#it's insane how her brain works like. she's so incredibly smart and especialli people-smart?? like! i could never do what she did no matter
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perilegs · 1 year ago
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some times i feel like i'll never be loved as much as when someone stroked my hair and made me a snack when i was a kid, but then i look at an almost 30 hour playlist a friend hand picked for me and there's not a single song i skip
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whiskeyswifty · 1 year ago
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Tell us how your renaissance tour concert was!!
omggggggg absolutely SPECTACULAR. I've seen bey a few times, mrs. carter and the formation tour, and every time has been better than the last but this...... this was on another level. the crowd was like a live wire, totally jam packed metlife stadium (we did not win the on mute award though because new yorkers are are STUPID. my hometown of DC won though i'm proud to say :)) Every single minute of it, was expertly paced, even down to starting with ballads which is kind of an insane move??? She sang like idk 4-5 ballads to open the show and honestly that was a very smart choice. Most people leave slower stuff for the end, but Bey's show is also 3.5 hours so by hour 3.... yeah you're already tired so a slow song is NOT the move. Also, to open with her voice just BOOMING like that, absolutely stunning and her riffs!!! her adlibs!!! as the sun sets!!!! MY GODDDDDDDD it's life changing to hear her live. I cannot recommend it enough, especially when she sings ballads. the piano player was also this hot woman that my gf and i were like oh???? kiss???? they didn't but bey sat ON the piano for most of the ballads so i'll settle for that.
then the show really started and it was PHENOMENAL!!!!! mind blowing what she did with some of the robot arms and the set pieces she had. There was this one part where the robot arms "painted" stained glass onto her and the dancers outfits???? it was't actually painting it, but I HAVE NO IDEA HOW THEY DID IT???? The show was so high energy, so joyful, and also so funny??? i haven't laughed that hard at a fucking stadium tour show like.... ever?? like not even her banter, which she doesn't do much of, just that the show had BITS. America has a problem has the famous news desk that i'm sure you've seen, which says KNTY News.... cunty news..... SCREAM. she also comes out in this stupid ass bee helmet that's sooooooo funny to see on her. There's one part where a giant sliver vertical mattress is brought out seamlessly, pillows and all, and they wrap her in it like in a split second and SHE PRETENDS TO TAKE A NAP STANDING UP!!!! FOR NO REASON. IN BETWEEN SONGS. she's just having sooo much fun, making such silly faces, saying silly shit. it really felt like a huge party and was just the most joyous and cathartic show i've ever been a part of. not a single second where you wanted to sit down or stop dancing. les twins were SOO GOOD and this one part at the end of america has a problem they got up on huge poles and were like swinging over the audience?? some real cirque du soleil shit. and the end of heated live... screaming with 65k people.... THAT is gay culture. AND IN THE END SHE RIDES ON A GIANT BEDAZZLED HORSE. IN THE AIR. The stage as well was really cool, how they used the visuals to transform it into sets and the giant circle in the middle, which YES turned into a cyborg's open vagina because why not??? just.... unreal. god i could gush about it forever, if you can manage to get tickets, go see it. it's dazzling and unreal and the production value, the spectacle of it all, the pacing and the energy, not to mention Beyoncé is the single greatest singer/performer currently living and she's incredible to behold. the voice, the choreo, the art direction of it all, just beyond compare.
i have to take a minute to just say..... the interludes...... oh fucking BITCH they were soooooooooooooooooo galaxy brain genius. works of art!!! every single one!!!! like short films!!!!! some of them were abstract and some of them were actual footage. There's one part where cyborg beyonce taps the camera lens and it's a VERY cool moment and was the one on the NY exclusive merch. one was a short film of the ballroom scene from the 80s/90s, i'd venture to guess, and i got so emotional seeing all of those queer people back then, most of them black and brown, full of joy and life. to spotlight them during this show like that was so beautiful, celebrate them now in front of all those people and see that despite the horrors our community has always faced, they always found joy and happiness, i couldn't handle it i got teary. Immediately afterwards they went into the Pure/honey section where the dancers did the ballroom portion and HONEY BALENCIAGA CAME OUT EVEN THO SHE WAS INJURED THATS A HOMETOWN GWORL. anyway i had a fucking phenomenal time if you couldn't tell. there's an amazing photo my best friend took of me and my gf where i'm just standing there gobsmacked, jaw on the floor, and my gf is a blur in the background cuz she didn't stop dancing the whole night. one for the ages!
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loveanoutcast · 4 years ago
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ok but I read games and I am ADDICTED and I just thought I could maybe request something like-
Eren meeting the reader through a simple comment and a timeskip to them being v close until they eventually end up in a fight because reader was ranting to eren about how perfect their crush (who is actually eren) is and him just exploding and them getting into a fight until the reader eventually goes "that person is you, dumbass!" Or smth like that and from there it all just turns into a lot of kisses and smut👀
only if you're comfy/in the mood of writing smth like this tho! just had this random thought last night and thought I'd request a little erenxfembodiedreader
Anyway have a nice day, night, afternoon, morning, you're amazing :D
Oh my gosh, this is my first request ever and I am so incredibly excited to write this and I really hope I did good in writing something you would want. Thank you so much for submitting this request, please feel free to send more! I love writing fanfics of any aot character and will do my absolute best to embody them in these. Sorry for the long wait, when I say the last chapter had me all the way FUCK3D up. EreMika is canon and I haven't been able to stop saying "He loved her, oh my god he loved her" in that "and they were roommates" vine way because that's my coping mechanism and it's cheaper than therapy. Anyway, I give you-
"Assumptions."
Pairing: Eren Yeager x Fem!reader
TW: nsfw, smut, angst, jealously, swearing, yelling, a bit of fluff, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink, a bit of voyeurism, a bit of sexism, eren being denser than a rock, Levi having health issues because he's old
Other: aot world if the mess of season four never happened and eren didn't fall to sad bitch hours, reader is a regular girl with family issues, all characters are over 18, Erwin never died and Floch never went insane
It wasn't that Eren hated going into town, but he wasn't exactly used to going to town alone. He always had Mikasa and Armin flanking either side of him but since the discovery of the world outside the walls and the decreased threat of titans, scouts were needed more than ever in the recovery of the lost districts. Mikasa was the second strongest soldier alive and Armin was expected to take after Erwin. Eren was useful when it came to being the one who possessed the attack and founder titan, but lately there was no big threats that required his titan abilities.
That didn't stop Hange from poking him, nor did it stop Captain Levi from keeping him busy with even the most minimalist of tasks. Today was no different and when the options were given to him and Jean, who was still asleep in his bunker, on shoveling horse shit or going into town to stock up on supplies and check to ensure all market suppliers weren't being capitalist pigs to the local vendors, Eren all but hauled ass through the door, hand swiping the grocery list off the table and yelling, "Good luck Jean-boy!"
Everything seemed to be going just fine, none of the local vendors had any troubles and most seemed happier with the drastic improvements of the living situations for Eldians. The fear of being eaten any day now or losing a loved one to war had seemed to be the driving force that had led to problems before. Some people recognized Eren, but no one seemed to want to approach him. He had had encounters with people who thought of him as a god, but he usually ignored them or kept a level-headed composure. Despite knowing that he had a power no one else had, outside of being a titan-shifter, Eren didn't really know what he had to offer. Armin was smart, Mikasa was strong, and he couldn't exactly claim titan-shifter seeing that Armin was also the colossal and Ymir had been the jaw.
He let out a sigh, kicking a rock in his path and silently yearning for something beyond his knowledge. Despite knowing that he was never really alone, he felt lonely a lot of the time. He had never given much thought to settling down, with the clock running out on him he often thought what was even the point? He wasn't sure if he wanted to keep being a soldier or if he wanted to go back home one day, he didn't really try to dwell on the future, content with being in the present and having Mikasa always on the verge of tears when she was reminded that he would one day die, didn't really give him room to think of much else.
You weren't oblivious to the tales and rumors that went around the town about the scouts and their secret weapon in the form of a shapeshifting man and how him and his comrades were able to plug the hole in the wall of a district your family had come from long ago. Your father had long since escaped the walls of Maria before it fell, he made an honest living being a construction man, and your mother was a nurse who happened to catch his eye when he had a roofing accident. They built a life for themselves within Wall Rose. You weren't the richest family, nor did you have a name that was well known. Nonetheless, you were all hard working. Your brothers worked for the respect they got, one being a weapon maker and the other being a bar keeper was enough for the part of town you were in. Even their wives did well for themselves in being a seamstress and bar waitress. As the youngest, you were loved and cared for. You weren't the most beautiful girl in town, but you turned heads nonetheless, well until one of your brothers decided to glare or promptly hit whoever doted on you too long for their liking.
The people who knew you, thought you were trouble. Mostly the elders spewed of you and your ways of thinking being a disgrace to everything Eldians stood for and bringing only shame to your gender, you were a woman ahead of her time and they couldn't stand it. Like your mother you had entered the medical field, but even when you were small you claimed you would be a doctor one day. You shadowed and worked under the supervision of the town's doctors. Many amused at your antics, some who didn't care about you being a girl and just grateful to leave such responsibility on someone who was genuine in the intent, and others not caring one way or another and not willing to hear your screeching pleads to observe what they did. Your mom had spoken with you more than once about settling with being a doctor's aide, today being no different and you let out a sigh as you looked to your mother's pained expression.
"I just don't understand why you insist on making your life so difficult? It was bad enough when you proudly exclaimed your goals in front of the entire church, but now this?"
You could only look away, looking towards the fields where you saw your third brother grooming the horses. You hadn't said anything bad, you were approached with a job offer that would give you the title and respect you had been desperately craving, and it would bring greater honor to your family...or so you thought before your mother reacted the opposite in which you hoped.
"I will not have any daughter of mine chasing dreams and fantasies off in some other place where no one can protect you. This is a suicide mission and I for one will not stand by and watch you march forward to your downfall."
Your father stood behind your mother, not really saying anything and not even looking at you. You felt especially bad for the commander and captain who stood on either side of you and were bearing witness to the absurd exchange between your family.
"Mrs. Y/L/N, you have to know that if Y/N were to accept this offer, she would never be in the front lines. We have bases located all throughout the walls and she would do what she did best and be our primary doctor." Commander Erwin spoke with such calm words, his demeanor kind and patient.
"So you expect me to let her run off with a bunch of men whose brains are broken from the wars they fought and not worry? She is not even married!"
You grit your teeth so hard upon hearing that, you were sick of the standards put forth on you since your birth. You were sick of the expectations you were in no hurry to reach and you were especially tired of the lack of faith your family had in you to be independent and strong. Your fists clenched and you felt a steady gaze on you.
"I'm not an expert or anything on parenting, nor will I act as if I am, but instead of yelling at her, why don't you try asking your daughter what she wants to do?" You didn't silence the gasp you released, looking at Captain Levi in confusion and admiration.
All eyes turned to you, your mother crossing her arms as if asking you to try and defy her. Erwin looked a bit expectedly and Levi looking indifferent to the entire conversation. It was your father who beat you to it before you could even open your mouth to answer.
"You have a choice, my daughter. If you choose to stay, you'll make your mother and brothers happy. You can continue to help people but you will never be acknowledged as a doctor...but you'll have your family. Or you can choose to leave and live your life to your own accord, but you will lose the respect of the town and your mother will never speak to you again. Are you willing to put yourself above your family?" You expected this from your father, always neutral and never judgmental, what he was saying was true after all. Were you willing to lose your family over your dreams? Would you be able to survive on your own with only the scouts to rely on?
Your head was hurting and your frustration only grew when your brothers decided to come home and after your mother wailing at them about your plans to leave, they were quick to overwhelm you with their own opinions. The commander and captain apologized but they had to leave and return to headquarters.
"Take your time on making your decision. We will come back in a few days for your answer." Commander Erwin told you, giving you a smile as he continued, "I know its a lot to ask you to choose us over your flesh and blood, but if you do. You have my promise that we will protect you, and we may never be able to fully replace your family in your heart, but the scouts will be a family on its own for you."
"Tch," Captain Levi shook his head, "Look brat, you will see and do things that you won't always like. People will die no matter how hard you try to save them, but call Erwin and Hange delusional--they see something in you. Don't walk into this half-assed, if you choose to be our doctor and you choose to take on the title and everything it carries with it, you have to dedicate your heart."
You only nodded. Two days had passed as you walked through the market, the small basket in your hands carried apples and some citrus fruits. Your mother still wasn't talking to you and your brothers seemingly assumed you wouldn't be leaving, only your father knew how frantic your mind was, and one morning he admitted that he would be delighted to have at least one of his children carry the family name on a military standing. So you had his support.
You even spoke to the animal doctor you had been shadowing for the past few weeks, his eyebrows had rose in an impressed matter and he promptly asked when you would be leaving.
"I haven't made a decision, yet." You said.
"You would be an idiot not to take it." Was all he replied before asking you to give the cattle their medicine.
Idiot, huh? You wondered. You knew deep down he was right. Your mind continued to play in endless loops of thought before you heard a commotion to your right. Turning your head you saw a group of men, their huddling seemed a bit more frantic and it was not until one of them yelled that you noticed one man in particular on his knees.
"Help! Someone call a doctor!"
The man on the floor was bleeding rather profusely and you didn't have time to question what happened before you quickly made way.
"Sir, let me see."
"Hey! Woman don't touch him!"
"Make yourself useful and go get a doctor! What the hell do you think you're doing!"
"I am a doctor." You calmly said, inspecting the gash on his side and seeing the edge of what appeared to be a broken pipe sticking out from the building behind them. The drips if bloods glistening in the sun only confirmed what you thought.
"We were-" The injured man rasped out, "Just horsing around."
"It's okay." You reassured, grabbing a roll of gauze and stack of medical napkins you always kept in your basket. You apologized before applying pressure to the wound, and you heard the patter of rushing feet.
"A doctor is on his way! A real one!" One of the men sneered, and you did your best not to roll your eyes and focus on stopping the bleeding. You asked the man to lie on his back and he surprisingly complied, he didn't seem to care about you being a girl and only seemed thankful to not be alone and scared.
"Do you hear that? Move before you kill him!" The first man hollered, the hand on your shoulder causing you to sharply inhale.
"Excuse me for one moment." You told the man, and you were quick as you hand shot up to grip the disrespectful ass by his wrist and twist it in one fluid motion, you wasted no time in using the building wall as leverage, quickly running up and using his weight to stabilize yourself before you roundhouse kicked him so hard it sent both of you flying back. You landed on one foot, balancing yourself before going back to the patient.
You couldn't deny how satisfying it was to hear the impact, or the groan of pain coming from him. Your eyes met the others.
"If any of you touch me, I'll do exactly what I did to your buddy there, but ten times worse. Now shut the hell up and let me save this man."
Eyes widely stared at you as you resumed caring for the injured, a few minutes passed by the time the doctor got there.
"Oh!" His eyebrows rose, "Hello Y/N, didn't expect to see you here. If I would have known, I wouldn't have left the hospital on its own."
"Hi Dr. Goodwin," You looked up, two fingers on the injured man's wrist and the other held up four fingers from your counting. You blushed slightly from his confidence in you and you noticed the men who bullied you all sport faces of confusion.
"His pulse is stable. I wrapped the wound tightly, but he needs stitches."
"Thank you, miss." The injured man grabbed your hand and you smiled in return.
"Don't mention it."
"Actually, it's Dr. Y/L/N." Dr. Goodwin said, seeing your eyes widen and the smile he gave only made your heart swell that much more.
The doctor nodded, thanking you before asking his helpers to load him to the small gurney they brought. He could only thank you briefly before you waved them off. The other guys had stayed back, eyes wide in disbelief that the doctor not only recognized you, but acknowledged your work.
"Are you a nurse or something?"
"Are you morons deaf? Did you not hear Dr. Goodwin? I'm a doctor too."
The leader seemed to recover from the kick you gave him earlier as his lip curled in an ugly matter, "What kind of sick joke is that? No such thing as a woman doctor."
"Obviously there is if I'm standing right in front of you. Or did my kick knock a few more scews loose?"
Eren was walking buy, noticing the commotion from afar and as a soldier, his instincts to provide help in dire situations kicked in. He elbowed his way to the front. Seeing you standing defiantly in front of five tall muscular men. He stepped forward as the main leader got in your face, but when you shifted your foot, he seemed to coil back. Eren noticed a giant welt on one side of his face and wondered how the hell he got such an ugly bruise. It didn't stop their onslaught.
"Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you could do whatever the fuck you want?"
"Because in this world, I'm free to do whatever the fuck I please." Eren watched as your eyes narrowed in further defiance, the smile on your face sickeningly sweet and all he could think about was how he had never seen such a woman.
You hadn't even noticed the audience that gathered, you side stepped the group of men, going as far as waving a goodbye with a breathy giggle, you picked up your basket. You had a small hop to your step and despite not caring to even spare a glance to the onlookers, your eyes met a pair of pretty green ones. The prominent bone structure made you think, "Wow."
However, the tall muscular body you did a once over on had you follow that thought with, "Oh damn."
Eren seemed dumbfounded, your obviousness in checking him out made him flush. He had never felt self-conscious over his body. He knew even before he hit puberty that he would do well to grow muscles and abs, the necessary type of figure to have if one were to be a soldier of the scouts. He knew it was also something some females found attractive in the opposite sex but it's not like he ever had time to date much less dwell on what girls liked. Seeing the way you looked at him though, he couldn't deny that he silently hoped for your approval.
When you finally met his eyes once more, you had him floored when he saw you drop a wink at him.
The crowd murmuring as they watched you go made his own eyebrows furrow in confusion. He stepped to one of the members and demanded an explanation.
"Honestly, the little lady was crazy! She came in here claiming to be a doctor and helped patch up a guy who got cut by the pipe over there. Instead of waiting for a real doctor, she made a whole fuss."
"Where's the guy?"
"Dr. Goodwin picked him up. That doctor is mad too, he also said she was a doctor, but that's ridiculous. No woman can be a doctor. That's so many levels of wrong."
Eren felt the urge to punch the man in the mouth, but one glance at the ugly bruise his friend sported reminded him,
"What happened to your face?"
The leader grumbled a bunch of profanities, "That little bitch. I tried to get her off before she messed the guy up anymore and she kicked me."
"In your face?" Eren sounded impressed, and he was when he received a nod of confirmation.
He looked to the direction which you disappeared in and said fine words to the group, "Whether you men like it or not. The world is changing, everyone is free to be who they want. If women can join the military no problem, they can be doctors too."
He saluted before rushing off, not hearing the mutters of annoyance from the men. In all honestly, Eren had no clue on what he was doing.
You were scrubbing off the blood from under your fingernails near a fountain when you hear the shuffle of feet from behind you. You silently hoped it wasn't any of those morons asking for more trouble, but you were pleasantly surprised when your eyes met a pair of green ones from before.
"I'm Eren." You smiled at him, nodding and your smile turned quirked when he stuttered in, "Yeager. Eren Yeager."
Hmm, you had thought, His name suits him. You studied his demeanor, not missing the gear strapped to either sides of his hips or the green hood covering his shoulders. You knew immediately that he was a scout and you wondered if he knew Captain Levi. Before you got the courage to ask him, he beat you to it.
"What did you mean by what you said earlier? Do you really think that? That we're all free to do anything we want here?"
You smiled as you nodded, walking towards a vendors stand and Eren fell into step beside you, you felt nervous around him, but also safe with his company. He watched you as you picked up another apple to inspect.
"We have laws and rules though...so we're not technically all the way free?"
"I'm free to be me, just as you are free to be you...Eren...Yeager."
It was the way the sun hit your face in that moment, highlighting your strong cheekbones and giving a special glint in your eyes that made Eren want to hear your thoughts more. He spent the rest of the day asking you questions, never satisfied with the small responses you gave him and he even walked you home. The mean glare from your mother confused him beyond belief and it was your father's words that made you gasp in surprise that night.
"He's the titan shifter, the one who helped plug up wall Rose."
Your face had turned red in embarrassment, you were talking so casually to a literal titan and you even flirted with him. He even held your basket the entire trip to your house and you didn't even consider how informal you acted with your skirt. You had hitched one of them up your thigh to get better footing and hadn't missed the way Eren blushed at seeing so much skin. You knew the girls in the scouts wore pants, but even then they kept covered.
You were certain Eren wanted nothing else to do with a girl who held little to no morals, but you were caught by pleasant surprise when you saw him with Erwin and Levi the next day in town.
His eyes had immediately found yours and you didn't miss the blush on his cheeks as he gave you a small wave. You couldn't but laugh when Captain Levi suddenly kicked him.
"Who's got you turning red brat?"
"Uh-it's nothing, captain."
He didn't look convinced as you gathered the courage to approach. Erwin acknowledged your presence which Eren was grateful for, but his eyebrows still came down in confusion on how the commander knew your name.
"Y/N!" Erwin gave a polite smile which you returned, "So great to see you. We were actually just about to stop by your house."
"Really? What a coincidence, I was hoping to stop by headquarters today as well." Your smile was bright, and by the way the air around you seemed cheerful, Erwin returned your energy.
"Bearing good news I hope?" He still hesitantly asked.
You nodded as you laughed, "I would love to accept the offer if it still stands."
"Of course it does," Captain Levi scoffed, his arms were folded across his chest. You noted for the first time the soft grey color of his eyes and despite the deep scowl he was currently showing, he had chubby cheeks that made you want to squish, "We wouldn't be coming all this way for nothing."
"I thought we were coming to collect a new scout, Captain Levi." Eren asked, you felt yourself blush in realization that he had no clue it was actually you they were referring to.
"We are," Levi grabbed you by your arm and yanked you towards him as he pointed at you while looking at Eren like he was an idiot, "Meet the scout's new doctor. Dr. Y/L/N meet Eren-"
"Yeager." You finished, smiling towards Eren, "We've met."
Erwin and Levi exchanged looks as they watched you and Eren smiled at each other like a pair of idiots, the realization dawning over them and Erwin couldn't fight the smirk that crossed his face. Small world, he thought.
Six months had passed since the first fateful encounter you had with Eren. You had long since moved out of your home and besides the occasional secret letter from your father, you hadn't heard nor seen the rest of your family since your decision to become a doctor for the scouts.
It was a transition to go through as you lost one family and gained a new one, but everyone was so accepting and welcoming. The girls welcomed you with open arms, most notably was Sasha whose habit of eating everything and anything brought her to the infirmary on more than one occasion, Connie usually followed right behind her with a minor injury resulting from his carelessness. You had met Floch when he brought Jean in from a sparring session gone wrong and he immediately took a liking to you. Your level-headedness was like a breath of fresh air to him as he was constantly sorrounded by people he thought were idiots. Jean liked your confidence (The fact that you were easy on the eyes, didn't hurt either), Mikasa respected the way you didn't hesitate to put people in their place, and Armin admired that despite your obvious toughness, you were a kind and patient doctor who never turned anyone away. You were diligent and hard-working, yet your smile was always able to uplift any sour mood and you always put your best foot forward. The one time he had puked all over your hospital floor from eating too much undercooked meat was embarrassing for him, he thought for sure you were going to be angry and call him an idiot. Instead, you took his temperature, put a cold cloth on his head (despite his titan status guaranteeing a speedy recovery), and started a healthier diet plan for him. Armin was scheduled a weekly checkup with you, partly to ensure he was listening and partly for you to study him a bit more. Your research on the titan's ability to regenerate and recover from even the worst injuries was fascinating for you, you hoped to isolate the genes and figure out a way to maybe trigger it in regular Eldians without setting off the titan ability, the fact that Eren made it a habit to accompany Armin didn't hurt either.
Eren had grown attached to you, whenever he wasn't busy or in need of a place to hide from Captain Levi's wrath or Hange's insistence to poke and prod him, he would be hanging out around you or in your office. At one point you had to hide him under your desk when Commander Erwin stopped by to hold a meeting with you about providing first aid training to the scouts for excursions. You were always welcomed to accompany them outside the walls, but your work was enough to make you stay. You recalled the way Eren was pressed against your legs, the feel of his hands steadying himself on your calves and when your skirt had shifted up when you reached for one of the records, you felt Eren brush his fingertips along the muscle. You had stammered the rest of the meeting through and smacked him afterwards for putting you in such a compromising position. You were blushing furiously at the way he gave such a boyish grin and even that night while he walked you to your small cottage, he had a satisfied smile in place.
You always knew you liked Eren, you were also hopeful that the feeling was mutual. The both of you had grown close over the course of your stay, as the head doctor you were given your own living quarters, not too far from headquarters but not so close to the city that you would be given a hard time. Your cottage was fair in size and with the amount of income you were receiving, you were quick to furnish and decorate it to your liking. Eren had even helped by adding his own touches to the interior. The times you would go to the city with him was always met with many curious stares. Your age and gender made many turn heads when you walked in, the fact that you were the youngest and by far prettiest doctor the scouts had ever had made people naturally gravitate to you. Your ability to make friends quickly also made it that almost every weekend you were entertaining guests at your house. Sometimes it would be dinner with Sasha, Niccolo, and Connie. Other times you would be knitting and embroidering with Mikasa and Armin, there was even game nights with everyone until Jean and Eren became too competitive with one another. Other times when the higher ups had meetings (All of which you had to attend since you technically held an officer position within the military branch) you would offer your house where you all shared cups of tea and your famous baked goods. You had even seen Captain Levi grab seconds on your sugar cookies.
It was the times when Eren would swing by alone that caused your heart to flutter, he would walk you home almost every night now. At first he would find the poorest excuses to see you like needing a bandaid for his wrist from the biting (even though by the time you gave him the gauze it would be healed over completely) or try to "casually" be around the area when you would get out at three in the morning. Eventually your amusement turned to you asking him to walk you home every night under the guise that you were afraid of being targeted or hurt, even though everyone had seen you body-slam Reiner the one time he tried to hit on you when you were stitching up his eyebrow from an ugly gash. Nonetheless, Eren accepted. You would invite him in for tea every time and he would even bring you lunch on days he failed to see you in the cafeteria. It seemed like everyone under the sun knew about you and Eren's crushes on one another, so it was also a pain in the ass that neither of you had yet to make a move on one another. Even Erwin had assumed you two were together the one morning he stopped by your house on your day off to ask for your aid for a soldier who had broken their arm from a training exercise, his eyes had grown wide upon seeing you open the door in only your nightgown, you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you invited him in for breakfast.
Upon walking in, he immediately saw Eren exiting your bathroom in his casual jeans, his hair was wet and sticking up from the steam of the shower. Eren wasn't wearing a shirt and before Erwin could excuse himself completely you quickly explained how you hadn't wanted him to walk outside so late so he slept on your couch. You were washing his clothes and had left them out to dry and Erwin could only nod and stop himself from suggesting for Eren to bring spare clothes to yours, remembering that it wasn't his place to push or even encourage his team's doctor and titan-shifter to date even though by the way he saw you put jelly on Eren's toast while he made your cup of tea with three sugars was enough for him to almost just order the two of you to date. Instead, he gave a long rant to Levi, wondering aloud whether Eren was either oblivious to your affections or just an idiot, Levi only replied with, "Did you happen to bring any of the toast she made?"...he did and Levi later on answered, "He's just an idiot." while licking the excess jelly off his fingers.
It was another day at headquarters, the mid-summer day was hot and since the flow of traffic had been slow inside the infirmary, you found yourself mostly in the officer's lounge. You had opted to wear a long sleeve empire waist dress, the top had ruffles along your collar and the soft pink of the dress complimented your skin tone. It fell around mid-thigh and the black shoes you wore with them completed your overall look. Eren had stared at your bare legs for a while until he noted your haircut. You had only cut off the ends but your heart did a flip as you blushed from him noticing. You had been chatting with Hange about your research while Moblit spoke to Eren about the new set of routes to be taken during their next trip beyond the walls when Captain Levi walked in. Hange waved him over and he fell easily beside you.
"Hey." His arm brushing against yours and you hummed in response, leaning a bit towards him which didn't go unnoticed by Eren.
"Levi, did you take your medicine this morning?" About two weeks ago you had caught the captain asleep at his desk for the fourth time. You knew he overworked himself and refused to sleep in his bed no matter how many therapeutic pillows you got him, but while he was out like a light you decided to check his blood pressure, only to find it alarmingly high. You figured the amount of stress and cups of caffeinated tea were to blame. Levi kept in good shape, but considering his age and the fact that he never even considers laughing, you prescribed him medications to be take every morning and cut him off from his usual tea leaves. The former was easier to push as the calcium and magnesium capsules were easy to swallow, it was getting rid of all the tins in his desk that made him a bit unbearable to the new recruits.
He let out an annoyed grunt as he nodded. Your smile was soft as you put an encouraging hand on his arm and Eren was officially not listening to Moblit anymore.
"Thanks for sticking to your diet, Captain Levi. As a token of my appreciation, I got you these." You didn't let him reply, quick to act as always as you reached into the small basket you had brought and grabbed his hand to put the gray tin of loose leaves that you took out in his palm.
As usual, the captain was unfazed by your lack of appreciation for personal space. The past few weeks had done well to teach him how despite being yelled at, threatened, and even outright ignored at times, your cheeriness was impossible to diminish and you did whatever the heck you wanted even when it was at times impulsive.
"What is it?" He looked between you and the tin, the slight sneer on his upper lip making you release a giggle before you tapped the bow you tied on it.
"It's tea leaves." He raised a slim eyebrow which made you roll your eyes, "Decaffeinated tea."
"Let me guess, it tastes like shit." His eyes flickered to the purple bow, "Or it'll make me shit."
You laughed, you upper body leaning on his as you attempted to catch your breath. The joke wasn't that funny but the face he made was. You giggled as you shook your head and Hange watched in bemusement as you elaborated,
"It's the tea I always serve and judging by the three cups you had last time, I'm positive you'll like it."
Levi let out a nod, he hadn't even noticed that the tea you served had no caffeine but the heavy notes of honey in it probably explained its sweetness. He gave a quiet thank you before his scowl returned,
"So that's why I was on the crapper all night after the last meeting."
"With a potty mouth like that, it's not wonder you don't have a girlfriend." You deadpanned.
"I feel bad for the poor bastard who falls in love with you."
You let out a small tsk, smiling at him and hoping Eren heard as you said, "Well that depends if he admits he feels the same way."
Captain Levi quirked an eyebrow at you, his eyes knowing and you blushed under his stare. Your fingers fiddling behind your back and Eren hated the way Levi suddenly chuckled at you. His smile was a rarity and to have him giving it to you only meant one thing to Eren; the captain liked you.
"So there is someone you like? Who's the poor brat?"
When you were about to make another snide remark, Hange cut in and excused herself and Moblit.
"As fascinating as this is, there's a captured titan waiting my arrival and if I don't get to use this research Dr. Y/L/N just gave me before nightfall, I will lose my mind."
"I hadn't heard of us ever finding it to begin with." Levi sighed, taking a lock of your hair between his fingers and letting the curl bounce back before he excused himself to tag along with them.
"Someone's got to make sure four eyes doesn't get killed."
"That's why Moblit is going with her." You noted.
"And who do you think will make sure Moblit doesn't get killed?" He smiled once more, "Laters doc."
You waved goodbye to the three, the door clicking behind them and you turned to see Eren with his arms crossed. He was pouting like a child and you wondered what his deal was. You figured with your earlier comment, he would be over the moon to hear you hinting at liking him. You skipped up to him, getting on the tips of your toes as you poked his cheek.
"What's the matter? You look like a scolded child."
"Nothing." He muttered, looking away as his jaw clenched and you only poked him once more.
"Liar." You called him out, "Talk to me."
"You didn't answer Captain Levi's question."
You were sure that there was a giant question mark on top of your head, the gear in your mind shifting as you tried to recall what the captain asked before your mouth opened in realization. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at Eren's shoes and he only seemed to grow angrier as he watched you blush.
"About my crush? Oh! Well I wouldn't call him a brat, but I guess his attitude could often warrant that title. He's got this sort of this determined mentality that I guess some people can find...overbearing." You played with the cuff of your dress, "But I personally find it charming."
"So he's charming?"
You hummed as you smiled, "He's a bit rough around the edges, but he always means well. He's easy on the eyes too. Got really nice hair and pretty colored eyes that makes me swoon around him. Not to mention his body looks like Zeus could be his father." To add emphasis, your body leaned side to side as you laughed.
Eren snorted, his eyes rolling as he thought of any guy he knew that was like you described. All he could think of was Captain Levi and Erwin. He hated to think of Levi as charming, but he was rough all around. Erwin had eyes that Historia had once described as pretty, but to think of you being attracted to someone as old as him made his stomach flip.
"Want to head back to my office?" You suggested, not wanting to leave Eren's side until he figured it out but also not wanting to stick around in case other officers walked in. You got a stiff nod and wanted to giggle when Eren still opened the door for you. As the both of you walked through the large building, you added a hop to your step as you continued,
"He's also such a gentleman. He respects me, he's never intimidated by my sharp wit, always opens doors for me, waits until I'm sitting before he starts eating, and he almost seems proud of me being a doctor. He's just so understanding and sure of himself as a man that I guess the idea of having a girlfriend in my position would never make him feel inferior." You turned to look at Eren sideways and noticed his shoulders hunched, you knew it was cruel how you kept teasing him but were hopeful that it would click for him soon, so you went on.
"Wow, sounds like a real keeper." He grumbled, now thinking of Jean or even Connie. Armin was too occupied with Annie and Reiner was too obsessed with Historia to hang around you. There was no way Beruto/Borrito/Bertoto would catch your eye as you had made it a point to always get his name wrong, but Connie made you laugh and Jean was always extra nice to you.
"I'm telling you, I think he's perfect. He's dependable, strong, and we share so many of the same ideas. I could talk to him for hours and never be bored and when I'm not with him, I feel...sad. I just constantly want to be by his side and if I'm not I want him to be thinking about me because that's exactly what I do."
You both entered your office, you walked up to your desk as you spoke, turning around and leaning against it to look at Eren. He had closed your door a little harder than necessary, the wood shaking against the frame as he crossed his arms and leaned his back on the door. He looked downright irritated and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.
"So why haven't you told him?"
You shrugged, "I think I've been pretty obvious about it, I'm always smiling when he's in the room, I always want to be with him, there's never a day where we don't walk together. I even wore this dress for him today."
You waved down at your figure, Eren's eyes looked over you twice and you jumped up on your desk, your thighs parting as you let the short skirt cover your panties and barely cover the tops of your thighs.
"I'm sure he'll love it." Eren spit out.
"I don't know..." You tilted your head, "Do you?"
Eren pushed himself off the door, going to your bookcase and letting his fingers brush the spines of the books, "It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not Mr. Pretty eyes. Sounds like a simpleton to me."
You let out an actual deep sigh and Eren met you with furrowed brows.
"What?"
"You're so fucking dense, Eren."
"What did I say?" He threw his hands up, "Just because I called him simple? I'm so sorry I don't care to hear you go on and on about this guy. I never thought I'd see you bend over backwards for some guy who opens doors for you. I thought you would have higher standards than that."
You let out a snort, "Keep talking Yeager, and I just might higher them."
"I mean I never thought looks would be so important to you. It's so-"
"So what?" Your tongue had a sharp edge that did not go unnoticed by Eren. He stood only a few feet from your desk, but you saw the awkward shift in his posture.
"Shallow." He spit out.
"Excuse me?" You gave him a look that said if he wouldn't apologize in the next ten seconds, he would surely live to regret it.
"What I mean is...what guy could possibly have this head over heels and you're just now telling me? I thought...I thought we-" He stopped, looking to the side and you relaxed before saying,
"We what, Eren?"
"I thought we had something special." He muttered. He looked to see your mouth opened in a small gasp and he began to turn to exit when you quietly beckoned him over.
"Eren...come here."
"No, I should g-"
"Please." You begged and the look in your eyes brought him to stand in front of you. Your hands reached for his shirt, yanking him forward and you hooked your legs around his calves. Eren gaped at you, not knowing what to do and say as you put one hand on his shoulder and the other cupped his cheek.
"You are such a dumbass." You laughed, "The person I've been going on and on about, that simpleton you bashed, is you. It's always been you, Eren."
It was like watching a light flicker on very very slowly, but once it was on you watched as embarrassment flooded Eren. His smile was sheepish and stupid as he stuttered over his words. His hands rested on your hips and you stroked his face from his temple to jaw as you asked,
"Do you maybe feel the same way?"
You didn't get a verbal answer, the sudden kiss Eren laid on you was an answer enough. His lips were soft and warm as they moved against your own, his tongue enveloped yours and you felt him lean more onto you. The moan that slipped out his mouth when you bit his bottom lip made something tighten in your stomach.
When you two finally broke apart you didn't miss the trail of saliva that connected the two of you and you whimpered for more. The second kiss was heavier, a clash of teeth and tongues as Eren feverishly wrestled to touch you everywhere his hands could reach. You felt him press against your core, the loud gasp you let out made him look at you in concern.
"Sorry, sorry. I'll stop if you want me to."
You shook your head as you met those green eyes that held you captive since day one, "More. I want more."
The smirk was something you had never seen, his eyes became half-lidded as Eren kissed your nose. Then your chin, then your neck. When he reached your collar, his finger hooked onto the top of your dress, pulling the fabric down as he kissed just above your breast.
"She wants more." He said to himself, the soft rasp in his voice made you attempt to close your legs. His hands pushed what little that had covered your legs up and Eren's fingers brushed your core.
The jump you gave made his smirk grow, "I haven't even touched you yet."
He saw the small patch of dampness on your panties, and before you could ask him what he was doing, you let out a sharp gasp when his fingers pushed the fabric to the side and he plunged two fingers into your pussy.
The moan he ripped from you was like music to his ears and as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out he watched as your face became hot and red. It was uncomfortable as first, you could even say it hurt but that didn't stop you from rocking your hips up to meet his eager hands. You weren't entirely prepared as you felt a bit tense as Eren kissed your neck, the suckling on your flesh making small breathy whimpers leave your mouth. His other hand's fingers hovered over the buttons on the back of your dress and his eyes asked for permission as he glanced up at you.
A small tentative nod was all he received before he took out his hand from between your legs, his tongue skillfully licking the digits cleaned and you didn't think you would find such an act so erotic. You arm hooked around his neck as you brought him down to a kiss, you could taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you back eagerly, his fingers skillfully working the buttons on your dress and you wondered for a brief moment if he had ever done such an act before. You pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to lose focus or confidence while in the middle of being with Eren by letting unnecessary insecure creep into your heart. As if being able to read your mind, Eren said-
"Stop being in your head," A hard kiss against your lips, "Be here with me."
His nose rubbed sweetly against yours, fingers tilting your head up as you gave a hesitant nod. Your eyes wanted to focus anywhere but his eyes and you could felt warmth spread across your cheeks when the sleeves of your dress fell down your arms. The idea of letting Eren see all of you was as exciting as it was nerve-wrecking, the most he ever saw was your legs and back from that one time you walked out of the bath in only a towel. Seeing him shirtless was not new but you still felt your breath catch in your throat as you watched him yank the material off. Your hands explored the newly exposed skin, fingers dipping in every curve of muscle and your hand rested just above the waistband of his jeans. You noticed his breathing grow heavy, Eren's head falling forward on your exposed shoulder where you felt him nip and suck on the soft flesh. You returned the favor by kissing him on the chest, your eyes still casted downwards as you fumbled with the buckle on his belt, you let out a small curse from how hard your hands were shaking and Eren placed a gentle hand on top of yours, his eyes alight with amusement as his lips curved into a soft smile.
"Baby, relax." He murmured, he pushed your hands aside as he took over the task. You let out a deep breath as you heard the sound of his zipper being tugged down and you decided to be bold. You lowered the upper half of your dress, the cotton falling off your arms with ease and you blushed furiously once you remembered that you hardly ever wore bras and today was no different.
Your nipples were taut as you shivered from the cold air in your office and Eren stared at you in wonder his eyes raking your body as you looked to the side and brought your bottom lip in between your teeth.
"Fuck, can I touch you?" Eren blurted, his hands still near his trousers and you giggled when he added a last second, "Please."
Nodding, you figured it was time to stop feeling so shy. You had been dreaming about this moment for months, yet as the man you loved stood before you, eager to be with you, all you could think about was how scared you were that you wouldn't be enough to satisfy him.
One more glance at the way he watched you was enough for you to think, If he really didn't, he wouldn't be looking at me as if I put all the stars in the sky.
You felt the second wind of confidence hit you and you took Eren by surprise as you hooked your fingers on his belt loops and tugged the fabric down. You palmed him through the thin material of his briefs and his hips jerked from the contact before he melted against you. Lowering the elastic, your small hand wrapped itself around his shaft and you took a moment to admire his dick. It was something new and foreign to you, for a moment you wondered if all male penises looked like that but you pushed that thought aside as you found yourself not really wanting to ever know, as long as Eren's would be the only one you saw. You hand moved up and down, your thumb brushing across his tip as you swiped some of the liquid leaking out to use as lube.
You knew he was a few inches above average, the thickness was also enough to make you worry for a moment whether he would be able to fit in you as his fingers struggling to push inside of you were of any indication of how tight your body was. Either way you were determined to satisfy the both of you, the idea of him using you and watching his face come apart as he milked himself dry using only your pussy had your head feeling fuzzy with want. He rested his head on you, causing your body to lean back and you pressed one palm on your desk behind you and the other jerked him off a bit sloppily. His moans filled the space of your office, you secretly prayed to the gods that the scouts could be smart enough for once to not be injured or to be able to at least handle it themselves and your eyes flickered to the door for a moment.
"Eren," You murmured to the shell of his ear, his heavy breaths fanning across the span of your chest and you felt both your bodies getting hot. "The door, we need to lock the door."
His groan was the only response you got as he trailed kisses up your neck and shoulder, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, he was such a guy sometimes. You began to lower yourself from the desk before his hand on your leg suddenly halted your movements and he gave you a lazy smile, his half lidded eyes softly rolling as he let out an obnoxious groan of annoyance.
"I'll do it." He didn't even bother to tuck himself back into his briefs, his dick fully erect as he made way to your door. You felt your hand falling to your side and you bit your lip as you thought about what you wanted to do twice before letting your own hand push the fabric of your underwear to the side once more. You rubbed at your clit lazily as you softly moaned, your eyes closing at the sensation and you smiled when you heard the soft, "Shit." coming from a few feet ahead of you. Eren's eyes were transfixed on you, the way your head rolled back as your moans became louder and higher pitched was making him painfully hard and he wanted-no needed to be inside of you before he was sure he would come right then and there.
Your eyes were still closed when you felt him settle between your legs once more, eyes hazy and smile lazy as you felt him tug your panties down your legs. Your ass lifted briefly to help and you giggled when he grunted in annoyance from having to shuffle backwards to slip them off completely. He laughed with you as his hand cupped you by your jaw, lips finding yours in a tender kiss and the hand that had been rubbing at your clit was used to steady yourself by his shoulder. His muscles flexed under your touch and your breaths intermingled as he stared at you with such an intensity that you felt your stomach flip. You looked down to where he rubbed his length along your folds and gulped.
"I-I'm nervous." You admitted, cheeks blushing and Eren kissed your temple.
"It's okay, I'll take care of you. Do you trust me?" You gasped at the intensity in his eyes, Eren Yeager was one who never beat around the bush and you felt tears pool around your eyes as you nodded. Everything leading up to this moment overwhelmed you suddenly, losing your family, gaining your dream job, becoming independent so quickly, and falling in love with a man who turned into what so many feared but who let you place` flower crowns on his head during tea parties. He continued to maintain eye contact with you, your lips parting and eyes partly closing as he began to push past your labia. It all felt too much, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else in that exact moment Eren pressed his tip into your passageway. There was a bit of resistance and the guttural moan he released made your eyes widen in an audible gasp, he looked ethereal with reddened cheeks, a slacked opened jaw, eyes that looked close to tears, and thin layer of sweat making his dark brown locks stick to his forehead.
He pushed another inch in, trying his best to not act too quickly or too harshly. All he wanted to do was fucking ruin you. Mark you as his by impregnating you and watching as you took every drop of his semen. It seemed you wanted it too as your hips jerked forward and took in another inch.
"Eren, please." You had no idea what you were asking for, he was being slow and gentle and as much as you appreciated his mindfulness, it had been six long months and if you had to go through another night of humping your pillow or rubbing one out with only fantasies of Eren touching you (Sometimes even Levi, depending on how much alcohol you had consumed) you were gong to scream.
Another inch and a deep chuckle was his response. Your eyes were set ablaze as the realization that he was teasing you.
"Please what baby?"
"Give it to me." You whispered, your hand tugging at his hair harshly and the hiss of pain he released was simultaneous when he completely thrusted his entire length into you. Your thighs jerked at the sudden intrusion and the cry you let out was loud enough that if anybody were nearby, the would have assumed someone struck you. Your hand smacked against his chest, your breath ragged as you attempted to give Eren an angry glance but your pussy betrayed you as it clenched hard around him.
You both released a gasp when Eren fully bottomed out inside you. His hips flush against your parted thighs and your foreheads pressed against one another, lips brushing but not kissing yet as you two came to terms of what was being done. You and Eren were one, there was no going back from what was about to transpire and you silently prayed that he wouldn't regret it later.
"Stop being in your head," He murmured against your mouth, eyes looking into yours, "Be here..."
He gave a heavenly thrust and you felt his arms wrap themselves around your waist as he forced you to fall back onto your desk with a small uff and your hands fell onto his shoulders. Your legs locked around his waist and the new angle caused him to be deeper inside you, but he continued to stare at your with that same admiration from that day he had met you.
"With me."
You nodded slowly, kissing Eren for what felt like the first time. A bit shyly and unsure as your mouth moved against his slowly, you savored the taste of tea and something sweet from his tongue and you let one of your hands hold him by his face as the other found solace in his hair.
Eren began to thrust into you, the rhythm a bit off at first as you two tried to find what worked and when he dipped his hips a little and heard the string of filthy words leaving your mouth, he gave a knowing smirk.
"Hmm, right there princess?"
You panted, your tongue lolling out as his began to go faster. One of your hands shot out to the side to brace yourself on something when Eren began to fuck you harder and instead you turned to see you hand knocked your bottle of ink over, the deep blue liquid was spilling everywhere but before you could let your brain process the mess, Eren began to suck on the flesh of your neck that you exposed when you moved your head. You moaned as you closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensations of it all, your hands grabbing at the muscles in his back and you arched your own and pressed your chest into him.
"Oh fuck," Eren moaned out, "This pussy is so good. You're taking me so well, princess."
"Yeah?" You panted out, "Going to cum in me, baby?"
Eren picked himself up on his forearms, too preoccupied with how pretty your tits looks bouncing with each thrust to notice the your hair was sprawled all over and the upper part of his arm was touching something wet, he figured it was the sweat you two were producing with your coupling.
"I'm gonna get you pregnant, make you mine forever."
"I'm yours!" You screamed as his hips slammed particularly harder down onto your own.
"Choke me, make me a mommy, cum in me, just please don't stop fucking me." You cried out, and a new sort of excitement showed in his eyes, his hand cupped just below your jaw and the light pressure he put on you made you moan louder.
The sounds of skin smacking, panting breaths, and heavy moans filled the air. Eren coaxing you to come all over his dick as you begged him to not pull out of you echoed of the walls of your office. You went on like that for a good while and you giggled in realization that your silent wish for everyone to leave the two of you alone for a while had come true.
Unbeknownst to you two, there had almost been three interruptions. The first being Captain Levi who wanted to ask if mixing his blood pressure medicine with wine would be too dangerous, but when he heard you scream he almost barged in before the unmistakable moan that followed made him fully come to a halt. He didn't even think twice about what was transpiring, briefly remembering that Eren was in fact with you this morning before quickly turning around and hauled ass as far from the hallway as he could. He wasn't sure where he was heading before he stumbled into Erwin's office, the commander looking up to see his captain look like he just ran a marathon.
"Levi? You look like you just saw a ghost?" His eyebrows creased, "Are you okay?"
"Yeager isn't as dense as we thought."
Eren stood to his full height, grabbing at your ankles and moving your legs onto his shoulders to they were fully parallel to his body. You let out another giggle at how your ankles were now on either side of his head, but the small kiss he gave your right one made you let out a noise of adoration. He gripped your hips, smiling as he noted the streaks of something blue all over your chest and neck but decided against telling you as your pussy began to pulsate around him. There was no way in hell he was going to stop you from orgasming.
The second time was Sasha and Connie as they wanted to ask if eating candies with the wrapper still on was anything they needed to worry about, but the sounds of your desk scraping across the floor with Eren commending you for being a good girl and taking him so well made the both of them stare at each other with wide eyes. The "Huh?"'s they exchanged were amusing to anyone else and Sasha grabbed Connie by the collar before they hightailed out of there. Connie wanting to see if Eren had really been capable of pulling you and Sasha calling it bullshit and stating that the real reason was that he wanted to see you naked.
His thrusts became wild and sloppy, the slushing sounds you two were making was the hottest sounds you ever heard. You held onto his wrists, your smile wide and beautiful and Eren knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.
"I'm not gonna last long," He let you know, you nodded as you reached down to rub your clit in circles.
"Fuck, you look so hot." He blurted, his cheeks a deeper red and you gave him another soft smile.
"Thanks, baby. You too." His abs were going to be the death of you and you hoped you would get the chance to suck him off later to lick them one by one in foreplay.
You felt him begin to twitch in you and you knew you were so close, your rubbing speeding up as Eren's thrusts were becoming more sporadic. The way his eyes began to roll upwards had you chanting,
"I'm-I'm cumming!" Your moan was breathy and high as you felt your release overwhelm your senses, you felt euphoria as you moaned so loud that Jean and Floch who didn't believe Connie when he said that Eren had managed to bed you stared at each other with wide eyes and gaped mouths as they stood outside your door. Their cheeks red as they rushed down the hallway as if their asses were on fire, not even halfway down the stairs when they felt their collars yanked at so harshly they almost trampled down, Captain Levi's glare knowing as he began to reprimand them for being nosy pricks.
Eren's cock dove into you hard and you felt him pulsate as he shot long ropes of cum into you, his essence overflowing as he filled you to the brim and painted your insides white.
His moan was unbelievably loud and low, the "I love you." That followed didn't go unnoticed by you and the smile he gave, made you realize how much he meant it.
"I love you." Your answered back, he pushed your thighs to your chest when he lowered himself to kiss you. His cock softening inside you and he slowed his thrusts down and milked himself dry. He tapped his tip on your sensitive clit, making sure he was empty before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. The creampie in you was beginning to ooze out and he used his two fingers to push it back in, your hips bucking at the intrusion and you whined about your sensitivity.
You sat up, your hand going to fix your hair, only groaning slightly when you felt the ink on some strands already drying. You huffed before jumping down and fixing your dress. Eren was putting his shirt back on, his back slightly turned to you and your eyes widened in embarrassment at seeing the blue ink in what was obviously your finger prints streaked all over. You looked down and saw that it had well faded from your hands, transferring to your lover who put on his jacket. You shrugged, figuring no one would see it and you could wash your hands later. Your hair would be a bit tricky to explain but you would be home to shower soon anyway, which reminded you-
"Do you want to stay over tonight?" You blurted, scaring Eren as his eyes widened, you bit the inside of your cheek and fumbled with your fingers.
He smiled, walking up to you and kissing you on the lips before replying, "I would love to. I have to do some work today, and pack an overnight bag but I'll be home by dinner." His eyes looked you over, stifling a laugh when he saw the marks of blue ink on your neck, debating on telling you but not being able to deny how cute they looked on you, a gentle reminder of what happened just moments ago and an odd turn on for him to think of it as him marking you as his, the lovebite also on the side making him watch you with love.
You nodded before giving a follow-up question, "Chicken or fish?"
"Fish." He nodded, you grabbed a few papers from your desk drawer and Eren asked if you were all set before taking your hand into his as the two of you began to walk out the office, you mentioned having to speak to Erwin about the cadet recovering from a broken limb and Eren listened patiently, your hands swinging in between the two of you and you both relished at how easy it felt to transition into a life of domestication together. He walked you to Erwin's office, his knuckles knocking on the door before a loud, "One minute!" replied.
You both shared a look of confusion before shrugging and stepping to the side. You fixing his hair and Eren's hand resting on top of your hips when the office door opened. You both turned to see Jean and Floch who sported sullen faces, their arms swinging in front of them as if they were children just denied a cone of ice cream.
"Boys?" You called, your free hand interlocking with Eren who stood in place as you took a step toward the pair. "Everything alright?"
They looked between you and Eren, Jean seeing the ink marks on your neck and seeing Eren's hair haphazard was enough to make him look to the floor, his cheeks reddening and Eren could only smirk. Floch was the opposite, he couldn't take his eyes off you as his face held a permanent grimace and you wondered if he was constipated.
"Baby," Eren called, tugging you back to him and Jean scoffed, Possessive ass is already showing her off. He thought to himself.
"They just got yelled at by Erwin, whatever they did was obviously bad, just leave them be."
You nodded in understanding, giving them a comforting smile and Floch didn't miss the knowing look in Eren's eyes.
"Sorry to hear about that. If you two ever need anything, you know where my office is."
"Yeah, that's the problem." Captain Levi's voice came from the doorway. Jean and Floch mumbled a quick goodbye before scurrying away and you couldn't help but fall into deeper confusion.
The captain and Eren exchanged looks before Eren bent to kiss your cheek.
"I got to go. I'll see you later, princess." You blushed at the nickname and public display, murmuring a soft okay in reply as your boyfriend? walked away from you.
You gave Levi a smile which he didn't return, you didn't miss the small blush on his cheeks and you figured it was from seeing such intimacy from Eren. You were almost positive Levi was still a virgin. Walking into Erwin's office, you all but skipped the man's desk, falling beside him and giving him a bright smile which he returned.
"Hey Erwin, just wanted to update you on the cadet's recovery plan. He should be back in training in a few months if he listens to my instructions, think you can help me?"
"Sure what do you need?"
"Well, I'd need you to sign these release forms first." You shrugged putting the papers in front of him, you looked at his desk and grabbed the pen, "Where's your ink?"
The chuckle the two men gave you made your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"What?"
"Seems like you're wearing it, Doc." Levi's eyes flickered to your neck.
You let out a gasp and your hands slapped to cover you and the laughs that followed only made you blush furiously.
Dammit, You thought, Eren you idiot.
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babyflash · 3 years ago
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Firstly, mind dropping some fics about Wally's non hero friends(counting Hartley, and Frances, since they are not really heroes).
Second, I see your 'the team not believing Hart and Linda exist' and raise it to 'they know Hartley exists but don't believe Wally knows him' . After all, the Rathaways were/are an extremely rich family, and Hartley is quite an activist, so I do belive there would be atleast some news about him or his family.
edit: i didn’t realize you were aksing for FICS lmaoshjifghu i just talk a LOT in this. anyways lOL i will have to get back to you on fics anon, have my brain thoughts to tide you over! 
firstly, i never mind talking about wally west and his crew of loser dweebs!!!! i feel like wally has a bunch of friends, but he isn't very popular. like he's an academic decathlon kid for SURE. total science dweeb. plus he's younger than all his peers (at least in my little pea brain because he skipped a grade or was in some sort of accelerated program) so his friends are all sort of like him. kind of dorky, a little weird, kind of the worst but in a fun and loving way.
so obviously we have the incredible linda park, junior reporter extraordinaire! she's a highly curious kid, like asks a bunch of questions in class and expects serious answers from the teacher or her peers. total free thinker, total babe, wally's in love. he doesn't KNOW that's what he's feeling, he think it's totally normal to be platonically obsessed w ur homie. anyways, linda is like magnetic! she's kind of loud, but he's louder so it doesn't bother him, she talks a lot, but he talks more so he likes to listen to her, and she's just so smart!! like linda is so quick and sharp and witty! i think she probably doesn't have, like, insane grades because she's so invested in throwing herself into her "field work" (i.e. giving wally/kid flash a heart attack when trying to get the "scoop" mid battle) and because school simply doesn't interest her because not everyone has the same inquiring mind, but she also has this like deep sense of inadequacy if she doesn't do well in academics BECAUSE she prides herself on her mind. so she's like a solid A/B student.
HART!!!! HARTLEY!!!!! like what i know about hart is from. a bunch of different things that are all pretty different so i will do my best to talk about him. i like this sort of.... bitchy, sardonic, slightly pretentious theater kid hart. like i fuck with that sort of thing, especially when looking at him as a teenager (because i imagine they all get together in high school, but wallinda were childhood bffs :') but i'll talk more about that some other time) because... whoo boy. parent stuff, am i right teens? so hart's got this sort of chip on his shoulder and he doesn't really know how to interact with other people but that's okay because wally doesn't either!! you know how like in high school an extrovert will adopt a bunch of introverts? that's them. linda and wally have these wonderful personalities hart just couldn't stay away from so, much to his own chagrin, he wanted to be around them! he felt good and regular with them and he liked to just be in their presence. he also really finds himself through the stage and through music and musicals especially. he begins to sort of grow into his own thing as they grow closer to graduation and it's just lovely to see. and like, again, just stupidly fucking smart! he's an overachiever, due to pressure from external factors and also just like this sort of awful teenaged need to be better than other people (me too king. is this me projecting? i barely even know this guy and look at me shoving all my problems onto him). he's always thought of school as a bore and a waste of time, but then he meets these insane and wonderful nerds and school is a little exciting!!! he's excited!! idk if any of that makes sense. i'm also desperately sorry if it's ooc i don't know as much about him and his backstory as i do some other characters. (any recs of good hartley stuff?)
and YEAH LMAO!!! wally being like "oh that's my friend hartley :)" and robin being like "yeah okay nice try kid idiot" and wally's like i swear to god if people don't start believing i have friends i'm gonna riot
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poisonheadcrabsalesman · 4 years ago
Text
More therapy thoughts part 1/?
Behavior Theory Frameworks/Conditioning and What the fuck does Master Chief talk about in therapy?
Ramblings below - like a lot, like I spent too much time writing this and you should not read this
Behavioral Theory could work well as a framework with rehabilitating Spartan IIs if the case worker focused on Operant Conditioning Theory and Cognitive Social Learning Theory, which I talked about in this ask because I think I’m funny and this blog is an archive of me applying human behavior theories to video games.
Spartans have always been taught the mission comes first! Always! The 2s are indoctrinated from age 6-14 and then have that reinforced the rest of their lives. From the beginning they are taught to push themselves to the limits, earn their food by winning, form bonds with teammates but be ready to sacrifice them for the mission. The whole lives wasted vs spent conversation between John and Mendez after the augmentation surgery!
What the UNSC/ONI wants comes before their lives, the lives of other soldiers, civilians, AI etc. This constant conditioning of expectations and rewards has created the norms cemented in their minds. This becomes standard operating procedure.
Spartans are also an entirely separated social group, other people have made really great posts on how they are Othered and have their own way of communicating with body language. ODSTs hate Spartans, marines see them as cyborgs or saviors, and while they’re allies, Spartans are not seen or treated as human, by literally everyone. They are a means to an end, with the original goal being to maintain the UNSC’s position of power and crush the insurrectionists in the outer colonies, but uh oh Aliens!
Maybe the 2s aren’t as expendable as the 3s but the mindset and reinforcement of “mission first, people second” being repeated their entire lives is going to stick. So is the constant mistreatment and abuse from their fellow soldiers and handlers. 
Addressing the cognitive distortions that come from their upbringing while also balancing the fact that Spartans are so fundamentally different from the way they developed to survive would be so much work, especially considering how much information on them is given to their therapist.  The main distortion I would apply is minimization, making large problems small and not properly dealing with them, and specifically for John, personification, accepting blame for negative events without sufficient evidence. 
Like these are grown ass super soldiers who can kill you in less than a second and calculate the amount of gravity in a room on the fly but then also can flounder when trying to comfort civilians or make small talk because their experiences and values are so alien to adults who had more developmentally “normal” lives. 
Literally applying therapy to Spartans would be like, what was done to you was wrong, the ends do not justify the means, you were children and the adults in your life failed to protect you. You are a human person who is fallible and did the best you could with what you had. And the Spartan would say, “sounds fake but okay, can I pass my psych eval and go back to war now please?”
Jumping back to Behavior Theory
Different approaches to therapy under the Behavior Theory umbrella help modify negative behaviors with treatments like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical behavior therapy that teach individuals adaptive coping like emotional regulation, distress tolerance, cognitive distortions, and interpersonal communication. And that’s just one framework under the umbrella of human behavior theories.
Social work therapy is different from psych as it approaches individuals with heavily researched, evidence-based theories and frameworks in a holistic viewing of person-in-environment, instead of a strong focus on internal psychology. 
Social work looks at all the interacting systems, environment, history, and internal and external factors affecting an individual. One of the most useful frameworks is the Biopsychosocial-Spiritual Frameworks (BPSS) when helping a client. It helps with identifying all the intersecting factors, both risk and protective, that shapes a client’s lived experiences. The most important thing to remember is that the individual is an expert in their own life, they know their experiences best.
The hardest part is applying this to Spartans because they Are So Fucked, their lived experiences, their environments and systems and institutions interacting with them, and the amount of their personal information that is probably so classified.
BPSS is a tool to help social workers assess individuals and their situations by collecting info that is related to the presenting issues and current and past circumstances. Info like medical history, hospitalizations, substance abuse, mental illness, personal relationships, family history and background, culture and norms, education, legal history, spirituality and participation etc. is all under this framework. 
For Spartan 2s most of this info is lost or classified and helping someone who has repressed every negative emotion they've had for the sake of the mission would be so much to unpack but that’s also why you’re reading the mad ramblings over an over caffeinated nerd on the internet.
Life Course Theory which looks at developmental milestones and the individual’s experiences versus the socially expected markers, how do you apply that to children who were taken and have lived such different lives? 
While early adolescence is when “normal” development of thoughts of self and identity take place alongside the physical changes of puberty, Spartans were being turned into emotionless calculating weapons. Sorry John, no forming a sense of identity and peer bonds for you, go kill that Watts guy who betrayed us and joined the insurrectionists. 
And now that I’ve gone this insane and opened 2 whole textbooks up, let’s get to Master Chief thoughts. If you’ve read this far thank you, I swear I’m normal, 2020 has just been a weird year. 
Why the fuck did I think I could write a therapy fic on a guy with 20 minutes of actual dialogue across almost 2 decades of games?
I make fun of him and call him a himbo, but he’s smart, he knows he’s being used and there is resentment there that’s been building for years. 
There’s also decades of trauma and combat experience, physical, and emotional abuse, the lack of a support network,  lack of an identity, the biological factors and aftermath of the augmentations and injuries he’s received, a whole lot of grief and self-inflicted guilt. 
The loss of a third of his peer group with the augmentation surgery, Sam’s death, the loss of Reach (the only place he’s considered home), Keyes, the Pillar of Autumn crew, Miranda Keyes, Johnson, Cortana. He cares about the marines who fight with him!!!
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He just stands there and takes it and rarely snaps, and even then it’s just small cracks on the surface with fissures running deep. The few details I will pull from Halo 5 are Blue Team’s reactions to John pushing himself so hard from the beginning of the game, and the literal crack in his armor from the fight with Locke. Like dude.  
John’s a leader and will get the mission done but he tugs on the leash. He’s earned enough of a reputation and uses it to get his way.
Halo 2’s “Permission to leave the station” with Mr. “I’m going to hand deliver a bomb to the fusion reactor of a covenant supercarrier and hope my friends catch me”. 
Halo 4 is when we see him say no to a superior officer and then 5 is him going AWOL. Palmer literally points out that no one is going to stop him.
Halo 5 kills me for many reasons but John bringing up Halsey and what she did to him and also pointing out that he knows Halo 5 Cortana is trying to manipulate him with psychological tactics hurts. 
He knows what’s been done to him!
I cannot remember which book it was but John isn’t used to working alone. He literally takes fire because he was expecting someone to have his back! 
He’s lost without Cortana! She was in his brain! Y’all! I played Halo Combat Evolved on the original xbox when I was like 8 and I knew these two were meant to be together. From the moment they met they had great chemistry and relied on each other! Cortana literally goes after people who have it out for John! John wants her approval and shows off for her in one of the books. 
I’ve already written too much here but like all of the games have John showing off for Cortana, making dry jokes, jumping out of things he shouldn’t. 
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The whole point of this rambling is to try and get my thoughts about how to approach John’s character under control.
And that’s the thing. He’s lost control. He’s lost people, he’s losing his position and being phased out as an aging spartan, a relic. John’s used to following orders and making some decisions on the battlefield but it was always short term.
He has no identity beyond being a weapon. Complete the mission, clear the LZ, get put in cryo. Rinse, repeat. 
The timeline of the games are what I'm most familiar with but with the comics and books too it’s one long run from Halo 2 to Halo 4. Cairo station to the Dreadnought to the crash landing to Forward Unto Dawn to Requiem to “The Didact is Dead but not really but we’ll deal with him off-screen”.
I know Hood apparently gave John R&R orders before Halo 5 that he ignored and kept running himself into the ground. This is a man who has to keep moving and keep being useful. 
I imagine him giving in and seeking help as a last resort to fix any problems he has with performing his duties rather than helping himself be healthier. 
Any professional he sees is going to have to approach him like they’re approaching a self sacrificing feral cat, with lunch meat and quiet. This man needs to have his support network closer, set up long term goals, and do some serious, and most likely incredibly painful, self reflection on where he’s come from and where he wants to go. Get him out of that tin can and into therapy. I don’t have a nice neat ending because this was a ramble and also therapy is not neat and tidy. Thanks for reading my words about mr halo
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transxfiles · 4 years ago
Text
Love Like You by two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat | @homeworkforpigeons
“Jane Kirk is sixteen, a sophomore at the Riverside public high school, and she’s never left Iowa. Not really. Visits to Starfleet California with her mom when she was a toddler don’t count, and   she doesn’t let herself think about Tarsus at all. To be honest, she’s rather blocked out most of Tarsus - they tell her it’s the Human brain’s reaction to stress, fight-or-flight scenarios. But even though some of her memories might not be great, she knows she’s never met a Vulcan before.
Right now, there’s a Vulcan standing right next to her on the sidewalk.
And God, she’s pretty.”
Word Count: 4210
Find this fic on AO3
The alarm’s ringing again. Loud enough to wake her up.
She doesn't want to wake up. She never wants to wake up.
“Fuck,” she mutters, kicking her covers away and rolling out of bed. She doesn’t really have any reason to be upset, other than being woken up early - but she’s the one who set the alarm, so really, she shouldn’t be that frustrated at all.
“Stupid past me,” she mutters. “Jane Tiberius Kirk of last night, what were you thinking?”
Jane Kirk is sixteen years old. Practically an adult, she thinks, as most teenagers often do. Of course, Jane’s thoughts are a bit more justified, in this department. Raising yourself will do that to you. After your Dad dies on the day of your birth, and your Mom remarries an asshole and then abandons you, and then your brother ditches you on top of it all, you start to make your own breakfast and fold your own socks and make your own deadlines and shit. It happens.
Every day during the school year she wakes up like this, to the pinging of her alarm
She didn’t used to be like this; preferred sleeping in, getting to school an hour or two late. Sometimes not going at all. But a shitty report card gave Frank yet another excuse to call her a waste of space, and was the final tipping point for shipping her away for good.
(Tarsus… wasn’t great. To put it very, very vaguely. She was sent there at fourteen by a stepfather desperate to get rid of her, and she’s determined to never, ever go back. She knows it’s over, now, knows it can’t hurt her. That’s what the therapist told her. But it’s still there.)
It’s not the first day of school today, thank God. Just another mid-year one. A day of no importance. It’s almost insignificant enough that Jane might just consider skipping, except she knows she can’t skip, not after what happened on Tarsus two years ago. So she opens one of her dresser drawers and fishes around for clothes.
Jane Kirk is sixteen. She cuts her own hair with her mom’s bad kitchen scissors (she wouldn’t use Winona’s good ones, wouldn’t do that to her) cuts it short short short like she likes it, and she wears shitty t-shirts old enough to be considered precious artifacts if they weren’t so goddamn ratty. They say things like ‘Beastie Boys’ and ‘Talking Heads' and she even has one that says ‘Nine Inch Nails’. Old bands, from the 20th century or so, that are loud or angry enough to suit her just right, but old enough to be free online.
She gets dressed, grabs her backpack and her school PADD, running out the door and letting it slam behind her. She could technically be driving to school (she’s old enough by now - technically she won’t be able to get her real license until she’s seventeen, but sixteen is old enough for a permit, which could get her to and from school no problem) but Frank told her to fuck off after she kinda sorta drove his precious sports care off a cliff.
She doesn’t even regret it, not really, not even as she finds herself walking alongside the dusty Riverside highway.
It was damn fun to drive that car off a cliff. Fuck Frank.
-
Jane Kirk is sixteen, a sophomore at the Riverside public high school, and she’s never left Iowa. Not really. Visits to Starfleet California with her mom when she was a toddler don’t count, and   she doesn’t let herself think about Tarsus at all. To be honest, she’s rather blocked out most of Tarsus - they tell her it’s the Human brain’s reaction to stress, fight-or-flight scenarios. But even though some of her memories might not be great, she knows she’s never met a Vulcan before.
Right now, there’s a Vulcan standing right next to her on the sidewalk.
And God, she’s pretty.
“‘M Jane,” she says. Trying to make conversation. “You waiting for the bus?”
The Vulcan’s eyes are intelligent, scanning her up and down, noting her backpack and the PADD in her hand, but no response comes. Jane realizes, for the first time, that she might not understand Standard. Which would be a bit odd - most people understand Standard, especially if they plan on visiting some middle-of-nowhere Terran dump like Riverside. But Jane’s never met a Vulcan, doesn’t know much about them. Their culture, their customs. It’s quite possible this girl never learned Standard at all, has never heard it before now (however unlikely that may be).
So Jane tries again.
“You going on the bus?” She asks, again, pointing to the little scrap of metal that’s a lousy excuse for a sign, the only indicator of there being a bus stop here.
The Vulcan girl looks at her. Barely nods - though the nod is there, that small sign of understanding, and Jane’s grateful for that.
“Neat,” says Jane. “I’m, uh, catching a ride to school.”
The girl says something in response, but it comes out awkward and quiet. Jane can’t tell what language it was meant to be, though she has some hunch it was an attempt at Standard. She’s really wishing she’d stolen some translator tech from school, now. She’d thought about it, before, but never had much use for it.
“I’m Jane,” Jane says, again, trying to salvage whatever it is that currently feels like it’s crashing straight into the ground right now. “Dunno if you caught that, before.”
She seems to understand what Jane’s saying, now, at least enough to know the name.
“I am Spock,” she says, Standard broken and heavily accented, pointing to herself.
“Nice to meet you Spock,” Jane says, for some reason unable to stop herself from grinning. “Welcome to hell.”
-
Spock seems to be around her age, though can’t say for sure - Jane has a hard time understanding specifics through the language barrier problem, and she’s never met a Vulcan before. She doesn’t know how the whole aging thing works with them.
Spock’s tall and wiry and absolutely stunning. She wears too-big sweaters, probably hand-knit by a parent, and bright purplish-blue eye makeup that Jane’s pretty sure doesn’t really fit the Vulcan norm. She seems clever, incredibly clever, which would make sense; Jane’s heard that Vulcans are insanely smart, eidetic memory or something like that. She’s sure it’s true; she can see it in Spock’s eyes. She’s intelligent.
Of course Jane wants to know everything about her.
But Spock doesn’t seem to speak much Standard, and Jane doesn’t know any Vulcan.
She doesn’t understand a word she says.
-
The bus arrives, they get on it, and when Jane sits down, Spock takes the seat beside her, back completely straight, hands folded neatly in her lap. Jane takes it as a good sign, and spends the bus ride to school rambling on and on about new research that’s come out in transporter tech, how they haven’t quite figured out the way to transport people long distances yet but they’re getting better, how she thinks she might know where they’re going wrong and how to fix it, and she tells Spock, and Spock listens, and no one’s listened to Jane in a long, long time.
They get off the bus and they go to school and it turns out that Spock’s in all the advanced classes, which is great, because Jane’s in the advanced classes, too. She wonders what the fuck Spock’s doing here, how she can manage in school when she barely knows the language, why anyone would even want to come to Riverside in the first place. But she doesn’t ask, because she’s not sure how well Spock would understand, anyway, and then it’s evening and Jane’s taking the bus home and she’s on her bed and on her PADD and stealing textbooks off the Internet. It’s not that hard, really; most of the time she doesn’t even have to hack the stuff herself. Someone else has done it for her, a similarly desperate student with no cash and no way to keep up in class without a textbook. Finding one that’ll assist her in this specific area of study proves a bit harder, but eventually she finds a website (passcode protected, membership required) and she gets past all that shit with ease, and she downloads what she’s looking for.
Jane Kirk is sixteen, and she’s smart, damn smart, and she considers herself pretty good with languages. But Vulcan is fucking hard. And for her, it shouldn’t be. She conquered most of Earth’s predominant languages within the span of a year, and she picked up SSL (Standard Sign Language) within a week. She can do Orion (quite a few dialects), Tellaran, even a bit of Klingon (which means she can introduce herself and say dick and fuck off and other such choice phrases). But Vulcan?
Vulcan’s a bitch.
(She means this in the nicest way, of course.)
She picks up her PADD, new textbook just downloaded, and she finds it almost impossible to get through. She can’t even really explain why. Maybe it’s just the general syntax that’s fucking her up. That’s happened before. Could be that the language is just nearly impossible for Human vocal chords to manage, in which case this would all be yet another lost cause. But she digs a bit deeper and finds out that, though broken, she might be able to get out something understandable.
She skips all lessons on written Vulcan; she won’t need that. She’s looking for the more practical uses. Conversational type stuff. She looks into phonetics, watching videos of spoken Vulcan.
She’s up until maybe 3AM, and she realizes she ought to get at least a bit of sleep before the sun rises again. She didn’t even realize the time until she looked to the top of her PADD. She’s never been good at noticing time passing when she’s caught up in something like this. But once she realizes she only has four hours at most to get some sleep in, she turns of her light and tucks her PADD away.
Jane’s sixteen. She’s tired, but she can’t seem to fall asleep. She thinks she’s in love with Spock. She realizes, for the first time, that she has no idea what love is.
-
They see each other all the time, thanks to school. It’s great. Before Spock, Jane really had no one. If they were down a person in Chem, she’d go without a lab partner. She worked by herself on History presentations, never went to study groups. Arguably never needed study groups, based on some of her recent test scores, but still, the socialization would have been nice. When she really wanted company, she stopped by the local bar. She was technically a minor, yeah, but the town was small and no one cared. It was unhealthy and far from safe, she knows that, but it was where she could go.
But now, she’s got Spock, and she doesn’t really do any of that anymore.
They stick to each other, through the school day, then before and after it. Hanging out under trees or in the wide open spaces between farms that no one really goes anymore. They’re walking through one of the empty fields right now, and Jane has her eyes on a gnarled old tree to climb. Spock doesn’t climb trees, so Jane’ll probably have to go on by herself, but she knows that Spock will be happy to stand and watch, talk maybe. It’s been a few weeks, now; they’ve both been getting better at communicating.
Jane points at the tree in the distance, question in her eyes.
Spock nods, and they begin to walk towards it. As soon as they reach the base of the tree Jane’s climbing, one branch, then another, up and up, glancing down every once and awhile to check that Spock’s still there.
Jane notices that Spock’s wearing one of those sweaters again. Spock’s always wearing sweaters.
“Ko-mekh?” Asks Jane, pointing at the sweater. Mother? She’s been meaning to ask about it, and hopes Spock’s able to understand; Jane’s Vulcan isn’t perfect, but she just finished up the chapter on family and interpersonal relations last night, and she’s feeling pretty good in that area.
Spock nods. “Gift,” she says, in Standard. “Hanukkah.”
“Oh! You’re Jewish!” Jane smiles. “Me too. My family's not really practicing though...” ...because my dad died and my mom's never home, she thinks, but doesn't say it out loud. She reaches for another branch just above her, only to find it the slightest bit out of reach. With a grunt, she jumps, grabbing at it with both hands and swinging herself around until she’s successfully made it up another level. Jane’s grinning, looking down at Spock who’s looking a bit smaller now. “Taller than you,” she says.
The Vulcan’s raising her eyebrow again. “Riyeht.” Incorrect.
“Not when I’m in a tree.”
Spock sighs, says something in Vulcan that probably translates to ‘Silly Human.’ Jane makes a mental note to look that up when she gets back to her house tonight. Figures it’ll be useful to know.
-
Jane’s sixteen, and tall enough for her age, and strong from working in the fields every summer. Strong enough to hold her own against Frank, even if she can’t really fight back.  It’s fine, thought; Frank doesn’t hit her so much, anymore. She doesn’t know why. Might have something to do with Tarsus, or something to do with her getting older. She tries not to think about it. She still keeps her door locked at night.
When she sneaks back into the house this evening, she finds him passed out on the couch. He smells like shit - she plugs her nose as she walks past him, resigning herself to a shower as soon as she gets upstairs, just to get rid of the lingering stench. Done with the shower, she collapses onto her bed wearing the first clean clothes she can find (which in this case is a pair of jeans and a tank top), weary, eyes closed as she fishes around blindly for her PADD. As soon as she finds it, she opens her eyes, and flips through one of the Standard-Vulcan dictionaries she’s been using for reference.
If she’s reading it right, ‘Silly Human’ would be Duh-komihn. She flips a few more pages, but she can’t find a term for ‘Silly Vulcan’. She wants to call Spock now, but Frank could hear; the walls are thinner than they seem. She doesn't want to risk that. She’ll have to bring it up with Spock later. They're doing some project or another together in Chem, and they're meeting up for it tomorrow. She'll ask her about it then.
-
They’re getting better at communicating with each other.
It's useful for a variety of reasons - for one, Jane can understand Vulcan, and she knows for a fact that Spock isn't making fun of her all the time, which is a bit of a relief. And now Spock knows how much Jane swears, which is probably for the better, because hey, that's important shit to know. Jane asks her what the Vulcan word is for 'Silly Vulcan' after explaining her 'Silly Human' research. Spock tells her that they don't say 'Silly Vulcan' because Vulcans are incapable of being silly (or at least, that's what Jane thinks Spock tells her - she's still not the best at Vulcan, after all). Jane says that she doesn't think that's true, and Spock struggles to maintain her cold Vulcan facade, so so tempted to stick her tongue out at the duh-komihn.
"Vulcans do not lie," Spock mutters.
Jane keeps a list of the new things she’s learned about Spock. Right now, it looks something like this:
Good at chess.
Jewish
Human mother?
(Maybe) exchange student
Could theoretically climb trees but won’t because of ‘Surak’s Teachings’ or something like that.
Meditates
Enjoys ‘Narat do-toh’? NOTE: Vulcan game, like hide-and-seek
Can't lie - but that's obviously a lie. Yeah.
“What you writing?” Spock asks, after catching Jane adding something to the ever-growing list in her school notebook.
“Nirsh apc’koik du,” she says. No business you. She cringes at herself; she definitely butchered that. She was trying to say something along the lines of Not your business but she’s pretty sure she just completely screwed up.
Spock grabs the notebook, eyes skimming the page with superhuman speed. She raises an eyebrow, passing it back to Jane.
“List?”
“Oh quiet you.”
The corner of the Vulcan's mouth twitches in that way that's basically her version of a smirk. "A me list."
-
Jane's sixteen. She's smart, smarter than most sixteen-year-olds are, though she couldn't explain why. She likes coding (specifically hacking, though she's been told by multiple people that that's not technically legal) and learning languages and even the rare History lesson here or there. But she absolutely despises studying.
“Spock,” Jane whines, throwing herself across the desk. “When’re we gonna go?”
They’ve been cooped up in one of the far corners of the school’s (very, very, small) library for hours now. She’s honestly amazed it hasn’t closed on them yet, especially taking into account the annoyed looks the librarian won't stop shooting them. After her latest stink-eye, Jane thinks that they’re a minutes away from being forcefully booted. Not that it’ll deter Spock; whatever it is she’s currently researching, the Vulcan seems keen to continue until midnight if she must.
“Come on, look at me.” Jane tapped Spock’s shoulder.
Spock’s head snaps up, eyes locking on hers. Vulcans aren’t meant to show emotion, Jane’s heard, but the frustration in Spock’s eyes is clear.
“Listen. The librarian’s gonna kick us out any second now.” Jane’s gaze strays back to the angry woman at the front of the library, and she suddenly remembers every sin she’s committed in its vicinity (pre-Tarsus, of course, but still) and she gets a bit more anxious. “We really should go soon. Soon as in now. And don’t play dumb or anything because I know you’re smart and can read body language and understand at least a tenth of what I’m saying because we’re good at understanding each other.”
Spock runs a hand through her uncharacteristically mussed black hair.
“Ashal-veh…” she sighs, obviously tired. Spock mutters some other words in Vulcan, too, with the odd Standard phrase thrown in (she’s picked up a few of those - full immersion will do that to you). Jane opts not to listen; sleep-deprived ramblings tend not to be the most coherent, and it’s not really worth her trouble, anyway, since she barely speaks the language.
Jane raises an eyebrow. She’s been practicing, working on it in front of a mirror, trying to do it the way Spock can. She knows she’s not nearly as good as Spock, yet, but she’s sure that once she finally gets it down it’ll be hilarious. “You must be more exhausted than I thought. You don’t normally slip into Vulcan when we’re at school.” Jane paused. “Didja get enough sleep last night?”
Spock gives her that look of Stop questioning me or I will kill you.
“So that’s a no.”
Spock mutters something else, but Jane doesn’t catch it.
“Y’know, I’m pretty sure killing people is against Surak’s teachings,” Jane says, hands falling to the pockets of her jeans.
At this, Spock lifts the corner of her mouth ever-so-slightly - the closest Vulcans seemed to get to a smile.
“Now come on, you,” Jane says, tugging at the sleeve of Spock’s sweater. “School’s over. Come on now. Out of the library, we’re getting you home.”
“But-” Spock says, switching back to her accented Standard.
“I.” Says Jane, Vulcan sharp in her mouth as the librarian glares at them once again. Now.
-
Jane's house is empty today. Frank's gone out somewhere, work, she thinks, not investigating further. So she brings Spock over, because she can, because she wants to.
Jane's sixteen. She's bored. She's in love with her best friend, and and she wants to invite her over.
They go in through the back door, the one with the tattered old screen over it to keep bugs away. It squeaks when it opens, but they never oil the hinges. Jane doesn't have the time and Frank doesn't give a shit, and Winona's never home to hear it, so they leave it be. Jane walks into the kitchen, tile cool beneath her feet (a relief after the outside heat) and Spock follows her silently. Spock's very quiet in the way she moves - almost cat-like, though Jane's never really spent time with cats before. She thinks this is what they're like. She thinks it's a bit funny.
They hurry up the stairs to Jane's room, not wanting to spend time in the rest of the house. Even when Frank's not home something about being in any of the main rooms just feels a bit off. Jane's room is better; cleaner (though the bar for that is so low, it may as well be on the ground) and it smells a bit nicer than the rest of the house, especially when she opens the window, and she has a little old-fashioned radio that she turns on when they walk in the room. She gets a few stations in, up here, mostly the local ones that play mediocre music and report on news and sports and things. She turns the dial until she finds a station that doesn't sound like it's being eaten by static. There's a song playing on the radio, quiet and sweet, the lyrics about love or something like that. Jane's not listening to it too much.
“You ever been dancing, Spock?”
She raises an eyebrow, mutters something in Vulcan, feigns annoyance. But Jane knows her well enough, now, and she knows that Spock's just avoiding the question.
"Okay," Jane says, thinking. "Well, would you like to dance with me?"
Spock considers this for a moment, the same way she thinks through difficult test questions, or how she acts after she's just learned another odd Terran phrase. After a moment's thought, she nods. Jane reaches out to grab her shoulders, and Spock puts her hands on Jane's waste. They don't hold hands; Jane doesn't really know why, yet, but she knows it's not something Spock's too keen on. And then they're dancing, just a little, slowly and a bit awkwardly, the music coming from the radio washing over them, floating out the open window on a breeze.
“Ashel-veh?” Jane whispers, knowing that Spock can hear her.
“You looked up the meaning?” Spock asks. Her Standard’s gotten better, just like Jane’s Vulcan isn’t so bad anymore.
“It was a bit harder to find, I’ll give you that.” Jane’s voice holds amusement, soft and warm and happy. “Not in my textbook, or anything. But eventually I found it in a dictionary.”
“Hm.”
“You called me darling,” Jane says.
“Yes. And you just returned the favor.”
“Yes.”
They're quiet. They listen to the music, soft and sweet in the background. The air is warm and muggy around them. Jane's holding on to Spock, resting her head on her shoulder, and she never ever ever wants to let go.
-
The grass is soft beneath them, if a bit damp, and the field is wide and open and empty and the sky feels vast and endless. Technically, it is. But it's not something you notice too often, with the tall structures constantly on the horizon and people crowding up every space known to man. Right now, it's just them. They're laying down in the middle of the field. They're young and naive and untouchable. They're looking at the stars.
"Do you have constellations on Vulcan?" Jane asks.
Spock says something about how drawing pictures based on lights in the sky is illogical, even if one does not know that they are simply burning balls of gas in space. Jane laughs, and immediately starts to show Spock all of the constellations she knows, spinning the stories that go with them. Ursa Major and Minor, Leo, The Seven Sisters, Orion...
"Illogical," Spock says once more. It's becoming her favorite word in Standard.
(Jane's favorite Vulcan phrase is 'bath-paik' meaning 'damn you'. She thinks it's funny.)
The stars are bright and stunning out here, where the light pollution can’t touch them. Jane finds herself reaching for Spock’s hand. She’s surprised when Spock offers two fingers to her - her index and middle - and Jane mimics the movement, unsure of what it means, and they’re touching their fingers together.
“I’m gonna be a Captain someday,” she says, quietly. "Like my dad."
It’s the first time she’s ever said it out loud, and it sounds like a promise she’ll forget to keep. But Spock’s here with her, holding her hand, and she feels calm. Calm in a way she can’t quite explain.
Jane’s sixteen, Spock maybe a bit older, though not much. They spend the night watching the sky as stars and starships dance in the darkness. Jane sneaks back into her house later that evening, after she and Spock both realized they had to go home. She falls asleep quickly, feeling content. For the first time in a long time, she looks forward to waking up.
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chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago
Text
Best Part of Me -Chapter 62
Warnings: none
Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @ocfairygodmother​
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  She stands on the patio area; where terracotta and highly polished stone and faux games of various colours -laid out in intricate patterns- meet rich, luscious green grass. A fussy and cranky Addie lying along on arm and a hand over her eyes; shielding them from the bright, powerful sun as she watches TJ and Millie -supervised by their uncle- entertain themselves on the elaborate wooden playground.  Their exuberant and lively conversation floats on the breeze, accompanied by their giggles and occasional bickering; Millie successfully teaching Saju how to climb the stairs to the slide and slip down it. Less than a hundred feet avail one of the handful of nannies -Diya, an elderly woman who had helped raised both Anil and Saju and speaks both Hindi and Bengali but very little English- keeps a firm on hold on the back of Declan’s shirt as he crouches dangerously low to one of the many ponds; attempting to get a better look at turtles and frogs.
The three of them are settling in well; random tearful moments of missing home and school and their daddy, yet making the best of the situation. Always finding something to do to keep themselves busy and always managing to laugh and smile despite the tremendous changes to their young lives. TJ and Millie are especially adept at accepting new challenges; never struggling with transitions or upsets to their daily routines, simply taking things as they come and ‘rolling with the punches’.  Rarely paying attention to the heavily armed guards that continuously patrol the perimeter and line the roof of the house. Their nerves don’t seem frazzled by the open display of weapons; never asking questions regarding just who these men are and why they’re always watching them.
Tanner is an entirely different story. He’s always struggled with change; becoming incredibly anxious with even the slightest tweak to his usual routine.  Seeking comfort in familiar surroundings and finding it in sights, smells, and sounds. Needing advanced warnings before switching from one activity to the other; a sudden, abrupt change enough to bring on frayed nerves, irritable behaviour, stomach issues, and even tears. He’s easily overwhelmed by new and unfamiliar situations and is easily annoyed by crowds of people and too much noise  or activity going on around him. He loves his version of normalcy; the same faces and voices surrounding him, the comforts of home with his own belongings and the sound and the smell of the ocean. And while he loves his siblings and shares an enormous, powerful bond with his twin brother and doesn’t shy away from playing with the others or sharing in adventures, he’s happiest when left alone; comfortable and content doing the things he loves.
It would be easy to force  him to be more  like brother and sister. To just throw him into sports as opposed to always having his nose stuck in books or engrossed in school work. To be more ‘kid like’  and pursue being a social butterfly instead of secluding himself.  And while they encourage him to at least try and broaden his horizons and to experience new things and attempt to join in the fun that his siblings are having, they refuse to push him out of his comfort zone. Both had had parents that weren’t happy with how they acted or behaved and had been forced into becoming entirely different versions of themselves.  Made to ‘fit in’ by society’s standards instead of being encouraged to be who they were meant to be. And they adamantly refuse to do that to their own children; knowing too well the kind of temporary anguish and long term negative effects that are inflicted when you’re forced to be something and someone you’re not.
He lounges under one of the many trees that form a border around the yard. Using a dozing and complacent Mac as support for his back; bare feet dug into the grass and his knees bent, impossibly thick and heavy hardcover novel resting on his thighs. Those wayward locks of hair falling across his forehead; brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in concentration. A facial expression identical to one she's seen many times in the course of nearly seven years.
Satisfied with the level of safety and security being provided to her other children, Esme moves a whimpering and grumpy Addie to her chest -a hand on the back of her head when the baby immediately nestles her face into her shoulder- and journeys over to where Tanner sits.
“What are you doing, nugget?” she inquires. “You look pretty comfy.”
“Just relaxing,” he replies without looking up. “Reading some.”
“You don’t want to go play with your brother and sister? Maybe go swimming? Or go and see the animals?”  She often wonders if he’s lonely during his frequent moments of solitude.  Unable to stop herself from worrying that he is. That he’s somehow missing out on his childhood even though he’s always expressed just how happy he is doing what he loves, not what others expect him to do.
“No, I’m happy where I am,” Tanner says. “Mac’s keeping me company. Besides. I’m kinda tired today. I did lots yesterday. And the day before. I just want to hang out.”
It’s easy to forget that he’s only five. So well spoken for someone so young; words always coming so easily to him and his tone always low and calm and his face and eyes so serious. Phenomenally intelligent and intuitive. And sensitive to a fault; always worrying about things that are way behind his years. Like his father in so many ways; allowing very few people to get close to him but fiercely protective of those who ‘make the cut’. Loving so deeply and so profoundly. Traits that his father successfully manages to hide from just about everyone, but Tanner is so open and honest about.
“What are you reading?” Esme asks, as she sinks down onto the grass beside him, stretching out her legs and laying Addie along her thighs.
“Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.”
She arches an eyebrow. “You’re reading a Harry Potter book?”
Tanner nods.
“You’re five.”
He shrugs.
“Where did you find that?”
“When I was talking to Anil yesterday, I told him that I really like to read. But not little kid books. Older kid books but not too much older. When I woke up this morning, there was a box of books by the bed, with my name written on it. Anil got them for me. All of the Harry Potters. I picked this one ‘cause I like the picture on the front.”
“And you can actually read and understand it?”
“Mom, I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were stupid. In fact, you’re insanely smart. Almost too smart. But you’re also only five, nugget.  A five year old being able to read that well?”
“You and daddy always read to me, even when I was a baby.  I remember how you guys always made me repeat words, even when I was small. They’re in my brain and I recognize them when I see them and remember them. That’s how my brain works. I know what things say and I know what they mean. Is that weird?”
“Not weird. Just...I don’t know...just...wow.”
“Daddy said next time we’re in town, I can get The Hobbit. And then maybe Lord of the Rings for my birthday.”
“Can you read me some of Harry Potter?”
Tanner frowns. “You think I’m lying? I’m not making it up. I CAN read it.”
“Just humour me. Pick a random page and read me a bit of it, okay?”
“Alright…” he huffs dramatically, then grabs a leaf off the grass to use a bookmark before flipping to a different place in the book. “Now? Start now?”
Esme nods. “Just pick something. Anything”
“Okay…”   one of his fingers rests on the page, the tip slowly following each word. “...it is a strange thing, but when you are dreading something and would give anything to slow down time, it has a ….” he pauses, frowning up at her. “I don’t know how to pronounce that word.”
She peers down at. “Disobliging.”
“...it has a disobliging habit of speeding up.”
Esme’s eyes widen.
“What? What’s wrong, mom? What did I do? Was that wrong?”
“No. It was right. Every word of it. I just...I don’t know...I think maybe daddy and I need to talk about sending you to a different school.”
“One for smart kids? ‘Cause no offence to any of the other kids, but they’re all stupid. I know how to read words like ‘cat’ and ‘dog’ and ‘ball’ and I can write sentences with those words in it. With my eyes closed! I know my full name, my address, my phone number. I even know daddy’s full name and his cell number and when he was born; day, date, and year. I  even know how to tie my own shoes. A lot of those kids don’t do that stuff. Not even TJ knows how. Why can’t I be in a bigger kid class? Where the work is harder?”
“I don’t know if that’s allowed.”
“What? The school doesn’t like smart kids or something? It’s so boring there. I could stay home and you and daddy can teach me. You guys are both smart. You went to college.”
“I don’t think either of us can give you what you really need,” she admits. “Learning wise. But we’ll talk about; daddy and I. Okay?”
Tanner nods, then flips back to the page he’d been engrossed in when she’d interrupted him. “Hermione’s my favourite,” he says. “I read it for her mostly. I don’t care much for Ron or Harry. I think they’re whiners. Who’s your favourite?”
“I don’t have one. I’ve never read them.”
“What?” He looks mortified at the mere suggestion. “You’re how old and you’ve never read Harry Potter? That’s shameful mom. Maybe daddy’s read them.”
“I highly doubt your dad has read Harry Potter. He’s not really into that kind of stuff.”
“Daddy’s into cool guy stuff. Like UFC and football and beating people up.”
“Well he doesn’t necessarily LIKE beating them up. Sometimes he doesn’t have a choice.”
“He kills people sometimes too.”
Esme nods. “Sometimes.”
“Is he going to hell for doing it?” Tanner inquires. “For killing people? Isn’t killing people bad?”
“Most of the time it is.”
“But they deserve it, yeah? The people daddy kills? They deserve it?”
“Why are you talking about this? You’re five.”
“I’m not a dumb little kid. I know what daddy does; I know what his job is. I do hear people talking, you know. I know he gets paid to hurt people. I know he gets money to kill them. I know he’s a mercenary.”
Esme scowls. “How do you even know that word?”
“I hear things. And they stay in my brain. I don’t care, that's what he does. It’s just his job, it’s not who he is. He’s daddy. That’s all that matters. That when he’s with me, he’s just my dad. He only hurts bad people. He wouldn’t hurt me.”
“That’s the last thing he’d ever do. Hurt you.”
“I know. And I know he won’t let anyone else hurt me either. I feel safe when I’m with him. Because he’s big and strong and I know he’d protect me no matter what. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt me.”
“No. He definitely wouldn’t.”
Tanner sighs heavily. “I really hope he’s not dead.”
“What? Why would you even say that?”
“He hasn’t called in two days. Daddy always calls. ALWAYS. Right before bed. But two days and no calls. What if the bad guys got him?”  He draws in a shaky breath as tears well in his eyes. “What if he’s dead and I never get to see him again?”
“Your dad is NOT dead.”
“What if he’s gone and I never get to hug him or his voice again? Or I never get to apologize for all the times I was bad and made him angry.”
“Tanner...oh my goodness…nugget…” she reaches out to brush his hair from his eyes. “Tanner...what in the world goes in that head of yours, baby boy?”
“I don’t  mean to be bad. I don’t make daddy mad. I don’t mean to make him yell sometimes. I don’t mean to make him hate me.”
“Okay, first of all…”  shes gives an appreciative smile to one of the other caregivers that rushes over when she sees Tanner in distress; taking Addie and giving Esme the freedom to scoop the now sobbing five year old into her arms. Cuddling him as she would a baby; across her body with one arm under the back of her legs, the other around his shoulders. “...daddy could never...EVER...hate you. He loves you. More than anything else in the world. He always has and he always will. Just because he gets mad and yells, doesn’t mean he hates you. And how often does he actually get mad and yell?”
“Not much.”
“It takes A LOT to get daddy THAT mad. And even if he does get angry, he still loves you. And it’s really not you he’s upset with. He’s just frustrated more than anything. And sometimes, that frustration isn’t even about you. It’s about him. He’s frustrated with himself. Because he struggles and it makes him sad and angry with himself and unfortunately, it gets taken out on your guys. Or me. Do you remember what I told you? About daddy’s brain?”
Tanner nods. “That it hurts. That it’s sad and in pain.”
“Well he’s working very hard at making his brain better. And the doctor is helping him and I’m helping him. And so are you guys. Because it’s you and your brothers and your sisters that make him the happiest?”
“Can’t he take some medicine to get better?”
“It’s not that easy. But he IS working on it. He works on it every day. And he’s tough and he’s strong but sometimes he needs help. He needs us to help him. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
The five year old nods.
“Daddy always loves you. He could never hate you. He helped make you. You’re part of him. You’re part of his new life; his second chance. There is no way he could ever hate you.  Could you ever hate him?”
“Never,” he sniffles. “I love him too much.”
“Well that’s how he feels about you. And no. He’s not dead.”
“How do you know?”
“I would know. Trust me. He’s just busy, nugget.  He’s got a lot going on. A lot on his mind and a lot to do.”
“He’s too busy to call us?”
“Sometimes he has to go places where he can’t use his phone. Where it’s not safe to call. But he will when he can. But he’s not dead. I promise.”
“I hope you’re right, mommy. ‘Cause I’d miss him. So much. I’d miss his face and his voice and smile and the way he tucks me in. And the way he always teases me about being so short. I get mad when other people do it, but not when daddy does it. It’s funny when daddy does it.”
“Well he makes fun of me for being short, too. I always tell him he's just ridiculously tall and has ridiculously big feet.”
“He DOES have really big feet,” Tanner declares, then giggles. “And his hand is bigger than my whole head, I swear. I bet he could kill someone with one punch. Do you think he could? Do you think he could break the guy at the grocery store in half?”
“What?” Esme laughs. “What guy at the grocery store?”
“The one that touched your bum. That guy with the weird hair and the Mustang. Do you think daddy could break him in half?”
“Well maybe not literally. But he could definitely hurt him pretty bad.”
“Could he kill him?”
“What is this obsession with your dad killing people?”
“I’m just curious. I wanna know how he killed someone with a garden rake. How is that possible?”
“I don’t know,” she says, as she combs her fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t there. I just know he did it. I don’t need the details.”
“And it was two people, yeah? How? I don’t understand it. I’ll have to ask him.���
Esme laughs. “You can ask, but I don’t he’s going to tell you.”
“Because you’ll tell him NOT to tell me.”
“Exactly. You need to know the details. Not with that kind of stuff.” She presses a series of kisses to his forehead, then his tears away with gentle fingertips. “Want some lunch?”
“I could eat. Can we have normal food? Like our normal? I miss our stuff.”
“I’ll see what’s in the kitchen and we’ll go from there.”
“Can I help? I wanna help.  Remember when I used to always help you when it was just me, you, Millie and TJ? When daddy didn’t live with us for a bit? I was little but I still helped.”
“You were a big help,” she praises. “You used to love to fold laundry.”
“And you used to wrap me in the warm towels from the dryer. I liked when you did that. And I used to bring you tissues when you were sad and you would cry. Do you remember that?”
“I do,” she presses a kiss to his cheek. “You were like a knight in shining armour.”
“I slept with you all the time when you were lonely. Because you missed daddy even if you were really mad at him and didn’t want him around.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want him around. I just…”
“I know why he wasn’t there. Why he had to leave. It’s okay, mommy. I don’t blame you. Daddy wasn’t daddy. And it made me sad. I didn’t like him very much. He was really mean. He yelled a lot. Especially at you. I didn’t like it. I wanted to punch him in the face.”
“My little protector.” She kisses his cheek once more, then tousles his hair. “You know too much for someone so small.”
He pouts. “I’m not small.”
“Yes, you are.” She nuzzles the tip of her nose against his temple. “And you always will be to me.”
***
It’s shortly before one in the afternoon when Tyler  arrives; stepping out of the chauffeured car provided by Anil. Eyes surveying  the enormous white stucco ‘Spanish hacienda’ inspired home;  immaculately kept lawns and gardens and an elaborate marble and gold fountain in the middle of the circular interlocking brick driveway. By normal standards, Mahajan’s had been lavish and large; sleek and modern, sparsely furnished and feeling cold and empty. Anil’s is unlike anything he’s ever seen;  the gigantic home somehow welcoming with its turquoise colored front door and matching shutters on every window. The grounds are equally sprawling; everything well maintained and expertly manicured; gardens bursting with various types of flowers in a wide variety of colors. Not the kind of place that you’d expect someone ex military to reside in. Hell, even his own home is far beyond anything he could have ever dreamt about or hoped for. The five million from the IRA making it possible to afford a place like that, and with Anil’s generous initial offer and the constant flow of money going into the bank, he won’t ever have to worry about living expenses ever again. No more lying awake at night wondering how the hell he was going to pay a mortgage and all the bills, never mind how he’d put clothes on his kids’ backs and food in their bellies.
He shrugs a simple black backpack onto his left shoulder, the simple movement causing him to wince to when the fabric of his shirt presses and rubs against his upper arms. The injuries are noticeable now, and far worse than he’d expected them to be; the knees that had pressed into his biceps leaving purple and black bruises that he can feel  right down to the bone. In a futile attempt to spare his kids the sight of the worst of the damage, he’d worn a long sleeve shirt to hide the marks, only to find that even the softest and smoothest of fabrics and the smallest of touches irritate his arms. His right is in a sling; forearm immobile across his chest, the shoulder long popped back into place yet still relatively useless and needing support. And his throat still throbs; rows of visible finger marks  and solid area where a forearm had been placed against his neck in hopes of holding him still or rendering him unconscious.
It’s an all over body ache like   he’s never experienced before; pain that seems to travel right to his very core, settling in and gnawing incessantly. Thankfully the after effects of the drug he’d been injected with have almost disappeared; only hampered by moments of temporary memory loss, confusion, and brief episodes of dizziness.  He’d slept for two days. Only waking long enough to make trips to the bathroom and to get as much liquid into him as possible. No energy for anything beyond that. Battling crushing fatigue and an incessant migraine that saw the need for the curtains to be tightly drawn and all lights and television turned off at all times.
As much as he wants to be in on the action and feel useful  to the team, the fact remains that right now, he’s anything but.  Knee still throbbing and limp much more pronounced, a store bought brace doing little to immobilize it or help alleviate some of the pain. He’s able to use his right hand, but has very limited movement in the shoulder itself, making even the smallest of tasks like dressing himself almost impossible. Deep bruises travel along the small of his back and into both kidney areas; the physician Anil had brought in the day after the attack believing the bruising most likely affects the organs as well. Each piece of damage already done to a broken and tattered body making him the weakest link and forcing him to step back for a couple of days. And for once he’d been relieved at the thought of being benched until the doctor declared him ‘medically fit’ to get back into the thick of things. And when Anil had assured him that the team would be fine without him and told him to take the next forty eight hours to spend with his family, he hadn’t stuck around long enough to question the decision.
One of the armed guards leads him to the backyard, and he can hear the kids before he sees them; their excited chattering, squealing, and giggling accompanied the sound of splashing water and Kyle’s deep, calm voice. And it’s his brother in law that sees him first; giving him a broad smile and a nod in greeting, then whispering something in Millie’s ear as she clings to his neck. Her wet hair sticks to the sides of her face and her forehead when she glances over her shoulder; eyes immediately sparkling and a bright, wide smile spreading across her face.
“Daddy!” She shrieks, and abandons holding onto Kyle’s neck in favour of a frantic doggy paddle that takes her to the nearest ladder.  “Daddy!”
Tyler had promised himself that he couldn’t crack. That he wouldn’t allow his tattered and fragile emotions get the better of him. His kids don’t need to see that; him bursting into tears and having a complete emotional meltdown. But he’d come so close...so fucking close...to never seeing them again. To never hearing their voices or feeling their hugs. To never seeing them grow up. And it’s impossible to completely hold back the desperation and relief; his throat feeling incredibly tight and tears burning his eyes as he manages to drop down to one knee as his daughter comes rushing towards him.
“Daddy!” Millie throws both arms around his neck, body drenched from the pool. “You’re here early! Mommy said you wouldn’t be here for a couple of days! But you’re already here!”
“I was able to get things done early.” Tyler explains. “Thought I’d show up and surprise you guys. What’s going on? You having a good time?”
“There’s lots of stuff to do here. Lots of cool stuff. But I still miss you. I wish you were here to do cool stuff WITH us.”
“I’ve got two days to spend with you guys. We can do all kinds of cool stuff.”
“Two whole days?”
He nods.
“Daddy gets to spend two whole days with us, Tyler,” she says to her younger brother, as he practically shoves her out of the way to get to his father. Another set of arms wrapping his neck; a second wet body pressed up against him.  None of that matters. The dampness of his clothes, the wet hair against his skin, the smell of chlorine. The only thing that matters is the press of those tiny bodies against his, the sound of their voices, and the smiles on their faces and the tears in their eyes.
“What happened?” Millie gingerly touches his shoulder. “You hurt it? Again?”
“Just banged it up a little. I need to keep it in this thing for a couple of days. It’s nothing serious. Hey…” he lays a hand on the back of her head and presses a kiss to her brow. “...it’s okay. Don’t cry. I’m fine. I’m here, right?”
She nods, valiantly holding back a flood of tears as her gentle and curious fingertips trace the bruises on his neck. “A bad guy did this to you?”
“A very bad guy.”
“Did you kill him? ‘Cause he hurt you? Did you kill him?”
“Don’t cry, Millie,” TJ implores, perched upon his dad’s thigh, an arm still around his neck. “Daddy’s fine. He came to visit. That means the bad guy lost. That daddy was stronger and meaner than the other guy was. He’s alive, right? No bad guy’s ever gonna kill daddy. He’s too strong and too smart.”
“Does it hurt?” Her voice cracks as she continues her exploration.
“A little. The other guy looks worse.”
“How come?” TJ asks. “Is he dead? Please tell me he’s dead. ‘Cause that’s what he gets for messing with you.”
“How about we NOT talk about killing people?” Tyler suggests, and accepts the hand that Kyle offers; able to pull himself to his feet without too much or the dizziness setting in.
“You look like you’ve been to war and back again,” Kyle remarks, then hands over Declan’s small yet solid and strong body, wrapped in a towel.
“Feels I’ve been to hell and back.” he admits, and runs a hand over his son’s damp hair and places a long, gentle kiss to his forehead.
“Well if you look like that but you’re here, I take it the other guy is in a body bag.”
Tyler nods in confirmation, then lets TJ and Millie pull him towards the house via the side pockets on his cargos; talking over each other as they prattle on about the home theatre and the playground and the animals and all of the things they can’t wait to show him.
“How close did it come?” Kyle asks. “To you NOT being here?”
“Too close for comfort, that’s for sure. Needed to get away for a couple of days; clear my head. Figured this was the best place to do it.”
“Only place that matters,” Kyle reasons. “Things were starting to get a little tense around here. Wasn’t too bad when you didn’t call the first day, but when you missed the second? I thought my sister was going to have a mental breakdown. Then I see this…” he nods in the direction of Tyler’s injured shoulder. “...they didn’t get a hold of you, did they?”
“I’d look a lot worse if they did. And I definitely wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Tyler...oh my God…” The patio door slams shut behind Esme as she rushes out of the house in her bare feet, and he barely has time to pass Declan to his brother in law before she’s tossing her arms around his neck; her position on edge of the deck making them nearly the same height. Careful not to embrace him too enthusiastically; mindful of the injured shoulder, feeling the press of his immobile forearm against her. “...oh my God…” her hands are in the hair at the back of his head, fingers pressing into his scalp. And he can feel the way her body trembles against his and her tears against the side of her neck, not even trying to hold it in. Audible sobs of relief that have her shaking. And Kyle whisks Millie and TJ away; sparing the kids the sight of their emotionally fragile parents and giving them some sense of privacy. “...I was worried sick about you. Where the hell have you been?”
“It’s a long story.” He manages to hold back in his own tears, but the relief is evident in his voice. “I should have called. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“I thought something happened to you. That they got a hold of you. And neither Yaz or Koen or Ovi would tell me anything but I could tell something was wrong. I figured it couldn’t be too bad if they weren’t showing up to tell me you’re dead. Are you okay?   Both hands are still in his hair when she pulls back to look at him. “Jesus Christ, what happened?”
“Not right now, okay?” He rubs the small of her back, then covers her lips with his in a long, slow kiss. “Later. When the kids are in bed. I don’t want them hearing them. I don’t even want YOU hearing it.”
“This goes way beyond someone just jumping you, doesn’t it.”
Tyler nods.
“What the fuck happened?” Gentle fingertips travel over the top of his shoulder and onto the side of his neck. “Never mind that. HOW the fuck did it happen? I don’t understand how someone could get THAT close to you? How…?”
His hand moves to the side of her face and he silences her with another kiss. Longer this time. Deeper. Harder. It’s desperate and it’s needy; fuelled by the realization that he comes so goddamn close to never getting a moment like this again. IF they’d managed to get a hold of him, he would have spent days, weeks, even months, being put through unbelievable agony and torture. Knowing his family was still out there; completely vulnerable without him to protect them. And he knows that Mahajan would have not only  let Esme know that he was still alive, but he would have made sure she knew exactly what was being done to him. With no hope of him ever surviving it.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.”  Her voice is just shy of a whisper as she embraces him tightly, and she presses her lips against the side of his neck. “That you’re okay and you're here and I don't have to worry about you anymore. How long can you say? Overnight?”
“Couple days.”
“That’s more than I thought,” she sniffles. “I’ll take it.”
“It’s okay now,” Tyler places a kiss on her temple. “I’m here. Everything’s okay now,”
“It’s so far from okay. I’M so far from okay. But you’re alive and you’re in one piece and that’s all that matters right now. I was so scared, Tyler. I was so fucking scared.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you, baby. That’s the last thing I wanted. It was out of my control. Believe me when I say that..”
“I do. I do believe you. I just…” she pulls away once again and takes his face in her hands. “...I’m just so happy to see your stupidly handsome face.”
He gives a small chuckle and pecks her lips. “Where’s the baby? And Tanner?”
“They’re both napping.  Tanner had a rough night. He’s having a hard time. And we really need to have a talk about him. About how smart he is. I can’t wrap my head around just HOW smart.”
“We’ll talk about it.”
“Go and see him,” she urges. “He’s in the living room. On the couch. He’s going to be so happy to see you. I’M so happy. And relieved. So fucking relieved.”
“It’s alright, Esme. I’m here.” He kisses her once more, then pulls her tightly against him with his one good arm. “I’m here.”
*****
Tyler spends a half an hour standing at the side of Addie’s crib. Watching her as she sleeps and reaching out to gingerly remove the soother than dangles precariously from her lips. The hand is soft and gentle that he lays against her hair; palm cupping the back of her head, thumb brushing repeatedly over her ear and then along the top of her cheek. And it’s then that he allows the tears to come. In that still, quiet room with the breeze fluttering the curtains and Addie’s tiny body rising and falling with each slow, steady breath. The enormity of what happened...what COULD have happen...finally hitting him. It’s the closest he’s been to death in nearly seven years. Had Farhad been successful at his attempt on the bridge and had Esme NOT been there to save him, his death would have been relatively quick; bleeding out in minutes and likely losing consciousness from shock before that happened. If his assailant had gotten a hold of him, death would have eluded him. At least until Mahajan felt he had learned his lesson.
He almost didn’t get this chance. The opportunity to see his infant daughter again. To see the way those long, dark eyelashes brush against the tops of her cheeks or how those soft, pink lips as if suckling from a bottle. To hear her soft breaths and the little murmurs and sighs. He’d come within minutes...maybe even seconds...of never experiencing her first birthday or seeing her take her first steps or hearing her call him daddy for the first time. It’s a sound -an experience- that always brings tears to his eyes and takes his breath away; the moment each of his children looked at him and smiled and finally knew exactly who he was and what to call him. Nothing on earth can possibly come close to that feeling.
He leaves her to sleep. Pressing the tips of two fingers to his lips before softly placing them against hers, then using a forearm to clear the tears from his face as he leaves the room.  He’d slept for two days yet he’s still so fucking tired; body feeling as if it’s on autopilot, as if he’s simply going trough the motions of living. And while it’s a tremendous relief to be with his family and it was desperately needed, he hates that the sabbatical has been forced upon him. That some fucking asshole hired by Mahajan had not only gotten that close to him, but had been able to inflict the damage he had. It makes Tyler question everything; his confidence, his abilities, his skills. Whether or not he’s reached the end of the line. Forty is considered relatively old and washed up as far as mercenaries are concerned. And even without his underlying health issues, he can’t help but wonder if the attack is a sign that he’s lost his age and it’s time to let go. To leave field work behind him and just concentrate on running things in the background.
Tanner is still fast asleep on the couch; flat on his stomach with both arms wrapped around a throw pillow and a pout curving his lips.  And he groans and grimaces as he kneels alongside his son, combing his fingers through his hair and pushing the wayward locks off his forehead; palm against his cheek, thumb brushing along the slope of his nose. And it isn’t until he leans in to press a kiss to his temple that Tanner stirs; giving a long, almost sad sigh and his eyes opening slightly.
“Daddy?” He breathes.
“Hey,” Tyler gives a soft, comforting smile. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“Am I dreaming?”
“No, mate. You’re not dreaming. I’m really here.”
Those big blue eyes slowly widen; tears filling them, lower lip and chin quivering. “Daddy…” it comes out as a choked sob. “...you’re here...you’re okay...I was so worried about you. I was scared you were dead.”
“Well I’m not.” He lays a hand on the back of Tanner’s head and presses his lips to his brow, then his temple as those tiny arms circle his neck. “I’m here. With you.”
“You didn’t call. For two days! It scared me. I got worried. I thought the bad guys got you.”
“I’m sorry, Tanner. I didn’t mean to scare you. That’s the last thing I wanted to do.  Things got a little crazy and I couldn’t get to my phone.  I  am so sorry, mate. You forgive me?”
Tanner nods. “I was dreaming about you.”
“You were? What were you dreaming about?”
“We went to Disney World. Remember how you said we could go when I was old enough? And that we could go on rides together? Do you remember?”
“I remember.”
“That's what it was about. Going there and going on rides. And eating lots of joke food. And watching the fireworks. You let me sit on your shoulders. I like when you let me do that. Maybe we can go soon to Disney World?”
“Maybe. I’d have to talk to your mom about it.”
“You got hurt?”
“A little.”
“The bad people hurt you?”
“Just a bit.”
“What did you do to them? Did you hurt them back?”
Tyler nods.
“Did you kill them?”
“Yeah,” he admits. “I did.”
“Does it make you sad? To kill people?”
“Sometimes, I guess.”
“Why? If they deserve it, why would you be sad?”
“It isn’t an easy thing to do. Even when they do deserve it.”
“Don’t be sad about it, daddy. You kill people so you can come home and see us. That’s why you do it, right?”
Tyler nods, swallowing around the painful lump of emotional sitting in his throat, tears sparkling in his eyes.  Feeling regretful. Ashamed. Embarrassed of the person he’s become and the things he’s resorted to. The damage that his own hands have been able to inflict. The pain. The torture. The death.
“I don’t care if that's what you do,” Tanner continues. “For your job.  I don’t care if you kill people. They're not good people. But YOU are. Only good people help. Only good people fight back. That’s what you always TJ when he fights the bullies at school. You said that good people always stick for people who can’t stick up for themselves. And that’s what you do, right? You help people who can’t do it themselves.”
“I guess that’s  part of it. There’s so much more to it, though.”
“I don’t care what you have to do. Just as long as you come back. That’s all that matters. I don’t care what you have to do when you’re gone. As long as you’re daddy when you come home.”
He sniffles loudly and wipes away the tears that manage to escape. “You…” he presses a kiss to Tanner’s forehead. “...are way too pure and perfect for this world, you know that? This world doesn’t deserve someone like you.”
“Did you get to say? Overnight?”
“I get to stay for TWO nights.”
His entire face brightens. “Really?”
“Really,” Tyler confirms.
“We can do things together?”
“Yup. But I just gotta be careful with my shoulder. And my knee. It’s kinda messed up too.”
“Maybe you’re getting too old to fight the bad people.”
Tyler frowns. “Excuse you? How old do you think I am?”
“Uncle Koen said you used to ride a dinosaur to school.”
“He did, did he?”
Tanner nods.
“Remind me to flush the toilet the next Uncle Koen is in the shower.”
Tanner giggles. “That’s savage, daddy.”
“You want to come outside with me? So I can’t spend some time with everyone? Wanna show me the animals?”
Tanner nods enthusiastically, then tightens his hold around his father’s neck when he tries to stand. “I love you, daddy. I’m sorry for the times I made you mad and I made you yell. That you hated me.”
“Mate, I could never…ever...hate you. You’re my son. I helped your mom make you. No way I could ever hate you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way. For ever yelling at you. I shouldn’t do that. You forgive me?”
“Of course I do. You’re my dad.”
“I love you, Tanner,” Tyler wraps an around his son’s tiny frame and draws him tightly into him; eyes closed and his chin resting on the top of the five year old’s head. “You have no idea how much.”
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hearteyesmarsh · 5 years ago
Text
Take Me to Church
summary: Some part of Richie knows that no amount of prayer can change things, but at least he can try 
pairing: stozier 
warning: internalized homophobia, kinda angsty
word count: 2k
a/n: omg the way this fic dragged me through the mud with how many times i had to rewrite it is insane...but i hope you like it <3
Richie knew that it was wrong...he knew that these feelings were disgusting. No matter how many times his parents or friends told him that they weren’t. The voices in his head were louder than his friends and family could ever be.
This is why as soon as he realized he had feelings for his best friend, he ran home and prayed. He fell to his knees and prayed for God to take these sinful, nasty feelings away. He didn’t want to be a sinner, he didn’t want to go to Hell. So, he prayed all night long until his parents found him in the morning. 
He went to church every time there was a service. He stayed behind after every service to pray at the altar. He went to the priests and asked them to pray over him, help him become holy again, help cleanse his soul. He wanted more than anything to be clean again.
He avoided Stan with everything in him; he stopped sitting with the losers at lunch, stopped hanging with them after school, he even took a different, longer route to his classes to avoid bumping into him. He thought that maybe if he didn’t talk to him he couldn’t keep the feelings. That's how it works, right?
Stan had never been so confused in his life. Why was his best friend, the boy he had known since he was five, avoiding him like his life depended on it?
Well in Richie’s eyes, his life did depend on it. He was too scared to spend an eternity in Hell, that place was for dirty sinners and he was not a sinner. 
Stan’s worry and curiosity got the better of him. He knew that it probably wasn't the smartest idea but he had to make sure Richie was okay. 
So that day after school, he went to the Tozier residence and knocked exactly three times on the door. He counted exactly 33 seconds and held his hand up to knock again but Maggie Tozier opened the door, worry evident on her face.
“Hey, Stanley…” She smiles, her eyes softening when she sees Stan. “Are you here to see Richie?”
Stan nods, his heart in his throat “Yes ma'am… I just want to make sure he’s okay.” His voice is wavy and unsure and as soon as he hears it he wants to say forget it and go back home.
Maggie pauses, pursing her lips to the side. “I’m sorry, Stan, but you just missed him. He came in the house for a split second to put his backpack down then he left.” She already knew where her son went, the same place he had been going after school for the past two months. She considered telling Stan where he went but hesitated, wondering if it would only make Richie feel worse.
She knew all about her son's internalized homophobia. She heard him as he prayed all night, she noticed how quickly he would change the subject if she or Wentworth brought up his group of friends. She especially noticed how he flinched something terrible if he saw a gay couple holding hands as they walked down the street, it didn’t take her long to figure out what was going on in. Sometimes she wished she could just flick the side of his head and send the thoughts flying out of the other. 
Stan frowns. “Oh okay, thank you, Mrs. Tozier,” he does a sharp turn on his heel after Maggie gives him a soft hum and shuts the door.  “Where in the world is Richie Tozier?’ is the question Stan wants to ask, but he has a feeling he already knows the answer. 
One short bike ride later and Stan is standing in front of what he’s sure is the oldest building in Derry, Saint Peter Catholic Church. He sets his bike on its kickstand and slowly walks to the large, red doors. A small part of him is hoping that his feeling is wrong and he’s not gonna see Richie at the altar. He peeks his head through the door and scans the awfully large sanctuary. His grip on the door tightens when he sees a familiar set of unruly curls. He steps inside completely and he can’t help but to shut and open the door two more times, cringing at the loud creaking noise. He takes a deep breath and slowly walks down the aisle until he’s standing beside the crouched boy.
He debates if he should sit on the ground, only the lord knows the last time it was cleaned, but decides his friend is more important than getting his khaki shorts dirty. Stan falls to his knees and turns his head to look at Richie. He just sits for a couple of minutes, listening to the mumbled words fall from Richie’s mouth. His throat is dry and his heart is aching as he ponders if he should say anything. He swallows hard and looks straight ahead, eyes glancing over the stained glass portraits of the Catholic saints. “Richie?” He questions, his voice shaking.  
Richie’s heart drops in his chest when he hears the voice, but he should’ve known who it was. Who else would open and close the door three times? He doesn’t look at Stan, he can’t or he’ll be hooked all over again.
Stan sighs. “Richie, I want to help you. I can't help you if you don’t help me though. Can you tell me what's wrong?” He knew what was wrong, he knew what was wrong as soon as he walked into the room and saw Richie praying. 
He had been in that situation before. He remembers how he would read his Torah ten times a month. He remembers asking YHWH to forgive him for his transgressions.  He remembers feeling disgusting and those days when he couldn’t even look in the mirror. Eventually, he came to terms with himself. He knew that he wasn’t disgusting and he wasn't abnormal. He was Stan a gay, Jewish boy, and that was perfectly fine.
When Richie still hasn’t answered, Stan decides to fill the silence. “I’ve been in your shoes, Rich, it’s nothing wrong with being gay. You are not disgusting and you are not going to Hell.” 
Richie knows that Stan is right, but a part of him can’t believe him. He had been taught his whole life that homosexuality was a sin, why would that change now? 
“I get it, Rich, I really do,” Stan whispers, now turning to face Richie completely. He carefully takes Richie’s clasped hands and pulls them towards his chest. “It’s hard accepting yourself after being told your whole life that you’re a sin after you’ve only heard one thing you’re whole life and that ‘gay people are going to Hell.’ But that's not true, its nothing...absolutely nothing wrong with being gay.” Stan sees how Richie's body is slowly relaxing, so he continues. “The people in this town are close minded and ignorant if anything they’re in the wrong. You’re an incredibly sweet, caring person. You’re not going to hell because you like boys and you may not believe me, but it's true.”
Stan’s speech seems to work because it gets Richie to finally look at Stan, finally look at the boy he was slowly falling in love with. As soon as Richie’s eyes meet Stan’s he feels the world fall apart around him and he finds himself crying-no sobbing. “I don’t want to be dirty anymore, Stan. I'm not a sinner! I’m not!” 
Stan instantly pulls him into his arms, running his fingers through his hair. “I know you’re not Richie, I know you’re not. You’re gonna be okay, maybe not today, but you’ll be okay.” Stan whispers, and he knows that’s all he can do right now. 
Stan doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting here but he knows his legs have fallen asleep and his wrist is cramping up from constantly running his hand up and down Richie’s back. He tries his best to comfort the older boy, but he knows that it probably isn’t doing any good. Stan is terrified that someone is going to walk in on them, he knows that the reaction to one boy crying in the arms of another isn’t pretty. “Richie,” Stan sighs, gently pushing Richie’s face back so they’re eye to eye. “Please talk to me, I’m not here to judge you. I just want to help,” he uses the pad of his thumbs to wipe Richie’s wet cheeks. 
Richie hiccups and it takes everything in him not to push Stan away, run away, and never look back. He knows that he won’t get anything out of it except more pain. “Help me, Stan, please. I just wanna be okay again,” Richie pleads, his heart is racing and he has an impossibly tight grip on Stan’s wrists. “Why do I feel these things, how do I know if I’m…..” Richie trails off, and Stan can hear him gulp. “Gay,” the word feels like acid in his mouth. “You felt like this too, right? How did you get over it? How did you get them to stop?  ”
Stan shakes his head. He had told Richie that maybe he liked this boy in their history class, but quickly retracted the statement and started dating Patty Blum in their algebra class to prove that he didn’t like boys. “I- the feelings never went away Richie, they’ll never go away. They only get stronger.” He watches Richie’s face pale. “It’s not a bad thing, you get used to it eventually. It just takes some time...and support.” He remembers crying to his mom as she comforted him, reminding him that she will always love him no matter what. 
“How did you know Stan? Who was it?” Richie starts shaking again, his mind and heart racing as if they were trying to win a race. How should he be handling this situation? Should he let his emotions lead him or should he try to stay logical and do what he was taught is right? He stares Stan in his face and when he sees the tears building behind his eyes, he’s instantly taken aback. The most put together, stoic person he knows was sitting in front of him about to cry, and that scared him more than any feeling could. 
“It was um-” Stan stops, how smart would it be to tell Richie that he was the reason Stan knew he liked boys? He racks his brain for an answer, an excuse to give Richie that would satisfy the both of them. “It was Mike, Mike is how I knew.” A couple of seconds pass and Stan gets nervous, did Richie not accept his answer? Or maybe it was a trick question and Richie already knew it was him. 
Richie instantly knows that it's a lie, Stan is too sure of himself to stutter in any situation. “Stan, please don’t lie to me. I need to know.” Richie’s eyes are wide and pleading. A part of him feels like he knows the answer already and a part of him is praying that he’s wrong because then it becomes real and Richie isn’t sure he can handle that right now. 
Stan looks everywhere but Richie’s face, specifically upwards hoping that the tears will fall back into his eyes. His breathing picks up and he swallows hard. “It was you Richie, it was always you,” Stan whispers, finally looking Richie in his eyes. He can feel the tears running down his face and he starts to wonder why Richie couldn’t just leave it alone.
“Are you sure?” Richie responds, his throat tight and he can feel the tears start back up again. 
Stan nods, unsure how it would help Richie in any way, shape, or form. He isn’t left wondering for long because Richie smashes his lips against his. It's a messy, teeth clattering kiss but Stan wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Richie lets go on Stan’s wrist and moves his hands to Stan’s soft, curly hair, pulling him impossibly closer. How ironic of Richie to be kissing the boy in the church where he was just praying for God to get this boy out of his head. He knows how complicated things are gonna be when they pull apart, but in the moment he thinks that there can’t be anything wrong with something that feels so right.
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zi-i-think · 4 years ago
Text
13 | Shame and Guilt
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Pairing: Zuko x Ama (OC)
Word Count: 4600+
.☽☼☾.
~ Ama ☾ ~
         "We're pushing back the wedding." Katara firmly said. After calming down and letting everything process from last night, she went from being quiet and frightened, to loud and furious.
         "Is that really the best way to go about this?" Aang tried to rationalize with his fiancé. He was definitely angry at Azula, but he still kept a cool head.
         "Azula just interrupted my bachelorette party and threatened Ama." She motioned her hand at me.
         "She threatened you." I corrected her. I'd been silent the entire conversation and let the others tell the story of how Azula crashed the party. But I couldn't let Katara pin me as the only victim here.
         I looked around the meeting room, since the living room was still being cleaned up. Seeing the faces of my longest friends and family. "She's threatening all of you to get to me." I tore my eyes away and got up. "It's best I just leave. You all can just enjoy the wedding without worrying about Azula and be safe without me here." The others immediately started to protest against my suggestion, but I ignored them all. Allowing for my feat to take to wherever it chose.
         My breathing was getting more rapid. Each time I closed my eyes, I'd picture Mulan's lifeless eyes. Then I'd blink again and see the cold eyes of her murderer. I just needed a moment. A moment to understand everything. A moment to let out my frustrations.
         Their killers was in my house. He looked right at me. And somehow, they were working with Azula, who also claimed responsibility for Mulan's death. And in some way, that I'm not understanding, was connected with Suh, who might not even be the real Suh and was instead her insane sister Leiza. And Azula's motive was that I beat her in a fight that happened roughly 7 years ago?! None of it made sense.
         I had absentmindedly brought myself to the training yard. My body knew better than my brain what I needed. There was still a line of human shaped dummies left out from the warriors training earlier.
         Perfect.
         I went over the the opposite side of the yard, shaking my arms to prepare to let out all of my frustrations. Widening my stance and holding my arms out next to me, I began to bend the water in the snow.
        I turned it into an ice spear and flung it at one of the dummies, hitting it in the chest. But it wasn't enough for me. I sent another ice spear to the next dummy. And then another. It turned into an endless stream of ice spears, one after the other sticking roughly into the hay-filled figures.
         In one final move, I bent an entire row of spears beside me. My hands were up to my chest, palms facing the targets. With a rough skip forward and pushing my arms out in front of me, and the ice spears flew forward, sticking into the fake heads. The poor dummies were pierced with multiple ice spears. Some in the chest, arms, neck. There wasn't a single body part left untouched.
         My breathing was fast as I tried to catch my breath and I felt beads of sweat dripping down my forehead, despite the freezing temperatures.
         "I was always told that I was the one with anger issues." Zuko's voice came from behind me.
         I sighed and turned my body to see him standing by one of the blue pillars. He still wore his more casual, warm attire, and his long hair fell perfectly on his shoulders. He looked a little unsure whether he should come over to me or if I should go over to him. I decided to make it easier for Zuko and walked over to him.
         My arms were crossed over my chest and I avoided any eye contact. "Did the others send you here to talk to me?" I grumbled the question and sat down on the wooden bench.
        Zuko took a seat next to me, leaning his elbows on his knees. "No, I just thought you could use a friend." He said sincerely. "You're picking at you nails again." I looked down, seeing that I was indeed picking at the dirt – that wasn't even there  – underneath my nails. A nervous habit I've had since a little girl. I immediately stopped and dropped my hands on my lap. "You know you can talk to me about anything."
         I nodded, moving aside some of my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. I figured the two of us would be here for a while and got comfortable, leaning on the backside of the bench and bringing one leg up, hugging it to keep it in place."Last night wasn't the first time I've seen the two men who attacked us."
         Zuko furrowed his eyebrows and glanced down, somewhat taken aback but that new piece of information. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"
         "Because..." My shoulders raised and I shook my head. "It's a... sensitive subject." Zuko stayed silent, leaving me room to either continue speaking or for anything else I needed. "Mulan didn't die because she was sick. She and three other friends were murdered by the same men who just broke in."
         My friend sat up, leaning back and crossed his arms. He looked puzzled, obviously. Not only did I tell a lie about Mulan's death, but I also failed to tell anyone about the rest of the Miraculous Bastards. "Why did you lie?"
         "Because I'm ashamed of myself." I answered truthfully, keeping my eyes focused into the distance to avoid seeing his reaction. "After they murdered them, I held so much anger and pain I didn't know what to do with it all. I eventually tracked them down... and I bloodbent them. I almost killed them." I paused, recalling that horrid night was not something I liked to think about, much less talk about. "I would have been a monster, just like them."
         "But you didn't." Zuko slid closer to me, our shoulders just barely grazed against each other.
         "No, Zuko." I said in frustration, letting my leg fall off the bench and shut my eyes tightly, a lame attempt to hold it tears of shame. "It's not that I almost did it. It's that I wanted to. I loved the feeling of being able to kill them right then and there." I clenched my jaw, my anger being direct to myself. "Even today, I wish I did it. And I hate myself for it."
         "Don't do that to yourself." Zuko's warm hand grabbed mine, and kept it on my thigh. I swear my heart skipped a beat when that happened. "The grief of losing someone can make people feel and do things they never thought they could. It's how you choose to better yourself that matters. Speaking from personal experience."
         A light smile tugged at my lips and I rested my head on his shoulder. "I was at the Eastern Air Temple for eight months trying to, I don't know, be more in touch with myself? Achieve peace? I just couldn't move on like nothing happened or come back to the South."
         "Did it work?"
         Did it? Being at the temple helped me come to terms with the deaths of my friends. But the guilt hadn't exactly all gone away. And then with the murderers coming back to haunt me, all of the negative feelings that I've been working of getting rid of were just coming right back.
         "In some ways more than others." I came to the conclusion out loud. "I think knowing that Azula is also involved, it's a little more aggravating."
         Zuko let out a long sigh, like he wasn't expecting for our little investigation to get this messy. Well, neither of us really expected for this to happen. "Don't forget about Suh. She's been a little more on edge lately." He reminded me.
         "Do you think it might be time that we told the others about Suh?" I asked. It was a valid question. There'd be more eyes on the woman, especially since there were threats made. The others deserved to know that there was a [possible] mole in our mists.
         "Pretty sure we have to at this point." He replied. I took my head off his shoulder and nodded slowly. It was a quiet for a moment. I don't think either of us wanted to go back inside yet. The cold air was tolerable, but Zuko's hand was still on mine, and I didn't really want to move.
         "You know, Zuko, I think you've gotten easier to talk to." I stated turning my head to look at him.
         Zuko chuckled with that damn smile that was as bright as the sun. "Well I hope so. I've been told my social skills have improved a lot over the last couple years." I nodded in agreement. He spoke more naturally than years ago when there was a slight hesitation in each action or choice of words. "I have to say, it seems easier to talk to you also."
         "Shit, is this what getting older is like?" I quipped, an intrigued smile on my face as I moved my body to face Zuko better. I tucked one leg under the other and my side leaned on the backside of the bench. "Aang and Katara are getting married. Soon it might be Sokka and Suki."
         "Mai and Kei Lo have also been going strong." Zuko added, pointing at me like he was reminding me. "I wouldn't be surprised if there was an engagement sometime soon." I smiled fondly and placed a hand over my heart.
         My nose scrunched up at a new thought. "And not long after kids." I giggled while Zuko shook his head with a chuckle.
         "One adventure after another." He was right there. "But if all kids are like Kiyi I'd be incredibly grateful." Wow. It honestly didn't feel like it's been years since Zuko found the other half of his family. I mean, Kiyi was 6 when we met her. Now she was 12.
         "I think you're forgetting about the baby part." I raised an eyebrow at him, getting a huff of a laugh. "Like the diapers and waking up in the middle of the night. You know, the nightmare parts."
         Zuko groaned and threw his head back. "That sounds like a wife problem." He joked.
         I scoffed and punched his shoulder. "I pity the woman who marries you."
         "Yeah, me too." He responded with a dismal and sort of sarcastic tone.
         My jaw dropped and I shook my head. "Oh-uh. I thought you were done with the self-depreciation."
         "I was just joking. I think I'd make a great husband." He cockily raised an eyebrow, like he was teasing me. "And the lucky woman would ideally be beautiful, smart, maybe a little bit competitive." Is he? Flirting? I wasn't really sure, after all. It's been a few years. Not to mention, Zuko's my ex. We had a sort of teasing relationship because of it. But the way he said that. It was kind of like he was directing it at me.
         "I hate you." I rolled my eyes and scoffed.
         "No you don't." Why does he do that?
         How did we even get to this point in the conversation? Marriage and babies? Now he's teasing me. He knows that he was making me flustered. He has to. I wasn't exactly good at hiding my emotions all that well. There must have been a light blush on my cheeks at the least.
         Zuko and I were looking right at each other. The silence was comfortable. I found myself looking over his golden eyes and then my eyes flickered to his pink, smirking lips. I gulped. On Tui, I hope I don't regret this.
         I leaned in quickly, placing my lips of Zuko's. And for a moment, I thought he was kissing me back. But he pulled away a moment later. "Ama..."
         I sucked in a breath and covered my mouth with my hand. "Spirits. I am so sorry." I'm most definitely blushing deeply at this point.
         "It's okay..."
         "I read the signs all wrong. I'm an idiot. I'm sorry." I completely ignored him and stood up from my seat. I was so ready to leave in embarrassment. "Let's just forget that I even did that-"
         I felt Zuko's hand grip my wrist and turning me around, but I covered my eyes with my other hand so that I wouldn't have to look at him. "You can uncover your eyes, Ama."
         "I'd prefer not to." My voice was small, one that I don't recognize all that much. It only came out when I was embarrassed or sad. And at the moment, I was probably both. Just mix in some self-hate.
         I heard his fruity voice chuckled lightly at me. "Then just listen when I say that I want to kiss you. It just doesn't feel right if I'm still with Suh."
         I removed my hand and gave him a puzzled look. "But you don't even like her."
         "That is true, but she's still under the impression that I do." He said matter-of-factly. "No matter how bad she might be, I can't do that to her."
         I was sort of taken aback. A small part of me didn't really care. Suh was so rude that it didn't matter to me how she would feel. Except this wasn't as much about Suh as it was about Zuko. He had his principles and morals; and he'd be damned if he strayed from them. "I can respect that." I nodded, but kept my gaze away from him.
         Zuko's hand reached to the side of my neck, his thumb skimmed on the curved of my jaw tenderly. He made me look up at him, instead of being fixated on a pillar in the distance. "But I promise you that once this is all taken care of, I will kiss you one hundred times to make up for it." His forehead leaned on mine. It was such a small gesture, but it left me longing for more of him.
         I bit my bottom lip lightly in a mixture of delight, nervousness, excitement, probably a few other emotions. I just felt like things were starting to fall into place. It's kind of funny considering only thirty minutes ago things felt completely opposite of that. "I'm going to have to remember that."
         Zuko grinned and then glanced at the palace entrance. "We should probably get back to the others." I nodded in agreement. "And maybe keep this between us." He motioned between the two of us.
         "Sounds boring, but alright."
         "I just think it might be a bit overwhelming to tell them that Suh is a spy and then that we'd be getting back together." Again, he had a point. But I knew that he was probably just trying to refrain from any teasing or feeling flustered.
         We headed back inside together, just standing a few feet apart to avoid any suspicions. The meeting room was much quieter than when I left, but still as tense. Everyone perked up once seeing the two of us enter the room.
         Katara muttered something to herself and stood from her seat to heartily walk over to me. "Spirits, Ama. You can't just walk away from us like that." She groaned, wrapping her arms around my shoulders to hug me.
         I hugged her back and rubbed her back soothingly. "Okay, sis. I appreciate the concern." Katara pulled away from me when I said that and gave me a weird, skeptical look. Probably because my mood had changed since I left.
         "Where's Suh?" Zuko wondered and I perked up. I turned, scanning the room. Everyone was seated at the rectangular table, except for Suh.
         "She left shortly after you did." Sokka half-cared, shrugging his crossed arms. "I think it was something about how all of this stress was going to make her breakout and needed to go on a walk."
         Zuko and I gave each other a side glance and then looked back at the group. Zuko sighed loudly and the two of us went over to our seats from earlier. "Yeah, we need to talk about Suh." he started.
         "I was right about her this entire time and she's a huge fucking bitch." I couldn't help but spill, lightly slamming my hands on the table. Katara groaned and rolled her eyes, tired of hearing me voice my opinions of her. And I could hear Ty Lee and Suki giggle from a few seats away.
         "Ama, how many times are we going to have to tell you. Suh is not evil." Katara sighed, shaking her head disappointedly.
         I sucked in breath out of frustration. "Okay, listen. Suh is a spy who has been working with Azula for years. And Suh probably isn't even her name. She killed her family and took her sister's identity. She's a master manipulator and liar."
         "Do you have any proof of this?" Aang asked with an unbelieving tone and a concerned look for me.
         I huffed and fell back into my seat before motion towards my –technically still– ex. "Zuko, you explain cause they all think I'm a liar." Everyone's eyes turned to the Fire Lord who was faintly shaking his head at me.
         Zuko leaned his arms on the table, prepared to explain the deal with Suh. "I have a theory that Suh has been working with Azula since the kemurikage incident. I've been keeping her close for the past couple months to try and find Azula." He turned to give Katara and Aang an apologetic look. "I never thought that it would lead Azula here. I'm sorry."
         "But the kemurikage incident was years ago." Aang pointed out. "Would they really work together for so long?"
         "Suh is a determined person. Whatever she wants she gets." Zuko informed. "There's a possibility that Suh's took her sister's identity, making her Leiza. Leiza was taken to the same mental institution as Azula with a severe obsessive personality. She's controlling, manipulative, calculating. She and Azula needed each other to each their goals."
         "So if Azula's goal was too get to Ama, what's Suh's?" Katara wondered.
         Zuko shook his head and shrugged. "My guess is to be Fire Queen. After all, I met her through the Council's matchmaking attempt."
         "Her obsession might be with you also." Mai added in her usual dry tone.
         "I don't think a person would go through that much trouble just to marry a guy they've never met." Suki disagreed with a questioning undertone.
         "Right, what would I know. It's not like I've been around the two for the past six months." Mai shot back sarcastically and then gave Zuko a deadpanned look. "She's been hanging off your shoulder since you two met and you said she's clinically diagnosed as obsessive. It's not that hard to piece together."
         "Or a mixture of both wanting to be Fire Queen and to be with Zuko." Ty Lee proposed the thought, her finger rested on her chin investigatively. "Either way, I can believe the theory of her working with Azula. Suh kept looking out the window before the attack and was quick to get us out of the way from the crash. I can't explain it, but it felt like Suh was trying to protect me last night."
         "There's one more thing." I sighed. "The attackers who were working with Azula were the same ones who killed Mulan and some of my other friends."
         "What!?" Sokka gave a shocked reaction. "Sis, how much have you been hiding from us."
         "Look, there's a lot to unpack! Okay! I'll explain later. But now we know that there's a connection between Azula, Suh and the guys who killed the people closest to me a years ago! They're pulling strings on me and I want to stop them. So can we please gloss over that for now?" I snapped. Already regretting it because of the silence in the room.
         "So what now?" Haru spoke up. Damn it, Haru's so quiet I always forget he's here.
         "We confront Suh and force her to tell us everything she knows." Toph slammed her fist on the table. She was fuming, and honestly, it scared me. It was probably over the fact that Suh had been able to lie and Toph couldn't detect it. But Suh didn't just lie. She knew how to word things so strategically, that she didn't even need to lie half the time.
         "We can't do that." Zuko refused.
         "Why not?" Toph raised her voice. "We can force her to tell us what Azula is planning and be one step ahead of her."
         "She won't spill anything." The firebender said more firmly. "She's been able to avoid any questions directed to her about her personal life. She was able to lie to you. Are you forgetting the part where I said that she's manipulative and calculating?"
         "So we just wait for Azula to crash in again?" Katara tensed, running her hand through her hair and pacing the floor. I hated seeing my sister so stressed. She should be nervous for her wedding next week. Not worrying about some deranged women who could crash it and hurt people.
         Aang stood from his seat, the wooden chair scraped the floor loudly, getting some attention towards him while he walked over to my sister. He took her hands into his and made him look at her. "Inhale." He directed to breath in deeply and she followed his example. "Exhale." He let out a long breath after a moment.
         Katara turned to look at everyone with a more composed demeanor. Walking back to the table, she and Aang took a seat. "The wedding is still happening as planned." She gave her decisive decision. "But we need more guards around the palace and at the wedding until this is dealt with."
         "Sound's like a job for me." Sokka pridefully pointed at himself with his thumbs.
         "You don't think." I gasped sarcastically, letting my arm fall on the table. "Didn't know that was the kind of thing a commander of the tribe could do." There was a few faint giggles at my remark while Sokka gave me an unamused frown. I couldn't help giggling at myself either.
         "Haha. Very funny, sis." He rolled his eyes and only sat up in his seat straighter to give off some sort of authoritative attitude.
         Katara's hand shook her head disappointingly at us. "And I want at least one person to keep an eye on Suh at all times." She requested, or more like demanded.
         "I think Zuko's already got that part covered." Sokka firmly hit Zuko's back and gave him a thin, amused smile. Zuko just rolled his eyes at him and turned his head away. Our eyes locked and I lightly shrugged, communicating that I didn't know what Sokka was hinting at.
         "So, should we be worried about where Suh is right now?" Haru reminded everyone that while we were hear talking about the obsessive woman, who had excused herself a while ago. We all shared a concerned look. Because the answer was probably yes. We should be concerned.
.☽☼☾.
~ Azula ϟ ~
         "Azula!" I heard the obnoxious voice of Suh shout at me. I didn't flinch, though. Even if I was surprised that she was here; disturbing my meditation. "Azula, you were right." I could hear her step beside me and plop down on the floor.
         I sighed irritatedly and keeping my eyes closed to keep a semi-meditate state. "You're going to have to be more specific, Suh. I'm right about a lot of things."
         "Ama still has feelings for Zuko. She kissed him." She informed me with her angered and distressed tone. The news was interesting to me. Interesting enough to urge me out of my meditation and open my eyes.
         "Oh did she?" I cocked an eyebrow up and gave Suh an interested look. I couldn't say I was surprised. Ex or not, those two were eventually going to end up with their tongues down each other's throats.
         "Zuko didn't kiss back. Obviously." Suh rolled her eyes with disgust for Ama but confidence for herself.
        I found that hard to believe, but didn't want sit through Suh's confident rants that Zuko loved her. "And what happened after the kiss."
         "I didn't stay long after." Suh shrugged like it didn't matter. "Zuko pulled away from her and that was enough proof for me that he's way over her."
          My eyebrows raised and I scoffed at her. "You're joking, right?"
         "No, I'm not." Suh tilted her head and leaned back on her arms as she sat, like she was challenging me. "I trust Zuko. It's Ama that I don't trust."
         I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Suh was a smart girl. How could she not stay and get more information. But not only that. This wasn't the first time that I'd been put second because of Zuko. I wanted to shout at Suh. Knock some sense into her even. She was too self-assured for her own good.
         I didn't think for a second that Zuko would have any emotional attachment to Suh. She was just a pawn in my game. I would be the last person to admit that even Zuko had half a brain. He'd keep Suh around to get to me, thinking I wasn't on to him. Ha! I'd always be one step ahead of him. Suh was only needed to get me inside information that would get me to Ama. To get a peak at what could break her.
         I took in a deep breath and avoided looking at Suh. "Did you at least hear what they were talking about before you so idiotically left?"
         "Ama recognized one of your goons." Suh half-cared, primarily focusing on her nails. "She also expressed that she liked bloodbending. She still want to kill them for killing Munal."
         "Good to hear not all of your poor eavesdropping went to waste." I sneered. The information was good. It meant that things were going to plan. All of the information was probably sinking into the winey waterbender's head right now. It was finally settling that I was behind her friend's and girlfriend's death.
         Well, to be fair, that was an accident. How was I to know that Bohan and Puha were two bloodthirsty criminals who were more than angry to have a heist ruing by Ama and her group? I thought they were just regular criminals. Not that it matters. It's not like I had any guilt about it or that the guilt from a lifelong of fear mongering was getting into my head.
         I was stable, clear-headed, and perfectly fine. I've accepted that I'm a nuisance. I took pride in it even. I'd planted the seed of doubt into Zuko's brain years ago. Now it was Ama's turn.
         She had the chance years ago to kill me, but she chose the more honorable path. She could have given in to those desires that she's feeling now. Turns out I just wasn't pushing the right buttons. The waterbender had the potential to be cruel and ruthless. To be a killer. She just needed to give in. Then she'll live a life of misery, just like me.
          The weight of all her wrong doings. Of taking a life. That's what she was missing. I was almost there. Of achieving my goal. And once that happens. I'll be done here. For good.
.☽☼☾.
Okay so I’ve finally caught up on updating everything to tumblr. I’m still in the process of writing the next chapter so stay tuned!
Hang loose, amigos 🤙🏼
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shitty-marvel-fan732 · 5 years ago
Text
When the Party's Over
Author's Note:
Welp. This happened? It's a Bucky x Reader oneshot inspired by the song "when the party's over" by Billie Eilish. It's my first attempt at writing for Bucky, and also my first attempt at angst? Please let me know what y'all think!
Once again a big THANK YOU to @twentytwohearts for beta-ing this fic for me!
TW: injuries, death, mentions of anxiety/grief/PTSD
Lyrics are BOLD
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Don't you know I'm no good for you?
I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin'
But nothin' ever stops you leavin'
    It was supposed to be a routine mission -- in and out in an hour or two. The whole team had come along, but that was more a formality than anything else. The ride over on the Quinjet had been almost jovial; jokes and cheerful conversation clashing harshly with the reality of what we were going to do. It was a sad reality of our line of work, but the compartmentalization helped all of us get through the day without going too insane. 
Y/N had been sitting in her usual place by my side, head resting comfortably atop my shoulder and fingers entangled with mine. Her thumb rubbed soft circles into the palm of my flesh hand as we quietly spoke. She knew better than anyone that I craved gentle touch -- especially before a mission -- that it helped keep the Soldier from making an unwelcome return. She was smart like that, sensing when I needed her the most without my ever having to say a word. It was one of the things that had drawn me to her when we first met. I was distracted by the intoxicating feel of her skin against mine and mind racing with thoughts of her and I as we soared through the sky together. If I had it my way, I'd never detangle myself from her loving touch and our hands would stay locked together like puzzle pieces forever. 
Even as I knelt beside her in the middle of a makeshift battlefield hours later her fingers were still entangled with mine, but this time both our hands were painted with a warm, sticky coat of blood.
Her blood.
She'd been struck from behind, a stray bullet taking the both of us by complete surprise. It was one of Hydra's, a massive chunk of metal designed to implode upon impact to inflict the maximum amount of damage. And damage it did. 
As soon as she'd felt the sharp pain in her back, her eyes had instantly found mine, the connection between us drawing my gaze to her. I didn't remember much else from that moment apart from the roar of fury and fear that'd ripped from my throat as my mind went blank with panic. I don't even know how I'd made my way to her through all the people in the way, all I remember is the sheer horror that encased me as I sprinted to her fast crumpling form.
I managed to catch her just before she hit the hard ground, my arms wrapping her securely against my chest as her hands blindly hunted for mine. I cradled her gently with my metal arm as my flesh hand gave her blood covered fingers the hold she'd been searching for. She smiled slightly at the feel of my flesh against hers as I scanned her wildly, looking for the source of her bleeding. 
The bullet had entered through her back, the impact opening the area around her stomach and exposing most of her internal organs to the outside of her body. Her once round, healthy face was turning sickly pale at an alarming rate -- her chest heaving with the effort it took her to breathe. She shivered against my chest, mumbling almost inaudibly.
"I'm cold."
Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own
I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that
I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that
Unlike most of the team, Y/N was quiet; she didn't speak much, but when she did her words always made an impact. She seemed to hang back from the group -- preferring to assess those around her with her sharp eyes rather than fill the space with meaningless chatter. I too preferred to stay on the outskirts of a crowd, and it was there that I first found her clear, Y/E/C orbs studying me with a look of curious innocence on her face. It didn't take long after that day for me to realize that she'd been unconsciously moving closer and closer to me as she stared. 
Back then I was still struggling daily with flashbacks and moments when the Soldier took control of my mind, but I never seemed to lose control when Y/N was around. A fact which baffled me to no end, I couldn't come up with a rational explanation for the wave of calm that overtook me whenever she was near. She'd never spoken a word to me, nor I to her, and yet I found myself impossibly drawn to her -- like a moth to a flame. I was so perplexed I'd even asked Steve if that was part of her abilities, mood or mental manipulation of some kind. Steve had just chuckled and explained that Y/N didn't in fact have any special abilities. She was just another master assassin, her skills on par with Natasha's or Clint's. 
Though the information wasn't exactly useful to me in terms of figuring out the strange connection I felt towards her, I found myself gravitating towards Y/N whenever she was present. Eventually we began exchanging small pleasantries; mine awkward and uncomfortable and hers quiet and sweet. The pleasantries soon turned to long, drawn out conversations about anything and everything. We spent hours just talking well into the night; I found myself opening up to her like I'd never been able to do with anyone else. There was just something about her presence that made me feel calm and secure. I told her things I'd never shared with anyone, not even Steve. Things about the Soldier, about Hydra. At first, I worried that she would judge me or run away screaming at the horrible things I'd seen and done. 
But she didn't. 
She'd never even flinched as I recounted the atrocities I'd been a part of. What's more, she firmly reminded me over and over that I wasn't in control back then, and reassured me in ways no one had before. She made me feel safe, calm without seeming like she was even trying. I felt like I was locked in some kind of trance whenever she was around -- like I was wrapped in a cocoon of safety, finally free from the memories and guilt from my past. 
Incredibly, she seemed to feel just as safe around me as I did her. It was impossible for me to fathom any reason that someone as pure and kind as her would want anything to do with someone like me -- a monster. But whenever I said anything to that effect she just giggled and waved my concerns off. She always made sure to tell me how safe she felt with me around, how drawn she felt to me. 
Before too long we'd fallen into a relationship the likes of which I could never have dreamed of. We fit into one another's lives like pieces of a puzzle, and after a while I wondered how I'd ever made it through a single day without her by my side. She was my rock, my whole world, and I would do anything to protect her. 
Don't you know too much already?
I'll only hurt you if you let me
Call me friend, but keep me closer (Call me back)
And I'll call you when the party's over
Some protector I was. 
Emotions flew through my body like hurricane winds -- each cutting through me as they passed. Fear, panic, sadness, guilt: none settling for long enough to take precedent over the others. My breathing was erratic, my entire body practically vibrating with the need to do something, anything. 
She laid in my arms, looking more like a small child than any assassin should have the right to. Her breathing was slowing by the minute, and there was a look of fear in her Y/E/C eyes that made the panic bubble back up in my chest. She looked terrified and her hand gripped mine tighter as she gasped for breath. Her lips moved wordlessly for a few moments and I shook my head. 
"It's okay doll, don't try and speak now," I cooed softly. My hand briefly left hers to move delicately through her knotted curls. The familiar, comforting act happened naturally -- my arm had no need to consult with my brain before it began soothing it's way through her hair. Which was good because my brain wasn't good for much at the moment. The effect on Y/N was immediate, and her eyelids fluttered shut with the small action. Though I normally revelled in the effects my touch could have on her, I was overcome with a surge of panic at my inability to see her eyes. 
"Y/N, doll, please. I need you to open up those pretty eyes okay? Keep them right on me sweetheart," I practically begged, sobs threatening to break through at any time and voice cracking. I needed to see her eyes. Needed to know she was still with me.
She complied with my request, though I could tell it took a lot of effort on her part. Her normally clear eyes tracked along my body with difficulty and I could tell she was struggling to focus. Finally her eyes met mine and I could see the tears that'd pooled within her lids begin to fall as she gazed at me. Her hand moved weakly around my chest, seemingly searching for something, until her soft flesh met with the side of my face. I felt the wet trail of blood her fingers left behind as they caressed my cheek. I couldn't be bothered to care about the blood, too focused on the feel of her gentle hand and the love-struck expression on her face. 
"Bucky." her voice was broken, softer than I'd ever heard. 
My mind was racing with all the possible outcomes, every bit of the first aid and battle wound training escaping me. I was so immersed in my attempts to shift through the torrent of thoughts and emotions in my mind that I hardly noticed the team as they gathered around me. Evidently the battle was pretty much over, and everyone was slowly filtering over to the spot where Y/N and I were hunched over. For the first time since I'd locked eyes with her this afternoon I felt a small flutter of hope worm it's way into my chest. 
Tony was here. Banner was here. Surely they'd know how to help, what to do. They'd save her. 
I turned from Y/N's shivering form long enough to glance at Steve where he stood next to Tony. Their expressions were grim, mouths set in a thin line and eyes fixed on her injuries.
Neither would quite meet my desperate gaze. Natasha's eyes were glossed over with unshed tears as she stared at Y/N. She padded over, kneeling down beside us gently. She surveyed the wounds marring Y/N with the eyes of a trained soldier. I held my breath as she assessed her, unable to think or do anything until I was given more information. 
Clint stood just behind her with a hand on Peter's shoulder, his face stoic and eyes looking as if he was a million miles away. Peter had never looked more his age. His young face was contorted into an expression that was a mix of fear, sadness, and shock. If I had to bet on it, I don't think he'd be standing upright if it weren't for Clint's grip on him. Bruce hung back from the group and looked as if he was teetering between going green or getting sick. Thor's massive frame towered behind all the rest, his head bowed in respect as he looked sadly over the two of us. 
"Tash…" Y/N croaked. Natasha gazed down at her with a tiny, sorrowful smile. She stroked her matted and bloody hair fondly with one hand as her other quickly injected her with a small syringe. 
"Я здесь, моя милая девушка. Я здесь." the redhead cooed soothingly. "It won't hurt anymore."
My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. She couldn't mean what I thought she did. It couldn't happen. 
She stood slowly from her place, walking away slowly before ending up next to Peter. Her hand raised to his other shoulder and her head bowed as her tears began to fall. 
 My head snapped desperately between the faces of the team, needing someone to do something. 
"Stark, Banner, someone please help!" I shouted, angry at their lack of urgency. This was Y/N's life we were talking about. Someone needed to do something, needed to take her somewhere, fast. But no one moved. 
"Buck…" Steve murmured. He shook his head, defeated as tears sprang to fill his lids as well. He swallowed thickly, as if he was unsure of what to say next, the small action solidifying the twinge of doubt that lingered in the back of my mind. 
"No…" I choked out, sobs escaping my chest without permission. I gripped Y/N tighter against my body as I cried -- my tears landing on her near-motionless body and mingling with the fresh blood that covered her frame. 
The one small flame of hope I had left was extinguishing rapidly at the realization of what their lack of action meant. Y/N was going to die -- here -- in my arms, and I was powerless to stop it. Guilt and despair overtook my body as I wept in ugly choking gasps, the feelings making each limb feel as if it weighed thousands of pounds.
I was only brought out of my own head by the familiar feeling of gentle fingers dancing across my face. Y/N stared up at me as she caressed the stubble of my chin, eyes devoid of the fear and panic they once held. The feelings had simply vanished -- her irises now holding nothing but sheer love and determination. I was overwhelmed by just how beautiful she was. How much I loved her. I steadied myself, trying desperately to think of something to say. It was baffling really, to simultaneously have so much I yearned to tell her, and yet my brain couldn't muster even a single word at the moment. 
"Hey there handsome, why the long face?" she chuckled weakly. I laughed humorously at the phrase, my mind briefly drifting to a different time. A different place. 
Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own
I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that
I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that
"Bucky?" a call came from down the hall. Even from a distance I could instantly recognize the owner of melodic voice. Y/N. Her feet padded so softly down the hall, someone with normal hearing wouldn't have been able to detect her steps. Though I recognized the familiar sounds of both her voice and her footsteps approaching me, I didn't bother to move. 
I was currently sitting upright on the armchair located in the furthest corner of my room, hands gripping the arms tightly and eyes trained on the floor beneath my boots. The lights were all off and I was waging a silent war within myself. I'd just returned from a particularly grueling mission -- as if the fight wasn't gritty and difficult enough to start, the target was a Hydra base. A base packed to the brim with the idolizing scum, all bristling for a fight. Lately, I'd been more in control after these types of raids; I was able to separate myself from what I was seeing and keep the Soldier at bay. 
But not tonight.
Tonight I'd encountered one of the foot-soldiers that'd help manipulate and torture me. One of the men who'd held me down in those early days when I'd still had some fight left in me. The second I'd laid eyes on him, the memories flooded my mind like rocks in a landslide. I slipped completely out of control from there on out -- I laid waste to everyone and everything around me like a robot, like I was trained. Bucky Barnes was lost completely, and the Winter Soldier was in complete command of me. 
The Soldier had taken over me before -- the appearances becoming more distant the longer I'd been away from Cryo. But not like this. Never like this. 
Before when the Soldier took control, I'd lost consciousness entirely; mind blacked-out as he ravaged the poor souls caught in the crosshairs. Tonight, I was entirely lucid -- trapped inside as I watched the Soldier pioneer me like a puppet. I had taken a back seat within my own body. 
      If Steve hadn't been close -- if he wasn't so damn good at recognizing when I was no longer in control, who knows what would've happened. If I'd ever snapped back out of it. 
No. 
The thought drifted through my mind amidst the chaos and memories threatening to claw their way back to the surface. Even now, hours later, I wasn't entirely certain if I was completely in control. Y/N wasn't safe. The Soldier taunted me from within, yearning to be set free. To lay waste to everyone in sight. To finally meet the precious Y/N…
"NO!" I roared. The sound was feral, ripped straight from my core with the mere implication that the Soldier would get anywhere near my Y/N. My hands gripped the arms of the chair so tightly I could faintly recognize the sound of the frame cracking under my touch. He couldn't. I wouldn't let him. 
Desperation and panic overwhelmed my system as I raced to find a way to keep her from him -- from me. Her footsteps echoed closer, close enough now that I was certain even someone with average hearing could hear. 
"Y/N, don't! I'm not...STOP!" I choked. My fists released the chair roughly, splinters of broken fiber and wood clunking wildly against the floor as I jumped to my feet. Boots thudding across the floor, I made short work of the space and moved into the doorway. I intended to slam the door shut -- hopefully not hard enough to break the damn thing, but fast enough to stop her from getting in. Or to stop Him from getting out. I wasn't quite sure.
Regardless of the motive behind it, the door needed to close. To lock -- to put as much in between Y/N and I as I could manage. But as fast as I was, as fast as I could be, it wasn’t fast enough. 
Y/N’s sweet face filled the doorframe at the exact moment that my foot took the final step towards the threshold. I froze, internally divided and mind filled with so many thoughts that they blurred into a mere hum of static. The only discernible feelings I could make out from the buzz were panicked, frenzied. 
“Bucky…” she murmured, voice quiet as a mouse creeping through a home full of sleeping occupants. Breathing erratic and fists clenched painfully at my sides, I wildly stared at her gentle stance with horror. I was completely frozen -- unable to sift through the panic and dread raging within my head long enough to make a move. 
She looked as she always did: stance casual and facial expression peacefully neutral. I'd been fortunate enough in recent weeks to become familiar with all the intricacies of her beautiful features -- her nonchalant demeanor was often a trick, a facade she carefully constructed over years of brutal combat and torture. She was a spy to the core. But her mask had cracks, faults that only those who truly knew her could detect. A twitch of the eye or the finger was all it took for some to detect her hesitation -- but I knew her better than even that. 
They say the eyes are the window to the soul. Any trained soldier or criminal would tell you that they were absolutely right -- that anyone worth a damn could gather intel or win a fight based on the enemies eyes alone. I was no different. It was a fundamental fact of life that no one could truly hide the look in their eyes, and I could instantly determine most people's moods and intentions with just a brief glance. But, as I was slowly learning was the case for most fundamental truths, Y/N was a bit of an exception. 
It wasn't that I couldn't decipher the meaning lurking behind her Y/E/C orbs. On the contrary, I had an easier time picking out her thoughts from a glance than for most people. No, the difference with Y/N was that when I looked into her eyes I didn't just discover her true emotions. I felt them.
Currently, as we stood locked in a heated staring contest, her eyes held no trace of fear, no defensive alarm. Most people like us always mentally had one foot out the door -- an escape plan formulated out of sheer habit whenever we entered a room. She didn't. Y/N stood before me, completely devoid of any of her natural instincts as she surveyed me. She wasn't afraid.
She was worried. 
"Hey there handsome, why the long face?"
Her soft voice broke the tense silence that'd enveloped us, a twinge of humor evident in her tone. She knew all about the mission, about what I was fighting against, and yet she stood before me and teased. If I wasn't so god-damned terrified, I think I would've laughed. 
"Y/N, you have to -- I'm not...I can't --" I sputtered uselessly, praying to whatever higher power there was that she would understand. Desperately wishing that she would turn abruptly and leave. 
She was silent for a moment, eyes scanning me with soft contemplation. Her stance changed slightly -- her shoulders set back with determination and hands lifting slowly towards my face. I jerked backwards to avoid contact, eyes desperately pleading for her to understand. 
Her hand paused in midair, caught halfway between my body and hers. My breathing was still erratic and my chest was heaving with the effort it took to regulate myself. Instead of turning around and leaving like I desperately wanted her to do she took another step forward towards my shaking form. Deliberate and calculated, she stalked me slowly like a police officer approaching a suicidal suspect. My heart crashed wildly against my chest and the cacophony of thoughts in my head somehow became even louder. She couldn't -- why wasn't she stopping? 
"I've never been scared of you Bucky." she stated, voice impossibly soft yet firm. "Not for a moment. Not even when you're scared of yourself."
She inched slowly closer as she spoke until she was a hairbreadth away from touching me. My already overloaded senses were flooded with her presence. The sweet, familiar smell of her skin wafted up to my nose -- the scent a mix of lavender shampoo rising from her freshly washed hair and her own unique aroma. The wave of calm that seemed to envelope me whenever she was near began to seep into me slowly. The tornado of thoughts and panicked feelings hadn't completely subsided, but they began to slowly fade away as she got closer. 
Her gentle palm came into contact with the skin of my cheek with a feather-light touch. The gradual wave of peace that'd begun to encroach within my troubled mind suddenly clashed against the swirl of panic and fear inside my head at the soft feeling of her hand against my face. I gasped harshly, all the breath abruptly stolen from my lungs as the silent war within my mind came to a peak. The Soldier roared in fury -- livid at the attack against his release. 
A sob ripped through my chest as I felt my mind slowly become entirely my own once more. I lurched forward, arms wrapping tightly around Y/N's waist and face burying itself in the crook of her neck. Though no other words were spoken between us for the moment, Y/N didn't need any verbal cues in order to seemingly understand what I needed. One of her arms wrapped firmly around my body and wrenched me closer to hers as I cried. The other hand found its way into the hairs on the back of my head and began taking through them gently. I must have been disgusting at the moment; I hadn't done anything since returning to the tower, and I was certain she could feel the layers of grime, sweat, and blood that coated my skin. If she did, she didn't let it show. She cooed soft words of reassurance and love into my ears as she held me. 
Eventually, she maneuvered our still conjoined bodies to the edge of my bed and gently guided us to a seated position. My sobs were starting to slow as she continued to soothe my shaking form. Fat tears kept rolling down my cheeks steadily, but I was able to control the sounds and cries as I slowly calmed. Y/N's gentle coos also started to slow as I began to quiet down, though her fingers didn't stop their soft dance through my hair. 
"It's okay sweet boy, it's all over now," she whispered against the crown of my head, lips brushing against me with each gentle word. "You're okay Bucky, I'm here, I've got you."
 I let out a shaky breath as the sweet sounds of her voice flowed smoothly into my ears and I processed what she truly meant. A sudden wave of exhaustion overcame my body -- keeping myself upright and my eyes opened became more of a challenge than it should have. Ever perceptive, Y/N seemed to realize the struggle I was facing. 
She gently rolled my head off her shoulder and started to stand. A bolt of fear ran through my chest at the lack of contact, and my hand shot out like a bullet to grab her wrist. 
"Stay." I managed to croak out. My voice was hoarse, throat raw and aching from overuse. She looked at me with an expression of pure understanding, eyes sparkling with compassion and reassurance. 
"I'm not going far, don't worry," she soothed. Her hand came to rest over the top of mine and her thumb rubbed small circles over the tops of my bruised and bloodied knuckles. "I'll be right back, just lie down for a minute and rest, okay?"
Though my stomach still wrestled with the panic and desperation of wanting to keep her close, I allowed her to pry my fingers from her wrist and walk away. I slid my body back onto the bed and laid as she'd requested with childlike obedience. My eyes shut instantly as I allowed myself to rest but I fought against the sleep that threatened to overcome me. My half-asleep brain faintly registered the sounds of a tap running and the hum of the bathroom light flickering on. 
It wasn't long before I heard the soft padding of Y/N's footsteps drawing near and felt the bed dip under her weight. 
"Can you sit up for a moment?" her gentle voice wafted through my ears like honey. Drained and utterly out of it, I obeyed and slowly sat up. 
"Good. I'm going to help you, okay?"
I felt the warm, wet sensation of a wash rag being swiped carefully across the skin of my face. Internally moaning at the feeling, I sat patiently while Y/N carefully washed all the grime and dried blood from my body. My shirt had been shed not long after I'd come back -- in my half-crazed state it'd felt too small, suffocating.
She carefully swept the cloth over every inch of available skin I had. Under normal circumstances I would've been embarrassed, both of my bare skin littered with scars and of the outpouring of emotion I'd displayed, but I didn't feel even a shred of self-consciousness at the moment. No, whatever small bit of consciousness I could muster in my tired body was lasered into Y/N. Her gentle fingers danced across my skin, sending tiny shockwaves of electricity through me. I was overpowered by the smell of her unique scent surrounding me, by the aura of affection and safety she radiated around us. Words couldn't come close to describing the peace and contentment I felt surrounding me -- it was as if the entire world had melted away around us. I wasn't thinking about the Soldier, the mission, nothing. Hell I was halfway gone from being able to recall my own name at the moment. My senses and thoughts were entirely and wholeheartedly consumed by one single thing. 
Her. 
After some time, although I had no idea how much, Y/N finished her task and retreated to the bathroom to put away the rag and water basin. I shivered slightly at the sensation of cool air hitting my now clean skin and the lack of contact with Y/N's gentle hands. Unsure what to do, I sat lamely on the edge of my bed and waited as patiently as I could for Y/N to return. 
She exited the ensuite and flicked the light off behind her as she did. Even without the benefit of light I was still surrounded by the comforting embrace of her presence. The bed dipped slightly as she sat down, the bare skin of my arms prickling with sparks as her body settled next to me. She silently removed her shoes and began to scootch up the bed. 
Almost robotically, I copied her actions, kicking my boots off roughly and joining her near the headboard. Though I couldn't see her well in the dark of the room I felt her arms open wide in silent invitation. I readily accepted the comfort she offered, lying my head across her chest and arms wrapping around her middle firmly. I relaxed instantly into her embrace as she wrapped one hand around the back of my head and the other began running aimless patterns across my bare back. 
No other words were spoken between us that night. Sleep consumed me quickly as she held me and she followed not long after. The rest of our time was spent wrapped in each others arms, her offering quiet comfort and me reveling in the feeling of being protected for once. It became a ritual after each mission and most every night for us after that -- to lay in one another's arms as we slept. 
But nothin' is better sometimes
Once we've both said our goodbyes
Let's just let it go
Let me let you go
Time was running short, and I could tell I didn't have much time left with Y/N. Her breaths were growing more shallow by the second, the space in between them growing longer. Her eyes were still locked in to mine but the sparkle that they usually held was fading with each passing moment. There was a hole in my chest that ached as I struggled to hold myself together. I want sure exactly how much longer she was going to be able to hold on, but I didn't want her final memories to be filled with me breaking down. I shuddered violently with an ominous chill as I fought against the tears that'd collected in my eyes. 
My hands were busy, cradling Y/N gently against my chest and running though her hair. My lips brushed softly against the crown of her head, and I mumbled tender words that I hoped were somehow soothing. I slowly rocked us back and forth as I cooed, the warm flow of blood from her stomach squelching against the harsh dirt of the ground as I did. I peppered as many kisses as I could to whatever skin was available: her cheeks, forehead, nose, hairline. She didn't make much noise apart from a few small hums of contentment here or there as my lips connected to her skin. After what felt like an eternity and only a second all at once I felt her body begin to fall slack. Panic shot through my chest, and I clutched her tighter against my chest. 
"I'm so sorry doll." I whispered desperately. "I should've...I can't... I'm sorry."
I rocked her faster and held her tighter, hoping against all rationality that if I just held on tight enough that I could stop what was inevitably about to happen. I could no longer control my tears -- they flowed rapidly from my eyes in big fat droplets into the soft skin of her neck. 
"Bucky…" she muttered. Her voice was nearly inaudible and as I pulled reluctantly from my position against the crook of her neck I could instantly tell that she was nearly gone. I sucked in a breath and held it, entirely unsure as to what to do or say. Never one to let me struggle for long, Y/N smiled her truest, most beautiful smile up at me and raised her pale hand weakly to rest on my face. 
"I lo -- I love you. Don't be sorry. I love you." she murmured. Her voice sounded impossibly fragile. Even for as soft spoken as she could be at times I'd never heard her sound so small. But I wasn't thinking about her tone in that moment or what it meant -- my entire being was consumed by overwhelming feelings of adoration for the woman in my arms. Even with what could literally be her dying breath she was determined to express not her pain, regrets, or final wishes. No, she was using her last moments to tell me that she loved me. I choked down a sob from deep within my chest before replying. 
"I know doll. I love you too Y/N. I love you so damned much." 
She smiled faintly at the admission. Her lips quirked up only the smallest fraction, but I felt the familiar feelings of affection and love fluttering in my stomach as she did. The smile remained on her face as I felt her body go limp within my arms. She drifted away just like that: lying delicately across my lap with her head resting lightly against my chest. If I hadn't known better, I might have thought she was simply sleeping. Her eyes were still open -- the irises dull and pale, their natural sparkle gone in an instant. 
She was gone.
I shivered violently, crushing her now lifeless body against my own tightly as sobs of pure anguish ripped from my lungs. I was utterly consumed with grief -- my chest ached with the weight of my despair, the indescribable pain and loss rooting me to my spot. I stroked her bloodied and matted hair with shaking fingers and took deep breaths of her lingering scent, desperately trying to commit all I could about her to memory.
I could faintly hear the sound of sniffles and the shuffling of boots against the rocky ground as the team shifted around. Life was still working around me as I held Y/N's lifeless body, though it felt as if my entire world had stopped with the last beat of her heart. A hand grasped me from behind, grip tight on my shoulder. 
"Buck," Steve's voice drifted in my ears "It's time. We...we have to go home".
Unconsciously, I gripped Y/N tighter in my arms. I didn't move an inch, terrified of what I'd face once I did. Steve's hand squeezed my shoulder, and though I couldn't see his face from my position I could practically hear the grim determination he exuded. He'd been close with Y/N too; Steve had known her long before me, and their friendship had only grown as we'd gotten closer. Deep inside I knew this must've been difficult for him too, but I couldn't muster the strength to empathize at the moment. 
"I can't-- Steve I…" I sobbed. I didn't budge from my position. I couldn't explain the panic I felt; as broken and devastated as I was, I knew that as soon as I got up that things would be irrevocably changed. Steve didn't respond, nor did he move, but I could tell that he understood. 
We stayed like that for an immeasurable length of time, me sobbing and cradling Y/N's lifeless body and Steve silently standing behind us. Eventually the weight in my chest nestled deeper in my body, sadness dissipating like a mist into every fiber of my body. I felt numb, disassociated from life as I robotically stood. I gathered Y/N in my arms and silently began the walk to the jet. 
The sound of my boots crunching against the gravel was deafening as we walked, the once loud area of the battlefield deadly quiet. Y/N felt feather-light in my arms compared to the crushing weight of the grief that had made its home in my chest. But even that weight was nothing compared to the weight of the small box encased in the pocket of my tac pants. The tiny box that once held so much promise now weighed heavy against my leg with each step. The tiny silver and diamond band inside stripped of any hope, just like I was. 
Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own
I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that
I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that
75 notes · View notes
spnfanficpond · 5 years ago
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October Angel Fish Awards
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Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.
The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.
NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle or Mana to check and make sure we got your submission.
WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE OCTOBER’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!
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Nominated by @impala-dreamer​
 Lay All Your Love on Me (oneshot) by @idabbleincrazy​
Very very tasty Sam smut here. Love him just letting go and getting into it. Very good work!!
For Tonight (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence​ 
Amazing. Simple yet beautiful and oh the sweet pain. I loved it.
Nominated by Anon
Ride with Me by @katehuntington​
This story is amazing! Kate is weaving such an intricate little AU while still remaining true to the characters. Her descriptions are spot on and the dialogue just feels so…perfect. I adore the insight we are getting from Dean’s perspective too. This is such a unique story and now I just want to go on a trail ride (and find me a cowboy *winks*)!
Nominated by @manawhaat​
Dessert Then Dinner (oneshot) by @atc74​
HOLY SHITBALLS! I generally am not a slut for Rob, but this made me the absolute biggest slut for Rob. Oy vey. The inspiration was fucking there! That picture did things to me and the fic that followed definitely did things to me. It’s hot, it’s fucking ACCURATE representation of lust for the way a man is dressed. Ay ay ay, these words and image are just happen to be exactly what makes my brain explode. 
Witches Fuckin’ Suck (oneshot) by @crashdevlin​
This. Fic. Is. Fuckin’. Weird. It’s weird. It’s absolutely weird. IN THE BEST POSSIBLE WAY. OMG. I have never related to all parties in a fic so thoroughly. It’s hilarious. It’s ridiculous. There’s a funniness and curiosity that bleeds into sexiness in such a light and honest way. The way this scenario presents itself is so damn real within the realm of Jody and Donna and me. Fucking fantastic! 
Nominated by @slytherkins​
River (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield
Love me some Denny, but this one is almost better because it’s just implied. There are all sorts of references to Dean’s past, but they are subtle, and the fic itself is understated. It’s also hawt. :p And Dean is so in character. I just…I just like this. Is just good. Bittersweet and sexy.
Drabble #5 (oneshot) by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters​
I loved this drabble. It’s so understated. Big responses in these types of situations are great and all, but I think the fact that they were so reserved made it all the more touching. And particularly in character for Dean, imho. Read it! Be moved. :p
A Dangerous Game ch.6 (series) by @risingphoenix761​
Ooooooh Myyyyy Gaaaaaaawd. Y'all. New chapter. Smut…so hawt. Character dynamic…so fun. Crowley…so, so secksy. Magic…so magicy. :p Remusly, this series just blows me away.  
Nominated by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​
About A Boy (series) by @percywinchester27​
I would like to nominate Ana’s About a Boy series. It has me on the edge of my seat already. Ana is such an insanely smart writer and she really knows how to build a story. She also know her character super well and she is wicked at writing them as kids/young adults. It’s not a reader insert which I know turn a bunch of people off which is a huge shame cause this one really deserves a lot of love and attention.
Nominated by @lovetusk​
A Little Hide and Seek (series) by @iflostreturntosteverogers​
Can I nominate this new series that Carrie is working on? She’s really growing as a writer lately, and so far this series really showcases that.
Nominated by @princessmisery666​
Blood In Bed (oneshot) by @slytherkins​
So I don’t support @slytherkins as much as she supports me and my writing so I wanted to read something of hers, even though it’s not my ‘usual’ cup of tea!!
And god damn I’m so f******g happy, scrap that, ecstatic that I did. This was fun, engaging, funny, sweet and heart breaking. I know she knows Crowley, she quite literally is his Queen 👑. She gets him spot on and this could quite easily be canon. I can see it happening.
I wish I had the words to tell you how brilliant this is, how much I really like it. Demon Dean is perfectly portrayed and I just can’t express how good this is. Mark as my favourite and one I will return to, many times.
Not Always The Way (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage​
THIS WAS PERFECTION!! Yes I know I’m shouting but I need to!!!
Sweet, fluffy, smutty, perfectly Sam, cute and awkward and kind and patient and just yeah!
Nominated by @ellen-reincarnated1967​
A New Fall (series) by @iwantthedean​ 
It's autumn themed, full of the apple pie life, orchards, pumpkins, cinnamon rolls that you can eat as well as the human cinnaroll Jensen post season 15. The family history of the reader really puts you right at the farmer's market and you'll feel cozy. There's also a twist. Looking forward to the rest, but the chapters up now, are addicting like apple pie!
Nominated by @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​
Blood and Water (series) by @crashdevlin​
This story is fan-freakin-tastic! I love everything about it. I’m all about Dark!chesters and Crash is killing it, especially since the boys still feel in character despite the whole ‘screwing their sisiter’ thing. Bravo Crash! Can’t wait to see what else is in store for these three.
His Property (series) by @negans-lucille-tblr​
How do I begin to describe this amazing work of fanfic? Dirty? Kinky? Delicious? Dramatic? Angsty? Smutty? Surprise conflict? On point characters in a very very alternate universe? Yes, I think one of those is a good place to start. Bottom Line: READ THIS FIC (and its sequel Yours)!
Mr. Impala (mixed media) by @evansrogerskitten​
I don’t even remember how I stumbled across this gem but I was shook! I totally thought I was looking at the real thing! And then I read the article, and I was absolutely reading the real AU thing! Such an awesome work of art and fic combined! I was blown away by the quality of it! Props to Ash (and all the other art people) for such an awesome piece and even more props for merging art and fic flawlessly!
Nominated by @stunudo​
Smokestack Lightning (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield
I’m nominating MJ’s awesome Sam/Rowena fic because it was what we needed after The Rupture. It is real, but also fun and flirty. She is a master at layering the emotions into her fics, especially the smutty ones.
Nominated by @wi-deangirl77​
Stages of Grief (drabble) by @plaidstiel-wormstache​
I’m nominating this drabble by my gal Jessie because it’s so different than a lot of the fics out there.  The way she coveys the pain and sorrow that the characters feel after such a loss is palpable.  And the way she jumps forward to the future that neither of the remaining characters could have even thought possible at the beginning of the story is very bittersweet. 
What’s Left of Me (drabble) by @waywardjoy​
Once again the Queen of Angst (as I’ve so lovingly dubbed her) brings it to the next level.  Writing it all from Sam’s POV she sets up this dark, DARK fic (heed the warnings peeps) for one hell of a ride.  You can’t help but feel as confused, scared and out of control as our hero Sam does as she takes you down the spiraling track that is the plot of this fic.  Well done, dear Joy…well done. 
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Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!
As with the BFAs, these are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D
THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!
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rwby-ontheside · 4 years ago
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General thoughts on RWBY Antagonists:
Salem: Big bad with a titty window. What else is there to say? Our wicked witch of the west. Not saying she'll get a redemption but she might actually help save the day in the end? Might not. Jinn's whole, no way to kill Salem thing makes me think Ruby is going to have to convince her to not end the world. Really love her backstory. All her interactions with the gods had such a good similarity to fairytales. Gonna make you immortal until you appreciate life or whatever? Get outta here. Love it.
Cinder: So collected and boring (except for hilariously unnecessary wardrobe changes) in vol 1-3. Became my favorite villain once things weren't going her way. Our Cinderella may have a tragic backstory but she will get no redemption. She's carrying out her own plans but is still loyal to her fairy godmother, Salem. Not out of loyalty, but because she's smart. Everytime Cinder is on screen my brain jumps up and down but it'll be incredibly satisfying seeing her taken down in the end (whoever that may be, Ruby or Jaune).
Adam: Literally was there to have an insanely satisfying death. Wilting rose was a stand in for a domestic abuser who was defeated by his victim and Yang who was protecting his victim. He was a huge part to Blake's backstory and Blake and Yang's storylines vol 4-6. Love what he added. Love how he died.
Torchwick: Gotten say never was a huge fan of his but loved his speech right before he got eaten. And his death caused Neo's whole plot line in vol 6 and 7, which is *chef's kiss* Looking back he was a good middle management type villian for vol 1-3.
Neapolitan: She's not just there for having THE best fighting style and fun spunky attitude. At this point, she is the only one with the sole goal of killing Ruby. She has some added depth for caring about her old donzo boss. Another character that makes my brain jump up and down. What's she gonna do?! She's following Cinders plan for now but Neo is the most unpredictable character right now. Cannot wait for her to meet Ruby again. And hopefully Yang.
Emerald: She's the diamond in the rough! The show made us sympathetic to her pretty early on. This girl is getting a nice redemption that she'll earn and deserve.
Mercury: We were made sympathetic to him later than Emerald but he'll get the same outcome. His redemption will no doubt be born from his attachment and affection to Emerald. In my mind he's the Jasmine to Emerald's Aladdin. Boy's got no other fairytale attachment right?
Hazel: He adds a nice bit of 'Ozpin you monster' vibe. Similar to Mercury, will see redemption through his care for Emerald. Dad bod, I like him.
Arthur Watts: Gives Salem's posse brains. Having intelligent villains can give interesting plots and twists. Evil Sherlock Holmes.
Tyrion: Just the psycho on the team. It's enjoyable seeing other villians look uneasy when he does anything. He's built a history with Ruby and ESPECIALLY Qrow. He's the scorpion on the frog. Kinda hate him but love his fighting style. It will be very enjoyable to see whomever kills him.
Ironwood: Embodiment of absolute power corrupts absolutely. Love it. He's a great example of why teams on RWBY are so important. Turned into a cold blooded tin man.
Cordovin: Old lady in the shoe. I for one loved the vol 6 climax with her. A good one season villian. I like the "2 old ladies fight". And it was nice to have the gang fight someone outside of Salem's gang for a season.
Honorary:
Raven: We have her for the sweet angst (and don't forget Yangst!). Literally cannot wait to see team STRQ backstory. She had her own agenda in vol 5 and it was amazing (and totally backfired on her). Pinnacle of morally grey character. She sees love as a weakness but her semblance literally only works if she bonds to people! Ah it's beautiful. Has history with Yang of course and sees Ruby as Summer (and Tai moving on-ouch). She literally kicked Weiss in the face 😭. If the show has time, they could highlight the similarities between Raven and Blake.
Ilia: Good baby gay. She had a nice redemption and rounded Blake's love interests to 4 (the only number allowed on RWBY). Hopefully she gets a callback.
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bodytoflame-ao3 · 5 years ago
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i wish i could lie to you
talking to silena beauregard about your crush is both:
a) a brilliant idea, because, duh, she’s the daughter of Aphrodite b) a terrible idea, because, oh, right, she’s the daughter of Aphrodite.
or, fem!percy and some musings on sexuality
Read on AO3
it's hard to be myself
when i don't know who i am
space date ..//.. fredo disco
“Have you ever met someone who makes your hands all sweaty... and I feel sick to my stomach, and nervous, and—”
“Aww, Percy’s got a crush! Who is he?”
“I— no, it’s— no one!”
Except it’s most definitely someone. Someone with the most striking green eyes, a smile that lights up a room, and perfectly defined ash brown waves that would make the ocean jealous (and she would know). And Percy doesn’t even know her name. All she knows is she’s a year above her and has the locker above hers, and she says hello every time they pass each other in the halls, and every time she looks at Percy she feels her heart flutter. Percy's pretty sure she's said less than 10 words to her in the two weeks they've been back in school. An awkward ‘Sorry…’ or two trying to reach her locker, and a muttered ‘Thanks’ in response.
It’s strange, because she knows what a crush is. She’s never really had one, but that was normal, right? After all, she’s only twelve, and it’s not like she had time for things like that after finding out about the gods. This can’t be a crush. It’s just her anxiety working up. Every time she wants to open her locker at the same time she awkwardly excuses herself and tries not to get in her way. Crushes were supposed to feel magical, and fluttery, and this was not that. In fact, it just made her feel sick. Completely unlike anything she’d ever heard about liking someone.
She brushes the conversation off and no one brings it up again, having moved on to the next bit of what classified as middle school drama. Whatever. It’s not like they were any help anyways. Or even her friends. Acquaintances, more like. Her friends were at camp. Of course she still considers Grover her best friend, but… she figures he won’t want to hear about any of this anyways. It was always in a joking manner, but he always teased her for showing any semblance of a ‘girl problem’. He covers up the fact that he’s uncomfortable by poking fun; and that’s fine with her. She knows that.
★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★
It crosses her mind every so often the rest of the year. Percy never does learn her name. And she’s still not sure what it means.
★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★
When she gets to camp, even in all the chaos of the tree, she finds herself talking to, who else, but Silena Beauregard. On one hand, a brilliant idea, because, duh, she’s the daughter of Aphrodite, but also a terrible idea because, oh, right, she’s the daughter of Aphrodite. If there’s anything she needs to confront, it’s going to happen. She spills her guts to Silena, and it’s possibly the longest conversation they’ve ever had. Percy tells her about how she’s never had a crush, so she doesn’t know what it’s supposed to feel like (“It’s not supposed to feel like anything… it just is.”), and explains how her brain seemed to self destruct whenever they were close. And how stupid it is that I’m focusing on this now when the whole camp is in peril.
Silena listens. She doesn’t butt in (save from answering direct questions), she just lets Percy talk, and listens. When Percy’s done, she finally speaks: “You are so funny,” she laughs. “That’s a crush if I’ve ever seen one.”
Leave it up to Aphrodite to bestow some sort of freaky love mind-reading gift on her daughter. Percy doesn’t really know what to say, both to Silena or this girl (if she ever sees her again). “So… what do I do?”
Silena rolls her eyes, like the answer is obvious. “Gods, Annabeth’s as oblivious as you are.”
Annabeth?
Silena narrows her gaze. “Wait— you’re not talking about… Who are you talking about?”
Intimidated by the rapid fire interrogation, Percy blurts out, “Some girl from my school that had the locker above mine this year! I passed her in the hallway every day and every time she said ‘hi’ to me I felt like turning into a puddle!”
“Oh.” Percy sees the gears turn in Silena’s head, wondering if she should just leave while she can, and try and forget this whole conversation even happened. Before she can decide, Silena takes her hands and speaks slowly; “I can’t just…” She sighs, trying to phrase her answer correctly. “Listen, Percy, there are some things you have to figure out for yourself.” Silence hangs between them, thoughts moving slowly in Percy’s head. Silena continues, “You know one’s going to judge you here.”
“Silena, I don’t even know what I…” Want? No, this isn’t something she wants, she’s desperately trying to push it out of her mind, but… “I gotta go.” Quickly grabbing her stuff, Percy mutters a sheepish thanks to Silena and tries to forget their talk ever happened.
★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★
As much as she does want to bury it, one thing Silena said rings clear: Annabeth. Silena couldn’t’ve meant— no. That’s stupid. And ridiculous. If anything, she wants to be Annabeth. Tough, and smart, and beautiful. Not that she’s not happy with her own looks. Annabeth’s just… better. At like, everything. She knows this place like the back of her hand, and she has friends. People respect her, and she’s tough enough to not take anyone’s shit.
For all of her snarky comments and sarcastic quips, Percy had never quite gotten that part down. Maybe that’s why she likes Locker Girl. She just oozes confidence and happiness and seems so ready to share it. Still, something in Percy’s gut tells her she doesn’t just want to be her. She’s smart, but everyone seems smart in comparison (even if Annabeth would beat her up for even thinking that, because she’s smart in her ‘own way, Seaweed Brain’). And she’s pretty, yeah, but… Percy likes her own short hair. It’s easy, and it suits her, and she’s heard Annabeth complain about the upkeep of her curls one too many times to ever wish it on herself. Locker Girl is nice. Maybe that’s stupid of her to say, considering they barely know each other well enough to be strangers. She seems nice. Nice enough for Percy to want to know her better.
So maybe she does like her... just in the admiring-from-afar kind of way. It was normal to admire people. She admired Clarisse, for the way she spoke her mind, and Luke, at first, and Annabeth’s insanely fine tuned battle skills, and the fact that she could beat Percy at anything in her sleep. Well, to be fair, it's hard not to notice Annabeth. She has the kind of voice you can pick out from a crowd, like she commands attention with every word that leaves her mouth (and, oh, how she does). Not only that, but she’s an incredible fighter. Never was Percy quite as intimidated as when they dueled one on one. She was a menace with that dagger, and strong too. Most of all—
Percy shakes the tangent from her mind. This isn’t about Annabeth, she reminds herself, This is about your helpless crush on that girl from school.
That’s the first time she actually acknowledges it herself. It’s funny — it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal until she starts to psychoanalyze every single frame of reference she has for the word. The girls in her class, incessantly asking her which boy she had a crush on at the beginning of every year. The way she would glance across the room, and pick the boy who looked the nicest. And, huh, she’s pretty sure she told them she had a crush on Grover the year they met. Which, for the record, she absolutely doesn’t. He’s like her brother, and... ew. With that aside… no boy she ever said she had a crush on made her feel like that. She just wanted to be their friends. And she would be, for a time. Until the next school, and the next set of girls who meant well, but ultimately never connected with her. It was just the way her world worked up to this point. She never stayed anywhere long enough to actually feel close to people, at least not in the way everyone else described their ‘best friends’. Now, she’s growing, and everything’s changing. Suddenly liking someone isn’t a bubbly, excited feeling, but a pit in her stomach — and she's not sure what the difference is.
★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★
It’s the first big thing she deliberately keeps from her mom. Not that Sally seemed too preoccupied with asking about crushes, or even grades; these days it was more often ‘what life-threatening injuries did you sustain this time?’ than something so mundane. It wouldn’t be a big deal. Percy knows that. She’s half-god, for crying out loud. Truth be told, she’d probably just be relieved to hear something comparatively normal as opposed to ‘Hey mom, camp was great, I only almost died twice this year!’
Nevertheless, she doesn’t, because deep down, she knows telling her means it’s real. (Sally Jackson would love her daughter no matter what. That was never the problem.) There was a problem, undeniably — it nagged at the back of Percy’s mind, and she couldn’t seem to put a pin in it no matter how hard she tried.
★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★
It hits her like a truck only a few days later when they win the chariot race. Annabeth kisses her cheek and it’s like the entire world slows down around her. Her ears start to ring, and not from the cheers of the crowd.
She spends the rest of the afternoon kicking around camp, making sure she’s got everything in order. Grover, Chiron, her mom, Tyson… It doesn’t leave her all the time in the world to think, but her mind gravitates to Annabeth without a second thought. That’s telling, isn’t it?
Annabeth didn’t mean it like that, obviously. From what Percy can see, she still has feelings for Luke. It wasn’t something they talked about, but she could tell. The way she tensed up when people mentioned him; how she seemed to still care even after all he’s done. And Percy would rather die than make things more complicated for Annabeth, especially when Luke’s betrayal affected her so much. She won’t let her lose another friend if it’s in her control. So she keeps moving — there’s a world that needs saving — and forces herself to stop thinking about how Annabeth’s hand would feel in hers.
★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★
She spends the rest of the year trying to forget. Just when she finally thinks she’s repressed it enough, they’re whisked away on another quest. Annabeth saves a dance for her when it’s over. But it’s not important. The least they’re owed for continuing to save the world is a bit of fun. To be normal, if only for one night. She owes that to Annabeth. She can’t lay this burden on her, not after everything they've been through to get here.
★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★
Rachel’s enough of a distraction. She’s a lot like Annabeth, in a certain light. Witty, and stubborn, with remarkable beauty. Blunt, too, which Percy’s thankful for — there’s no playing guessing games with how she feels; she’ll tell you. From that, it’s evident that Rachel‘s been flirting with her for the past few months. And to be honest, Percy isn’t set in about how she feels about it. She’s still not sure where she stands with the whole sexuality thing.
★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★
Annabeth kisses her, and there’s no question in her mind.
★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★
The one thing Percy can't wrap her head around is why doesn’t she feel the same way about Rachel. It would be easy to be with her; as easy as things could be for her, at least. Plus, Rachel’s gorgeous, and she definitely likes me, but…
She’s not Annabeth.
some thoughts™:
hm! i'm still not sure how i feel about this! but, fuck it, it's femslash february!!!
i'm specifically interested in the dynamic i set up with percy and the differences between her crushes on this unnamed mystery girl and annabeth. i feel like she doesn't have a word for it (me either tbh) or really a frame of reference for how but they're very different in both the ways those crushes manifest and how she feels about them internally. initially, she's just young and not thinking about stuff like that because oh Shit she's a demigod and Bad Things Are Happening, but after things start to go back to normal she does start to feel some things she can't understand and doesn't really recognize, especially with the way she's been shoehorned into school after school, never really staying in one place long enough to form a lasting bond. it's different when she comes back every summer and annabeth's still there. and while her first thought when seeing her may have been, essentially, 'oh shit she's pretty', it's the friendship they develop that makes it real. idk!!! talk to me about it!!!!!
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cupidmarwani-archive · 5 years ago
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Natural (12/12)
Only three hours into Will’s shift, he’s sent home. Everyone can smell how upset he is, how disappointed and angry and guilty, and it’s not good for the patients it’s his job to take care of. He can’t do that, smelling like he does, so Goodwin tells him to take the day to calm himself down, get back control. She’s right, and he hates that she’s right. On the train, no one will come within five feet of him because he fucking reeks. He needs a good shower with strip soap, and a stiff drink, and maybe to go out to some bar and find a different Omega to bury his face in so he can get away from Connor’s memory. 
He locks himself in his apartment and snatches up the blanket he bought to bury his face in. At some point, he’s gotta find a real mate to settle down with. Someone like Connor, he thinks, with a mind of their own and a beautiful smile and such a talent for helping other people. He wants Connor, but he missed his shot. If he concentrates hard, he can still remember the way Connor smelled, the way his heat smelled.
For some reason, his nose is hit with the stinging odor of bleach, and he isn’t sure why. He doesn’t own any, and the building policy is to post a notice before using strong smelling chemicals, so it can’t be one of the neighbors. Before he can start to investigate, something bangs against his door, fast and frantic. Will grabs his bat before opening it, only to see Connor there, cheeks flushed, the skin on his neck and wrists irritated, raw- chemical burns. Undiluted bleach that he reeks of, covering his natural scent.
“Help me, please. I have to hide…”
Will has an obligation to call the cops, to bring Connor back to Bekker, but he’s not going to. He wouldn’t dare. He glances around the hallway and, once he sees it’s clear, pulls Connor inside. His scent is so absent, covered by the bleach- it was smart, almost. Now he can’t be tracked. But he has chemical burns. At least he doesn’t have internal injuries, according to the hospital records Will couldn’t resist looking at just to be sure that Connor was okay.
“You could’ve hurt yourself, doing this.”
Connor shakes his head. To say that he’s fine, or that it doesn’t matter, Will can’t tell. The only thing he brought with him is a small bag that feels like it’s full of fabric- clothes. Not Connor’s, because they weren’t staying there, so they must be Bekker’s. It makes sense, he supposes. Connor has a mate whether he likes it or not, and he’ll need her scent for his own health until he can get the bond severed. If he ever can. There are experimental procedures, but they don’t always succeed in separating mates.
Will’s getting ahead of himself. “I’ll put this in my closet, and then we’ll talk, okay?” he asks, taking the bag off Connor’s shoulder. “You can’t stay forever. Everyone at the hospital, they’ll be able to smell you on me once that bleach starts to fade. Especially because I know you’re still in heat, Connor, even if I can’t smell it.”
“No, I uh- I…” he waves a hand near his neck, and all Will smells is the bleach, none of Connor’s incredible usual scent. “I kept pouring it, over and over. They’re uh, I made sure they can’t work anymore.”
He tilts his head to the side, revealing the burn on his bite mark too. Jesus. “Connor, if- I need to take you to the hospital. If they really can’t, then there’s a lot of damage, and you need antibiotics, you need to be looked at, evaluated-”
“No hospital, they’ll send me back. Just- can’t you help me?”
Anything Connor will ask like that, looking at Will with those big blue eyes, he’ll give to him. He can’t stop himself. “Okay, okay. I’ve got gauze, I’ll put bandages on you, then we’ll talk. C’mon, the bathroom’s this way.”
It’s strange, driving Will insane to not be able to smell Connor anymore. He’s used to being able to practically taste him, but the chemicals instead of the sweetness when he knows Connor is right here is short-circuiting his brain. He has to squeeze his eyes shut and take a deep breath that just smells like bleach.
“There were better ways-”
“No.” Connor grabs Will’s arm tightly, digs his fingers in. “Not from her. I did what I had to, and- and I know you’ll help me. You helped me before.”
“You realize this is the first place she’ll look.”
“It doesn’t matter-”
Although it seems like Connor had more to say, his words evaporate into a shiver and his brows draw together. Without the scent, it’s easy to forget. Connor’s still in the middle of heat, and he’s here, running away from his Alpha. He’s hurting right now, needs to be taken care of.
“I’ll patch you up, and you can nest in my closet, for now. We’ll figure this out, okay?”
He helps Connor hop up on the counter and digs out his first aid supplies from under the counter. Mostly it’s off brand band-aids, but he has a roll of gauze and a few cotton pads. He’s as careful as he can manage, pressing a pad to each of Connor’s burned scent glands and winding the gauze around his neck. Other than the burns, his skin is smooth and soft. Will wants to kiss him. Groom him. But he can’t do either of those things, he reminds himself as he puts a knee-sized bandaid over the burned bite mark on the crook of his neck. Then he moves on to the wrists, noting the little purple marks that are probably from Bekker. Will doesn’t stay there long, just wraps up the best he can and steps back.
“Anywhere else?”
“I can take care of it myself-”
“Connor.”
Connor takes a deep breath and spreads his legs, lifts the edge of the hospital gown he’s still wearing so Will can see that he burned the scent glands on his inner thighs. He could tell Connor to handle this himself, but that’s not the sort of Alpha Will is, and when he kneels between Connor’s legs, he can just barely smell the heat on him again, can definitely smell the slick. Not for the first time, he’s caught in a moment of wanting to do more than just help. He wants to touch, to claim.
“Okay. Just lift your leg up a little, I’ll do your left first.”
Will carefully places the pad in place and begins to wrap the gauze, careful not to let his hand brush anything it shouldn’t. Connor deserves better than that. He’s cautious and methodical until it’s time to switch to the other side. As soon as he lets go of one leg, however, it curls around his waist and Connor’s foot digs into the small of his back. He doesn’t say anything, just focuses on the other, but when he’s done, the other joins and he finds himself pulled flush to the counter with Connor’s legs around him and then his arms around Will’s neck, and there’s no space between them. Will’s struggling to smell more than the bleach, and he just barely catches the hint of the slick, maybe because he knows it’s there now, or maybe because his hand brushed against some when he was bandaging Connor’s second leg.
“Connor…”
“Alpha,” Connor answers, tilting his head just slightly to the side. Not submissive, but curious. Teasing. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
He has. Will’s thought about it, thought about giving in to what comes naturally and making Connor feel good, giving him anything he could want. Taking care of him like a real Alpha should. Kissing his lips until they’re swollen, and rubbing his scent on every inch of Connor’s body, and letting a hand come up between them to touch Connor and see if his pleased moans are as high pitched as his frightened whimpers.
But right now’s a bad time. Will needs to be rational, for both of them, even though Connor’s lips start to skim his cheek. He leans away, pushes Connor’s legs down, off of his hips. 
“Connor, right now…”
“Please?”
Connor’s hands cup Will’s face, one of his thumbs stroking along his bottom lip, and his eyes seem so big and sad and empty, and Will wants to just fill him with as much love as he can hold, but it isn’t that simple. Even if Connor wants him, and there’s enough slick on the counter for Will to coat his whole body in, Connor legally and physically belongs to someone else, and he’s in no position right now to be making any decisions like that. It would be easier to do as Connor says, but no. Will can’t. Even with the hands on his cheeks, the soft lips pouting at him. He wants. But he can’t have.
“I’m sorry. Now c’mon, let’s set up your nest and come up with a plan.”
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ahgastae · 6 years ago
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💖 fire escape character bgs 💞
hey, everyone!! this is a bit different from what i usually post, but i wanted to do a lil something extra to make up for missing updates recently. so, i decided i wanted to give you guys a little bit more background regarding the characters in fire escape felonies. it’s not anything too story breaking or spoiler-y, but just to kinda get a better idea of the characters and their relationships with each other. it’s also perfectly okay if you’d like to ignore this!! like i said it has no bearing on the actual story and won’t affect it in any way!
now, in the words of jeon jungkook, let’s get it! (under the cut bc this might get a lil long lol)
starting off w the main trio in apartment 320
l/n y/n
twitter @: thotticus
like her twitter bio says, part time student, full time gamer
y/n’s a youtube gamer and has amassed a pretty sizable following for herself
not as much as jungkook tho, something the streamer will never miss a chance to point out
she mostly deals with single player games, the hot new releases that everyone’s talking about
every once in a while she’ll play something mulitplayer w kook but he always brags about how much better he is than her
“wE’Re On tHe SAmE TeAM yOu AsS >:(((((”
“ur still shit lol”
she also vlogs sometimes too but it’s kinda hard when yoongi doesn’t like to be on camera and jungkook is,,,,,jungkook
the only relief she gets is when she’s in class
tho as a psych major even that’s not very much lol
at least the TA’s cute
jeon jungkook
twitter @: goldnmaknae 
used to be a uni student, now a gaming streamer online
streamer, everyone, not youtuber
call him a youtuber and he’ll flip his shit
(looking @ you, yoongi)
mostly plays online mutliplayer games like overwatch or (to y/n’s disgust) fortnite
loves to flex how many more followers he has than y/n
like he fuckin lives for it
but despite how much he likes to tease her, he will play w y/n on stream sometimes
tbh those are probably some of his viewers’ fav streams
their banter and absolute fucking lack of brain cells between them makes for some pretty goldn moments
(eh?? eh???)
(i’m sorry i’ll just move on lol)
min yoongi
claims he doesn’t have a twitter
(tho jungkook firmly believes he has a secret acct to stalk him and y/n with)
“i go to work to get away from you idiots, why tf would i want to see what bullshit you put online??”\
jk, still: suspicious  (←_←)
yoongi says he works at a music shop and his roommates are too trusting and too dumb to actually look into it
he seriously wonders how they haven’t started to question it
like ffs sometimes he doesn’t come home until well past midnight and neither of them even notice??
how they both managed to get into college is and always be a mystery to him
especially after he caught them trying to wash g fuel out of holly’s fur
that’s pretty much how yoongi’s life goes
when he’s not at work, he’s either trying to keep his disaster roommates from killing each other or he’s trying not to strangle them himself
and he’s come a lot closer to the latter than he’d like to admit
next is the gang above, lovely apartment 420
kim taehyung
twitter @: cgv 
not many people know it, but taehyung is actually the anonymous singer ‘v’!
he keeps his identity super well guarded, only telling the people he pretty much trusts with his life
(yes, that includes jimin)
bc he can pretty much choose his own schedule and work from home he spends a lot of time alone in the apartment
a lot,,,of time
impulsively dyes his hair pretty much every other week bc he gets bored and lonely
(rip jimin’s bathroom)
but!!! his music brings money in and it’s bc of his anonymity that he gets to keep his private life, too so he feels like he can’t really complain
owns the cutest doggo in the world aka yeontan
(admittedly another impulsive decision when he was left alone but oh well)
would literally go to hell and back for his dog
and his friends too, i guess, but being a yeontan stan comes first ya know??
park jimin
twitter @: princeofbusan 
jimin teaches contemporary dance at a local studio
his class are mostly oriented for teens and young adults
(and he totally doesn’t get a bunch of teenage girls that are just in his classes bc he’s cute ofc not lol)
the epitome of ‘looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you’
sweet and understanding while teaching but is constantly one step from tearing someone’s head off when he’s w his friends
most of the time poor tae ends up falling the victim
he understand that taehyung gets antsy being home by himself so much but jimin just cannot handle it always being at fucking 11
sometimes he just wants to come home and relax but instead he has to wrestle his pillow away from yeontan or scrub his hands raw trying to keep taehyung’s stupid hair dye from staining his counter top
so yeah, he does get a little pissy sometimes
but that doesn’t mean he still wouldn’t do anything he can to help his friends
believe it or not, there’s actually a pretty big heart in that smol angry body of his
jung hoseok
twitter @: hopeworld 
hoseok works at the same dance studio as jimin, except he teaches hip hop and modern
his classes are mainly children and preteens
seriously tho all the kids adore him and their parents love that he’s able to give them a break for an hour or two
unlike jimin, hobi looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll
tries his best to act as the mediator in the apartment, even if that means sometimes pissing off one of his two roommates
(spoiler alert: it’s mostly jimin)
he’s probably the most understanding of the three, getting where jimin’s frustrations are coming from but knowing that tae doesn’t always really think things through
but he also hates taking sides, and that’s why he sometimes chooses to stay out of it completely
he’ll hang out at the studio and work on choreography or teaching methods to keep himself occupied
at least,,,until one of them drag him back into things to fix it
just stay positive, hoseok
a little hope can go a long ways
and finally, the namjin condo
kim seokjin
twitter @: lejindary
jin works as a pretty well known chef in the city
a very important skill, he says, bc they would have been dead after 3 days if he let namjoon cook
joon somewhat takes offense to this statement
jin doesn’t give a shit
him and hoseok met each other in college, and kept in touch even after they both graduated and moved in with their own dumbass roomies
jin actually met namjoon through hobi
hoseok and namjoon used to be roommates bc they were in the same year, but joon needed someone else to help him with rent after hobi moved out
hoseok suggested seokjin (partially bc he knew namjoon wouldn’t survive cooking on his own) and the rest is history
kim namjoon
twitter @: rmofficial
one h*ckin smart boi
still going to uni for his masters in psychology
lived w hoseok back when they were both getting their bachelors, but moved in with jin after hoseok graduated
he TAs for one of the bachelor’s level psych courses, but his ‘primary’ career is the music he makes outside of school
namjoon is the rapper RM, insanely popular both locally and online
he’s incredibly grateful, but even he has trouble balancing everything in his life every once in a while
(and on his lowest days, he sometimes wishes he’d gone the anonymous route like taehyung)
that’s why, like hoseok, he tries his best to stay out of any arguments among their friend group
it’s not that he doesn’t care, he’s just got way too much going on to worry about some petty disagreement
but they can still always count on joon to help when they really need it
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inkedcinders · 5 years ago
Text
Coming Out
Coming Out
           It was a fairly normal day, slightly overcast but hot, not that it mattered when you spent all of your time indoors as answer was want to do. How else was he supposed to keep his pasty complexion? Plus, he’d finally gotten air conditioning, courtesy of a friendly donation of the woman sitting next to him.
           Not that he had a choice in the matter, so it was more of a hostile donation.
           Sitting next to him on the couch was his assuredly not-a-girlfriend, sigma, known to the rest of the world as Natalie Abela, daughter to the CEO of AbelaTech. She was insanely wealthy by extension of her father, and so incredibly smart she finished high school two years early and went straight into university. Despite this, she was still so under stimulated intellectually that she’d taken on part-time hacking gigs.
           She hadn’t been terribly well-known at the time, keeping herself to small jobs that she could do from home or a library, trying to keep a low, anonymous profile. It wasn’t like she needed the money, after all, or the fame. It was just a way to pass the time. It most likely would have continued that way if he hadn’t tried to access AbelaTech’s servers through a backdoor route that turned out to be her personal files, and she’d counter-hacked him in response.
           His roommate Buster still bore the mental scars of what she’d uploaded to answers’ ‘ware.
           Answer wasn’t entirely certain how they’d gone from antagonists to occasionally working together, but it was how she started doing the bigger jobs, going on-site and sometimes even shooting things.
           And she was still getting perfect A’s in school.
           From there they’d become friends, with her foisting a cat on him that he’d named Tubby-tubb-tubbs to her annoyance, but conceded was better than “Cat”. The orange fuzzball was a useless mouser but loved to cuddle, and she paid for her upkeep, and he was still a little afraid of sigma through proxy of her father, so he’d just let it slide.
           He was even less certain how they’d become lovers. It just sort of... happened. And then they’d said it was a bad idea, and should never do it again. And then it happened again not long after. A few more rounds of this and they’d given up and just accepted it was happening.
           She was quite insistent that they were not going out, which hurt a little bit for reasons he didn’t want to think about.
           21 now, she’d completed her bachelors and moved on to a masters degree, still being annoyingly vague about what she was majoring in, despite a noncommittal hand wave and “just computer stuff”. She kept him weirdly distant from her life.
           It kind of made him feel like a secret mistress or something.
           She was working on schoolwork, he was doing the boring part of shadow running: sorting through his messages and paperwork. Sometimes sigma did it for him for fun because she was insane, but today it was his burden to bear.
           Sorting through a few messages on a job call, he made a derisive noise at the contents of one, emphatic enough to get the tiny hacker to look up at him.
           “What is it?” She asked.
           “Ah, just some dumb fuck who’s pitching a fit because there’s a known technomancer in a job call,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.
           Her head tilted slightly, assessing. “You’re okay with technomancers?”
           He gave her a look. “Why wouldn’t I be? They’re just people, right? You have to be stupid to get your panties in a twist over a dude who can hack with his brain. Or people with magic. Or the metahuman variants. Lotta stupid people.”
           “There are a few,” she remarked dryly. “I thought a lot of hackers didn’t like them because they were gonna put them out of a job, or whatever.”
           He gave a short laugh. “There aren’t that many technomancers, and not all of them want to be hackers, either,” he said. “And just because they’re technomancers doesn’t mean they’re gonna be good at it. Not many technomancers are better than me.”
           “I’m better than you,” she said mildly, turning back to her work.
           “Well, yeah, you’re better than me, but...” he trailed off as his brain caught up with what she said. He shot her a look, but she was studiously working on her school assignment, not looking at him, and it was difficult to determine what she was thinking. Did she just..?
           That wasn’t necessarily an admission to being a technomancer. It was a pretty ambiguous statement. She might just have been throwing shade by saying the girl six years his junior was better at him than hacking and so didn’t believe his claim that most technomancers weren’t at his level.
           Then again, sigma was a master at being coy. She was naturally rather shy, despite all appearances, and she lived under such scrutiny that she had gotten very good at ambiguous statements that could be taken multiple ways and spun in the way that caused the least amount of fuss. She could be testing the waters, see how he recreated to the idea.
           Because despite everything, technomancers were still under threat, even if things were better than at emergence.
           Answer decided it was best not to say anything. It was a touchy subject for a lot of people, especially technomancers, and if she wasn’t feeling safe enough to just out and say it, he didn’t want to press the issue. If the situation blew up, he’d deal with it then.
           Maybe not the best policy, but these weren’t the decisions he was really made for.
           Sigma did some hand gestures to deal with whatever she was doing in AR, then said, “To the question you’re dying to ask, the answer is yes, I am.”
           Well, that was refreshingly direct. Looking closer, he noticed that her tan skin had gone pale, body tense, hands slightly trembling. Not as unaffected as she was pretending to be.
           “You should really keep quiet about that,” he said finally. “Technomancers just... disappear sometimes, and I don’t think even your father’s money and influence will help with that.”
           She shot him an annoyed look. “Answer, I have been a technomancer for the last five years, I know a thing or two about “keeping quiet”!”
           “Five years?” He repeated, incredulous, and then suddenly so many strange things that had happened over the years clicked into place.
           Then he couldn’t help grinning. “Wait, if you’re saying this now, it means you trust me, don’t you?” He couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited by it; she was actually allowing him a little closer.
           She didn’t quite look at him, mumbling, “Maybe a little... I have been letting you have sex with me for the last three years...”
           He made a derisive noise. “Sex has nothing to do with trust.”
           “That explains so much about you.”
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