorgio’s offer, just as he had never told her that Gio had offered him part ownership in the farm.

Neither of them wanted to be the first one to jump ship, to abandon their home or their mother’s memory; but at that moment they both knew that they were ready, both thought it separately without wanting the other to know.

Instead Antoine cleared his throat, doing his best to hide his thoughts from his sister, “Have you heard from Zelda? She should be home by now, shouldn’t she?”

Josephine shook her head, not wanting to acknowledge her own fear that perhaps Zelda wasn’t coming home at all. Each day they woke, expecting a telegram with the information of her return ship; yet each day it didn’t come, until weeks became months and its arrival seemed less and less likely.

Josephine buried her fears and stood on unsteady heels. She offered her hand to her brother, “Come on, let’s get you some food.”

Antoine took her hand, the room once again beginning to spin as he rose to his feet. Jo put her arm around his waist to steady him and they crossed the now empty dance floor. Unbeknownst to her, the wisps of phantoms still danced there, threatening to pull Antoine under once again. He leaned his weight onto his sister, trying to ignore their calls and bury the whole ordeal deep in his mind.

Part 2/2

[hagelpoint-3821]

Summary: Sydnee has been in a long term relationship with her boyfriend Brandon Hagel. While Hagel and the Tampa Bay Lightning were on their longest road trip of the season, Sydnee slips into a deep depression, as mental health has been a problem with her ever since she was little. When Brandon gets back from the trip, he realizes she does something she knows better than to do. A verbal fight breaks out between the couple and Sydnee finds her way to Jon Cooper’s house who ends up becoming a father figure to her when she needed him the most.

Word Count: 13,605

Notes: ‘It’s Over Isn’t It’ is a fic that is not meant to be light and fun. It is meant to bring light to mental health and to reach out to people when you are in that dark place. In honor of Mental Health Month, I felt that this was fitting to write and post. Remember, your mental health matters, and people care. You are not alone, no matter what your mind is telling you. Coming from mental health issues myself, I know the feeling when your mind gets so dark and lonely you feel as if you have nothing left, but never give up that fight. One day it does get better. I promise.

TW: Self Harm, Verbal Fighting, Bringing up Mental Issues.

P.S.: This fic is written is multiple POVs. As there is a POV change there is a page break marker as well as the person's name in Bold lettering to let you know who's POV it is written in.

Sydnee

The bolts were in the middle of their longest road trip of the season, leaving me alone to my own devices for the time being. Brandon wanted me to tag along but the other girls weren’t going so I felt as though I would be in the way of everyone.

As I sit outside on our porch, the warm Florida air fills my lungs and I sigh deeply, as much as I love being in a relationship with Brandon and supporting him, these times alone are the worst part about it.

I pull my phone from my pocket, half expecting a message or a call from Brandon but knowing their schedules and how tight they run that ship over there I’m not completely surprised, though it would be nice to be able to call him and hear his voice.

Sighing, I tuck my phone away and walk back inside, the house seems more quiet than normal, and eerie feeling comes over me as it starts to feel empty without Brandon being home. Not being able to cuddle up to him in the night, to be able to protest waking up in the mornings, his smell on the pillows slowly fading away.

Brandon, please come home soon.

As the day goes by, I fall into my normal routine, make myself some lunch, sit back outside, read some of my book, go inside, take a nap on the couch, wake up and watch their game, make dinner, shower, and go to bed in one of his hoodies. It’s been the same thing for two weeks now since they have been gone and while I like routines, I like having him home more. Just a few more days until he is home, I can do this.

The next morning rolls around quickly, the sun shining brightly into the windows of the bedroom and across my face, I look over at my phone to see it’s already 9:30 in the morning and still no text or calls. Strange. I’ve usually heard something by now. So I send him a quick text and toss my phone back on the bed. Normally I’d get up and go outside but I don’t feel like it today, my mental health says we need to stay in bed, and I think I’m just going to listen and rest.

The day goes by slower than normal, no calls, no text. Doubt starts creeping in that he will never come home and he doesn’t want me anymore but I quickly push those thoughts away.

“No. He wouldn’t do that, he loves me too much.” I say as I reach over and grab a picture of us off the nightstand and gently brush my fingers over the frame, “I just wish you would call home. I miss you.”

I hug the frame tightly to my chest before placing it back on the nightstand and roll to his side of the bed, wrapping my arms tightly around his pillow and softly cry into it, letting my thoughts wander to all the things he could be doing at the moment. Is he just with Brayden and the guys? Is he skating or at the gym? Is he out partying, getting drunk and taking some pretty blonde back to the hotel to hook up with her?

Sydnee stop it, he wouldn’t do those things to you!

All the negative thoughts cloud my head and make my stomach churn, I quickly push myself off the bed and run into the bathroom, throwing up what little things I had left in my stomach now into the toilet.

“He wouldn’t leave me… would he?” Pulling myself from the bathroom floor, I splash some water onto my face and take a few shaky breaths and lean against the sink, looking in the mirror.

That’s when I notice all my flaws, my nose is slightly crooked, I don’t have bright blue eyes, instead I’m stuck with these stupid brown ones, dark brown hair instead of puck bunny blonde, my smile isn’t big and full like the others, sunk in cheeks. I lift my sweater and look at myself, slowly becoming more and more disgusted with myself.

“Maybe if you weren’t so fat and covered in scars he would love you still.” I whisper to myself, tears threatening to fall.

Sliding down the bathroom wall, pulling my knees into my chest, I let them fall silently. “It all makes sense now, I knew loving him was too good to be true. No one can ever love this mess of a person that I have become.”

Silent cries escape my chest as the silence around me gets too loud to handle, the pain in my chest too much to handle. Slowly I pick myself up off the ground and splash some water on my face and grip the sink, “it just needs to stop. The pain. It hurts too much to handle right now. Brandon I’m so sorry I am not what you think I am.”

I slowly reach into the bathroom drawer of the sink, grabbing a razor blade and holding it in my hands. Sitting back on the bathroom floor.

Sydnee you’ve come this far, don’t let it take over.

“I’m so sorry.” Slipping my sweatpants down and let the cool blade trail down the top of my thigh. As I rest my head against the bathroom wall, I sigh deeply, “t-there it is.”

As I watch the blood pool onto my leg I bit my lip to fight the tears, adding more cuts across my skin before finally taking a breath and tossing the blade into the sink. Taking a towel and wrapping my leg up before grabbing the medicine and bandages from the cabinet.

“At least he won’t be able to see these here, not like he would want to touch me anymore anyways. Good for nothing, a waste of space.”

After I clean my leg up and make sure the blood covered towel is thrown in the garbage I carefully crawl into bed and wrap myself into the blankets. Checking my phone and seeing if I had any messages. To my surprise there was a few texts from Brandon on there.

B 💙 - hey love! I miss you lots. Sorry I haven’t called, b2b games and travels. I can’t keep it straight. Cal me soon

B 💙 - darling answer me. I’m bored in the hotel, brayden is being a turd and went to sleep.

B 💙 - I love you 💕

I scuff and look at my phone for a minute, strongly debating if I should even call him. Signing deeply I decide against my thoughts and call him, half expecting to not get an answer from him.

The phone only rang once before he picks up, “Sydnee! My god I’ve missed you.”

“Hi Brandon, it’s been awful quiet around here without you.”

“I bet. How are you?”

“Oh I’m okay, just waiting for you to come home.” If only you knew.

“I know, just a couple more days. I promise. And when I get home I’m taking you out to dinner and spoiling the hell out of you.”

“I’ll be waiting.” I smile softly and trace over the marks on my leg, “so, how’s the road life treating you?”

“Good! Different city every night it feels like but good, they’ve been keeping me busy.”

I huff under my breath, yeah I bet they’ve been keeping you busy.

“You’ve been playing great though! What is it, third most goals on the team during the road trip?”

“Well I gotta keep my girl impressed.” I practically hear him smiling through the phone.

“Well impressed I am.”

“What have you been up too since I’ve been gone?”

“Oh you know, just hanging out, wake up and sit around. Take a nap and eat lunch, clean the house and then cook dinner while watching the game and then off to bed. Pretty much the same thing every day since you left. Pretty boring I know but there isn’t much to do since you’ve been gone. Just don’t feel the need to go anywhere or do anything.”

He chuckles, “I’ll be home within a few days baby, I promise.”

I sigh and curl deeper into the blankets, “hurry, I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I’m hurrying. Every sleep is getting closer.”

“Speaking of sleep, don’t you have to sleep for your game tomorrow?”

“Well yes. But you’re more important to talk too than sleep.”

“Brandon. Go to bed. I’ll be here when you get home. Just don’t forget to text every once in a while.” I force a laugh which causes him to laugh.

“How could I ever forget you, love.”

“I don’t know, you’re a busy man.”

“Just wait till I get home. You’ll see how busy I really can be.” His smirk can be felt through the phone.

“Brandon! God you’re such a flirt.”

“And you love it.”

“Yes. I do. Now go to bed so I can see you sooner.”

“Goodnight my love, I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you too, forever.” I whisper softly.

“And always.” He says softly before hanging up the phone.

I quickly toss my phone away and cry softly into the pillows, the day quickly becoming overwhelming and too much to handle. Sleep feeling like the only option to control it. I pull the blankets tightly around my frame and softly cry myself to sleep.

The next couple days go by in a blur, my mind mostly being numb to the world, I barely get out of bed. Haven’t showered, hardly slept, haven’t eaten. I’m either asleep or curled on the couch, watching the world outside. Getting an occasional text from Brandon but I haven’t called him since the night he wanted me to call him.

I’m drifting off to sleep on the couch when I hear the front door open and someone step inside, slowly I peak over the couch and see Brandon in the doorway and taking his shoes off. I shoot off the couch and sprint up to him, ignoring the pain in my leg as I jump into his arms and hide my face into his neck.

“Don’t you ever leave me for that long again”

He sighs and wraps his arms tightly around me, pulling me as close as he can into his chest, “never my love, I promise you I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Carefully he sets me back on the ground but still keeping a firm hold around my middle, planting a soft kiss to my lips as I grab onto his shirt for balance.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you Brandon.”

“I know love, I know. I missed you too. This two weeks has been hell without you.” His arms wrap tighter around me.

“Why don’t you go unpack and settled. I’ll get dinner started.” I give him a soft smile and trail my fingers gently over his jaw.

“I was hoping you would cook tonight, I’ve missed your cooking and I’m starving.” He beams brightly and grabs my hand, placing a gentle kiss against my palm, causing my stomach to flip and the thoughts of him actually leaving fade into the shadows of my mind.

“No rush Brandon, we have all night.”

“I was away from you for 2 weeks, I’m not going to miss a minute away from you.”

I smile softly and step back, giving him room to step around me and watch him walk off into the bedroom. As he walks away I run my fingers over the fabric covering the cuts on my leg, instantly regretting what I did. He is going to kill me if he sees these.

As I get set to work into the kitchen I zone out, not hearing anything go on around me, getting lost in the cooking. I’m only pulled from mt thoughts when I feel arms around me and pulling me into him.

Shyly I look over my shoulder, humming, “mmm hi baby.”

Brandon rests his head on my shoulder, his scent filling my nose, “you need help with anything?”

“No. Please just stay here, I missed you and missed your gentle touch”

“As you wish, my love.” He trails off quietly, brushing the hair off my neck and leaving soft, open mouthed kisses against the exposed skin.

“You want to know the worst part about not having you here?” I say as I place the knife down that I was using to cut the vegetables, head starting to spin.

“Mm go on.” He says deeply, pulling me closer to his sharp and chiseled chest.

My body feeling like it’s on fire from him, “t-this. The tenderness you have, how my heart races when you touch me. A simple look from you has me falling in love with you all over again.”

He chuckles and it vibrates through my whole body, shaking me down to my core, “I too missed this, how one word, one touch…” he sighs deeply and digs his fingers into my hips, causing a soft moan to fall involuntarily, “has this effect on you.”

I watch him carefully as he picks up the knife from the counter as he chops the rest of the vegetables, me being caged between him and the counter. As I watch his fingers quickly go to work on dinner, I can’t help but let my mind wonder, the way his rough hands are working, the way they feel on me.

Sydnee enough. You need to let your cuts heal.

I clear my throat and wiggle out from in front of him, internally groaning at the loss of his body heat against my own but I had to stop before I did anything. He looks over and cocks his head to the side.

“Well that was a tad rude, thought you didn’t want me to move?

“I didn’t, I don’t trust me, but the chicken is ready to go in the oven and I wanna eat soon.” I make up a lie quick enough and give him a smile, he smiles back before going back to work. Thank god he bought it.

“B, if you want I can finish dinner. Go relax, you haven’t been home in two weeks. Go sit on the couch.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping.”

“Yes.” I offer a small smile, “go sit. Take a nap, something. You’ve been gone forever and not able to sleep in your home. I’ll wake you when dinner is ready.”

He walks up and presses a kiss to my forehead before walking into the living room and sinking into the couch, smiling softly to myself as I lean against the counter, my heart slowly healing as he is back in our home. This house is feeling like home again.

Before I know it, the oven timer is going off and I pull chicken out of the oven, quickly plating it with I the other veggies and sides, I place the plates on the kitchen table and walk into the living room. Leaning against the couch I pear over and see he is asleep, carefully I trace my fingers over his nose down to his cheek bones, to his jaw. Causing a smile to appear on his face.

Brandon slowly opens his eyes as I pull my hand away, “Syd, why did you stop?”

“Because you’re waking up and dinner is ready.” I say softly before he pulls my hand back to his face.

“Just a couple more minutes, please don’t stop.”

I smile softly to myself and let the pads of my fingers dance gently across his face, “come on B, food is gonna get cold soon.”

He sighs deeply and pushes himself off the cough, “okay okay, I’m up you win.”

I giggle softly, “don’t I always?”

“Yes, yes you do.”

Before I can think, he scoops me up and goes into the kitchen.

“Brandon! Put me down!” I giggle loudly and playfully hit him on the chest.

“As you wish.” He sets me down in the chair and pushes me to the table, “my goodness it smells good.”

“Well we haven’t tasted it yet so let’s not get too excited.”

“Oh come on, every time you make something it turns out way better than you expect it to be.”

I roll my eyes playfully and sit across from him, as he sits my eyes travel over the soft features of his face, getting lost in the darkness that his eyes bring.

“So,” he speaks up and bring me out of my trance, “what did you do while I was gone?”

“Oh… you know just stayed home mostly, read a few books and watched your games when they were on, it kind of became a monotonous routine after a bit. Eat, read, watch hockey and go back to sleep.” I sigh, running my fingers along my thigh. “It was lonely and quiet without you here.”

“Well, next road trip, you are coming with us, I don’t care if the other WAGs do not go, I want you there.”

A soft smile creeps up my face as I look at him, “I’d like that a lot.”

We eat out dinner in a relatively quiet fashion, face the simple glances and light chuckles.

As I stand to take the dishes into the kitchen Brandon grabs my hand, “darling, you cooked dinner, I’ll clean, you look more worn out than I did and you’ve been home for two weeks.”

“Well it wasn’t the highlight of my life, not being with you, sleeping was rough and I didn’t get much sound sleep while you were away.”

“Why don’t you go get a bath started and when I am done here I’ll come join you, that way we can start relaxing, together.”

I pause for a moment before looking up at him, maybe I can explain what happened before he get too mad, one can only hope, “sure, I’d like that a lot.”

He pecks my lips softly before taking the dishes into the kitchen and I quickly turn and go to the bathroom, fuck fuck fuck what am I going to do? How am I going to get out of this? I can’t just hide my leg, FUCK. Why did I agree to letting him take a bath with me?

A million and one thoughts are running through my mind as I turn the water on. I scan the bathroom in hopes to come up with an idea, when I see my bubble bath sitting on the side of the tub.

“Perfect. Now as long as my leg doesn’t come out of the water he won’t see it.” I say to myself as I pour it into the water.

I shed my clothes and sink into the bubbles and hot water, a sharp breath escaped my lips as the water makes contact with the exposed cuts. Relaxing into the warmth of the water, I close my eyes and sink down deeper so only my head is exposed. The room quickly is filled with a jasmine scent and quietly the bathroom door opens, I roll my head to the side and see Brandon leaning against the doorframe.

“Look Mr. Hagel, either in or out, you’re letting the heat out.”

He shakes his head and chuckles, closing the door behind him, “sorry, I just get lost at how beautiful you are, and moments like this make you even more beautiful. Plus it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen your pretty face, let me enjoy it.”

“Look all you want B, just don’t let my heat escape.” I laugh softly and sit up in the tub a bit, making sure my legs still stay covered, “so are you just going to stand there or see you going to join in? Come on, the water is perfect.”

“Are the bubbles really necessary?”

My breath hitches in my chest before I look up at him, “you wanted me to relax, didn’t you? These help me relax.”

“You always are something special.”

I gasp playfully and splash water at him, “look if you’re just going to be rude you can go back on the road.”

“Oh not the shirt! Come on!” He laughs and takes it off, “you know, if you wanted the shirt off that’s all you had to say.”

Shaking my head, I look over at him, “how I have missed those stupid jokes of yours, now come on and get in here.”

Brandon quickly takes the rest of his clothes off and sinks into the water behind me, wring his arms around my midsection and placing a gentle kiss on my shoulder, “I promise to you darling, I’m never leaving you for that long again.”

I rest my head against his chest, “I know Brandon, I know.”

As my eyes start to feel heavy, I rest my body against his, his fingers tracing different shapes down my arms and across my hips, as they make their way down to my legs I quickly move from him, causing water to splash over the sides.

“What was that all about? You never act like that when I touch you.” His eyes full with worry that he did something wrong.

“No it’s— you didn’t—,”I stumble trying to find the right words, “you just startled me is all, I was falling asleep and I got scared, I wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

He sighs and pulls me back in, “you silly little thing, you know I would never hurt you.”

Just wait till you find out. I think to myself before laying back against him. “I know you wouldn’t.”

As I lean back against him, his fingers go back to where they were on my leg, and this time I don’t stop him.

I feel his fingers trace up my right thigh and over the fairly fresh cups across my skin, his body going rigid behind me, “Sydnee, what the hell is that on your leg.”

My blood runs cold and I do not dare to look at him, “I-I’m s-sorry.”

His grip tightens around my leg, “why? Why did you do it?”

I try to pull away but his hands on my wrist and leg make it near impossible, “I don’t know, I was stupid and shouldn’t have done it.”

“ ‘I don’t know’ isn’t a good answer Sydnee. Why did you do it?!” His anger becoming clear in his voice.

“Because I thought you were cheating on me and didn’t want me anymore since you didn’t answer my calls or anything while you were on the road!” I wiggle out of his grip and quickly get out of the tub, throwing a robe on and he follows behind.

“You can not be serious right now. If you really think I would cheat on you, well you clearly don’t know me.”

“I told you I was sorry! You know I have separation issues and you know how hard it is for me to try and get through the days when you’re not here. While you were on the road having a blast with the guys, I was here alone. I hardly heard anything from you. I get it that you’re busy and you were in a different city almost every night but it takes two seconds to send a quick “hey I love you” text so I didn’t feel alone.”

“Sydnee, listen to yourself right now! You’re being ridiculous, and dramatic! I have given you everything I can possibly think of for you to realize that you aren’t alone in this piss poor world and this is how I get treated? I leave for two weeks for my job, the thing that brings us money, so you can stay here and not go back home to your parents and that shit hole you call a home. Come on now Syd, use your fucking head.” He pinches the bridge of his nose before looking at him, “when the hell have I ever even hinted that I wanted to leave you?”

“Y-you haven’t, but you don’t know what it’s like in my head. Like I said it was fucking stupid and I regret it.”

“Yeah. You’re damn right it’s stupid. Of all the god given things that you could have done, that’s the dumb thing you did. Let me guess, you’ve been starving yourself again haven’t you?”

I stare blankly at him, body threatening to start shaking but I stand solid in my place, “so what if I did? Doesn’t make any difference now.”

“Fucking Christ. When are you going to learn that I love you for you, I wouldn’t leave you?”

“I get it! Okay Brandon I fucking get it, I was stupid and I fucked things up.”

He shakes his head and looks at the ceiling before back to me, “normally I would disagree, but yeah, you’re stupid for this.”

“Fuck you.” My eyes burn with tears, his words feel like a knife in my chest before I turn and storm off into the closet and grab a bag. I hear his footsteps come into the bedroom behind me.

“Now where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I don’t know. I’m to stupid to know what I’m doing, remember? But I’m going. I can’t stay here.”

He doesn’t say anything else as he groans deeply and walks towards the closet, resting his hand on top of mine.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I spin away quickly, “first you criticize me for what I did, when you call me stupid right to my face knowing I have my mental issues, now you think some simple touch is going to fix it all? Don’t touch me right now.” My lip trembles as I watch him walk away.

“That still doesn’t answer my question, where are you going?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere sounds better than fucking being here right now, if you’re going to belittle me for letting my darkest thoughts win, then I can’t stay here.”

“Yes, I’m going to be pissed, Sydnee, because A) you were doing so much better. Things were finally looking up for you and you were starting to come around to the person I know you can be. And B) because I never once even had a thought of cheating on you and leaving you. You were my world the moment I met you in Chicago, that first time I saw you, I was drawn to you, there was 20,000 other people in that rink that night and you were the one that I noticed. No your sister. Not anyone else. YOU, and if you can’t see that, then I don’t know what to do. I have loved you through your good times and bad, the days where you didn’t want to live anymore, I was right there at your side, the times where you felt like you had nothing left to give, I was there. Not anyone else. I don’t want anyone else. But you have it in your thick head of yours that I would leave you, this isn’t a me problem anymore. It’s you.”

I wipe a tear from my face, “well thanks for saying how you really feel.” I don’t say anything else as I quickly throw a bag together and throw some clothes on. As I walk out of the bedroom, Brandon is sitting on the bed with his back to me, the tears start falling and this time I don’t fight them. As I walk towards the front and slip my shoes on, I only hope to hear him walk out of the bedroom to stop me, but the house is quiet. The deafening silence make my ears ring loudly as I grab my car keys from the counter and slip outside into the cool Florida night.

As I throw my bag into the front seat of my car, I look back at the house, part of me wishing I would see Brandon come running out of the front door and begging me to leave, but it’s only silence. The sky is clear and there’s a light breeze, I stay there for a couple seconds longer before getting in my car and driving off, not knowing where to go or what to do, so I just drive.

Before I realize where I’ve gone, I’m at the River Walk, the first place Brandon and I went to after we got settled in the Bay Area. I quietly get out of the car and sit on an empty bench, looking at the water. A thousand memories are running through my mind, as I hug my knees to my chest I let out a deep breath, not realizing I was even holding one.

“I just want to be numb again. I went from feeling nothing to feeling everything and it hurts.” I say to myself, as there is no one else around today, almost like I was supposed to be alone here.

Hope fills me as I pull my phone from my pocket, nothing. No call, no text, nothing from him. I feel my heart sink in my chest. I know that I shouldn’t do this, but I start scrolling through old pictures of him and I together. A soft smile comes across my face as I look through them, memories surfacing as I flip through. Until I get to one. We just had gotten home from a day at the beach in Miami, sun kissed skin and bright eyes, I was under a blanket with my head laying on Brandon’s chest, I didn’t want him to take a picture but he insisted. So I let him, after he took the picture and set his phone down he started playing with my hands, particularly my left. That is when my heart stopped after he said “one day I am going to marry you. I can’t wait to marry you.”

Now, that day feels like a lifetime ago. Tears silently fall down my cheeks and I do not bother to stop them. I bit my lip to keep quiet, as I stand and walk back to my car. I can’t stay out here where someone can see me. I sit there and rest my head against the headrest, still not knowing where I’m going to go. More driving it is.

I wonder if Jon is up? No, don't go to him. He won’t want to deal with your issues. You’re just a wreck who needs to get it together.

I ask myself as I put my car in drive, starting the drive to Jon’s house. Part of me wants to go, and another part is screaming to turn back around and go home, but I can’t go home. He doesn’t want me anymore. I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.

As I pull into his drive, taking a deep breath before grabbing my bag and stepping out of the car and quietly walking up to his front door.

There’s still time to turn back, go somewhere else. He won’t want to deal with your issues.

I contemplate turning back and leaving, but my heart can’t take anymore for the night, I just need a place to go and I don’t know where else to go.

Reaching his front steps, I knock quietly on the front door, hugging my back tightly to my chest as my heart feels like it’s going through my chest, “come on Coop, answer before I leave.”

A couple seconds tick by and no answer, so I knock again, this time a little louder, maybe he didn’t hear me the first time. I no sooner take a step back and he opens the door with a wide smile on his face but it quickly fades as he sees the bag in my hand and the broken look on my face.

“Sydnee? What are you doing here? What happened?”

“I-I, me and Brandon,” the words come out broken as the tears fall down my face and my heart starts splintering off into a million pieces, “Jon I have n-nowhere to g-go.”

He doesn’t say anything as he wraps me in a tight hug, stroking my back gently, “come inside and you can talk when you’re ready.”

I wrap my arms around him tightly and cry softly into his chest, “I just really need this right now. I have nothing left. No family. He hates me.”

Jon takes a small step back and grabs one of my shoulders, “Oh now I’m sure that isn’t the case Syd, he loves you. Let’s get inside and out of the cool weather, you can tell me what happened, come on.”

He opens the door to his home and I follow him inside quietly, “make yourself comfortable, I’ll get you some tissues and a glass of water, okay?”

He offers me a soft smile and I nod softly, sitting on the couch and still holding my bag close to me. Jon comes back a few moments later he comes back with a blanket, box of tissues and a glass of water. Before he sits next to me, he wraps the blanket around me.

“Now, what’s going on? It’s like 1 in the morning and you’re usually not out without Brandon.”

“That’s the problem, we had a huge fight after dinner, a-and I just threw this bag together, thinking it would make him snap out of the anger he was in, but it didn’t. I’ve never seen him this way, he had anger in his eyes, it was like he hated me. Not even in the playoffs could compare to what happened.” I shiver and wrap the blanket around me tighter.

Jon gives my hand a gentle squeeze, “do you mind telling me how this fight started? You do not have to if you do not want to of course. You tell me what you’re comfortable telling me.”

“Well, I have nothing left to lose so why not. It started with the road trip you guys were just on, I know he was busy but I was alone, I didn’t hear from him in quite some time and, as you learn from his time here, I’m not always mental stable and I get these doubts in my head, I had it in my head that he was cheating on me even though in my heart I know he would never actually do that. It got to the point where… where I self harmed again because my mind was going nuts. It hurt. I hurt. I needed a relief from what was going on. So I cut. My thigh looks a mess right now but that’s besides the point. The next morning when I woke up I regretted it. After he came home everything was great. He fell asleep on the couch while I was making dinner. I let him sleep because I knew he was tired from the trip. So after dinner I was going to take a bath and he wanted to join, naturally I let him and I wasn’t thinking. I wouldn’t have. Because it was in the bath that he found my cuts on my leg, that’s what caused the fight. It's my fault. It’s all my fault. Instead of trusting him I let my thoughts win and I should’ve known better.” I sniffle and wipe my face. “I packed this, hoping he would stop me but he let me leave without stopping me. I haven’t heard from him since it happened. I’m sorry I showed up so late, I just didn’t know where to go.”

Jon doesn’t say anything, just pulls me into another tight hug, “Sydnee, you’re like my daughter, you’re always going to be welcome here, and for as long as you need, you can stay here. I’m not going to make you leave when you’re going through this.”

I sniffle and rest my head against his shoulder, “thank you Jon, I’ll be out in the morning that way I don’t inconvenience you anymore than I already have.”

“Sydnee,” he trails off as he wraps his around me, “I promise you that you are not bothering me, while I do not know exactly what you’re going through, I’m not going to shove you aside. I would much rather you be here where I know you’re safe instead of some cheap hotel where you can get hurt.”

I curl up into a ball next to him, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course, speak your mind kid.”

“Can you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep? As bad as it sounds, I didn’t have a father who cared enough about me growing up, so the welcoming touch of a father figure is much appreciated right now.” I say quietly, already fearing his rejection.

To my surprise, he says nothing as he pulls the blanket over me and pulls me a little closer, “again kiddo, you’re like a daughter to me, and I will do everything I can to help you and be a father to you since you didn’t have one.”

I smile softly and look up at him, “thank you Coop.”

He places a gentle kiss on top of my head before speaking, “you’re welcome. Now get some rest, you look worn out, we can talk more in the morning when you’re thinking a little clearer, okay?”

I nod before closing my eyes, wrapping the blanket tighter around me and fall into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, I’m woken up to the sound of cooking coming from the kitchen. I open my eyes slowly, adjusting to the sunlight that is shining through the window. Slowly coming to my senses as to where I’m at, my heart sinks in my chest as I remember I am not at home and what happened the night before comes flooding back.

I sit up slowly and rub my eyes, wanting to go back to bed and forget that the past 24 hours didn’t happen. Jon looks up from the stove in the kitchen and smiles at me.

“Good morning, how’d you sleep?”

“I don’t know if it would have been better for me to stay up all night with how much I tossed and turned, at least I had a comfy place to do so. Thank you again for letting me stay here.” I yawn and stand up, stretching out my tired limbs. They feel ten times heavier than they have ever felt before. “I will get going so I don’t bother you or your wife.”

“Sydnee, she knows you are here and she also agrees that you are more than welcome to stay here until everything between you and Brandon settles down. Please stay, I don’t want you leaving when your mind is as clouded as it is right now.”

I look around, trying to avoid eye contact with him because I know he is right, I can’t go out right now, my mind hasn’t stopped racing since the fight and I have nowhere to go. “Can I please use the bathroom?” I say quietly as I cross my arms over my stomach.

“Sure, it is the first door on your right just through the kitchen.” he stands and hugs me tightly, “Lets get some breakfast in you also. Okay?”

I only nod as I shuffle to the bathroom, when I am done I stand in front of the mirror hanging above the sink. I have never looked worse in my life, hair looks like it hasn’t been brushed in days, dark circles under my eyes. God why was I so stupid to throw away the best thing that has ever happened to me?

After splashing some cool water on my face, I walk back into the kitchen and sit at the bar across the room when I hear Jon yell for his wife that breakfast is ready.

She quickly pops into the kitchen with a bright smile on her face and pecks him on the cheek, “after all those days on the road you still know how to bring a smile to my face.”

“Well we also have our very important guest and I want to make sure that she is taken care of properly.”

I offer them a small nod as I see their interaction and my heart grows colder in my chest, I should be at home right now with Brandon, bickering to him that he didn’t add enough water to the pancake mix, now I am here, alone in a home that isn’t mine. In a place here I am welcomed, yes. But I can’t allow myself to stay here for more than a couple days at the max.

Jon brings over the plates that are piled full of bacon, sausage, waffles, toast and a plate full of fruit, “Here you go kiddo, eat up.”

Jon and Mrs. Cooper sit across from me and fill their plates, I am so hungry my stomach hurts, but I can’t bring myself to eat. I know I need to, but I am numb. I feel like I am just going through the motions of life right now. I have no purpose anymore.

Mrs. Cooper sees the empty look in my eyes as she stands and gets a small plate made for me and puts it in the fridge before walking over to me and puts her hand across mine, “You don’t have to eat right now. We know you are going through a lot, go lay down if you need to, I have a plate in the fridge for you okay?”

Wiping my eyes with my other hand I look up at her. “Thank you ma’am, you both are too kind to me. You don’t have to do all this.”

“Hunny, please call me Jessie, it is okay I promise.” She give my hand a gentle squeeze.

“Oh Sydnee please, you have become like a daughter to me and my wife here. It is okay. We promise.” Jon gives me a sad smile.

“I am going to lay down for a little longer if that is okay?” I look back at the couch and sigh, not knowing what else to do.

“If that is what you need to help yourself start healing then by all means, rest all that you need. You aren’t bothering us and it is an off day so I will be home today if you need to talk.”

“Yes Sydnee, please do stay and rest.” Jessie smiles softly. “It is okay.”

I shuffle back to the couch and curl back up with my back to them, I pull the blanket tightly around me and quietly cry until I fall asleep again.

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

Jon

“That poor girl is so broken, she loved him more than life itself. My heart is so broken for her.” Jon looks over and sighs.

Jessie matches his gaze and bites her bottom lip, “she seems like such a sweet girl from what you have been telling me, I hope that they can work it out. I can tell she has a big heart and can see how much she cares about that boy.”

“You should see them Jess, the way that they are with each other. He looks at her like she is the only girl in the world. She is all he will talk about when we aren’t on the ice or if we are on the road. I hope they can make this work out. She doesn’t have much.”

“Help clean up this breakfast mess and you can tell me more about her.” Jessie motions to the table where their breakfast plates are all piled together.

“Well for starts, when they first came to Tampa after the trade, they hadn’t been together but maybe a couple months. If that, she wanted out of Chicago and he wanted her with him. From what she has told me and what has been mentioned between the two, she doesn’t have a family back home that supports her. Her parents mentally abused her and her sister always looked down on her. She was passed over all the time and living in the shadow of her sister. When Brandon came along, ironically they met at a game, he instantly became the light in her life. She was depressed before she came here with him and she was doing better but she still struggles with depression and abandonment issues. Can’t say that I blame the poor thing either. She never had a father figure, so I stepped up and I try to help her when and where I can.”

Jessie turns as she is placing the dishes in the sink and takes the pile Jon had in his hands, “you are a good man for taking her in Jon.”

“When she showed up at our doorstep last night, it broke my heart to see her like that. She is always this bright and bubbly person and seeing her whole world shatter absolutely crushed me in ways I didn’t even think were possible. Sydnee is like a daughter Jessie, I can’t let her walk away. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go or friends. I will not let her go back to her family because they will break her soul even more than they already have.”

A small smile tugs at her lips, “you always were the protective type. Glad to know that hasn’t changed through the years.”

Jon kisses her on the temple before walking into the living room and sits on a chair across from Sydnee.

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

Sydnee

A few hours later and I feel more rested than I thought I would. As I slowly roll over, I grab my phone, the slightest hope that Brandon has called or texted, but nothing was there. No calls, no text, just the reminder of what he and I use to have.

I sit up and keep the blanket wrapped around me as I look around and take in the cozy living room. There is pictures on the walls and on the coffee table. Little trinkets that Mrs. Cooper collected through the years, a nice love seat and a big tv over the fireplace. All the things making this feel like a home, a home I wish I could have grown up in.

Jon makes a move from his seat and I am so out of it I didn’t even see him sitting there, “hey kiddo, you need anything?”

“Um,” I sit and think for a second, “can I take a shower please?”

“Of course.” He stands and quickly grabs my bag off the floor. “Follow me.”

He takes me down a hallway and I assume what is past their children’s rooms, “Where are your kids?” I was so caught up last night I didn’t even realize that this might not be okay with their kids, I have to get out of here as quick as I can.

“The girls went to their friends house and my son is away at hockey camp for the week.” He opens the door to the bathroom and sets my bag on the counter, then reaches into the cabinet and grabs a fresh towel and wash rag.

“Just set the towels outside the bathroom once you are finished and Jessie will come by later and pick them up.” Jon smiles at me before walking out and closing the door behind him.

I simply nod and lock the door behind him, I turn on the water and let the steam fill the bathroom before stripping down and stepping inside, hissing through my teeth as the water hits my leg. ‘Such an idiot Sydnee, if only you hadn’t gotten in your head then you wouldn’t be in this shower, in this house. You should be back home in the loving arms of Brandon, who loved you more than the whole world. You did this. You ruined everything good that you had going for you.’

My mind is a contact battle field right now, every way I turn I get knocked down again, I just want to go home. But I don’t even know where home is now.

The rest of my shower goes by in a blur, I wash my hair and body and then stay under the heavy beating from the shower head until the water goes cold. I step out and wrap myself in the towel while grabbing my clothes from the back and everything still smells like him. The hints of his cologne flood my senses and causes another wave of emotion to flood through me.

As I slip on my hoodie and leggings, I fold the towel and place it outside the door neatly before quietly walking back into the living room. There, sitting on the table, is the plate Mrs. Cooper saved from breakfast and a glass of water, ‘okay, one meal, help clean up the mess and then out the door you go. They have a life to live also and you can’t be here interrupting the lives that they already have.’

“Hey Jon! I am going to run out and grab some groceries, if you need anything while I’m gone let me know.” Jessie says from the opposite side of the house before she slips out the back door.

“You guys are seriously so sweet, I can not thank you enough for letting me stay here last night. I promise to be gone though by the time your girls get back. I know having me here would be a shock to them.

“Sydnee, you’re not going anywhere. They are going to be fine, they are sweet and caring, they will love you.”

“It isn’t right or fair to them for having me here messing up your everyday lives.” I fire back while chewing on a piece of bacon.

“Sydnee, I have been a hockey coach all of their lives, what is crazy for everyone else is normal for this family. I care to much about you to just let you go off on your own right now. And you’re over thinking, it is okay, you can let your guard down here. I promise you it is okay.”

“I just miss him,” my bottom lip quivers, “I don’t know what to do or who I am without him now. He saved me from myself, only to be the one to break me in every way possible. But on the other hand, he has every right to be upset with me, what I did was selfish and stupid. I shouldn’t have done what I did. It is my fault. It is always my fault.”

He notices the tears quickly falling down my cheeks and grabs a tissue before sitting at my side, “Sydnee hunny,” Jon wraps his arm around my shoulder and rests his chin on the top of my head, “it is not in any way your fault. You were scared and didn’t know what to do. No one is blaming either of you right now, and it isn’t your fault you had a bad past to cause this type of reaction. Plus being in a new relationship is hard enough, adding in the travel that it takes to be a hockey player makes it that much more difficult. But this isn’t your fault, I know you think that it is but I promise you that it isn’t.”

I sniffle and lean into him, “I messed everything up, I had the best thing in the world taken from me all because I was stupid and emotional. I thought by now I would have heard something from him, but I haven’t heard a single thing since I left.”

“I am going to play devil's advocate here for a second,” Jon sits up and holds me up as my shoulders, “think about what he is feeling right now, you both were in a fit of rage last night. I’m sure he is going through something similar too. Or he is letting himself cool off before he tries to make contact with you. You are both young and the emotions last night were really high for the both of you. You know better than anyone that Brandon is an emotional guy. Should he have reacted the way that he did? Of course not, but sometimes when people get scared they get angry. I’m sure he is trying to find a way to get back in touch with you all while being careful.”

“But that is just it, he shouldn’t have freaked out the way that he did, he knows my past and he knows I can’t handle going through things like this on my own but he didn’t even fight when I left. He just watched me walk out and didn’t try to stop me.”

“Hey, I am on your side, I completely agree with you that he shouldn’t have done what he did, just try to think how he felt in that moment when he found out. I am sure he was just scared he was going to lose you.”

I sit back on the couch and wrap up again, Jon’s words swirling around in my head as I mindlessly finish my plate of food. I hadn’t even realize I spaced out until I hear the back door open and little feet run into the living room. Two blond hair, blue eyed girls come into the livingroom.

“Dad! We are back - who are you?” They both stop in their tracks and look at me.

I take in their features quickly, blond hair, blue eyes, looking like the perfect mix between Jon and his wife.

“Girls, this is Sydnee, Brandon Hagel’s girlfriend. They are going through a bit of a rough patch right now and she didn’t have anywhere else to go so your mom and I are letting her stay here for a couple days until they get everything sorted out.” he motions to come into the living room and sit.

“Girls, I want you to meet Sydnee. Sydnee, these are my twins Julia and Josie.”

I look over at them and offer them a small smile, “Hi.”

“So you are the one I hear my parents talking about every once in a while.” Julia smiles back at me, “it is nice to finally meet you.”

I cock my head in Jon's direction, “you’ve talked about me before?”

“I told you, you are like another daughter to me. You remind me a lot of my girls. Just older of course.” He chuckles and stands up before kissing the twins on the tops of their heads, “I am going to get dinner started if anyone needs me. Stay and talk, get to know each other.”

The girls watch as their father leaves the room and I curl deeper into the couch, wanting to disappear.

“So, not trying to sound rude, but what caused you to end up at our house?” Josie ask once Jon is out of the room.

“Well Brandon, my boyfriend, and I had a really big fight over… personal matters. I was upset and when I threatened to leave he didn’t try to stop me. I have no friends here in the Tampa area, and your father and I had become close since Brandon got traded here back in March of 2022. I had only planned to stay here for the night and be out of the house before you two got back but your father insisted that I stay for a while longer until everything settles.”

Julia’s face softens and she gives a soft and sad smile, “I am so sorry. That sounds horrible. But my dad is right, you can stay here as long as you like. It really isn’t a problem. Right Jo?” She looks over at her sister.

“No not at all, plus if my dad likes you then you must be okay. And by the way, you are so pretty.”

My heart swells in my chest at their kind words, “You girls are so sweet. Your parents have done a good job raising you.”

They both smile brightly before getting up and walking to the kitchen to help their dad.

The day quickly turns to night and before I realize, it is late and I still haven’t heard from Brandon. I replay the conversation with Jon from earlier and my mind relaxes a little.

Jessie walks into the living room wrapped in her night robe, “we are turning in for the night, do you need anything?”

“No ma’am. I am okay, thank you though.”

“Sydnee please call me Jessie,” she smiles, “but if you need anything or you get hungry, by all means help yourself. There’s plenty to eat in this house.”

“Will do Jessie. Thank you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she turns on her heel and walks off down a hall to where I assume is her and Jon’s bedroom.

The hours roll on and I am still wide awake, mindlessly scrolling through my phone when I hear a door close from the opposite side of the house, I look around to see Julia walking into the kitchen.

“Sydnee? What are you doing up?”

“Haven’t been able to fall asleep, it’s late though. Why are you awake? I wasn’t keeping you up was I?”

“Oh gosh you worry to much. No, you didn’t wake me up, didn’t even hear you until I walked out of my room and seen you sitting on the couch. I just needed a drink.”

I stand and go to the kitchen with her, reaching for two glasses, “do you mind filling me a glass since you are going to the fridge already?”

“Not at all,” she has a sweet smile on her face before filling both glasses and handing me one. “Now what is the real reason you’re not asleep?” she asks as she leans against the counter.

“My mind is a very loud place right now and I can’t help but worry about Brandon. I haven't heard from him in over 24 hours, we haven’t spent this much time apart since we first started dating and when he was on his road trips. And even then we would still check in on each other.”

“I’m sure that he is okay, I mean you both went through a lot together and this is just another bump in the road. But at the end of the day if he really loves you like he says he does, then he will find a way to make all of this right.”

“Are you sure you are only 16?” I chuckle and look over at her.

“I may or may not have watched too many Hallmark movies growing up with my mom,” She laughs and finishes her water, “I am going to go back to sleep, you should try getting some rest too.”

“Yeah,” I say softly, “goodnight Julia.”

“Goodnight Sydnee.”

Julia walks back to her bedroom and I curl back up in my spot on the couch, letting my mind wander to Brandon as I fall into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning I am woken again to the smell of food cooking in the kitchen, this time it is filled with laughter as Julia, Josie, Jessie and Jon make their way around each other to finish breakfast.

I walk in quietly and fill my water glass from last night, making sure to stay out of the way of the crew that is already filling the kitchen.

“Sydnee you’re awake! Just in time too, breakfast is almost ready.” Jon smiles as we piles pancakes onto a plate and sets them on the counter.

“Oh that is okay, I am not hungry.” I say quietly.

“Sydnee I know you have to be, I haven’t seen you eat anything since breakfast yesterday before I left for the grocery store. We always have more than enough to eat.” Jessie says from the coffee pot, “I even made sure to get your favorite coffee ground, Jon made sure I knew which one that you liked the most.”

“Jon… Jessie, you didn’t have to do all that for me. It is a gift enough that you are letting me stay here.”

“But we wanted too,” she offers a sweet smile and hands me a cup of coffee, “Now go sit at the table with the girls and we will have breakfast ready in a couple more minutes.”

I turn and go sit at the table where Julia and Josie finish getting the plates and silverware set up, “Do you guys have breakfast like this every morning?”

“If dad is home, yes. He loves to cook and be able to eat as a family. When he is on the road we kinda just eat whenever we aren’t bust but when he is home we eat at least one meal together. Keep us close and connected.” Josie says with a beaming smile on her face.

“I wish I had a family this close growing up, the only one I had for the longest time was my sister Jessica, but now she won’t even talk to me.”

“Well why doesn’t she talk to you?” Julia asks as she takes a sip of her orange juice.

“Because I fell in love with Brandon quicker than she thought I should have, and when I said I was moving down here with him when he got traded I lost all connection with her.”

“Well…” Josie trails off and looks at her sister before looking back at me, “we could be your sisters and family now! I know we haven’t really known each other real long, but if my parents like you enough to let you stay here and be welcomed in the way my dad then you must be a pretty decent person.”

I smile. A real smile. For the first time in days. My heart swells in my chest before I get up and hug them both. I relax when I feel them pull me into a deep and much needed hug, “I’m glad you girls accepted me. I know having a stranger in your home.”

Jon and Jessie walk in with food in their hands and even bigger smiles on their faces, “Well if this isn’t a sight to see. I was hoping you girls would, I know I don’t mind at all.” Jon smiles brightly as he sets the plates down on the table.

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

Jon

The rest of breakfast goes off without a hitch, the girls welcomed Sydnee with open arms, literally, and for the first time since Sydnee has been here I seen her smile. Her real smile and not the fake one she throws out there trying to trick her.

After we all get breakfast cleaned up, I head to the bedroom, shower and get dressed to go to the rink for the day. As I slip my shoes on I walk to all four of the girls in the living room, “I am heading to the rink for morning skate tonight before the game, if you need anything while I am out let me know and I will grab it on my way home.”

“Be careful hun, I will see you soon.” Jessie offers me the same loving and sweet smile that I fell in love with all those years ago.

I slip on my shoes and out the door before I can hear what the four are gossiping about. It warms my heart to know my family took to Sydnee the same way I did when I first met her.

Normally I am looking forward to going to the rink, seeing all the guys and always coming up with new strategies to win. The rink has become my second home, and those players have become like my second family. But today there is going to be unease as I see Brandon for the first time since the fight that the couple has had. I know better than to get involved in a players personal business but this one I don’t know if I can just let it slide. But I will keep my mouth shut as long as I can.

As I pull up to the players lot, I can see some of the guys already here. Brandon usually beats me here and his car is nowhere in sight. This is going to be the start of a long day already.

I head inside, throw on my skates and head out to the ice as the players slowly start trickling down there, I spot Brayden as he is one of the first on the ice. “Brayden, good morning.”

“Morning Coach, how was the day off yesterday.”

“It was great, much needed after the long road trip, just spent the day at home with the wife and the girls. How was yours?”

“Pretty good, mostly relaxed. Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“It’s about Hags, he is off. Last night he wanted me to meet him at the bar and he never drinks unless Sydnee is around, and even then he doesn’t drink the night before a game. Something isn’t right.”

I shrug and pretend like I am unaware of what is really going on, I don’t want their relationship out there for the world to know if they haven’t told anyone else yet.

“Hmm, I don’t know Pointers, I will talk to him today and see if I can get anything out of him. Thanks for letting me know though.”

Brayden gives me a nod before he skates off, about 15 minutes later, practice is about to start and just as I am about to close the bench door I see Brandon walking up the tunnel with bags under his eyes and sleep showing on his face.

“Nice of you to join us Hagel.”

“Whatever.” he grumbles and goes off to do his stretches.

“Hot laps, 10 of them lets go!” I give Brandon a quick glance and skate to the middle, “better shape up Hagel or it’ll be a long day for you. You know I don’t like players being late.”

“I’m not late Coop. Practice hasn’t started yet. Relax.”

“You know if it’s ‘on time’ then it’s late. Step it up.”

I hear him mumble under his breath but do not question him, he is already annoyed.

As practice goes on, I keep Brayden’s words in my head and everything that he says couldn’t be more true. Brandon is not himself at all, usually I have to get him to relax while the other guys are catching their breath and today it looks like he has cement in his skates.

I take one last look at the guys before I blow the whistle, “alright, good work today boys, everyone hit the showers, Hagel meet me in my office when you are done.”

“Oh someone is in trouble!” Anthony teases him only to be met with a scowl from Brandon.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business.”

“Well someone is a dang grouch.”

“C, leave it alone okay?” I pat Anthony on the shoulder and whisper, “he and Sydnee are going through a rough patch right now and neither of them are taking it well.”

Anthony’s face softens and looks back at Brandon as he makes his way down the hall, “Oh shoot I’m sorry Coop. I didn’t know.”

“You’re alright son, but you didn’t hear that from me. Got it?”

He gives a curt nod before going down the tunnel himself.

As the boys all file into the locker room, I am quick to take my skates off and go into my office, firing up my computer and waiting for Brandon to come in.

About 15 minutes later there is a soft knock on my door and my head pops up from being the computer screen, “come in.”

Brandon opens the door, somehow looking worse than before the practice started, “can we make this quick? I want to get going.”

“Go where exactly? The bar? Brayden told me you drank last night.”

“Well I wish he would keep his damn mouth shut.”

“Brandon… I know what happened between you and Sydnee.”

His spine goes ramrod straight and his face turns white, “how do you know about that? I didn’t think she would go telling anyone what happened.”

“Because she came to me the night it happened Brandon. She was lost and had nowhere else to go. She is alone and scared and you haven’t even checked in on her. She could have ended up in a bad place or side of town and you wouldn’t have had the slightest clue.”

“Well I’m glad she’s okay but it was her fault we had the fight in the first place?”

“Her fault huh? To me both of you are at fault. But it is by far not just her fault. She knocked on my door shaking and scared. The poor thing has hardly slept since the has been there, and you want to say it is only her fault? Brandon I know you better than this. You gotta grow up here.”

“But she started the whole thing by getting depressed and cutting herself while I was gone. Saying I was goin–”

I hold my hand up to stop him, “listen to yourself Brandon. ‘She started the whole thing by getting depressed’. Did those words really just fall out of your mouth? I thought you were better than that. You should know first hand what it is like to deal with depression, and you know her past better than anyone. You know she gets scared when she is left alone for to long from what her parents did to her. She was scared Brandon, now was she right to harm herself? No. But her mind is constantly attacking itself and she didn’t know what to do.”

“She could have called or something! Instead she took matters into her own hands and now look at where we are!”

“Be lucky she isn’t dead Brandon!” I feel my anger getting the best of me and I take a deep breath before continuing, “be lucky she is even still here. She has been sleeping on my couch waiting just to hear if you are okay. She is broken, and so are you. I have seen what you are like with her and what you are like without her. And right now Brandon, you are a mess. I don’t like seeing you this way. You are a much better guy than this and I know you can be. Come on man you gotta at least try to work this out with her. I am worried about both of you.”

“I just… I know you’re right coach, but I don’t know. When I found those cuts on her legs, I panicked. All I could see was my two uncles headstones because,” he posses for a minute before continuing, “well you know what happened. And sometimes I struggle myself. I freaked out, I was scared, I was angry. I know what I did was wrong but I figured she would have at least tried to contact me by now.”

“And I understand where you’re coming from Brandon, I do. But think about the whole situation from her end, growing up she was basically forgotten about with her family right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Alright, and she would try to be in their lives but they pushed her away? That is what was going through her mind when you weren’t answering, now I am no medical profesional, but she suffers from PTSD, she was also scared. She did what her body knew what to do and that was to protect her mind in any way that it could, which was causing physical harm to take away the mental harm that was already done in her head.”

As I speak I see his face changing, finally softening after coming in with an attitude, “Hags, you know I don’t like being hard on you, you’re one of my top guys, but I will also protect her like another daughter of mine. I am not trying to get in the middle of your relationship, but there this is a time I had to.”

“I understand Jon, I guess, I never was thinking about how she was feeling in that moment, all I felt was my own emotions that I wasn’t thinking about her. How is she? Is she okay?”

“She’s okay all things considering, shes been glued to the couch. My wife finally got her to eat a little and when I left Josie and Julia were getting her to talk a little more. But she’s doing okay.”

“I don’t even know what I would say to her if I seen her right now.” he whispers and finally lets his shoulders relax, a sign he is finally ready to listen.

“Well, I’m sorry would be a start. But don’t think about that right now. There is a time and a place for that and on game day isn’t it. I know you want to see her and tell her everyting but the emotions are high, on game days it is even worse. Let’s get through tonights game and you can try to contact her, okay?”

He nods and stands and I match his movement, “thank you Jon, I think I needed this reality check more than I realized.”

“That is what makes the difference between a coach and a leader, my door here and at home are always open if you need advice, okay?”

“I will keep that in mind for the future, thanks again coach. I will see you tonight.”

I give him a slight smile before returning to my work.

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

Sydnee

Before I know it, it is game time and Julia and Josie are sitting on the flor while Jessie is sitting on the couch with the Lightning pre game on, Jessie looks over at me as the camera pans to Brandon and his pre game warm ups.

“Sydnee we don’t have to watch this, we can change the channel.”

“No Jessie, I already said it is okay, I want you guys to go on living as if I am not here. There is no need to cater towards my needs when this is your home.”

“I know you have said that, but it can’t be easy watching the game and seeing him.” She gives me a soft smile.

“Well, no ma’am it isn’t but I still have friends on the team as well, I still want to see the team do well even if Brandon and I aren’t speaking.”

“You are a strong girl you know? I wouldn’t be able to watch if I was in your shoes.”

I chuckle softly and curl up into the blanket, this thing has been like my life line over the last couple days.

The Lightning go on to win 3-1 over the leafs, Brandon recording a fight and an assist. So many parts wanted to cheer for him, especially after completely manhandling the fight, but many parts made my heart ache, not knowing where we stand with each other.

Julia, Josey, and Jessie all turn in for the night after the game is over and post game interviews are shown. Jon walks in about an hour after the girls all go to their rooms.

“Nice win tonight Jon,” I say softly from my spot on the couch, I swear I am going to leave a permanent butt print behind once I figure out where I am going next.

“Thanks kid, full team effort tonight that is for sure. No win against Toronto is ever easy.”

Chuckling softly I push myself deeper into the couch, “everyone went to their rooms for the night, I was going to turn the lights out and go to sleep myself but didn’t want you coming home to a dark house.”

“Oh Sydnee you could have, I know this place like the back of my hand, but I am glad you’re awake still. Someone is here to see you.”

My blood runs cold and I freeze, “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Syd, just hear him out. I promise you it’ll be worth it.”

I huff and stand, “fine, but I am taking the blanket with me.”

“If that is what it takes to get you to talk to him then by all means, he is waiting outside on the porch, I will be just on the other side of the door if you need me okay?”

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this..” I whisper and walk quietly towards the door.

As I open the door, Brandon is standing there in a all black suit and tie, dressed to the nines. An odd sight for it being as late as it is and standing on his coaches front porch. In his hand is a dozen black roses. My favorite. The fact that he found them makes my heart beat harder in my chest.

I pull my blanket tighter around me before stepping onto the porch and facing him for the first time since our fight. It is taking everything in my power to hold myself back from running into his arms and breaking down.

“Baby…” his voice cracks when he finally meets my eyes.

Stay strong Sydnee, you got this.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me Brandon. Not until you explain everything.”

“I don’t even know where to start, but first I want to say that I love you, more than anything else in the world and what I did was incredibly stupid and wrong. I should have listened to you and try to understand where you were coming from.”

“You’re damn right Brandon, your words. They cut deeper than any knife that could have been used, I thought I was going to die right then and there when you didn’t even fight to keep me from leaving. You always fight, and it wasn’t there.”

“And if I could take all of those mean and hurtful things back I would, in a heartbeat I would do it. You know the last thing that I want in life is to hurt you.”

“Really? Because right now, that’s all I feel from you is hurt, hurt in ways I have never felt before. So let me ask you, why did you do it? Say all those words if you didn’t mean them?”

“Because, when I felt your leg, and your cuts. I panicked.” He looks away and bites his lips, storm clouds building in his brown eyes, “I freaked out because I know if I didn’t come home when I did I could have lost you forever, I know how bad your depression can be, and I know how serious it is, you know I lost people to it in the past. I was scared baby.”

“Well you had a real funny way of showing it.” I hug the blanket closer to my body, suddenly feeling very small and fragile.

“Sydnee if there is any way in the world I can make this up to you, tell me and I will find a way to make it happen. But baby I promise you I can’t go on knowing you’re not home with me.”

“Why didn’t you check in. I get it you were mad, fine whatever, but if you care so much like you say you do, why didn’t you care enough to at least text me to see if I was okay? I could have been robbed and left on the street if I didn’t have the right mind to come here.”

“Because I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t in my right mind. I went on a two day bender and have hardly slept. Coming home to an empty house made me realize how much I screwed up and I thought you hated me after what I said.”

“Brandon..” I whisper, “no force on this earth could ever get me to hate you. I might be super mad at you yes, but I could never hate you. Come on now, you’re smarter than that.”

“I know, that is why I said I wasn’t in my right mind. Baby please, I’m begging for forgiveness. I am so incredibly sorry for everything I said to hurt you.” Tears spill from his eyes and he doesn’t stop them, this is how I know he means what he says.

My mind tells me to stay strong, let him feel the pain that I felt since the fight happened, but my body betrays me and my feet close the gap between us and I wrap my arms tightly around his middle, “Don’t you ever make me feel like I am worth less than what I am. Got it?” I burry my face into his chest and cry softly.

“I won’t baby, I’m here.” I feel him leave a gentle kiss to the top of my head, “I’m here and I am not going anywhere. I promise. But please promise me one thing.”

I look up at him and wait for him to continue.

“Whenever you’re feeling like that, talk to me okay? You know I will do anything in my power to help you. I love you and I don’t want you feeling alone like that ever again.”

“I promise Brandon.”

I stand on my toes and kiss his cheek gently, “now how on earth did you find black roses at this time of night? And the black suit is stunning on you.”

He offers a small chuckle, “let me grab your bag and I will explain in the car on the way home.”

[creative-frequency]

Raphael x Reader: Act I: The Bargain

Summary: Bloody and bruised from the nautiloid ship crash, forging a contract with a devil becomes your best and only option for survival. This is the first flashback oneshot for the main story of the series. The poem is The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe. Word count: 2197 Notes: Dealing with a devil, canon-typical blood and injury.

My writing masterlist

Bottles of Ithbank and mugs of red ale rose up to meet the bright stars embroidered into the velvety midnight sky. Comforting and familiar voices of laughter and cheer bubbled around you. It was a night to remember, reminisce and celebrate. In destroying the Absolute you had faced the impossible and lived on to tell the tale. You had gained allies and most importantly, you had met people, who you proudly called your friends.

Deep in thought, you fiddled with the ring on your left hand’s ring finger. A vexing lark from the gift giver, as the ring would fit no other digit. You had bet your soul on never removing the stupid piece of jewellery, at the same time dooming yourself to the eternity of answering delighted queries about a presumed marriage.

Every time you took a sigh to explain you were, in fact, not married, you heard the devil over your shoulder laugh somewhere deep in the Hells. Out of sheer spite, you wished you could hate him. But he had given you this life and this victory, so you endured.

Wyll, the freshly appointed Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate, sat next to you by the large table and noticed you twiddling with the ring.

“So. Do you know what became of Raphael?” he asked cautiously and nodded towards your hands.

You shrugged, not exactly keen on discussing the devil even though the wine had already spun your mind into a pleasant, relaxing buzz. You had been prepared to answer this particular question during the course of the evening and it was no shock Wyll was the one to voice it. You had met with Wyll from time to time after your travels together, but had always avoided the subject. Luckily the Grand Duke was a busy man. 

“I guess your pact still stands then. I’m sorry,” Wyll said and took a swig from his goblet.

“Don’t be,” you corrected him and opened your mouth to justify why, but Wyll just looked at you with compassion.

He was the only one of your companions who truly knew what you had been through since he had made the same choice – albeit your reasons were initially more selfish than his. The only difference was that he had found a way to outwit his devil patron to get out of his pact. The Duke Ravengard still had horns, but no longer even a tiny bit of the infernal power of a warlock was coursing through his veins.

Wyll changed the subject: “It feels like the whole thing happened in another life.” 

“It really does,” you sighed and raised the bottle to your lips again.

“I’m glad you decided to stay in Baldur’s Gate, though.”

“Don’t say anything about being a hero, please,” you exclaimed and Wyll grinned. You couldn’t help but grin right back at him.

“I wasn’t going to,” he assured you.

“I’m done playing the hero for now. I need time to put my feet up” – you lifted your boots and planted them on the table – “and enjoy just being alive.”

Wyll shot you a humorous look, but decided against noting how the heroics usually had happened when you had tried to avoid those situations the most.

Six months earlier

Hidden behind wreckage, you dared to inhale a shallow breath and barely held back a cough. Unknown parts of the nautiloid ship and horrifying, giant flesh pods laid scattered and broken around you. Their colourful liquids were mixed on the ground into sickening pools. There was a reek of burning something you didn’t want to think about and it made breathing even harder.

A couple of your ribs were likely broken from being thrown around by the impact from  exploding tubes. It had not been one of your finest moments or the best aimed fire bolt, but at least you had lost the pursuers, for now.

You prayed to every known god and goddess under your breath. You had survived the nautiloid crash and found yourself alone again amidst the debris – only to be attacked by a group of pathetic, random looters. It was five against one and you didn’t even have a weapon on you. It would’ve been a tough fight on a good day, but you were seriously injured, bleeding and delirious from the environmental hazards affecting your senses. So you had attempted to cause as much chaos as you could to hide.

If you had thought getting taken by mind flayers was bad enough, it had been pure downhill since then. The inevitability of this one becoming your last adventure started to settle in.

You sat on the broken floor, leaning into a crevice in the debris and listened to any voices. The looter group was not far, but unfortunately they were not foolish enough to make noise as they were tracking you down. You had maybe minutes to live and there was literally nothing you could have done about it.

So you prayed. Incoherent words tumbled from your mouth under your broken breaths.

You would give anything for the power to smite those pathetic thiefs.

Anything for the power and means to save yourself from the predicament.

You closed your eyes and focused on listening to the approaching final moments of your existence.

Anything to live and die on another day.

A soft step. Then another. Your pulse surged. Someone was coming, but nothing about him was what you had expected.

A man you would have eagerly described as mysterious and handsome walked towards you. His steps were leisurely, his pace unhurried and his expression tinged with curiosity.

Maybe some poison gas had finally addled your mind and you were seeing things.

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—” he recited carefully with graceful cadence, pacing closer.

A poem? So you were either dead or poisoned. Your head lolled to the side, trying to see his face clearly in the midst of the smoke and floating embers.

“While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.” His voice was smooth, almost drawling. It sent a warm shiver down your back. His hands motioned in rhythm with the words.

The stranger paused right in front of you and continued: “’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, ‘tapping at my chamber door—”

He leaned down to have a closer look at you and his expression turned unreadable. His eyes were chestnut brown, cunning and framed by dark lashes. The high cheekbones were tinged with healthy red.

“Only this and nothing more,” he ended the verse with a contemplative note.

You blinked in confusion, openly staring and wondering could he have been one of the looters, because he certainly didn’t look like one. His clothes were fancy: a blue doublet, ornamented with gold trimmings and a frilly collar. His brown hair was combed back and waves of light curls gathered behind his ears.

Maybe you had gone mad or lost consciousness already.

“Are you really here?” you asked in a shaky voice.

“Is that not why you were rapping at my door?” he returned the question.

Delirious from the smoke and blood loss, you couldn’t understand what he meant.

“Please, you have to help me…” you pleaded, still unsure if the man really even existed.

“Wouldn’t you rather help yourself?” he remarked, tapping his chin in calculating thought. His gaze was evaluating you.

“What? I don’t…” you spluttered with desperation.

“Come.”

He took your hand and pulled you up from the floor. His touch was almost burning, or maybe your hands were just that cold from the loss of blood. A consuming inferno of bright flames swallowed you both and instantly you reappeared in an entirely different place.

The warm air and the general, faint smell of fire and sulphur ravaged your senses. Avernus.

“The House of Hope. Where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed,” the stranger presented dramatically with a flourish motion of his arms – an invitation for you to look around at all the lavish glamour. Paintings of devils hung on the walls and the large fireplace was lit with the most mesmerising, hungry fire you had ever seen. A massive table right next to you was loaded with mouth-watering delicacies and you were overwhelmingly reminded how hungry and weak you were.

Your legs were shaking and every muscle in your body ached, resisting the notion of staying up on your feet. Every breath now made your lungs sizzle, the air burning on its way inside.

“So you’re a devil?” you asked feebly.

The stranger crooked a smile at your quick wit and answered: “Raphael. Very much at your service.”

A devil – out of all the names of the gods you had taken in vain, this was the one to save you. The irony stung deep.

“Forgive me that I don’t drop a curtsy. I’m feeling so…” you fumbled to find the proper word and focused your energy on staying on your feet. You glanced down and realised that you had already smudged the floor with blood and dirt.

Raphael noticed the stains too and snapped his fingers.

Immediately, you felt better and stopped gripping the table edge, knuckles white. Air poured effortlessly into your lungs without any pain and although shaky, you felt that you could stand properly. Your posture eased.

“Oh, thank you,” you murmured in surprise, but at the same time your pulse started quickening. As little as you knew of devils, you knew for a fact that they didn’t give anything for free.

“You’re welcome.” Raphael bowed lightly and pulled a chair for you.

“Please, sit, partake. You and I have much to discuss,” he mused and when you were comfortably seated, he circled around to the other side of the table.

Now healed, you were positively ravenous. You hesitated only a second before starting to fill your plate with pork sausages and honey-sauteed vegetables. Raphael’s crooked smile deepened, but he only watched, evaluating.

“How did you find me?” you asked, when the silence began feeling too oppressive.

Raphael tilted his head to the side, gauging your refreshingly lame reaction to the revelation of his nature. He replied: “That delicious life or death predicament you were in did the knocking, but you, my dear, were the one to push the door open.”

You swallowed a mouthful of food. “I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything.”

Raphael hid his smile, which felt even worse than seeing it widen. He leaned over the table on his elbows, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

“Oh, but you did. You wanted to survive. You craved the power to burn those insignificant worms,” he explained with an intensive look in his eyes. Then he leaned back in his seat and continued: “Unless, you’re saying there has been a mistake? I can send you back with an apology.”

“No!” you interjected.

The devil’s eyes glinted. With a nonchalant wave of his hand, a piece of parchment manifested into the air. Red letters in the language of the Hells were seared on the surface. A quill hovered next to it.

Your pulse quickened again as comprehension snaked its tendrils around you: You had prayed to give anything to save yourself. Anything, including your very soul as if it were a mere trinket to be traded off. But, what else was it in this transaction between life and death? You would lose both your life and soul, if you didn’t take the deal. A soul didn’t do much good for you if you were dead already.

“Tell me, what is your name, mortal?” Raphael asked.

“Tav.”

“Well then, Tav. Let’s bargain,” said the devil in the most complacent tone you had ever heard. “I can grant you the ability to manifest my power. The power to tear through your enemies, to guile the unworthy and cull the weak – the power to survive.”

You set the utensils down and drew in a shaky breath. “You want my soul?”

Raphael cocked a brow, entertained, and leaned over the table, closer to you. He said: “Lest you have something else to offer for your salvation, but I promise you this: I take good care of my clients.”

You stared right into the chestnut brown eyes of the human facade of the devil, who was after your very soul.

And nodded slowly.

“I accept,” you said simply, forcing your tone even. “We can go over the details after I’ve killed the fuckers.”

The devil barked a laugh.

“Excellent.”

You signed off the contract for your soul. It would take a long time until the gravity of what you had just done would settle in. In the meanwhile, you would enjoy the patronage of Raphael and the benefits of the warlock pact.

In a swirl of flames, you were returned to the wreck of the nautiloid ship, right at the feet of the looting mob.

“She’s here!”

“Indeed I am,” you snarled as infernal energy crackled and surged on your palm.

There would be only cinders left when you were through with them.

[bluebird722]

Attack on Titan: Beyond the Tree on That Hill

Summary: All it takes is love to rebuild and grow in the aftermath of devastation.

Rating: T

Main Pairings: Jeankasa, AruAni

Author’s note: I know the finale aired a few months ago, but this idea has been stewing in the back of my head since then. However, I experienced a personal loss before the new year, so I figured that now was the best time to share this with readers who either loved or hated the finale, but may have wanted more on what happened to the characters. 

Also, I don’t primarily ship the main pairing of this series of drabbles, but reading fanfiction and studying fanart has made it grow on me. I’ve even linked certain paragraphs to inspiring fanart. Either way, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed thinking of it. 

Special acknowledgement to:  @azulmarina3, @poroverso, @itslieutenanthawkeye, @smallblip, and @k-lionheart-art and @marshmallow-rainbow139!

***Attack on Titan: Beyond the Tree on That Hill***

It was bittersweet, how everyone had come to the final burial site. No matter how they felt about Eren before the rumbling, while they were still new to the cadets, the atmosphere felt peaceful the way that he would have wanted it. The day that the ambassadors had returned, they woke up and made the pilgrimage to the giant tree where he liked to rest as a child. 

Each one had brought flowers to lay down, and they stood in silence for about two hours. So much had changed since the Rumbling, for better and worse. International relations, so far, seemed to be growing, but the Yeagerists were still trying to gain more power and influence within the island. The economy was regrowing stronger than before, but so many people were still struggling to make ends meet. 

When the group agreed to return to their hotel, Mikasa joined them but spent the afternoon on the balcony to enjoy the sunshine while the others napped. She didn’t want to think at that time about the past or the future; she really wanted to enjoy the present and how many lives were still rebuilding. Below her, many children were still laughing and talking as they ran errands for their parents, and couples, old and young, walked together, holding hands. It was a sight she cherished and envied. 

Then she sensed a physical presence behind her, who walked onto the balcony. Though his clothes under his suit were unorderly, Jean looked more refreshed than when he stepped off the steamboat. He offered her a glass bottle of water and asked if he could sit beside her. She more or less allowed him to. 

The calm moment between them ended in two hours, after he put his hand on her bare wrist under her sleeve. She pretended not to feel surprise and confusion at this touch but looked down anyway. Jean lifted the corner of his mouth. “You know that you don’t have to share your feelings,” he said, “but you don’t have to hide them anymore.”

“I know,” she said so quietly that he barely heard her. When the sun began to set and the wind picked up, he took off his jacket, which he put around her shoulders so she didn’t have to retreat back inside. The interior was so warm that she almost began to sweat. Then he brought her downstairs for dinner and helped her order food for the others when they woke. 

***

Although Mikasa considered it “courtship”, it certainly was unlike how she imagined a test for lifelong companionship. In that time, he formally introduced her to his mother, who embraced her despite her soft features hiding nearly a lifetime of stoicism and trauma. She listened to every story–funny and embarrassing–that his mother remembered from his youth. He never pushed her to laugh, but he did like to say things to make her smile. They compared their own methods of chores, such as laundry, and elected to follow whichever seemed the best, even if it was more time consuming. Over time, he rediscovered his interest in sketching and spent free time charcoaling the wilderness or the neighborhood. She liked to watch over his shoulder and happily posed for him one sunny afternoon.

They had stayed outside longer so he could capture in charcoal as much of the sunset as he could. Mikasa shared with him the embroidery from her childhood that she thought about picking back up, whether or not she had children. He knew that talking about her youth before her parents’ murder was still painful for her, and she shared the full story of how Eren saved her. 

His thumbs wiping her cheeks were so tender that she slowly stopped weeping. She hated the sad look in his eyes. “Remember,” he said, “you should miss him. Don’t ever feel like you have to pretend that you do not.” He took a deep breath. “I know that I’m not him,” he added, “but I would give you anything in the world so you know that you are loved and deserve–”

“Loved?” she repeated back.

Jean went still. “Yes,” he said after a long pause. “I…I love you. I’ve felt that since we were in training…”

Slowly, Mikasa leaned closer and kissed him. Jean’s chest had an exploding sensation. He could not believe that he was actually kissing her, nor that it was much superior to how he fantasized. She delicately put her hand on his shoulder, and he cupped her cheek in one hand so they wouldn’t break apart as the sun disappeared for the time being.  

Six months into their romantic relationship, they rented an apartment together but did not progress to anything more than kisses and strong hugs. Regardless of fatigue or cold, Jean was always glad to heat up tea for her late at night or sit outside on the balcony with her when she missed Eren too much. It was strange, for him, to see her allow herself to become more vulnerable, like the warrior that she was slowly showing the “human” side of her. He did not speak unless prompted; he memorized every dream that she recollected to him and every memory of Eren that she almost forgot. Somehow, Jean knew that this was part of her healing and over time trusted her with his own memories, what he missed from his boyhood and even incidents in the cadets that he did not want to remember but could not forget. 

It wasn’t him, she knew, but they became closer than she had been with the boy who liked to pick fights with the one who saved her life, and the man who sided with her as she took down her idea of a life partner.

When they eventually married, only Jean wore his military uniform; Mikasa decided, after all, that she did want to wear a white gown. White, after all, was the color of purity and renewal, people said. She wanted to be a symbol of positive change and remind everyone that good was growing like a flower. Historia and Pieck styled her hair to resemble the former’s and clipped her bangs to her crown. Annie handmade her bouquet with wildflowers, and Historia’s daughter carried the back of her gown on her way to the small chapel.

Yes, I wish it would have been Eren, she thought to herself. I would have wanted nothing more than to meet him inside and pledge the rest of my life to him. She looked down at the flowers she clutched and felt pressure grow in her ears. But it’s not him. 

Then the doors opened, and she reluctantly looked up. No, the man waiting for her inside did not have dark hair or wide eyes, nor was he the one who saved her from slavery and gave her the scarf that she secretly wore around her waist under the gown. She took a deep breath and made her way forward. 

Suddenly, she felt an invisible presence at her left, like Eren had appeared out of nowhere and was guiding her to the woman-obsessed soldier ahead. Then Mikasa smiled and let her eyes water. She clutched her bouquet and timidly smiled at Jean, who looked so different from the brash boy she met at the cadets. When she reached his side, she saw how hard he had been weeping.

They held hands as the minister pronounced their lives together, to love and support each other in the best and worst of times, regardless of life’s challenges. Jean kissed the back of her hand and wiped a tear from her cheek when they were done, and the guests followed them outside to present themselves as newlyweds to their fellow Eldians. Mikasa tried not to think of Eren but instead that someone else loved her enough to want to spend the rest of his life with her. 

After a private lunch with lots of soft music at Nicolo’s restaurant, Jean carried her to a wagon and did not mind that she held his hand with her head on his shoulder without saying anything. Even though she smiled every time he kissed her temple, Mikasa struggled to embrace how her entire life was changing. 

Then the wagon stopped, and Jean hopped out first. As Mikasa started to step out, he picked her up in his arms and carried her around. In front of the wagon was a log cabin with a firepit up front, a dusty pathway, and a river just down the hill. Jean smiled at the dumbfounded look on his bride’s face. “You never specifically said how you wanted your ideal house to look,” he explained, “but I know that you prefer nature and peace, so…this is the ideal retreat.”

He carried her inside and did not set her on her feet. Everything reminded her of her childhood homes, from the kitchen to the water pump, and even the two bedrooms that resembled her home with her parents and then with Eren and his parents. She pushed her fingers to her mouth and shook her head. “Thank you, Jean. I…I will enjoy it here.”

They cooked, ate dinner, and washed the dishes together smiling, but when it was time to go to bed, Mikasa paused at the doorway into their bedroom. It occurred to her then why they had a second bedroom in the house, which Armin and their surviving comrades had built in secret, with Jean’s supervision. 

Jean put his hands on her waist. “What is the matter?” he asked. 

Mikasa bit her tongue, unsure. “I…” She put her hands over his. “I don’t want to do that…tonight.” She held her breath. “Someday, but…not now.”

Jean himself was tired but had secretly hoped to make the marriage, according to ancient tradition, “official” that night. He was slightly disappointed, but he knew that trying to convince her would offend even a strong woman like Mikasa. Instead, he kissed the back of her head and walked around her into the room. “We will not then,” he said. “I promise that I will wait until you are comfortable.”

Smiling, Mikasa kissed him good night and let him wrap her in the blanket and his arms. 

***

The two months succeeding the wedding were some of the happiest and most relaxed of their lives. Their comrades frequently visited and brought up good and bad memories of their training days, as stupid and clueless young soldiers, until dark. If Jean was enjoying a glass of scotch with a book he was reading, Mikasa liked to sit beside him, rest her head on his shoulder, and read along. On days where she observed over his shoulder his artistic talent, he lay on his back so her face hovered over his; he liked to look into her eyes and feel her fondle his facial hair. When his mother came to see their new apartment, she took Mikasa’s hands and said, with tears in her eyes, “Thank you so much for making my child happy. I have never seen him this…content before, even when he was a little boy.”

Still, unlike his wife, Jean began having traumatizing recollections and crying in his sleep. It started one night a week until it grew to three, sometimes four. Mikasa woke to his muffled cries and had to shake him out of his slumber, or Jean battled alone while his wife slept and soaked through his sleepwear. Embraces and walks outside did not always help, but sometimes she had to make him remember and let it go. Jean told her everything except one dream where Eren haunted him for “stealing” her from a lifetime of longing and yearning. Otherwise, it was recollections of discovering Marco’s body, of watching Armin being abused while posing as Historia, and even of Hange’s death in flames. Sometimes weeping in the arms of his wife consoled the hotheaded young soldier within him, particularly because the young woman whom he admired was the one to comfort him.

Within their first two months of marriage, their union was soft and harsh. She smiled when he embraced her in bed but often wept for unknown reasons in the bathroom. Each time, her husband closed his eyes and tried to imagine how his and Eren’s lives would have been different if Jean had been less antagonistic. Jean wouldn’t regret marrying her, but did he unknowingly rush her into marriage before she fully recovered? Even before he asked her to marry him, he vowed that he would love and care for her more than he ever did for anyone else in his life. 

Jean was silent at dinner that night and went to bed early. She joined him later and knew that he was feigning sleep. He’s a good man, she remembered telling herself when she finally agreed to marry him. It is obvious that he thinks that he is failing as a husband, but he’s not. 

“Jean,” she said softly. 

Immediately, he held himself up on his elbow. “Yes?”

Mikasa hesitated, and then took a deep breath. “I…I’m ready.”

For a while, Jean was still. Then he brushed part of Mikasa’s hair from her face and leaned down to kiss her. She kissed him back but then put her hands on his shoulders. “Wait… Could you please sit up?”

Jean pushed himself back and bent his knees, unsure if she would change her mind. Her silhouette hesitated, but then she crawled over and, after shuffling, he sat on the bed cross-legged, and she sat on his lap, her legs around his waist. After gentle kissing and a deep breath, she pulled him back with her onto the bed. His facial hair scratched her chin, and he whispered sweet things to her between kisses.

***

At last, Jean was done chopping wood. He was in the best shape of his life, but his arms and upper back were burning from overwork, and he was thirsty for cold water. Even though winter was months away, he wanted to have as much wood ready for when the cold did arrive and the family retreated to the cabin. Jean wiped his forehead and entered the log cabin. 

Mikasa was at the table, peeling potatoes and slicing vegetables much slower than normal. She seemed lost in thought, so Jean decided not to disturb her. As he took off his shoes and rolled his head, she did look up and smile at him. After he splashed cold water from the pump onto his face and swallowed a mouthful of water, he kissed her cheek and sat beside her. “We are good with wood for now,” he said. “And plenty for when it is too cold to go outside.”

Mikasa nodded along and continued prepping the night’s meal. Jean grabbed a knife and chopped the potatoes that she had peeled to mix with the brown skins. Cutting food relaxed him and took his mind off the bad dreams that were not as reoccurring anymore but still made him reluctant to fall asleep. Now, more than ever, he truly worried about them going away.

Just then, Mikasa stopped and stared at the table. Jean assumed that she was thinking about Eren again, but then she made a face of discomfort. He set down the knife and gently put his hand on her arm. “Mikasa? Are you…all right?”

Mikasa left her mouth open for a moment. “Y–Yes,” she hesitated. “It’s nothing.”

Jean didn’t believe her, but he continued to cut potatoes anyway. Then, about ten minutes later, she made the same face and hissed. Just as Jean lifted his head, Mikasa smacked her hand onto the table and grit her teeth. Her husband set down the knife and stood up. “Mikasa? What is giving you pain?”

Mikasa hissed through her teeth and then slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were wide with anticipation and dread. “Jean…I may be in labor.”

At that moment, Jean knelt down and moved his wife’s legs in his direction, and put his hands under her arms. They counted to three together, and she shakily stood up on swollen feet and ankles. Her lap and chair were wet with fluids that she somehow did not feel. Jean swung her arm over his shoulders and helped her into their bedroom, where she heaved on her slow way into the bed. “Bring the doctor,” she gulped. “The–The baby is moving fast…”

“No,” said Jean. “I am afraid to leave you all by yourself.”

Mikasa gripped the edge of the mattress. “Jean…you don’t know anything about babies or how they’re born…”

“No,” he agreed, “but what if I leave and you fall off the bed? You could hurt yourself and the baby…”

Then another contraction hit, and she hung her head. Jean helped her to her feet again and helped her walk around the room throughout her labor. After about two hours, her breathing became more hitched, and she could no longer hold up herself. 

Jean lowered her back onto the bed and pushed their pillows under her back. Then he swung her feet onto the bed and pushed up her skirt. “Get the doctor,” his wife whined. 

“No, I’m not leaving you alone,” said Jean. “What if the doctor is not there? I couldn’t leave you alone in all that time–”

“Jean…” She threw back her head and clenched her eyes closed. It hurt Jean to see this strong woman fall vulnerable to the pains of childbirth, but he knew that she would recover. She wasn’t going to let this pain bother her for the rest of her life. He took a deep breath and ignored the sweat all over his back. 

Although Mikasa complained that he should have left for professional services, Jean refused and coached her throughout the afternoon. She gripped her thighs so tightly that she left bruises everywhere, and her eyes stung from the sweat on her forehead. Then she gave one final push and opened her eyes when Jean began laughing and crying at the same time. In his hands he clutched a naked newborn, coated in fluids and wailing. Mikasa burst into tears because for some reason, she felt happy–tremendously happy, like she never thought she could feel. Jean skipped out of the room on shaky legs and came back clutching a knife to cut the umbilical cord and a blanket with which he swaddled his firstborn. 

“It’s a boy,” he sobbed with a wide smile. He curled up to Mikasa and kissed her cheek, and then studied his son’s messy face. “Thank you so much.”

“No,” said Mikasa. “Thank you…for reminding me that hearts can heal, and life goes on…and can be better than you believed.”

Jean stared at her in silence, and then smiled as they leaned forward for another kiss. 

***

Jean sipped from his glass of scotch and looked out of the corner of his eye to the corner of the balcony. Mikasa sat in the corner against the wall post and beamed at the chunky baby who was one week away from his first birthday. They had just laid down flowers at Eren’s grave and showed their son to where they planned to make yearly visits. The baby’s nostrils flared every time he breathed, and he alternated between opening and closing his mouth in his sleep. 

Eren, Jean thought to himself what he would have liked to directly tell his son, whose hair was black like his mother’s, it had been busy months preparing for your arrival. Your mother and I knew that you would change our lives, but we didn’t know how much. Now…I cannot imagine how my life could have been better. It’s like you are my reason for living. All of this that I went through up to now…was to have you born. 

Jean smiled. And I had no idea how much I could love until now.

Jean studied the way she observed baby Eren’s ear and the way Eren outstretched his arms over his head. Did I ever imagine that I would name my son after someone to whom I was quite antagonistic? Jean thought to himself. Absolutely not.

Then he observed deeper how happy the once solemn and bitter woman was. Of course, she would mourn for her best friend every day, but she was also reclaiming her life before her parents were murdered. She was starting to let go of her traumas to give love to the little boy she helped create, and whom she loved. Jean felt a little satisfied that he had a role to play in her joy, and that over time he stopped having nightmares. Was he the most content that he had ever felt and that he wouldn’t trade anything now for what he had hoped for? Absolutely. 

***

Eren did not grow up spoiled; his parents taught him chores as soon as he became a better walker, and he had to obey other adults as well, whether it was to stop raising his voice, help his grandmother clear the table, or not say certain words around Connie and Armin. He was not allowed to wear his shoes indoors nor have too much warm water in the bath. 

Nevertheless, Eren always received the best tomato in the market, was allowed to pick out the clothes and shoes that he liked when he wore out what he had, never went cold in his bedroom, and had enough time between chores and bedtime to play and read his favorite stories. By the time he was three, he craved adventure and enjoyed trips to the log cabin, and was more excited about learning to ride a horse than other changes in the house…

***

“Jean.” “Jean.”

Jean groggily woke up because of the poking on his back. Was it little Eren again? Did he sneak out of his room and slide between his parents to wake them up because he could? Maybe it would be best to sleep through it. 

“Jean.” Another poke. “It’s baby time.”

Immediately, Jean woke up and turned around. Mikasa was still lying down, but her eyes were wide with anticipation. Even in the dark, he saw a growing puddle on her side of the bed. Panic seized him, and he pulled himself out of bed. “Oh my gosh, Mikasa,” he panted, “are you in pain, does it hurt, is it different than–”

“No, I am good,” she whispered. “Just grab the doctor for me, and then tell your mother to take Eren outside to play when he wakes up.”

Jean hastily nodded and kissed her forehead. “But what about you?”

“I can pull myself up,” she whispered right before she made a face of pain. “Just…hurry…”

Jean kissed her again and ran out of the room to grab his coat and pull on his shoes. It was happening again, and he wanted it to be better but just as precious as with Eren. This time, his mother slept on the couch to better assist with housekeeping and to keep her grandson distracted from the confusing yet undoubtedly frightening reality of childbirth.

He ran out of the building, mentally asking Eren, if he could hear his fallen comrade, to please be there again for the laboring woman and to keep mother and child safe.

***

The two horses galloped as fast as they could, as if running from a great wildfire. They darted along the pathway, creating clouds of dust on either side, and rushed to the tall building. Paradis was still slow to catch up with modern technology, but it would have been nice to operate an automobile. A life–two lives–could be in danger, and the horses knew of the urgency. 

By the time they reached the apartment building, Connie and Armin had dismounted from their horses and tied them to the post. They ran up the stairs, and Connie pounded on the door. Within two seconds, Jean–his eyes bloodshot and his face tear-streaked–opened the door. “It’s a girl,” he cheered. 

“A girl,” Armin and Connie whispered at the same time. They quickly removed their boots, hung their jackets, and followed him into the cabin. Jean knocked on his bedroom door and waited for the soft “come in”. Inside, Mikasa was propped against bundles of blankets with Eren at her side, his head against her arm and staring at the wrapping of blankets that she cradled. Little Eren lifted his head and smiled when he saw the visitors. Armin immediately knelt down and embraced Mikasa, who looked exhausted but was overjoyed at another healthy birth. 

“I have a little sister,” Eren said in disbelief. “She hasn’t opened her eyes yet, but she has Dada’s hair.”

“She sure does,” Jean said with a smile. He reached forward, and Mikasa handed him their daughter. “Would you like to hold her?” he asked the guests. 

“Absolutely,” said Armin. 

“Of course,” said Connie. 

Jean smiled at the baby’s pouting lips and then approached Connie. “We named her Sasha.”

The excitement on Connie’s face automatically faded into sorrow as soon as he took the newborn into his arms and looked into Sasha’s face. She clearly resembled her parents, but in that moment, he missed his old friend–someone he considered his twin–so fiercely that it wasn’t fair that Sasha didn’t live to get married if she wanted to. She didn’t get the chance to decide if she was going to have children or to see their home at peace. Of course they wouldn’t have named their baby after her if she had survived, but it was wrong that Sasha had to die for her legacy to live on. 

Connie started crying and couldn’t stop himself. Tears fell from his eyes as quickly as Armin’s and Mikasa’s over Sasha’s dead body, and fell onto baby Sasha’s forehead.

“Connie,” said Jean, Armin, and Mikasa at once, but Connie couldn’t hear them. He seemed to lose his hearing as he mourned his friend again. He kept crying onto Sasha’s cheeks until the whining newborn finally opened her eyes, and then Connie’s eyes cleared. Her eyes were the same shape and color as her mother’s. Sasha squinted at the strange man studying her, and then she lifted the corners of her mouth and trapped her tongue between her gums. 

Connie sniffed and blinked back more tears. “Hi, Sasha,” he whispered. “I am very glad to meet you.” 

Armin walked behind Connie and peered at her over Connie’s shoulder. “Happy birthday, little one,” he whispered. He reached forward and tickled her covered stomach. “You’re going to grow up into an amazing woman–just like your namesake.”

“Let’s just hope that she doesn’t eat everything in sight like a wild animal,” Jean, whose eyes started watering again, chuckled. 

“Or steal food from other people,” Mikasa added with a smile. A confused Eren cocked his head with a “huh?”. The men, however, chuckled and marveled over Sasha until she started to whine. While her mother fed her, Jean led his son and their guests into the other room to help prepare a vegetable omelet–based on how his mother cooked for him–to bring to his wife, who would still be sore for a few days. Jean’s mother returned from the market with more fresh meat, and Armin and Connie stayed until twilight.

***

Mikasa held Eren’s hand up to the headstone and let him put down the handful of flowers. She smiled at where her greatest friend rested in peace. “Hello, Eren,” she said softly. “I thought I would visit on your birthday. We’re going to eat how you liked your deer, and then Armin will come visit and talk about how you stood up for him from bullies.”

Little Eren nodded as he waited for his mother to finish and stared at the etching in stone. He wondered what to say. Then he introduced himself and told the headstone the games he liked to play, his favorite stories before bed, his favorite stores to visit, and how good he was at riding horses. Even though he didn’t see himself becoming a soldier, he wanted to grow up to be strong and smart like his parents and Eren. (Jean, on the other hand, stayed behind to clean up Sasha, who had just vomited over his arm, was sweating through her tiny dress, and needed changing. When he was done, he carried her up the hill and, once again, expressed remorse that they did not get along when they first met.)

“Dada,” said Eren as the family held hands on the walk home, “why did you and Mama’s friend fight all the time? You always tell me that it’s not nice to make people sad.”

Jean and Mikasa, who carried Sasha in her free hand, stopped walking then and pondered how to respond. Then Jean said, “Mikasa, why don’t you go ahead and take the baby home? We’ll catch up soon.”

“All right,” said his wife. She readjusted the baby on her hip and entertained her with the scarf that Sasha liked to play with. Then Jean picked up his son and sighed.

“Well, Eren,” he started as Eren put his hands around Jean’s neck, “you might not understand until you’re big like I am now, but sometimes you will wish that you didn’t do or say some things earlier in your life.”

Eren looked confused.

“So when I first met Eren, your mama’s friend, he…he had gone through some bad things when he was young, like things that I hope you never have to go through. And I didn’t know that. I just thought that the things he wanted to do and the way he acted were silly. We had different reasons for why we wanted to join the army.

“Also…” Jean chuckled. “He and your mama were very close, and I thought that she was so beautiful like she is now. I was jealous that they were very close and that she cared about him so much. I wanted her to like me.”

Eren nodded, though Jean knew that he didn’t entirely understand. He kissed Eren’s head and hugged him tightly. The boy was silent on the way home, where Mikasa was washing vegetables in the kitchen after she sat down Sasha for her afternoon nap. “Go help your mother with dinner,” Jean instructed. “I’ll grab more meat from the market.”

Eren spent the afternoon kneading dough into one large piece and then smaller strips. While the bread baked, he peeled the carrots and turnips with a dull knife for his mother to cut them into small pieces. She had him wipe the flour from the counter so she could begin cooking. Eren alternated between observing her to learn and checking on his sleeping sister.

“Mama,” he said on the counter, “Dada said that he really liked you when you first met, but you really liked Eren, and it upset Dada.”

“Yes, that is true,” said Mikasa without looking up. 

Eren tilted his head to his left. “Did you love Eren? Like, did you want to marry him? Is that why we see him every year?”

Mikasa paused and wondered how to reply. Eren worried that he asked mean questions, so he took her wooden spoon and moved around the sizzling produce. When Mikasa kissed his head, he stopped and let her take back the spoon. 

“Yes,” she admitted. “I…I did love him, very much. I loved him in many ways. He was like a brother to me, even though he was my best friend and we lived together. And…I also loved him, like I wanted to be alone with him and…and not talk to anyone else.” Mikasa deeply inhaled so she wouldn’t cry. “I didn’t think then that I could get married, but if–if I did, and I could marry anyone…I would have wanted it to be him.” She rubbed her nose and wiped her clean hand on her skirt.

“I will always love Eren,” Mikasa admitted, “but I also love your father. He showed me that you can still love after a loss, but that’s not why I love him–it’s much different than that, that you may understand when you grow up. And I love you and your sister more than anything else in the world.”

“Do you wish Sasha and I–do you wish your Eren was our dada?” asked Eren.

Suddenly, Mikasa looked sad. “No,” she said after a long pause. “If I was with Eren, you and Sasha would not be you. You would have been different if your father was not Dada.” She stroked Eren’s cheek. “You and Sasha are amazing as you are now, and I–”

“What’s amazing about Sasha?” interrupted Eren. “She’s a baby. She can’t do anything.”

“Don’t interrupt, Eren,” said Mikasa. “She will not be a baby forever. She will grow up and do amazing things, as will you.” They took turns mixing the vegetables and checking on the bread until Sasha began whimpering. Mikasa trusted Eren not to let the carrots and turnips burn and quickly changed and fed the baby, who fell back asleep.

Jean returned with a hunk of wild boar, which he cooked to the point where Eren’s stomach growled. Sasha woke from her nap and eagerly flapped her arms in delight. Before she could cry at the table that she wasn’t tasting from where the delicious smell came, Eren laughed and distracted her by feeding her mashed carrots. Watching Eren spoon feed the baby was always a highlight of Mikasa’s and Jean’s day, followed by his trying to change her alone without getting kicked and entertaining her with wooden toys from their grandmother. 

***

After years, Annie finally “got it” and married Armin. She kept her hair down but wore a “flower crown” that Historia’s daughter suggested, rather than a veil. She wore a white jacket over a long dress with a short train that Sasha held up on Annie and her father’s stroll to Armin. Mikasa thought that he had not looked as happy in such a long time. He never looked away from his bride’s face. Their kiss was slow and then deeper, and soon Annie began crying as hard as Armin.

Armin and Annie did not want a public ceremony, so they insisted on a private dinner party, which Nicolo happily catered at his restaurant. Reiner told only the best stories of Annie in her girlhood that made the entire party laugh, and Pieck and Connie recalled adventures as ambassadors of peace. Jean even let Eren sip from his glass of wine, which he disliked. 

After Armin and Annie cut the cake and fed each other bites, they cut slices for everyone else. Then Annie took apart her bouquet and showered the party with pedals before Armin carried her to the nearby hotel for their first night together.

On his and his family’s way to spend the night in Jean’s childhood home, Jean thought, for the space of a second, that he saw Hitch, still devoted to the idea of war, somewhere, and she made eye contact with him as well. It was probably someone else with the same hair color and similar wardrobe. Nevertheless, he held Eren’s and Sasha’s hands a little tighter.

Some of the tension went away when they reached where he grew up, and his mother already opened the door before the family reached the front door. The couple let their children run over to their grandmother, who loved them and whom they loved. Like every visit, she had cooked up a juicy omelet like her son had devoured as a little boy for everyone to taste, bought for Sasha a pretty dress, and sewed together a unique cardigan for Eren. 

She had kissed all over Mikasa’s cheeks, having adored her like a daughter, and called her son “Jean Boy” to make the grandchildren giggle. At dinner, she listened to Eren and Sasha talk over each other about the wedding until they started yawning. Then their parents put them to bed in Jean’s old room, where she had framed a professional drawing of her son as a chubby toddler, and caught up with the grandmother until late in the night. Jean went to bed reflecting on the suspicious face that he caught eyeing his family but confident that he and his wife would educate the children on self-defense and how to keep themselves safe.

The next morning, the children woke up to the smell of delicious omelets that kept them full until dinnertime. They spent the remainder of the day playing on the floor, reading child-friendly books from around the world that Armin collected for them, and watching people under the balcony.

Mikasa watched in silence until Jean wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She leaned back against his chest, ready to delight in the overwhelming joy that he gave her that filled their lives and would continue to grow…

“Could I…talk to you in private?” he whispered. 

Mikasa knew it was bad because Jean rarely hesitated. With one hand over his, she said, “Eren, Sasha, why don’t you see if your grandmother needs help? She’ll appreciate two little helpers.”

Eren and Sasha immediately took to cleaning up after themselves and walked over to their grandmother. Jean led Mikasa into his old room and quietly told her about what he saw when they were leaving the wedding reception. Mikasa’s eyebrows rose, and then her eyes narrowed. How were they to talk about this to the children, especially since Eren was about to start school and perhaps with children whose parents believed in the Yeagerists? Jean’s greater concern, however, was the children’s well-being. Of course, almost everybody knew that Eren and Sasha existed, but what if a Yeagerist tried to use them against their parents? 

Mikasa put her hand over his. “We will talk about it tomorrow night, when they are asleep,” she promised him. Then they stood up and helped their children set the table for dinner. 

“Hey Dada, did Gramma ever make cow for you when you were little?” asked Eren, who was biting on a strip of steak thicker than he could chew. “You should have seen how she does it! She says that you flip it over and keep it at a low heat but a longer time, and it helps if you don’t want it red in the middle.”

Jean was half-listening, his mind still worried for his children’s safety, but he nodded with what his son just learned. “Some people like their meat red,” he agreed, “but some people will get sick if they eat it.”

“How?” asked Eren. 

“We will tell you after we eat,” Mikasa took over. “What else did you learn with Gramma?”

Eren and Sasha babbled that the same lesson–low heat, long time–applied to vegetables as well, as Gramma showed the difference using green cabbage that were steaming on the table. Jean met his mother’s eye, but she focused more on her daughter-in-law’s plate, full of portions slightly larger than usual and even odd combinations…

“Sasha, will you eat your potatoes?” Mikasa complained. “You don’t know where we will find food for your next meal! And trust me. Going hungry does not feel good!”

Groaning, Sasha slowly shoved a spoonful of potato chunks into her mouth, glaring at her mother the entire time. Jean had to hold his breath so he wouldn’t laugh at the irony—of all the foods that little Sasha ever ate in her life, potatoes were the one food she hated.

***

It was strange that the Rumbling had ended years ago. So much had happened since then, but few things pleased Historia more than to see how everyone had seemed to grow closer. They had all gathered at her orphanage as both a reunion and a private place to talk about international relations without the fear of eavesdropping. 

Everyone had scattered between the picnic table, helping Historia bring out the food and treats, and within the fence, watching Eren and Sasha play with the orphans and observing how Armin never seemed to take his hand off his wife of five month’s back. They only stopped to eat, and the other ambassadors complimented how polite Eren and Sasha were to offer to collect the plates and utensils to take inside. Nothing made Jean feel prouder that he and Mikasa were parenting very well.

Once Eren and Sasha had resumed playing with the orphans, Historia resumed their important topic of discussion: the rising threat of the Yeagerists. The army wasn’t just growing stronger; it had also garnered new weapons that could kill thousands of people at once. 

“But does this mean that they’re ready to initiate war at this point, even against the same countries that provided these weapons?”

“No, Historia said, very specifically, that the Yeagerists are not planning an attack yet,” Annie reminded Pieck. “But…it’s getting to the point where she’s thinking about sending someone in to infiltrate the Yeagerists and see what they have access to.” She cast her eyes wistfully to the bench on which she sat. “And if they gain too much power…how will the rest of the world’s population look at us if part of us are trying to…you know, execute permanent annihilation of civilizations, and another part are trying to promote peace?”

Pieck turned her head to ask Mikasa something, but then forgot when she saw a look of discomfort on Mikasa’s face. “Mikasa?” she said. “What is it?”

Mikasa grit her teeth and took a deep breath. “I–I’m fine,” she heaved. “Just…could you find my husband for me, please?”

“Wha–” Then realization dawned on Pieck’s face. “Oh my, that’s–you’re in labor.”

Mikasa shushed her. “No, please don’t. I don’t want my children to hear and get worried. I just…” She closed her eyes. She didn’t want her children to see or hear her prepare to give birth. Otherwise, Eren would be reluctant to marry and condemn his wife to the pain of childbirth, and Sasha would be terrified to risk her life and go through labor. 

Pieck quickly left the picnic table and ran over to Jean, who was standing with Reiner and Historia, mindlessly talking. She whispered into Jean’s ear, and he faced her with shock. He hurried to his wife and knelt beside her. “Are you all right?” he hissed. “I didn’t think the baby would come so early–”

“N-Neither did I,” she grunted.

Jean caught Pieck whispering to the other adults. Historia ran over and helped Mikasa to her swollen feet. Her water had already broken, and her cheeks were flushed. “Annie and the men will keep an eye on the children,” Historia reassured the couple. “I talked to Pieck–she’s going to bring the midwives over to your house.”

Mikasa braved a look over her shoulder and fortunately, her children were still playing. “Historia…” she exhaled.

As Jean helped her into the wagon, Historia glanced back and forth between the remaining party and the couple. “How long did it take you to have your babies in the past?” she asked. 

“Four hours with Sasha, Eren was about five,” said Mikasa. Historia nodded and said that, if they were all right with it, the siblings could spend the night at Historia’s and go home after breakfast the next day. The couple reluctantly agreed.

The wagon arrived at the apartment just before the midwives arrived. By then the couple were in the bedroom, and Jean was trying to hold Mikasa steady as she drank from a glass of water. The midwives confirmed that she was ready to give birth. 

Holding her breath, Mikasa took off her scarf but clutched it in one hand so that Eren would still be with her once more in one of the most important moments of her life. 

***

The rooster woke up everyone in Historia’s daughter’s room. Even though the adults had woken up earlier during their time in the cadets, it was still an unwelcome disturbance in their states of peace. Armin yawned as he sat up and scratched the side of his head. Eren stirred in the sleeping bag beside him and then opened his eyes. Across from them, Connie was slow to wake; Sasha, curled up in his lap, rubbed her face and stretched her arms over her head. 

Eren immediately sat up. “Mama,” he whispered. He kicked himself out of the sleeping bag and stomped his way to his sister. “Sasha–” He grabbed her wrists and pulled her off Connie’s lap, ignoring her whines. “Sasha, is Mama–”

“Eren,” hissed Armin. “Don’t do that.” He pushed himself up and walked out of the room, coming back with Historia. She made the children eat with the orphans first and then allowed Connie and Armin to take them back home. The children hesitated out of fear for their mother’s well-being until Armin took Eren’s hand and Connie put Sasha on his hip. 

Jean’s mother opened the door. She must have arrived right after the midwives left. “Good morning, children,” she said with the love that she had for her darling grandchildren. “Your parents are awake. Come meet your new baby brother.”

Eren sighed in relief. Even Sasha was excited and grateful. They followed the older woman to the parents’ room. She softly knocked on the door and said in a softer voice, “Jean? Mikasa? The children are awake.”

“Come in,” said Jean.

Jean’s mother opened the door, where Eren and Sasha saw their parents curled in bed. Both were smiling down at the tiny hand reaching from the bundle that Mikasa and Jean shared, and they smiled even more when they looked up at their older children. Eren let go of Armin’s hand and made a beeline for his father, who picked him up and sat him on his lap. Connie set Sasha on the foot of the bed, and she crawled between her mother and father. Mikasa kissed her children’s heads and showed them the baby’s face. He had Jean’s eye shape but Mikasa’s eye color. Eren saw their father in the baby’s nose and lips. 

Cautiously, Sasha put her hand on her baby brother’s chest. Eren gently kissed the baby’s ear. Jean beamed at his children displaying affection to the newest addition to their family; Mikasa looked relieved that they were embracing their new roles as big brother and big sister. 

***

Most of the orphans had grown up at this point but still stayed close to the orphanage to assist with childcare and maintenance in between deciding how to spend their adulthoods. With Historia’s permission, they let some of the children ride horses around the lawn. The younger ones gathered around Eren, who enthusiastically taught them a game that seemed to be a combination of tag and hide and seek. 

“He’s everything like his namesake, just without the temper and the hothead,” Annie said at Jean’s side, startling him. On his hip he balanced young Sasha, who had just recovered from an ear infection but still complained that her head hurt and that her nose was runny. Annie smiled at the little girl who looked up curiously, as though she had never seen the former Warrior before. 

“Does this make you want little ones of your own?” Jean innocently asked. “Or…do you prefer observing them rather than making them a full-time job?”

Annie looked up at his eyes and then back down to Sasha sticking her finger in her red ear. “Maybe one day,” she said, “but only if Armin wants to–and I know how not to raise them, like my father did.” Her eyes flickered in sadness, but she chuckled when she focused on the running children.

Jean felt a tug on his pant leg. Little Marco stared up at him. His eyes were wide with a question that he could not ask. Jean touched his head, which sprouted black cowlicks that reminded him so much of his late friend. “Yes, little guy?”

“Dada, can I go…” Marco mumbled, still learning his words.

“Of course,” said Jean. “Eren! Will you come here and let your brother play?”

Eren whined but told the orphans to hold up, and he ran over to the hill. “All right, I got him,” said Eren. He picked up his brother, who wrapped his arms around Eren’s neck and dangled his tiny legs. “Come on, Marco. You’re getting heavy!”

Jean chuckled and watched Eren carry Marco halfway through the field before eventually giving up and setting him on his feet. Marco toddled in Eren’s shadow on his way to the older children. Some of them made faces that they had to slow down for a toddler, but the others cheered on Marco and his unsteady steps.

Jean sat down beside Annie, with Armin joining in and pulling his wife to sit between his legs. She leaned her head against his shoulder and laced her fingers between his. Jean discreetly watched the couple and patted Sasha’s back as she made noises in the back of her throat. Mikasa joined him later and watched Eren pretend to run slower than he really was so Marco could have a winning chance. 

She remembered Carla insisting that her own son was not going to join the army and become a soldier. It was the first time, perhaps, that she had seen the kind woman so angry that she yelled at her child for something other than misbehavior. Even though Mikasa tried to parent her children from what she remembered of her own mother and Carla, she wondered how she would react if one of them expressed a desire for a career in the military. Now more than ever, with the Yeagerists growing more influential, it was both more and less dangerous compared to when the Titans were their main enemy. 

Mikasa snapped out of her musings when Jean called over Marco and saw that he needed changing. As Jean carried Marco to a more private place, Mikasa cradled Sasha in her arms and thought more about surrendering Sasha or one or both of her brothers into the army. Remembering that her children were named in honor of fallen comrades made Mikasa reluctant to imagine them in uniform. Sasha traced with her finger the brand on the back of her mother’s hand, and Mikasa knew that, even though the children would not carry on her maiden name, they could still choose if they wanted to brand themselves as a reminder of the family legacy.

***

Eren was eight when the nightmares began.

That day, Mikasa and Jean took their children to the graveyard to have little Sasha put flowers on her namesake’s grave on her birthday and stayed longer than intended when her namesake’s parents arrived. They marveled over how big the children were and told them that Kaya was engaged but still active with the other orphans at the farm. 

That night, Marco helped his mother bake bread and Jean read to his older children until dinnertime. Then Mikasa ran Sasha a bath and told her funny stories about her namesake and all the trouble she got herself into but all the fun that they had together, even though they had different personalities. Jean lured Marco to sleep as Mikasa had Eren and Sasha read out loud until the children’s eyes drooped. Then their parents tucked them into bed.

Eren dreamt that he and his brother and sister were running on a sunny day, but they didn’t know where. He just wanted to challenge them over who was the fastest, knowing that he would win because Sasha’s skirts slowed her down, and Marco’s legs were still short. The three of them laughed and ran up a hill until they saw a giant tree in its entirety.

Immediately, Eren stopped running, and so did Sasha and Marco. It looked exactly like the tree that their mother and father took them to visit every year, where his mother had buried his namesake, but it could not have been that tree; he would have realized that they were on the hill that they had to climb up to see the burial tree. Even though part of him wanted to turn around and go home, the other half was curious as to why this tree was unlike the one that he visited yearly. 

Eren held Sasha’s and Marco’s hands on their way further up the hill to investigate the difference between this tree and the special one. Neither of them spoke. They craned their necks for any suspicious branches or tree roots. The hairs on the back of Marco’s neck stood up; Sasha had an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. 

Then, on the other side of the tree, was a hollow much bigger than even their own house. It was completely black. Nothing seemed to move inside. Still, Eren was interested. 

“I don’t want to go in,” said Marco, who seemed to suspect his brother’s curiosity. 

“Me neither,” added Sasha. 

Eren tugged on their hands. “Come on, don’t be scared,” he said. “Nothing will hurt you. I don’t think anything even lives there.”

“You don’t know that,” said Sasha, “because you can’t see it to be sure–”

“Well, then, how will we know if it is something’s habitat if we don’t see for ourselves?” Eren impatiently interrupted. “Come on!”

He pulled them to the tree and into the hollow. It was so dark that he could not see his own hand. The ground at his feet was soft. Curiosity grew, and he wanted to see what was inside, if anything. 

Eren didn’t realize that he had let go of his siblings’ hands until he slipped and fell down a long downward tunnel. As he felt bruises form on his face and legs, the screams of Sasha and Marco grew fainter and fainter until he splashed into a cold pond. 

Eren held his breath on time, but his body was in such pain that he couldn’t move his arms. The stinging would not go away. Carefully, he opened his eyes, which didn’t hurt under the cold water, but he couldn’t see anything. Eren willed himself to move his body despite the pain and slowly moved his arms over his head. 

Suddenly, he felt a gentle trickling alongside his spine that offered a mild comfort. Eren tried to push himself up, but the grip down his backbone only strengthened and quickly sent uncomfortable sensations throughout his body. His eyes throbbed, and everything turned white, and his limbs tugged, and his jaw ached, and he didn’t know if he was dying or becoming some strange creature, but he knew that he did not like like and wanted to get out–

Eren’s eyes flapped open. It was dark! Panicking, he sat up ready to scream, but then he saw a window and soft moonlight peering into the room. Terror seized him. Was it a dream or did it really happen? Eren shivered and looked down, but it was just his sleepwear wet with sweat. If he had fallen into water, he most certainly would be wearing dry clothes, whether he dressed himself or his parents did. 

Eren steadied his breathing and worried that he woke his brother and sister. Luckily, both were still deeply asleep: Marco had his thumb in his mouth, and Sasha was unaware that her doll had fallen to the floor.

Quietly, Eren left his bed, put the doll back into Sasha’s hand, walked to the kitchen, poured himself water, and shakily retreated to his room. Closing the door made him feel both safe and scared at the same time.

The following night, he was still walking through the tree, but this time he had dragged his brother and sister with him. Marco whimpered to himself, and Sasha clung to Eren’s arm as he walked them into oblivion, into the path of a pale blue glow, one that attracted him and gave him the sense of power, strength, a lineage of immortality…

“Eren! Eren!”

Then Eren’s eyes opened. It was his father, who looked terrified. He was still in his room. To his left, his mother consoled a hysterical Marco. Sasha clutched Mikasa’s skirt and also looked at Eren with fear. 

Eren sat up when Jean let go of his wrists and looked around. “What happened?”

“You were having a bad dream,” said Jean. “Your brother woke us up, and you were crying and moving around in your bed like you were running for your life.” He pushed Eren’s wet hair from his forehead. “You’re safe, son. I know that you probably don’t want to talk about it–”

“No, no!” sobbed Eren. He shook his head so fiercely that his bangs slapped against his wet face. “I don’t want to remember it! Dada, I’m scared!” He wiped his wet eyes. “It wasn’t a human, but I’m scared that–” He wept again. 

Jean picked up Eren and carried him into his parents’ room, gently shushing him and rubbing his back. Mikasa then tucked in the other children, reassured them that Eren would be all right, and kissed them good night again. She came back to her room and helped Eren change into clean clothes and mop his sweaty face and back. When Eren had calmed down, he tightly hugged under his mother’s ribs. “Mama, I was scared. I had a dream that I put Sasha and Marco in danger, that I saw this scary tree like the one we go to every year, and–and I got big and mean and killed so many people–”

Eren silently wept again. His concerned mother and father sensed the full details of his nightmare but gently reassured him that he was smarter than to have done something like that, and of course that he knew that killing was wrong. 

Still, Eren didn’t look convinced. He had told them how scared he was of the Yeagerists in town and that they were trying to recruit some of the older schoolchildren into dropping out of school to join their cause. Even though Eren knew that what they wanted and believed in was wrong, it caused fights in school and pitted children against each other; he lost some good friends and worried that the Yeagerists would try to convince him to be like his namesake and undo everything that his father worked hard to promote. Many times, Mikasa and Jean contemplated taking their children out of school and sending them abroad for their education, but in the end did not want Sasha and her brothers to be too far away from home.

“I don’t want to be a bad person,” said Eren, “but I don’t want to be a bad person who doesn’t know it. I want to be like you, Mama, Dada, but I don’t want to make things worse than they already are!”

“I know, son,” said Jean, “and we are both so proud of you and your sister and brother for how good you are. You three are good children, and we know that you’re scared.”

Eren silently nodded.

“Dada and I will talk about it,” said Mikasa. “We want to discuss some good ways that you can deal with it if you feel pressure to join and not have to get hurt.” She kissed his cheek. “Try and get some sleep, Eren. We can talk about this with Sasha and Marco tomorrow before we go on the trip.”

Eren tried to feel better but was still uneasy. He didn’t want there to be an attack at school that the Yeagerists pretended was not their doing just so they could get little boys and girls to join them. Even though that never happened, he heard Dada talk about some countries where that did happen– “inner terrorism”, Dada said it was. He didn’t believe in their cause but knew that he couldn’t fight them alone, and that hurting other people to stop it would make it worse.

***

The horses galloped across the grass, at a distance that seemed unfathomable to the cadets years ago. They ran past sights that they had never before seen. For the human inhabitants of the island, such a sight would have seemed imaginative but impossible. It was so large compared to the nature once confined within the walls. 

Eventually, the humans on the horses halted them. In front was the sand and the ocean that stretched on for miles. It was even more beautiful than they had remembered the first time that they laid eyes on the blue saltwater. 

Armin was the first to dismount and waited for Eren to let go of his father’s waist, then helped him down. Connie jumped onto the ground and pulled Sasha off his horse’s back, and Mikasa told Marco that he could open his eyes, having clung to his mother’s front the entire ride. When Marco saw the ocean, his jaw dropped. “Mama…” He pointed to the ocean as if she had never seen it before. “Look!”

Mikasa smiled and carefully took him off the horse so that he didn’t have to look away. “Yes, Marco,” she whispered. “This is what the ocean looks like, not just when your father boarded that ship.”

By this point, Eren and Sasha had stripped down to their underwear and ran to the ocean until they were up to their waists. They splashed at the surface and flicked water at each other. Meanwhile, as Connie and Armin kept watch over the children, Mikasa and Jean took off Marco’s shoes, held his hands, and walked him along the wet sand. Marco squealed when the cold wave washed over his feet, but then he giggled and waved his arms. “Again, again!”

Sasha cartwheeled in the smaller waves, and Eren scooped up handfuls of sand, which he threw at his sister. Sasha protested and flung a fistful of wet sand at his chest.

“Sasha! Eren!” cried their parents. “If you continue to do that, you won’t be allowed to pay in the ocean anymore!”

“Sorry!” they apologized simultaneously. 

Armin waved them over and showed them how to find seashells and small conches in the wet sand. The siblings spent the afternoon trying to carry as many in their arms and looking for bigger sizes. Armin only pulled them away from large jellyfish, and Connie chased the children into the ocean, and then let them chase him back to the beach, laughing the entire time.

When lunch was ready, Mikasa carried Marko to the blanket, and Eren and Sasha rushed to the dry sand. Armin gave them towels to dry off, which they wrapped around their bodies like capes, and Connie helped them fill their plates with warm meat and vegetables to put on top of their bread. Sasha and her brothers ate quickly, eager to go back to the water. Marco admired the conches that his brother and sister found. 

Only after lunch was over did Jean let Eren and Sasha grab his hands and pull him back to the ocean, where he fell to his knees and let his children climb up his back. Eren and Sasha giggled and held on while he spun in circles. Marco held out his arms and whined, but Mikasa set him on her lap and watched her other children try to climb higher onto Jean’s shoulders. Jean pretended to drop Eren, and then mimicked throwing Sasha farther away.

Armin joined her after cleaning up and wanted to cry. Even though the ocean had always brought him joy, it always occurred to him the series of events that led to massive loss of life and then the death of his best friend. Of course he adored the little Kirsteins, but did his best friend, who loved him like a brother, really need to initiate a war with worldwide civilizations for little Sasha and her brothers to exist? Even if Eren knew that Mikasa and even Jean were the happiest that they had ever been, would he still have gathered followers to promote his beliefs even after his death just so their children could grow up safe? The Yeagerists were still gathering power in the island, and Armin worried that the world was more dangerous to little Marco and his older siblings than the threat of Titans. 

Marco crawled out of his mother’s lap and tried to run his hands over Connie’s growing buzzcut, but he didn’t want to pull himself off his knees. Connie, chuckling, lowered his head for Marco’s curiosity. Armin watched Marco move his fingers and babble incoherently, wondering if his work as a peace ambassador was enough for him to ensure that the next generation of Arlets would understand the sacrifices that his fallen comrades had made and still not worry for their lives. 

***

Mikasa knelt down to the tree roots and smiled at the headstone. “Hello, Eren,” she said softly. 

Behind her, Eren and Sasha impatiently held the flowers to put on the headstone and tried to leave their mother in peace with the first person she truly loved. To Eren’s left, Armin held his son’s—named after his paternal grandfather—hand, and Annie put her hand over where she felt her second child, hopefully a little girl, kick without mercy. (Jean, on the other hand, was at the cabin, helping Marco fight a fever.)

Mikasa shared that her children were fast runners and wanted to go back to see the beach. They shared all the chores and were very good readers. All three of them took singing lessons at school, and Eren and Marco took to heart Jean’s advice that women like men who could cook. (Of course, that was not the reason why Mikasa married Jean.) Eren stood up for classmates from bullies without getting into physical fights, Sasha was an excellent archer who could hit a target even while riding a horse but still hated potatoes (and was sometimes caught sneaking hers to an unsuspecting brother), and Marco had beautiful handwriting and started losing his first teeth.

Then little Eren put down the flowers and excitedly said that the year before, he and Sasha asked Dada to take them with him on his journey to other countries. After careful discussions with Historia and the other ambassadors, they agreed on the condition that Jean would be responsible for where to put the children during confidential meetings. Mama stayed behind with Marco and little Arlet, and Eren and Sasha ran around the steamboat to explore the inner workings, ate fresh seafood every day, and giggled when Pieck pointed out the mirror where Jean studied his appearance to look more attractive. Even their cabins and the water for bathing were warm. 

Upon arrival to Marley, the ambassadors bought an ice cream for the little Kirsteins to share, caught up with Yelena, and left Eren and Sasha with Levi, who had since opened a tea shop but treated the children to lollipops. Even though the Warrior Unit heard the story before, they laughed when Connie, Armin, and Jean recounted to Jean’s children their first trip to Marley and their unfortunate first interaction with alcohol. Eren and Sasha howled until their stomachs hurt. 

It had rained that night, so Reiner wanted to cancel his plans to show everyone all of the trees that Gabi and Falco had planted but gave in when everyone insisted, nonetheless. Jean made sure that Eren and Sasha wore their “chore’s clothes” as they inevitably played in the mud.

The best part, according to Eren, was that as soon as Reiner introduced the children who were coated in wet dirt to Gabi and Falco, Sasha greeted them by throwing a fistful of mud at Gabi’s face. Jean was too horrified to confront her. Reiner, however, laughed hysterically, to Connie’s and Armin’s confusion. “At last, Sasha has her revenge.” (And no, Gabi was not mad but laughed at the little girl. She even lent Sasha a clean nightgown while her and Eren’s clothes were in the wash.)

They went to so many countries and explored so many things that Eren and Sasha were exhausted on the trip home and slept for two whole days in the cabin. When they did wake up, they went back to chasing each other around the steamboat and learning how it worked, and tired themselves sharing with their mother what they had learned.

By this point, Eren’s throat was dry, so Mikasa patted his back to make him feel less guilty that he ran out of stories already. He listened to Sasha talk about her friends, and Armin encouraged his son to say hi to a headstone. 

When they arrived at the cabin for lunch, Jean had just pulled Marco from a hot bath and quickly put him to nap so he could help his wife. Eren and Sasha grabbed apples from the kitchen bowl and took little Arlet outside to feed the horses; Annie watched from the kitchen as Eren held up her son in his arms and instructed him to give the apple to the horse. At first, the little boy looked terrified as the horse sniffed his fingers but then giggled as the horse bit into the apple from his hand and munched.

The children came back inside for a lovely lunch and to watch Annie, with insane cravings, consume almost every pie on display. The adults pretended not to notice, let alone watch, but Annie was fully aware and did her best to chew slowly and savor the taste before swallowing. 

***

And just like that, everything changed. 

Jean and Mikasa were napping after a post-lunch round of sex when they heard the explosion. Jean quickly dressed and stepped onto the balcony to scan the city. The look he gave his wife terrorized her. 

“It’s the school,” he whispered. 

The couple fought their way through the panicked crowds, but the crowd only seemed bigger as worried parents tried to get closer, but the “police” held them back while the headmistress refused to let any children go home until every child was out of the rubble. 

Mikasa craned her neck to watch the smoke reach for the sky, and visions of dead children’s bodies came back. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. This could not be happening again, it could not, and she knew that the Yeagerists had to have been responsible just to create horror. Jean was right–inner terrorism was the worst kind.

Teachers led schoolchildren out of the front door and had them stand in a line for a proper headcount. Parents shouted for their children, who cried and pleaded to go home, but it all made Mikasa feel worse. 

“Eren!” cried Jean. “Marco! Sasha!”

Mikasa joined him in crying out for Sasha and her brothers, but it was twenty minutes before they saw Eren’s face in the line pouring out of the front door. He was crying but grabbing his friend Bryce’s shoulders while another boy clutched his.

“Thank goodness,” Jean muttered. “Sasha! Marco!” 

Thankfully, Sasha’s class stepped out after five minutes, and they identified their daughter in the crowd. Sasha tried to run over, but her friend Ashly pulled on her arm, so she spent the time holding hands with Ashly and their friend Megan. She was visibly crying but clearly trying to console her friends. Mikasa sighed in relief to erase a terrifying vision of Sasha’s body, prone and still like her late namesake’s. 

Jean put his hands on her arms and tried to comfort her for what seemed like hours.

“Kirstein!” roared a teacher. It caught Jean’s and Mikasa’s attention just in time for Marco, his little face covered in soot, to hurry out of the building with his best friend’s arm around his shoulders. They cried out for him, but he likely could not hear them. Austin was bleeding so profusely that Marco had taken off his own jacket to push against the head wound. 

Fortunately, a teacher swooped in. “Here, Marco,” he said. “I got him, thank you.” Marco cried as he watched Austin being carried away from him until their teacher called for Marco to join the line. 

In that moment, Jean’s panic faded and turned into utmost pride for his youngest child.

***

Jean washed his face of his tears and stared at his reflection. Not even the relief that his children were safe was enough to calm him down or make him stop crying. He tried not to think of how hard the children were crying or how terrified they were so that their parents had to carry them home. It took hours for them to calm down, take baths, and cuddle with their parents until they fell asleep on the couch.

Mikasa was sitting on the chair beside the couch and silently weeping as she clutched a mug of tea. She shook her head. “They will never forget this,” she whispered. She set down her mug and pulled her husband into a fierce hug. He let her cry on his shoulder and studied how the children twitched in their sleep, Marco silently crying, Sasha gripping the skirt of her nightgown, and Eren pushing his face into the seat of the couch. As soon as Jean’s mother returned to keep an eye on the children, the couple snuck out and rode to meet with the Queen, who was just as devastated. 

“I know it was the Yeagerists,” she said and went into detail about a mole who infiltrated the Yeagerists and confirmed the weaponry used to explode the school, kill twenty-four children, and hospitalize over fifty. Mikasa’s heart pounded in hatred, and Jean hung his head against his wife’s shoulder. The mole, however, did not know that the school would be a target; from what the Queen gathered, the attacks were to be random.

Within two hours, they sketched out a plan: Because the anniversary of the Battle of Heaven and Earth was approaching, she would assign Mikasa, Connie, Jean, Armin, Reiner, and Pieck to parade through the streets in celebration and commemoration of the lives lost; their job was to keep an eye out for anyone who may not be celebrating and make a report to Historia. Annie, on hiatus after the birth of baby Arlet number three, would sneak the little Kirsteins and Arlets to the Blouse farm for hiding until it was safe to go home. If the Blouse family approved, they would take in the children two days before the parade was announced. 

Naturally, the late Sasha’s family was happy to take in Annie and the children, but Reiner and Pieck, having moved back to Marley, were hesitant and worried that it would just lead to more casualties. With convincing from Armin, whose own firstborn was due to start school the following year, they agreed to come as soon as possible.

Mikasa, Jean, and Armin had to console their frightened children about the distance and the undisclosed amount of time that they wouldn’t see their parents. With wigs and new clothes, Annie and the children departed by wagon to Dauper. Mikasa and the men watched with pained hearts as the wagon faded into a small dot, and reluctantly turned away from their dearest loves. 

***

The couple pretended not to feel awkward that they were parading around town to commemorate their victory at an inappropriate anniversary. It would have been better to have erected a memorial of all the late soldiers who died during and before the Battle.

Instead, they scanned the crowds to find hostile looks and suspicious people, yet they also saw grateful townspeople eager to stare at the heroes of so many years ago. Their uniforms were recently cleaned, and they received new versions of their since-retired gear, from the blades to the Thunder Spears. In the far distance, Armin saw three children–two little boys and a little girl–climb onto the roof of a house to watch. He secretly smiled to himself in nostalgia and confidence. 

It’s nice to know that some people still believe in us and are grateful for all that we had done years ago, he decided to tell his friends after the parade. However, he thought back to that one fateful day, when he and Eren and Mikasa snuck a peek at the parade of the Survey Corps, only to find a defeated team that suffered more than it gained. He hoped that somehow, this act sent a positive message to the next generation whom he had to protect from the threat of destruction and massive death. 

Jean made himself smile as he admired strangers and was showered in rose petals. Years ago, he would have done anything to do this and get girls’ attention, even if it wasn’t to find a lifelong mate. Now he had a real job to ensure the continued safety of his pride and joy, all three of whom, according to Annie’s recent letter, were recovering as long as they helped with the farm and practiced riding horses. Jean scanned the crowd for anyone who perhaps indicated signs of affiliation to the Military Police. It seemed like such a long time ago that he had wanted to be one of them and live a life of luxury. 

Ka-BOOM!

The explosion was louder than at the school, and not just because of the close distance. Jean knew from the smoke that it was of greater ammunition. Then he heard another explosion, and more people screamed and huddled to the ground or pushed past each other.

“Everybody get inside!” Mikasa roared, and she and her surviving soldiers galloped to the scene of devastation. She did not want it to be another school–no more children deserved to struggle with the trauma that her children were fighting–and she certainly did not want it to be a crowded building like a hospital. Luckily, the road ahead of her was cleared with not even a wheel to slow down her horse. “Seek shelter! Do not hover around!”

Then they erupted out of nowhere. 

The capes were long gone, but the tails of their coats fluttered behind them like the former uniform. Mikasa’s heart pounded in anger. They did not deserve to wear the wings of freedom anymore. They took that symbol as their own and dishonored it so that it lost its true, original meaning. 

The Yeagerists swooped down to assault the former soldiers who still rode like a windstorm and pulled out their gear. Jean clutched his handlebars and glared at the monsters who dared to threaten the lives and well-being of the three people he loved above anything else. Adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream, and the hatred that he once felt for the Titans was now reserved for those who sought destruction, not peace.

“Jean…!”

Jean barely turned his head to his wife’s direction as everything went black and the screams of Reiner, Armin, Pieck, and Connie faded…

The surprising, blinding light snapped Jean from unconsciousness, and he trembled as his vision cleared. When he finally came to his senses, he realized that he was in a basement with lanterns. About ten people in the now dishonorable uniform were glaring at him. He tried to move but realized that he was hanging by his wrists from the ceiling.

“Nice to meet you, Kirstein,” said a young man who reminded him of Samuel. “We’ve heard a lot about you and are so delighted to put a name to the face.”

Jean scoffed. “Nice to meet the people who threatened my children’s lives by blowing up their school and harming innocent children.”

The man’s laugh was like cold water. “Ah, seems like your personality hasn’t changed since your hotheaded days with the cape.” He pushed back his hair. “I guess there are some things that don’t go away when you become a father.”

“Not everything has to change when your life isn’t about you anymore,” Jean spat. “But yeah, if you’re going to torture me to demand where my children are, I wouldn’t even bother to tell you their first words.”

Some of the other occupants snickered at the jab. “We’ll get to that later. Honestly, we’re more curious about something else.”

“Listen to me, you dirty devils,” Jean growled. “I know what you’re trying to do, but trust me. You’re only going to make things worse. The cause is dead, and you’re following a destructive path that will kill everything and everyone you care about.” He tried not to think about Mikasa in the past, only the Mikasa who was now his wife.

One young man grabbed his ankle and pulled off his boot, and Jean’s heart pounded in his ears. “You really believe you can take down the Yeagerists, after all we’re doing in the name of your late friend?” he sneered. "If that's so, then why even bother naming your first son after your old friend? Didn't you try to talk your wife out of it?"

“You’re only causing more pain, more hardship to children who will not understand that you cannot always solve a problem by becoming part of the problem,” Jean hissed. “You’re only spreading the disease when you think you are curing it.” He tugged on his constraints. "And we named our son Eren...because for all the harm that the first Eren I knew caused, my Eren...my little ray of light...will bring back together what my friend had torn apart."

The young man gave him a twisted look. “A disease, you think Eren’s cause was, to free us from discrimination?” He pulled out of his pocket a hammer and slammed it so hard against Jean’s instep that he heard the cracks before he felt the bones break.

***

Mikasa glared at the young woman whom she had followed and cornered in an alley. “Hitch,” she spat. “I should have known that you were a leader in this.”

Annie’s former roommate snickered. “A leader?” she stupidly repeated. “Just because I’m fighting for a cause that I believe in doesn’t mean that I always take the reins. Whose idea was it to have this stupid parade, anyway–yours?”

“Like hell,” Mikasa huffed. “I did not want to celebrate history this way unless we erected a monument for all of those who lost their lives to preserve Paradis Island without harm to others.”

Hitch’s mouth twitched. “That sounds so unlike you, Mikasa,” she chuckled, and Mikasa couldn’t tell if she was being serious or sarcastic. “It looks like you’ve had a complete change of heart ever since you became a mother. Didn’t you ever tell your children how Mommy was a tag-a-long for almost her entire life?”

Mikasa arched her feet and gripped her handlebars so that her knuckles were white. “Well, if I can recall, I got to where I was from natural talent, not through perhaps dishonorable means.”

Suddenly, Hitch’s eyes flickered, and she reached into her pocket and pulled out a gun. 

Mikasa was quicker in deflecting the bullets with her blades until Hitch ran out. Growling, she tossed it aside and raised her fists, in a position that she clearly learned from Annie. “Fine, then,” said Mikasa, who took off her own gear. “Let’s do it evenly. Give me everything you got.”

Hitch huffed, and the women ran forward.

***

Jean clenched his fists over the chains holding his arms over his head and tried not to show any sign of pain on his face. Both of his feet were broken, and he had a sensation like blood was pouring from his legs. Nevertheless, he glared at the damn Yeagerists who gave him looks of death that he delightfully returned. It’s not just that you wanted to kill innocent children, innocent lives, he wanted to scream at them. I know that you wanted to create an attack just so you can drive more people to your case, even if they left years ago!

“Are you ready to speak now?” sneered a soldier. “We have so many questions to ask, and we have all the time we need to beat them out of you.”

Jean nastily grinned. “I’d like to see you try.”

The soldier grabbed Jean’s leg by the knee. “All right, then–”

Within seconds, the pain of a dislocated knee soared up Jean’s thigh.

***

Just then, Hitch raised her leg and kicked Mikasa in the chin, sending her tumbling back. 

The nasty chuckle that Hitch gave only angered Mikasa even more. “Motherhood clearly made you lose ground,” she taunted as she wiped her bloody nose. “It looks like you forgot what made you graduate at the top of your class.”

Not quite, Mikasa thought to herself. She pushed herself to her feet and ran forward, but Hitch was faster–a kick toward the face, but Mikasa defected it, grabbed Hitch’s knee, and spun her around so that Hitch instantly fell to the ground facedown. 

Same person, the black-haired woman thought to herself, different enemy closer to home. Then she grabbed Hitch by her elbows, forced her up onto her knees, and stepped on her ankles. “Where is my husband?” she spat. “If you thought your defeat was embarrassing, imagine what I can do to ten more people–it helped me take down more Titans than you would believe.”

Hitch snorted, so Mikasa pushed up her arm until Hitch cried out from the pain of a dislocated shoulder. “I’ll keep asking you until you give me a truthful answer,” she warned. “Trust me–I could do this as long as I need to.” She then shoved her knee into Hitch’s lower back. “But if you lure me into a trap, I have no problem finding you after I escape, and making you wish that I had killed you.”

Hitch groaned and hung her head. For extra security, Mikasa dislocated the other woman’s knees and paraded her throughout the empty streets. Seeing curious and relieved faces made the mother of three satisfied that not everybody agreed with the Yeagerists, yet also displeased that they refused to fight back and relied on semi-retired soldiers to take down the threat of terrorism.

You disappoint me, she bitterly thought.

***

I will not give in, Jean mentally shouted. He grit his teeth and ignored the pain in his knee. 

He thought of Mikasa, how she slowly became more than an infatuation and then his life partner. She was hesitant to return his feelings, not out of guilt for Eren but to ensure that Jean’s feelings were genuine and not out of lust. He asked every time he wanted to do something new, from holding her hand to kissing her cheek. One time, before they moved in together, she was crying so hard that he cradled her in his arms until they fell asleep together. When she woke up, she thanked him for not leaving her then, nor for taking advantage of her. He reassured her that any man who would harm a woman like that was a monster, and that she herself deserved comfort. 

“Answer me!” yelled a young woman who swiftly dislocated his right elbow. Jean groaned, but at least his arm was not broken or being dismembered. 

He concentrated on the first time they made love, how sweet and passionate they made it, how they were slow to undress each other. He listened to her every need and for discomfort because she deserved to enjoy it and feel safe at the same time. He had tears in his eyes because he could not believe that this was happening. He intertwined his fingers with hers, and pulled over her head and squeezed her hand, and barely winced when she sank her fingernails into his back. It was sweat and happy tears and desperate kisses on both ends. She had finished before he did, but he knew that a one-night stand or with someone for whom he did not feel as he did Mikasa would not have brought him to that intensity. Afterwards, he kissed her forehead and wrapped their blanket–and his arms–tightly around her as they whispered to each other to sleep.

His other elbow throbbed, but he pretended not to feel pain, for he recalled that one special memory, when he and his wife studied each other and made love in the cold river outside their log cabin. It wasn’t their first time in the river, but it was the most special because two days later, her birthday present to him was a tiny box with white baby shoes inside. Jean had never cried harder from joy at that point in his life until she had the baby.

He thought of the births of his children and the delight and fear each time that he became a father. Being the first to hold his children in his arms gave him an elation that no poem or song could sum up. Even the mild moments of frustration were nothing compared to the joy of watching them grow up into better human beings than he had ever been, and he was determined to maintain their sense of safety throughout their lives. 

He thought of his children’s namesakes, and why he and his wife agreed to name them after beloved friends. Whenever Eren made friends with boys and girls who didn’t fit in, Sasha poked her head through hanging laundry just to puff her cheeks when she knew that her father was unhappy, or Marco tried to fix his own problems on his own before asking for help, Jean wondered if his fallen friends were proud of the legacy that Jean was giving him in their honor. All he wanted was for them to grow up healthy and strong, and give him and his wife similar–if not greater–grandchildren. 

Pound, POUND!

“Who the hell is that?” someone demanded.

Through blurry eyes, Jean turned his head to the knocking. Just then, the door opened, and a body flung onto the floor. 

“Hitch!” cried the Yeagerists. Jean noticed that his former ally was hog-tied and gagged with a white cloth, and his eyes widened.

“Who did this to you?”

“Was it one of those so-called Warriors?”

They removed the gag from her mouth, and Hitch was crying from either pain or humiliation. “It…It was…”

The door flung open. “Come and get me,” said the voice that he loved to hear every day, the voice that thanked him for being a wonderful father and husband, the voice that whispered every time they made love…

Still, Jean struggled to focus, but he knew from the constant grunts and her angry yells that his warrior wife was winning. He heard the snap of broken bones and bodies slammed against the wall in a dizzying circle. It ended with deep pants. 

“Thanks for the tip, Hitch,” he heard her say right before a crunch, a cry, and a body slump. Then the footsteps drew closer. “Jean! Oh, thank goodness, you’re still alive.”

Jean grinned, but his body ached for him to willingly talk. She grabbed his face and kissed him. “Stay with me, all right?”

She searched the unconscious bodies for the key and freed him from his chains. He partially collapsed onto her and groaned. “Th–They dislocated…” He tried to lift his aching head. “All the joints…they hurt…”

“I know,” she said, “but I’ll help you out of here.”

With one arm over her shoulder, she escorted him up the stairs and into the sunlight. She set him onto the ground and knelt down to stroke his face until Armin and the others arrived. Reiner picked up Jean and carried him all the way to the hospital, where Jean passed out in the cool building.

***

Jean was slow to wake up but knew that he could not stay asleep anymore. He dimly opened his eyes and failed to suppress a yawn. His wife was curled up in the sheets, her bare back against his bare chest and her long hair tumbling over the pillow. He had his arm around her waist and his bare leg draped over hers. A hot flash erupted in his chest. How did he get so lucky that his dreams became manifestations that turned out to be better than he imagined? 

He didn’t know if she was feigning sleep, so he decided not to surprise her with an omelet or treat himself to scotch. He just wanted to live in this moment for as long as he could. They were talking seriously about expanding their family, and he knew that once a child entered their lives, they would have limited time alone, even to conceive again. The one thing he knew, though, was that, regardless of how many children she bore and how her body would change, he would still find her attractive and want to squeeze her against his naked body in his sleep, just like in the present. 

“Jean?” It was her sweet voice. “Are you awake?”

“No,” he responded. “Why? Are you hungry?”

“I’m not.” She adjusted her arm over the blanket. “I’ve been awake since the sun rose. I just didn’t want to get out of bed.”

Jean pulled her closer to his chest and moved his arm to align under hers. “Me neither.” He shoved his face between her shoulder and neck, and breathed in her natural scent. “I never thought how much I could appreciate mornings like this, where we have nothing to wake up to.”

Mikasa huffed. “Agreed.” She hesitated. “We had too many sacrifices and unnecessary deaths to bring us here, but…our–our roles that we had in bringing us this peace…I wouldn’t give up anything.”

No matter how much Jean would miss Marco and Sasha, and mourn that even Levi’s past squad never had this chance to wake up with an intimate partner, he felt that neither would have wanted him to be deprived of that privilege. If even one cadet could find lifelong happiness and live a desired life outside the army, then that was for what his fallen comrades had fought.

Secretly, Jean wondered if Eren, his family, and even Jean’s late in-laws would have thanked him for making Mikasa happy, the way that Jean’s mother had thanked her. Even if his mother had hated her and did not think that her son could feel safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, Jean would still want to marry, have a family with, and grow old with the orphan girl. How Jean yearned to tell his younger self that he and the young woman whose long black hair he adored would make each other happier than he ever imagined. 

***

There were dim sounds, like speech–different people talking, with old and younger pitches. Nothing was clear yet, but they were familiar sounds. Some sounded worried, others uncertain. His body felt like it was levitating like in a street magic show. Blood rushed down his face, and his skin started to hurt. What was this? Was this a new Path that he somehow joined?

Wait–there was light, light ahead…and some dark shape at the end of it…

Jean slowly opened his eyes. Mikasa smiled in relief. “Thank goodness,” she whispered. She held up a white cloth and dabbed at his warm face. Jean signed as the memories came back of the torture and pain, but she was safe. She was alive. It wasn’t a dream, he knew. 

Suddenly, their three children’s faces popped into his sight. “Dada!” they cheered. 

“Children, shush,” said Mikasa. “You promised that you would keep your voice down when he woke up.”

Sasha climbed as much as she could onto the bed and kissed Jean’s cheek. “We were worried, Dada,” she said. “Then Uncle Armin and Uncle Connie came to the farm after two days–we were very good–and they didn’t say what happened.”

Eren pulled Sasha off the bed by her waist and ignored her complaints. “They just said that you were hurt,” he said, “so Aunt Annie made sure we all got to come here.”

Mikasa picked up Marco, whom she bounced on her lap. “The doctor readjusted your joints, but you will still be sore for up to a week, he thinks,” she said.

Jean sighed. The soreness he could deal with, but the broken bones were his main problem. Did the doctor offer to lend them a wheelchair so that he didn’t have to hurt his feet anymore with crutches or have to stay in bed while he healed? He looked around and saw that they were in his bedroom, having taken him home right from the hospital. How long was he unconscious?

Then the door opened, and Connie led the Arlets into the room. Baby Arlet sucked her thumb in Annie’s arms, but her older brothers flung their arms over the foot of the bed. “Uncle Jean, guess what he did?” whispered Leonhart, who waved a piece of paper. 

“We made you a card,” hissed his older brother, who bounced on his feet. “We hope you get well soon and can go outside with us for picnics in the park.”

“Thank you, boys,” said Jean. 

Eventually, Mikasa sent her children into the kitchen to surprise Dada with a special dinner, and then asked Connie and the Arlets to please supervise so no fights would break out over something silly. Her friends ushered the Arlet boys out of the room, leaving her alone with her husband. She helped him sit up, removed the loose tunic as gently as she could, and pulled from behind him a bowl full of water and a blue cloth. 

Jean smirked. “Is this really why you asked the children to surprise us with dinner–to get a good look?”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “I can see it every night, when the children go to bed, and I would never tire of it.” She wiped down his arms and collarbone, cleaned the cloth, and focused on his midsection. He watched his wife’s delicate arm move over his skin in small circles. She shifted behind him only to wipe his bare back and the back of his neck. He heard her set aside the bowl and felt her soft lips on his shoulder blade. Her kiss on the back of his neck was harder, as were the pecks going down his backbone. 

“You know that you can cry if you need to,” he reminded her. He knew her long enough that he knew when she had the urge. 

“Not until the children go to bed,” she whispered. After she kissed both halves of his wide, muscular chest, she moved on to each tied joint and then his lips. She carefully separated her legs over his lap, careful not to touch his aching hips, and held his face in both hands so that he wouldn’t stop kissing her. 

Jean wished that his elbows and shoulders were not dislocated because he desperately wanted to pull his wife closer to him in his arms and tug on her long hair. The kissing did not last as long as he would have wanted; she broke away after hearing two knocks on the door, followed by, “Dada! Can we come on? We have dinner ready!”

Eren, Sasha, and Marco together cooked for Dada an omelet with potato chunks rather than rice, diced zucchini with sauce that Dada liked, and a chicken thigh. It smelled quite appetizing. The three took turns feeding Dada, who was grateful that the Yeagerists didn’t dislocate his jaw, and made sure that he ate every bite, “including the gross potatoes,” Sasha added with her nose wrinkled. Mikasa did not send them back to wash the dishes until forty minutes after Dada finished eating, but Marco said that Connie and the Arlets were already at the sink so he, Sasha, and Eren could spend more time with their father. The next four hours flew by, and everyone wished Jean a good night and easy sleep.

Eren, Sasha, and Marco fell asleep around their father, but Mikasa was too tired and lazy to pick them up and move them into a different bed. She curled up to her husband’s chest and lured herself asleep to the sound of his beating heart.

It seemed so long ago that she dreamt of Eren and herself isolating themselves in a cabin to live out the remainder of his life. Looking back, she realized that she wasn’t that selfish; she just wanted to spend as much time with the one family member she had left and let him know how much she cared.

At this point, she instead dreamt that she had a terminal illness and had even less than four years of life left. Unlike what she would have wanted for her friend, she would have preferred to stay in the apartment. She would have had multiple gatherings with her fellow cadet graduates, tasted everything on the menu at Nicolo’s restaurant and listened to what he knew about food from different countries and cultures, researched her heritage with her children, made love to her husband like she could not believe, and opted to see more of the world. Then she would peacefully pass away with no one but her husband and three children at her side to remind her that she fought for and lived a great life.

When she woke up the next morning and looked at the family that she helped build, she assumed that her mother and father would have been proud of where she ended up and the life she created after losing everything at that point. 

The family spent the day flipping through Jean’s filled sketchbooks as far back as when he was newly married. The children were fascinated to see how much detail their father put into artwork that resembled photographs before more Eldians took to photography. Of course, their apartment had photographs of their growing family, but Sasha and her brothers already could not imagine a life without that technology, let alone to capture intimate moments of her parents admiring newborn Eren or Sasha herself kissing baby Marco’s cheek. Only after the three (reluctantly) went to sleep in a different room did the couple flip through some of the more private sketches, such as Mikasa nursing their babies and her various body parts two days before she gave birth to Eren, her hands over where the doctor said that the fetus’s feet and head were at that point.

Then she flipped back pages to a personal favorite, which turned out to be the morning after Sasha was conceived. Jean sketched his wife, under the blanket, holding up a camera to take a picture of her husband at the foot of their bed and sketching her as he saw her. She even clipped the photograph of Jean to the page as a reminder of the “simpler time” when they were experimenting with unfamiliar technologies that would definitely shape the following generations. Neither bothered to dress; they covered themselves with their shared blanket.

“An innocent time, it seemed like,” he thought out loud. 

“No,” she said with a smile. “It was just one step further into our lives together, as we were rebuilding.” She leaned her head against his arm and admired how he drew her fingers clutching the camera. “It’s something that you and I can look back on with fondness.”

When Jean turned his head to meet her eyes, she propped herself up on her elbow. “Do you remember how you used to say, ‘I’m not him’, ‘It’s not who I am’?” She took a deep breath and continued: “I…I am glad you are not. I was always happy that you are a different person.”

Jean blinked, stunned. Mikasa reached forward and stroked his cheek. “The love I felt for him was different. And…I always will love and miss him, but I realized…” She took a deep breath and swallowed. “The love I have for you, I could never have with him.”

“I understand what you’re saying,” he said. “Mika, understand this–I never wanted to be him anyway, because I knew that he had flaws that were not healthy for any of us in the Corps. You know what he planned to do, and you allowed yourself to admit that you disagreed with it. That is a brave thing.” He motioned for her to move her head to his face, and he kissed her cheek. “I probably would have stopped feeling anything for you but anger if you did not bother to fight back. I know that you’ll carry this feeling for the rest of your life, but think of it like this: If you never did make that decision to kill him and stop the massacre of thousands of more people, you would have spent the rest of your life and even your dying moments regretting it.”

That stopped her crying, and Jean was tired but wanted to continue. “You saved thousands of other lives, my love, just by you admitting that you couldn’t allow your love to continue like that. And…” As he smiled, tears filled his eyes. “Our children–our three babies–they would not exist.”

Mikasa wiped her face and nodded in agreement. “True,” she said, “and I hope that Sasha and the boys will learn that story one day, and learn something from it.”

“They will,” Jean promised. “I know they will. That’s why we visit the grave every year–so they learn something every time, about doing what’s right, and how to grow up: Move on, but don’t forget.”

“I know,” his wife smiled. “I love you.”

Jean echoed her and deeply kissed her. Then she lied on her side, cuddled up to him as best as she could, and repeated that mantra in her mind so she could one day tell the three people for whom her life was centered: Move on, but don’t forget. Move on, but don’t forget.

***

So many things happened, wonderful and terrible. Life truly went on, and more than fifty years had passed since she made that fateful decision to end her best friend’s life. Had he lived, he would indeed have been amazed with how unrecognizable their home was.

The couple led the way to the tree, followed by Sasha, Marco, and, on behalf of her absent husband, Eren’s wife, all of whom brought their children with them while Sasha’s and Marco’s spouses waited by the cars. 

Jean still supported her after she stepped off her wheelchair and towards her friend’s final resting place. True to his word, he loved her the older and grayer she became; true to her word, she felt just as attracted to him as when they pledged their lives together.

Mikasa still felt the same every time she saw the headstone. It was always nice to stand here and pay her respects to her childhood friend. At that point in her life, he had been her entire world; now, her entire world was right behind her but also preparing for her departure within the next few years or the next decade. This time, it was bittersweet to think that one day, she would join him, reunite with her own parents, and the fallen comrades. She just knew that everyone in her family would still come to the burial grounds, and she wouldn’t change that as long as they were still able to live long lives as she had.