#no but all the titans tore into each other in this issue
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hood-ex · 1 year ago
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Damn. Roy went for Dick's throat.
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World's Finest: Teen Titans #5
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dottores · 3 years ago
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i wanna be yours | matsuno c.
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matsuno chifuyu x fem!reader
summary: chifuyu has decided that miscommunication is the root of all evil.
genre: fwb to lovers, college au
warnings: fem!reader, slight angst?? not really, fuckboy + kinda toxic!reader ngl, implied alcohol abuse, implied drug abuse, switch!reader, switch!chifuyu, edging (f -> m), slight dacryphilia (chifuyu is a pretty crier), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (ppl can hear, not see)
wordcount: 5.6k
notes: for @kshira's fwb collab :) again
“You think Rindou’s finally gonna give in ‘n let her hit?”
Matsuno Chifuyu jumped when he heard Baji’s voice directly in his ear, beer splashed from his solo cup onto his shirt and he glanced down at it briefly before looking back up at his oldest friend, who was leaning in behind Chifuyu, looking over his shoulder at something in the distance with a sharp grin.
Chifuyu’s lips twisted down into a frown, knowing exactly what Baji was looking at. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from Baji and looked back at where you were sitting on a table in front of where Haitani Rindou was sitting, elbows on your knees as you leaned your face in closer to his, eyes glittering and teeth gleaming under the dim lighting of the frat house.
“Maybe,” Chifuyu muttered in response, knocking back the rest of his drink as he watched you reach out, running your thumb over his bottom lip. He felt his stomach churn as Haitani Rindou looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, instinctively leaning into your touch. Chifuyu bit down on the tip of his tongue, drawing blood, but he couldn’t force himself to look away, only able to watch with growing discontent as you leaned in closer to Rindou, cupping his face in a way that you never did for Chifuyu anymore, brushing your lips against his.
An ugly feeling stirred within him as he watched you move your lips against Rindou’s lightly because he couldn’t remember the last time you properly kissed him. Years ago, he thought, tears pricking at his eyes momentarily before he blinked them away.
He knew it was just a fucking game to you, a notch on your belt to brag to his older brother about. No matter how many soft touches and kisses you gave Haitani Rindou, you felt absolutely nothing for him--just like you hadn’t for Sanzu Haruchiyo, just like you hadn’t for Hitto Kakucho, just like you hadn’t for Madarame Shion and Hanma Shuji. Once you got what you wanted from them, you would ghost them without remorse but fuck if you weren’t persistent in the chase and it was really starting to get to Chifuyu.
Sometimes Chifuyu really missed the days before college.
Okay, he reconsidered, maybe not sometimes, maybe all the time.
And was it really the days before college he missed? Chifuyu questioned, realizing that no, he loved college. What he missed were the days before you met Haitani Ran on orientation day, which Chifuyu quickly realized had been the worst day of his life.
You had always been closest to Chifuyu of your entire group of friends, and it had been a position he genuinely treasured because he knew you didn’t really open up to people on a deep level. You fucked around a lot, yeah, but fucking around was different from what he had with you. You spent time with him more than just when you were fucking, you told him about the things that bothered you and opened up to him about the issues you’d been having with your family. He had always been your go to person, and you had always been his. He honestly probably would’ve asked you out years ago but he knew you had severe anxiety when it came to commitment so he decided he would wait until you were ready because he had been sure, at the time, that you would one day be ready.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
Because then you met Haitani fucking Ran and it was as if two titans collided. Chifuyu wasn’t sure if the two of you hated or loved each other half of the time, all he knew was Haitani Ran brought out the absolute worst in you and you brought out the absolute worst in him and the two of you couldn’t fucking get enough of each other. Chifuyu didn’t even think your relationship was sexual--at least he hoped not--you and him were just so alike that it was scary and you were drawn to each other like moths to flame.
You met Haitani fucking Ran and suddenly Chifuyu was losing his place in your life as your closest friend. Suddenly all you did was go out and party and drink and smoke and fuck around with anyone that caught your eye. Suddenly the only time Chifuyu ever saw you was when you were fucking in the back of his car or in a bathroom stall at school and whenever he asked to do something with you after, you were busy.
It hurt, he knew it did, and he knew it wasn’t healthy but Chifuyu couldn’t help but long for the days where he’d stay laying up in your arms as you told him about your day, lulled to sleep by the vibrations of your chest. All he wanted to do was go back to the summer before college where he was taking you out on his bike nearly every other night when you got too lost in your own head.
A part of him still believed you’d come back to your senses--that this was just a phase and the two of you would be able to return to those days where it was you and him. Before you had made a game out of stealing girls from Haitani Ran and before you started a competition with him out of who could sleep with more people on campus. Before, when you had only touched him as soft as you were touching Rindou now, Chifuyu couldn’t even remember the last time you had touched him so gently, nowadays you only ever left bruises and scratches behind after fucking.
He could feel Baji looking at him but Chifuyu couldn’t drag his eyes off of you, watching as your hand wound itself in Rindou’s hair so you could pull him closer to you, watching your lips slide against his as you deepened the kiss, tiling his head back.
“Chifuyu,” Baji said, and Chifuyu looked at Baji from the corner of his eye, turning away again when he saw the narrowed bronze gaze trained on him. Sometimes he really hated how observant Baji was. “You said you were over this a long time ago.”
Two years, to be exact, almost to the day. A few weeks after orientation when you started pushing Chifuyu to the side in order to get closer to Haitani Ran. He had been lucky that that Baji and Kazutora had been drunk out of their minds when he told them that he didn’t care about you like that, that it was okay you weren’t spending as much time with him, that it was okay you were fucking around so much with other people. If they hadn’t been so drunk, he was sure that they would’ve been able to see through his blatant lies and Chifuyu knew that would’ve ruined your friendship with the two of them and he wasn’t trying to do that to you.
“I am,” Chifuyu said, voice dull and bland to his own ears.
Baji’s eyes sharpened dangerously, “Chifuyu-” he began but was got off by a loud, outraged voice.
“RINDOU, DON’T YOU DARE FALL FOR THAT TEMPTRESS OR I’LL DISOWN YOU!”
Matsuno Chifuyu had never been so grateful to hear Haitani Ran’s voice before.
He watched with thinly disguised relief as Ran made his way toward you and Rindou, watched as you pulled away from the younger Haitani with a look nothing short of triumphant, watched as Rindou looked between you and his older brother with a flushed, humiliated expression on his face.
Chifuyu was pretty sure you had been trying to sleep with Haitani Rindou for nearly three months now--’the ultimate one-up over his brother,’ you had claimed--but Ran was always there to stop it before it got to far and Chifuyu supposed he should be grateful for that.
He looked on as Ran shot you an accusing look before dragging Rindou away from you and as you laughed, rising to your feet before looking around the room. Eventually, your eyes fell on where Chifuyu was standing and he swallowed thickly as you made your way over to where he and Baji were.
Baji frowned as you drew closer, waving at you briefly before giving Chifuyu a long look and walking away.
“What’s up with him?” you nodded after Baji once you got close enough to Chifuyu, leaning against the wall next to him.
Chifuyu shrugged, “I don’t know,” he said quietly, looking to the side toward you. He swallowed thickly as his eyes met yours, noting the way your eyes had a sort of clarity to them that was almost unfamiliar by this point. Chifuyu felt as if it were the first time you were really looking at him in years, your mind free of the drug or alcohol-induced haze you were usually under. “You been drinking?” he asked curiously.
“Nah,” you said, “Sanzu was supposed to come by with some shit and wasn’t tryna get crossed tonight. Didn’t show up though, wanna go grab something?”
Chifuyu shook his head immediately, “No,” he said quietly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spent time with you when you weren’t drunk or high or both.
He couldn’t look away from you even as your eyes drifted back out to the party--you looked beautiful, you always did, it was honestly something he just couldn’t understand. Even when you were trashed out of your mind, or just having rolled out of bed, you were the most stunning woman he had ever laid his eyes on. Your eyes glimmered prettily under the lights of the room and your cheeks were flushed from the rising heat in the room. His gaze drifted down your face to your lips, which were pink and wet and swollen lightly.
His lips twisted into a frown as he remembered why your lips looked like that.
“What’s the problem?” you asked and Chifuyu really hated how easily you were able to read him.
“Nothing,” Chifuyu said and you raised your eyebrows, finally turning to look at him. Chifuyu turned his eyes away from you immediately.
“Hm? You jealous?” you drawled and Chifuyu’s lip twitched in annoyance at the correct accusation. You only laughed, “C’mon, ‘fuyu, you know you’re my favorite.”
Favorite, Chifuyu thought bitterly, not only.
You leaned in closer, lips brushing his ear and Chifuyu felt hot, breath catching in his throat. “You don’t believe me?” you asked quietly and Chifuyu swallowed thickly. Your breath was hot against his ear, almost dizzying and his eyes fluttered shut as you pressed your lips to that spot beneath his ear that always had him shivering. He tilted his head back against the wall, giving you more access to his neck and he couldn’t bite back the quiet moan fast enough as he felt your lips trail down his skin. “Lemme show you, ‘fuyu.”
No, a small part of him wanted to yell at you, we need to talk while you’re still sober, I can’t keep doing this.
But the larger part of him was already drunk off of the feeling of your lips on his skin, breath shaky as your mouth worked bruises into his neck and your tongue traced pretty patterns against his skin. You were fucking intoxicating, like a drug that Chifuyu just couldn’t get enough of.
You shifted so that you were standing in front of him, hands gripping his waist tightly as you pressed him up against the wall, body flush against his. Chifuyu swallowed thickly as one of your legs slipped between his own, knee putting pressure against his steadily hardening cock and he was sure you could feel his thighs trembling on either side of your leg. Chifuyu drew in a sharp breath, hips instinctively rocking against you and he felt you laugh against his skin.
His eyes finally reopened as you pulled away from his neck and he looked down at you, gaze lidded and chest rising and falling rapidly. A smile tugged at your lips, “You’re always so sensitive,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “C’mon ‘fuyu, let’s go somewhere else else, yeah? Before Mikey throws a fit when he sees us out here.”
His protests died in his throat as his eyes met yours and despite the fact that a part of him was screaming not to give in, he couldn’t stop himself from nodding, throat closing up.
He’ll talk to you about it later.
---
“Hm? Not sure what you mean, Baji, I don’t even like her like that. We just fuck, that’s all.”
You tilted your head to the side as you looked down at Chifuyu, his words from two years ago ringing through your head as you sat on top of him, straddling his waist. You shifted slightly, watching as his entire body shuddered and the pretty pink flush on his cheeks darkened, “Y/n,” his voice was shaky as he spoke, blue eyes glossy and dazed and barely focused on you, “Stop teasing, c’mon.”
He was lucky he was pretty, you decided, because even as his words rang bitter in your head, you felt no desire to pull away from him. You leaned down, fingers resting on his chest as you pressed your lips against his jaw, sucking a dark bruise into his skin.
He had some nerve being jealous, you thought to yourself, savoring in the whimper he let out as your teeth grazed the skin of his neck, after telling all of his friends you meant nothing to him. As if he wasn’t the whole reason you were out there trying to fuck away all your feelings because shit, overhearing him say those words to Baji and Kazutora that night two years ago really had fucked you up.
You never even confronted him about it, you reminded yourself, and your nails dug in hard into his skin at the thought, nearly drawing blood. You just cast him aside and demoted him from best friend and lover to a fuck buddy you met up with every once in a while. What if you hadn’t had the full context?
What sort of context would make what he said okay? you spit back at your own thoughts violently.
You bit down just a little too hard on his neck and Chifuyu inhaled sharply, rocking his hips up desperately into you, “Please, please, I-”
“Stop bitching,” you told him, pulling away and sitting back up. Your nails scratched lightly against the skin of his chest and Chifuyu tugged hard at the tie you had restraining his wrists to the headboard of the bed--Ran’s tie and Ran’s bed, you noted gleefully, payback for fucking Kakucho in your bed.
You rolled your hips against his hard watching Chifuyu tense, a loud, shameless moan escaping his lips--you let out a huff of amusement over the fact that he gave not a single fuck over whether or not the people on the floor below could hear him, and they certainly could.
Tears sprung to his eyes as he looked up at you through watery lashes, “Stop that,” he pleaded and your eyes traced down the single tear that he hadn’t been able to blink away, following it down his cheek.
“Stop?” you questioned, making a move to get off again and you nearly laughed as Chifuyu’s eyes went wide.
“No,” he shook his head, gasping for breath, “No, don’t stop. Don’t. Just lemme cum, okay? Gotta cum, needa cum. Please, ‘been doin’ this forever now.”
“Been doin’ this for ten minutes,” you corrected and Chifuyu nearly sobbed as he threw his head back against the pillows, dark hair matted to his forehead. “C’mon, ‘fuyu,” you said as you returned your lips to his neck, kissing down the bruises you had left earlier. “Wanna be good for me, yeah?”
“I do,” Chifuyu half-slurred, nodding his head, “wanna be good for you, I do, I do.”
You gazed at him curiously as you glanced to where your lower halves connected, watching his pretty cock slide against the black silk of your panties, tip flushed pink and leaking an outrageous amount of precum. One of your hands slipped from his chest and down to his cock, your thumb smearing the precum over his tip, a strangled noise left his lips as his abdomen spasmed.
“Please,” Chifuyu choked out, “wanna touch you, please lemme touch you.”
“Hm?” you hummed, bracing your hands on Chifuyu’s abdomen as you rocked your hips against him, dragging your clothed cunt against his cock. Chifuyu’s eyes rolled back, lips parting, “You are touchin’ me, pretty boy.”
Chifuyu let out a shaky groan at the nickname, “With my hands, wanna touch you with my hands,” he pleaded, tugging at the tie again.
“Why should I let you do that?” you asked, cocking your head to the side.
His eyes were shining with tears, “I’ll fuck you so good, promise, okay?” his words were shaky and you could see his lips trembling, “Fuck you right, yeah? Wanna touch you, make you feel good.”
You raised your eyebrows, “I can’t fuck you good?” you questioned, enjoying the look of confusion that swept over his pretty face, “I can’t fuck you right?”
“Not what I meant,” Chifuyu shook his head rapidly, eyes wide, face bright red, “Not what I meant, c’mon, you know that. My princess fucks me the best, only one that can fuck me right.”
You let a light laugh at his panicked tone, ignoring how fluttery your chest felt at the pet name. My, your mind echoed, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.
You exhaled softly, eyes running over his flushed expression, sweat-matted hair, and the dark bruises running down his neck and along his chest--your breath caught in your throat as his teary eyes met yours. Your fingers ghosted his face, thumb running along his cheekbone, skin hot to the touch. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, ‘fuyu,” you murmured and you swallowed thickly as Chifuyu looked up at you, eyes wide and glossy, staring at you in a way that was remicient to how you imagined an apostle would look upon its landed god.
For the first time in two years, you pressed your lips against his, swallowing the soft moan he let out. His lips were soft--softer than yours, for sure--and he tasted just as you remembered, sweet like brown sugar with a hint of that soy sauce from the ramen shop near his apartment, it was dizzying, almost, but you couldn’t get enough of it. You could still taste the chapstick on his lips, that same flavor he would never fail to compulsively buy whenever the two of you would stop at a store years ago even though he had dozens stocked up already. His lips moved against yours with a sort of familiarity that made you weak; he kissed you as if he had done so millions of times before and with a sort of desperation that had heat spreading under your skin like a wildfire, as if he were afraid that if you pulled away, you would disappear.
You rocked your hips against his, inhaling as his cock caught against your clit. You pulled your lips away from his briefly and he whimpered at the loss of contact, trying to follow your movement with his mouth to no avail.
After a moment’s hesitation, you reached up and unwound the tie from his wrists, tossing it over to the side. Instantly, Chifuyu’s hands were cupping your face, dragging you back down until his lips were on yours yet again, lips sliding against each other’s sloppily, teeth nearly clashing at the suddenness of his movement. You reached down with one hand to glide your fingers over his cock, teasing his tip, and Chifuyu gasped sharply, whining against your lips. You took the opportunity to press your tongue against his, tilting your head to the side to get better access to his mouth.
You felt one of Chifuyu’s hands slip from your face to grasp your thigh and all of the breath was stolen from your lungs as Chifuyu swapped your positions. You took in a surprised breath as your back hit the bed, Chifuyu hovering on top of you. Even with how fucked out he was from your endless denial to his high, he still looked down at you, eyes searching to make sure the new position was okay because it had been a long time since you let someone top you.
You paused for a second before nodding once, touching your lips against his softly, one arm wrapping around his shoulders. Chifuyu let out a shaky breath against your lips and you swore you felt something wet drop against your cheek. Before you could move to check if Chifuyu was okay, he buried his face into your neck, hand slipping down your body until his fingers were rubbing lightly against the silk of your panties, pushing them to the side to dip his fingers into your cunt.
“Fuck,” you gasped out, throwing your free arm over your face as you pressed the side of your head into the pillow, lips parting as Chifuyu’s fingers glided along your slit.
He groaned into your neck, grinding his cock against your thigh and you could feel his precum smearing against and staining your skin, “So fuckin’ wet,” he panted, “feel so good.”
His breath was hot against your neck and in combination with his fingers teasing your clit, it nearly made you light-headed, “Stop fuckin’ around,” you hissed, “Fuck me or I’m going back on top.”
Chifuyu either ignored you or your words didn’t register, and you genuinely believed it might’ve been the latter as he finally pressed his two fingers into you. You dug your nails into his shoulder as his fingers curled deep inside of you, lips parting at the sensation of him stretching your cunt around his fingers.
Holy fuck, was the only intelligible thought running through your head as Chifuyu drove his fingers in and out of you at a mind-numbing pace, thumb flicking and rubbing against your clit as fingers dragged against your walls over and over and over again. He had you tipping over the edge embarrassingly fast but it was something you should have expected: Chifuyu knew your body probably better than he knew his own, just like how you knew his better than your own and he was very, very good with his hands--you used to make fun of him for it but years of playing video games with Baji and Kazutora had him playing your cunt easy like it was one of his controllers. He knew all of the ins and outs of what sent you over the edge so it was no surprise that he had your eyes rolling back and back arching off the bed in record time.
“‘fuyu,” you gasped into his ear, feeling his entire body shudder against yours, “Oh, fuck, ‘fuyu, I’m ‘nna cum. I’m gonna cum.”
Your breath hitched and just as you felt yourself about to be pushed over the edge, Chifuyu stole his fingers from you, leaning back to sit on his heels as pulled off of your body. Your eyes widened in surprise and betrayal, “You-” you began to hiss, blinking away the spots in your vision that had been forming at your impending high but your voice faltered when you saw how fucked Chifuyu looked. Lips bright red and swollen and wet, face flushed, eyes still tearing up, hair knotted and matted against his forehead; his skin was shining with beads of sweat and his fingers were trembling around your thighs, cock flushed bright red and painfully hard where it stood against his abdomen. Shit, you thought, mouth dry as your eyes trailed over his form, you really had edged him to the brink.
“Gotta-wanna-I wanna feel you cum around m’ cock,” Chifuyu said, voice half a slur, “not m’ fingers, okay? Wanna feel you cum on my cock. Feel so fuckin’ good.”
He didn’t even wait for you to respond this time and you gasped lightly as he tugged you closer to him by the thighs, moving back to lean over you, he pressed his lips to your ankle briefly. Your own thighs nearly were pressed to your chest as his tip nudged against your entrance, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his cock slipping against you and catching on your clit, head fuzzy and skin hot and burning.
He pushed into you so slow that it nearly had you sobbing, you could feel every fucking inch of his cock, you swore that every little vein decorating him was molding the inside of your cunt as you stretched around him, making it the perfect fit for him and him alone. He paused when he was halfway in, trying to give you time to adjust, arms trembling on either side of your head as he leaned over you, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut tight. After a moment, you finally shifted, rolling your hips up into his slightly.
“Oh, shit,” Chifuyu groaned, hips driving into yours as he lost grip of his self-control and he let out a moan that was nothing short of pornographic as he bottomed-out into you, “Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight, fuck.”
He buried his face into your neck, muffling the noises escaping his lips as you threw your head back, mouth hung open, desperately gasping for air as you tried to stop yourself from cumming from just the mere feeling of him splitting you open on his cock.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, was the only thought running through your head as mind went hazy and your entire body burned. You swore you were on fucking fire and your nails ripped lines down Chifuyu’s back as he finally drew his hips pack painfully slow before rocking them back into you hard.
“Feel s’ fuckin’ good,” you could barely understand what Chifuyu was saying from how his face was shoved into your neck. He sucked bruises into your collarbone as hips snapped against your relentlessly, every thrust snatching the breath from your throat and you couldn’t even think, your vision was blurring and you felt dizzy and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fact you couldn’t get enough air in your lungs or if it was because of the rapidly rising pleasure building up in you--all you could focus on was the feeling of Chifuyu’s cock dragging in and out of your cunt, filling you up so good that you swore he must’ve been made for you, “So fuckin’ beautiful, you’re so-”
Chifuyu’s voice cut off and dissolved into a groan as one particularly hard thrust had his tip kissing your cervix and his public bone grinding up against your swollen clit. “Oh fuck,” you cried out, pressing your hand against your mouth to try to muffle the moans building in your chest, “‘fuyu, ‘ma cum, ‘nna cum.”
At once, Chifuyu’s hand was ripping yours from your mouth, pinning it to the bed next to you and you were way too far gone to put up a fight about it, back arching up into his chest. Your nails tore bloody patterns into the skin of his back, all you were able to give into the pleasure, vision going white, crying out his name so loud that you knew damn well every single person down at the party could hear you.
“Holy fuck,” Chifuyu let out an obscene moan as he felt your cunt tighten up around his cock, “Oh, fuck, ‘m cummin’. Fuck, y/n, I love you.”
Your mind, still hazy from your high, barely registered the words he was saying as his hips stilled against yours, spilling himself deep into you. All you could do was lay there as Chifuyu laid limply on top of you, breath erratic as he tried to recover, arms unsteady on either side of your head. Your fingers trailed up and down his trembling black, his breath hot and shaky against your neck.
“Fuck, y/n, I love you.”
Your fingers stilled against his back as you finally comprehended what he had said.
I love you.
“Get off,” you said, voice cold and distant to your own ears.
“Huh?” Chifuyu murmured, not understanding what you said.
“Get off,” you said, and you hoped your voice wasn’t as weak as your body felt as you shoved him off of you, his back hit the bed with an oof and you pushed yourself off of it, reaching for your clothes.
“Hm? Not sure what you mean, Baji, I don’t even like her like that. We just fuck, that’s all.”
How the fuck can he say that after-
“What’s going on?” Chifuyu asked, eyes wide as he forced himself to sit up, “Y/n, what’s-”
“Nothing,” you said, realizing he didn’t even remember what he said, “We fucked, yeah? Going back down to see if Sanzu showed up.”
Chifuyu stared at you, lips parted and you forced yourself to look away as a hurt look swept across his face. You tugged your shirt over your head, ignoring the way your legs were shaking as you made your way toward the door.
“Y/n,” Chifuyu called after you and you paused, refusing to turn and look at him, “I-I can’t do this anymore.”
You turned immediately, eyes sharp. The fuck does he mean he can’t do this anymore?
“What are you on about?” you asked and Chifuyu grit his teeth as he looked down at his hands.
“I can’t do this, y/n,” Chifuyu said, “I-This-It’s hurting, all you do is come to me when you want to fuck and then you just leave.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you asked, staring at him and trying to figure out if this was some big joke he was playing on you. “This was what you wanted,” you spit out, “and now you’re saying you’re the one that’s hurting.”
“What are you talking about?” Chifuyu demanded, brows furrowed, “I never wanted this, I wanted to be your boyfriend, not whatever this is.”
You laughed loudly, “I don’t even like her like that, Baji,” you mocked, revelling in the way that his expression slowly shifted into one of realization, “We just fuck, that’s it.”
“Baji told you that?” Chifuyu asked breathlessly, lips twisted down.
“No you asshole,” you snapped, “I heard it myself, I was coming to see if you wanted to play fuckin’ beer pong with me.”
“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” Chifuyu said, voice lost, “Baji ‘n ‘tora, they-they would’ve hated you if they knew how much I cared about you while you were fucking around with other people. I didn’t want to ruin your friendship with them.”
What the fuck-
“What?” you asked, “Chifuyu, you were the only person I was fucking around with at that point. I quit seeing other people midway through senior year.”
“That’s a lie,” Chifuyu said, rising to his feet to throw his clothes on, “Everybody knew you were goin’ out with the Haitanis, Hanma and Sanzu every night.”
“So I can’t go out with my friends without fucking them?” you asked harshly, “The first time I fucked Sanzu was that very same night and you can ask him yourself about it if you want because he was high as fuck trying to deal with me crying after we fucked and he never lets me live it down.”
Chifuyu’s eyes were trained wide on you and his lips were moving as if he was trying to say something but no words were coming out.
“For real?” he finally asked.
“Yes, for real,” you half-shouted, “God, you’re so stupid, why didn’t you just ask me if I was seeing other people instead of just believing rumors?”
Chifuyu’s shoulders slumped, “I didn’t wanna pressure you, I know how you feel about commitment,” he murmured, looking so much like a kicked puppy that it made your anger slip away.
You sighed as you looked over at him, “We’re both stupid,” you finally amended, and Chifuyu’s blue eyes flicked up to meet yours, “I should’ve confronted you about what you said.”
Just as you were about to take a step toward him, the door to Ran’s room swung open and said man was standing there, grinning down at you, “As much as I loved the free porn and show afterwards, I need to grab a new change of clothes.”
Chifuyu’s face went bright red and you leaned back to grab his wrist, shoulder-checking Ran into his door as he laughed at you.
“So, uh,” Chifuyu began and you looked over at him, wide blue eyes trained on you and fingers ghosting patterns on your wrist.
“What?” you asked, not appreciating the small smile that tugged to his lips. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Does this mean I can be your boyfriend now?”
---
Taglist: @mqtsuno @portfolio-of-dreams @spookydraken @mizumellon @marrymemanjiro @k-ryuuguji @kennyb0y @lagrimasdeglitter @crybabylisa @crybaby-mv @sanzusmullet @adeptiixiao @kattykatkat @haitanihime @chaoticyuna @rozcdust @chifuyuslilkitten
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papijean · 4 years ago
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LIFELESS L.A.
Summary: Captain Levi hated when you were so careless about your life, and when you interrupted his bath. 
Warning: Levi being SOFT AF, Angst, mentions of death and blood, 
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: Had a thot about Levi taking a bath and it ended up being soft instead of horny lol. 
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Captain Levi hid his emotion so well that it almost seemed like he didn't have any to begin with. His tired stare only ever flared when he was fighting titans. His lips never turning into a smile, only a scowl when annoyed - even then it was rare. Everyone was so used to seeing him this way that it became normal.
You were part of his team since the start of his journey in the Scouts. Levi always made it so he was the one with the most titan blood on his hands since the beginning. His wordless competition against you was the reason that you were so close - and yet most days it was as if you barely knew each other.
It was a hard mission to return to. Small group, less than a dozen to venture out and watch each other's backs. You came home with less than half the amount after a rogue abnormal showed up out of nowhere. The truth was if Levi wasn't there you'd all be dead. He'd once again put his own life on the line to save his subordinates.
"How many times do I have to tell you, (Y/N), Captain's Quarters are off-limits."
He'd probably gone through the process of telling you to stay the hell out of his room twenty times over and not once did it stick with you enough not to do it the next time. Besides, he never truly seemed anger with your appearance, even if it was written on his face.
The Captain never showed his aches from the fight, but it was at the point where you knew him well enough to know he was in terrible pain. Every return he'd soak in a boiling hot bath to ease his muscles. Even if it rid his tension, it would never erase the memories of watching his comrades be killed.
The scrapping of a stool tore across the floor. Levi watched as you sat beside him, eyes glued to the mud and blood that swirled in the water in which he laid. Your arms crossed over your chest, distinct crinkles of anguish in your eyes that became a permanent feature after joining the scouts.
Levi seemed oddly at ease being so exposed to one of his subordinates. Even though the water was murky and it was nearly impossible to see through it, he had no issue with you being there in all his nakedness. He made no move to cover himself or become weary under your gaze.
His skin around the neck was red, showing off just how hot his water was. The prickling on his skin was nothing anymore. Maybe it was his own way to deliver just a little more pain to himself as punishment for watching his comrades fall again. 
"What," he drawled out. The bags under his eyes were darker than normal. Clearly, this mission took more out of him than he was willing to show to his team. 
The dark water glared at you, reminding you that the blood wasn't of those you killed, but those you lost. Every return, every time you left the damn walls you were harshly reminded just how much death surrounded your life. It was unbearable most days. 
"I hate when you get that look,” Levi spoke again. He despised the lingering silence between both of you. Silence only ever occurred when something deadly was swirling in your mind. 
"I don't have a look."
Captain Levi's eyes fluttered shut as his head leaned against the basin in which he laid. "Yes, you do." His tone was so sure, even when he could no longer see your features. To be honest, you felt a wave of pride ripple through at the fact he was so willing to be so exposed, so defenseless in front of you. "If you're going to continue to have that look I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This room's depressing enough as it is."
The scrapping of the stool against the floor once more caused him to keel. The horrible sound only reminded him of the screeches of the titans they face all week. Nonetheless, he was shocked to have you follow his orders for once. The sound didn't last long, shorter than the previous time you move it. His eyes popped open to see if you really left or not.
The stool sat directly behind him though he found you to be fussing around in his bathroom. A towel was across your arm, a bowl with fresh water, and a soap he used to wash his hair were all gathered in your hands. You could feel him watching your every move, those lidded eyes never missing a single gesture.
He tried to crank his neck back as you moved behind him, though even the attempt had him wincing.
"Move forward," you instructed him. Although he was your captain, it seemed he was the one to be following your orders more often. Levi pulled his arms out of the water, his skin tinged pink from the heat. His hands gripped the sides of the tub and pulled himself ahead, trying everything in his power to hold back sounds of pain.
Levi hated this. He hated when he felt like a little boy again when he felt hopeless and useless. For fucks sake he couldn't even wash his own hair without being in agony. He pushed himself too far on this mission which left everyone in potential danger.
The murky water burned your hands as you cupped it to dampen his hair. His head was tilted back just barely, even if it was as far as he could go. Droplets of water tore down his face, taking the grime of the day with it.
"The only reason I have that look is because I worry," you confessed to him, staring at the long scar covering his shoulder. The scar was your fault, it was your mistake and it should have been the one left on your body, not his. The line of your ODM gear completely missed its target and instead of painfully dropping to the ground, it was Levi that caught your fall. Debris from the fight cut into his shoulder and he was left helpless in the fight.
To be honest, he was lucky to be alive after that day. Your mistake nearly cost him his life and he not once batted an eyelash at it. He never blamed you, he never lectured you for your mistake. In fact, he never spoke of it again. You wondered if he was ever mad at you, maybe resented you but every time you wanted to ask fear over took you. 
Even with knowing the Captain better than anyone, he still petrified you. One look and you’d be rendered useless in fear. 
The captain took in a sharp inhale as your fingers glided over the uneven flesh. There were times where you could see it from afar, the rigid pink skin that was a reminder of your mistake. This was the first time you were able to see it so closely. The cut was far deeper than you could have imagined.
"I worry that one day your blood is going to be on my hands because of some stupid mistake again. I wouldn't care about my own life if I - we - lost you."
His shoulders drooped as you ran your soapy hands into his hair. The prickly stubble of his undercut was getting softer and in need of a cut. Mattes of dirt and blood were entangled in his stark black hair. The more soap you added, the more your hands were tinged pink and brown.
Your words laid heavy on him. You were so willing to throw away your life if he was no longer in it. Levi's life wasn't worth such a high toll. His fingers curled the edge of the basin. His grip was deathly, the hands of someone who killed many and feared nothing. He feared how careless you were about yourself.
"This week... this week was too close, Captain," Your voice lowered. Your fingers entangled in his knotted hair were frozen, nails scratching against his scalp. Levi felt himself putting all his weight into your hands. "You shouldn't have risked your life like that, not for us."
"It's my job as Captain to keep everyone safe," He explained. It was his job, he was the best skilled on the team meaning that when it came down to it all, he could keep his people safe. However, throwing his life away for just one person, it wasn't just you who would suffer, it was everyone.
You opened your mouth to argue more, but fighting with your Captain was like fighting with a brick wall. His opinion was set and nothing would change it - especially not something like this. Instead, you continued to scrub away at his hair.
Levi never had someone to treat him like this before. He never allowed himself to be taken care of, not for anything. Having you so easily break the barrier he kept up, it scared him more than those damn titans. Levi wasn't afraid of losing his own life, he knew the day would come eventually with the risks he took, but having you killed? The thought alone made his heartbeat erratic.
"I need you to promise me something, (Y/N)," Levi spoke as your removed your hands from his hair to grab the jug of clean water to rinse him. You silently waited for him to speak again. "I need you to promise that if I die you won't throw away your life so willingly."
"Captain," your voice threatened to crack. Levi wiped a hand down his face. The action seemed innocent enough with the stress he underwent. Unbeknownst to you, a single tear threatened to escape the corner of his eye. He would never admit that he worried about you as much as he did. "I can't make that promise, sir."
Levi's chest puffed with an intense intake of air. His shoulders fell though he never said anything about your denial of his orders. A stillness filled the room, covering you both with a film of mistrust and anxiety.
He didn't seem bothered when you continued your task. The water you poured on his head was like ice covering his skin. The captain didn't fall into your hands this time as you rinsed the soap out of his hair. He was tense, rigid, as you touched him this time. The breach of his trust for you crumbled in an instant.
Silently, you dried your hands and placed the empty container back to it's original place. Levi refused to meet your eyes as you stood in front of him. The same look you previously wore made it's way back to your eyes again. This time, you feared every string of relationship you had with him was snapped entirely.
As you walked past him towards the door, Levi's hand shot out of the water and grabbed your wrist. With a single tug, he pulled you to your knees to make you eye level with him. No matter how much he tried to stay strong, he couldn't hide the fact of his eyes being glossed over with fear.
"You promise me right now, or you're never leaving these walls again. Do you understand me?" His threat wasn't an empty one. Levi could easily make it so you would never get the chance to go out on a mission again - even if you were one of the better soldiers.
The intensity of his voice, no longer maintaining a cool composure, was the biggest tell he was being serious. He never sounded like this, never so easy to lose himself in a matter of minutes.
"Now, (L/N)!" He raised his voice. It shook you to your core. The wild intensity in his eyes, the increasingly tightening grip on your arm, this wasn't him. Levi wasn’t someone to lose his patience. "Please," he softened.
"Get some rest, Captain. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow."
Levi's hold on you loosened with your words. Stubborn bastard. Why couldn't you just do as you were told? The last thing he needed to live with, in his last seconds of death whenever that moment came, was to worry about you having the same fate. You managed to pull away from him.
He watched helplessly as you stalked towards the exit of the room. No, He couldn't just let you leave with the lingering thought of you. There was a reason behind your driven idea and he wasn't going to let you leave until you coughed it up.
"(Y/N) stop!" Levi's voice echoed through the room. To no surprise you ignored it and continued on your path. It wasn't until he shouted again did you pause, "that's an order!"
Your back was towards him, though by the sound of the water splooshing around in the filthy tub he was getting out of it. The burst of desire to turn and see him left as quickly as it came. A towel was wrapped around his waist, barely hanging on with the lack of effort put into holding it up.
Levi's wet feet stomped across the floor to get between you and the door. No matter how small he was, the Captain always had the ability to make himself appear big. Usually, it was when he faced foes. Today, he made you feel like a pipsqueak.
He fisted the collar of your shirt, pulling you towards him with a deathly hold. "Grow the hell up. Life doesn't stop just because of one person and if you think that you're a fucking idiot. We've lost enough people as it is why the hell would my life matter more than the hundreds we fought beside?"
"They weren't you, Captain," your voice trembled. "If you think I wouldn't trade my life for yours in a heartbeat you clearly never paid attention to me at all in the past decade."
"Life isn't some pissing match, (L/N). It's not about who can make the most damn sacrifices it's about staying the hell alive," Levi only grew more frustrated with you. He didn't want you to care so much about him - or anyone besides yourself for that matter. Caring too deeply for someone else got you killed.
Your life wasn't going to be on his hands that was for damn sure.
"Don't go throwing that shit at me, Ackerman," your mimicked his attitude. After knowing each other for so long your personalities rubbed off. Sometimes it ended deadly. "You're so desperate to be the one to step in and save people you couldn't give less of a shit about whether or not you live or die."
"I do it to save your life!" He raged. Levi threw his grip off of you, causing you to stumble back. His body heaved with every breath, anger coursing through him like blood. "Every time we face those bastards I'm terrified one of them is going to get to you and I'm not going to be there to stop it. I've lost too many, I can't lose you too."
The tremble in his voice nearly sent you over the edge. Levi was more than scared at the thought of losing you. He was always the brave one who could defy death every time he left the walls, seeing him vulnerable wasn't something he allowed many people to see. Levi trusted you to see him like this, he trusted you to take care of yourself so he wouldn't have to bare the pain of someone else's death.
You couldn't break that trust.
"You won't, Captain," your voice was quiet. The ability to stay strong crumbled before you. Holding his towel up was the only reason for him not to be shaking. "I promise," I promise if you pass I'll carry your memory; your life will never be in vain.
"Good. Now get the hell out of my room."
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bcdwhcre · 4 years ago
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“Territory,” Levi x Reader
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Summary: Levi overhears the cadets confessing their feelings for you so he decides to show them that you’re his.
Warnings: ⚠️ smut zoneeee ⚠️
Levi x Fem!Reader
This was requested btwwww
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It was the weekend, meaning the scouts were off of work until another expedition comes along so you had decided to stay inside the kitchen, teaching yourself how to bake simple desserts like cookies or brownies to occupy your mind.
The hobby had suited you, made you forget about the overbearing stress you would deal with during the week of training or going outside the walls which was always a overwhelming time.
Most of the guys sat inside the mess hall, sitting down and playing random games while talking to each other about probably the most random stuff, anything that came to their mind.
You had walked out of the kitchen, being nice enough to set the cookies down on the table to have them do a taste test for you, considering Levi probably wouldn’t.
“I hope this recipe turned out a little better than the last.” You laughed at the memory of last week trying to bake and the boys cringed at how hard it was to chew.
Eren was the first one to quickly reach over and eat it before the rest of them followed, their eyes lighting up and all of them looking up at you in awe.
“These are so much better.” Eren hummed to himself, grabbing another one and you rolled your eyes, keeping the plate there.
“Thank you for being my taste testers. I’ll give you some brownies later.” You smiled, turning back and going inside the kitchen to somewhat clean up the mess you made.
After you left, the boys all looked at each other while eating the cookies. They stayed quiet until you were gone out of sight and Jean was the first one to speak up about his big crush on you.
“I doubt you’ll have a chance, Jean. She’ll probably be better off with someone like me.” Eren was being cocky, nudging Jean’s side with his elbow and he gave him a dirty look.
“I don’t think she would want a Titan shifter.” He scoffed under his breath and Eren had shoved his friend playfully.
“Do we all have a crush on her?” Armin spoke, his cheeks turning a light shade of red and everyone looked at each other.
All of them nodded their heads then quickly went into a discussion on who you would like better, who you would have a better chance being with but little did they know you had a secret little fling going on with your Captain behind closed doors. The secret being Levi’s idea because he didn’t want to cause any issues.
Levi had actually heard the argument from down the hall as he walked down to go do some work but once he heard your name get brought up, he froze in his spot, listening to the boys argue about their crush on you and continue talking about which guy had a better chance.
A sense of jealousy had washed over him, hearing them all talk about you without you being there also made him a bit angry. He finally got sick of listening to them bicker and walked into the room, all boys freezing and looking at Levi’s cold stare.
“All of you, outside. I don’t want to see you back in here until I say you’re done training.” He ordered them, watching them all scatter without a second thought and rush outside.
He moved his hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose and looked down at the plate of cookies that he knew you made. He decided to move his feet towards the kitchen, opening the door up and seeing you near the sink.
“When you’re done, can you come to my office.” He asked, making you turn to meet his gaze and you simply nodded.
“For what?” You turned off the sink, drying off your hands and walked to where he stood by the door.
“Just need some help with something.” He mumbled, tilting your chin up and stared down at you, a evil little plan popping right inside his head as he tried to hide the smirk.
Your stomach had twisted into knots at how serious he looked, you couldn’t help but overthink about what he needed help with as you followed close behind him down the hallway until you both entered his office.
He closed the door behind you, being swift with locking it and went over to the window to see the guys outside training like he wanted them too, hearing their whines and complaints about doing so.
“What is it? Should I be worried?” You spoke first as he stayed silent, your body standing right behind his and placed your hand on his bicep.
“I missed you is all.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, his eyes moving down to meet yours and he lifted his hand up to caress your cheek, the soft contact made you melt right under his finger tips instantly.
“That’s all?” You teased, watching a small smile come across his lips and he shook his head.
“I don’t think you understand, I really missed you.” He said in a much lower tone, his hand sliding back to tangle in your hair and pulled your face closer to his.
Levi’s lips just barely brushed over yours, the dots now connecting in your head and you knew what he wanted and it made your heart pound inside your chest, you were sure he could hear how loud it was.
You were the one to close the gap, pressing your lips on his and he instantly backed you up until you were sitting on the edge of his desk, settling between your legs while his lips molded with yours.
The guys making noises outside the window had completely slipped your mind, it’s not like they could see you through the curtains and the thought of having to be more quiet than usual made you even more excited.
Levi had tugged on your hair, slipping his tongue in your mouth all while thinking about the small plan that had popped inside his head. He didn’t want to really out the secret hook ups you two were having the last few months but the way they had talked about you like you were a piece of meat, he was positive he wanted to show them who really owns you.
He wanted them to hear you moan his name and show them who really makes you feel good at the end of the day. Fuck the secrets, fuck everything. He’s just being the overpossesive jealous boyfriend that will make sure people know you’re off the market.
He wasn’t going to take it easy on you, of course he was going to pleasure you but he was going to make sure to over pleasure you to the point where your sounds will echo throughout this whole base. He was sure of it.
His hands had slipped down to your shirt, unbuttoning the plain white top and pushing it off your shoulders, throwing it to the ground while latching his teeth onto your bottom lip, pulling it back and letting it go as his eyes met yours.
He started to plant kisses down to your chest, his eyes burning into yours while his large hands slipped around and unclipped the bra you were wearing, watching it slide down your arms and onto the floor beneath your feet.
The butterflies swarming your stomach made you almost want to pass out, the way his eyes stared into yours, the intense yet satisfying eye contact he kept while his lips peppered kisses on your bare skin.
Soon he grew impatient with the tint underneath his tight pants only getting bigger as the material got tighter. He groaned, the sight of you instantly turned him on more than you could know and that was his weakness- he couldn’t control himself when he was around you.
He was addicted, he couldn’t get enough as he quickly tore off the rest of your clothing including his and his lips were back on yours in a much more heated kiss, not hesitating to slip his hand up between your legs, brushing his fingertips along your thigh, practically dancing on your skin before he had dipped his fingers to collect the wetness that pooled between your legs.
He knew he had a strong effect on you, it was proven every time he touched you and your cheeks started to grow hot while his fingertips slipped and rubbed between your folds, a soft hum leaving your lips and being muffled against his mouth which only caused him to further his actions.
A finger slid inside of you painfully slow, feeling the warmth and brushing it against your walls that almost made your back arch as your hand reached down to grip onto his wrist, feeling his smirk against your lips as his tongue swirled inside your mouth, the patience he had today to make you unravel multiple times, he wanted you completely weak.
A second finger slid in, continuing his slow pace and hearing the whine linger off your tongue made him pull back to keep his eyes on you, his hair hanging over his face and the smirk never leaving as his tongue ran over his lips, almost mesmerized over you.
“Don’t hold back, I want to hear those pretty moans.” His free hand grabbed a hold of your chin, brushing his thumb along your jawline and started to move his fingers at a much better pace.
It had made your toes curl, your fingernails digging into his wrist and your lips parting open at the pleasure as you let a soft moan slip out of your mouth, your surroundings being thrown out of your brain as the only thing you saw was Levi over you.
He could hear the cadets outside, the evil smile on his face only getting wider as he kept finger fucking you into oblivion, his fingers working wonders between your legs to the point where your head had fell back and multiple profanities had left your lips, making him instantly pepper kisses on your throat.
All you saw was stars as your vision began to blur, the knot building up in the pit of your stomach had made your legs tremble and deep inside your head you had felt embarassed at how fast his fingers could make you cum all over them, he knew your body from head to toe and what could destroy you and make you unravel in minutes.
The entire encounter had lasted for almost an hour, the way Levi had made you cum around his fingers and then around his length while he was deep inside of you.
The boys stood outside, training until they had heard muffling noises near the window. Eren didn’t want to be nosey considering they knew that was Levi’s office window but soon your moans had became loud enough for all of the color to drain from their faces.
The way you continuously moaned Levi’s name, the way he had you almost screaming while on the brick of an orgasm, they grew quiet, their cheeks flushing deep red and that’s when they knew to stop speaking about you.
They knew better to get involved with you or even continue their desperate crush, they knew that they didn’t stand a chance now. You were Levi’s and it was as clear as day.
The embarrassment and the humiliation had spilled over their minds for a long time after that. Now when they look at your face or talk to you, all they can remember is the endless sounds of you saying Levi’s name.
It was traumatizing almost. Not even bothering to look their Captain in the eyes for the first few days, feeling as if they even looked your way that they would be outside doing exercises until their collapse.
Levi had chuckled at the reactions, it was exactly what he wanted. He wanted their eyes to stare at the love bites he left on your neck, he wanted to remember your voice saying his name, it made his ego that much more bigger.
Now he knew they learned their lesson when it comes to what’s his.
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I didn’t really want to go into farrrrr detail with smut. I didn’t want to leave you guys hanging bc idk how much I’ll be able to post over the weekend🤧 quite a busy weekend for meeee.
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shotofire · 4 years ago
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Comfort
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Levi Ackerman x Reader
Overview: Levi’s s/o is struggling with themselves, and personal issues
Warnings: Angst, sad, crying!reader, grief, mentions of death, mentions of blood, anxiety
Another shorty about the shorty (see what I did there)
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The world is a sad place, and can weigh down just about anyone. It has its tricks, it’s tests, it’s heartbreaks. Some see it as a small obstacle that would make them come out stronger. Others feel beaten down by life’s problems and don’t see it ever getting better, or having a positive outcome. At the moment, you were with the second group.
On the last expedition your best friend met her end, and it tore you apart. The girl had been by your side for years, since you were young, and now she’s never coming back. A part of you felt like it was gone, and in a way it was. She was there for you when no one else was. If Levi was pressing your buttons you had her to complain do. When you missed your family, she’d hold you while you cried.
Levi never understood why you never cried infront of him. Not even once. He couldn’t even recall you telling him anything to do with your personal thoughts or feelings, it was always said to your best friend. Being the person he is, he didn’t pry into it. The man let you do your thing as long as you let him do his, and it was fine that way. Now your main source of comfort was gone forever and you couldn’t wrap your head around it.
The changes in your behavior had started quickly, only a day after her death. You walked around as if nothing happened, as if your friends lifeless body didn’t fall infront of you in a pool of blood. As if you didn’t freeze up and stare with wide eyes, body instantly shaking. Levi had watched it all unfold, he knew first hand how traumatizing that can be. Losing someone who was such a big part of your life.
You forced your smiles, even your tone of voice was incredibly forced. It made the captains skin crawl with annoyance and frustration. You’d rather act as if you aren’t dying on the inside instead of talk to him? His anger with you was rising, but he didn’t show it. He couldn’t get too mad too fast, you may need more time. So he gave it to you, more time.
A day turned into a week, then a month, then several months. You hadn’t uttered a word about her, nothing. Levi knows your bottling it all up and shoveling it down. Soon enough you are going to burst, all your emotions are going to come spilling out in tears and sobs. He knows this, but he isn’t going to stop it. You’re a grown women and know when you’re ready to talk. And if the talking has to come the hard way, so be it.
He watches as you begin to break down. The nightmares you try to brush off, the trips to the bathroom to let out a few tears before returning as if nothing happened. You were falling apart, and each day it starts to get worse. Not once does Levi bring up the off behavior, or about hearing your cries. You’re warming up, you’re getting closer to letting your emotions out. He doesn’t want to scare you off.
After almost a year and a half of holding it in, you let go. It’s late at night and rain is pounding on the window. Your body begins to shake as you lay next to Levi’s sleeping body. But he feels your movements, and his eyes open. You’re facing him, eyes open and full of tears. He knows you’re trying to silence your sounds, this has happened before. Except he’d never looked you in the eye as you did it.
Levi reaches his hand up to softly rest on your cheek. The warmth comforts you instantly and you take a deep breath. It’s shaky, and uneven, but you still try. He moves closer to you, pulling you into his bare chest. “Let it out, doll,” he coos, “I’m here for you.” His words have you letting everything go. Your body is shaking uncontrollably as you let out deep sobs into his chest. His arms wrap around you tightly, one hand scratching softly at your nape.
“I’ll always be here, no matter what,” he kisses your forehead, “I love you so much. I’m always here to listen if you ever need someone to talk to. Okay?” You nod, and he feels the movement against his skin. “I love you.” You voice is weak, and comes out scratchy. Levi has always been there for you, and you know this. Talking is just so hard and it takes you so long to open up, that’s why you always talked to your best friend. She’d been around since before you knew what was outside the walls. Before adults had to tell you the horrors of life.
“Thank you for being so patient with me,” you pull back to look into his eyes, which have small tears forming in them, “Talking is just hard.” He smiles and thumps away the tears making their way down your crimson cheeks. “I know darling. I was frustrated but I had to understand what you are going through. You still don’t have to say anything if you aren’t ready, but i’ll drop everything at any time for you. If i’m way up in the air about to kill a titan and you want to talk, i’ll stop mid attack.” He’s poking humor, obviously, and you can’t help but let out a weak laugh.
“She always said you are a good one, that you are good for me.” He smiles, and feels liquid escape his eye. “I miss her too, you know,” he says with his heart aching, “She kept you so happy, and so driven. I can only dream of making you feel like that.” You grab each side of his face and pull him in close, “You do make me feel like that, and soon you’ll see.”
A soft kiss is exchanged, and you two stay like that for a moment. Eyes closed and lips pressed together, trying to drown out all the sadness and worries of the world. This life was not easy and it never will be. He has your head spinning, yet your breathing is even again. “You get some rest and we will talk tomorrow,” he says after pulling away. You cuddle into his chest as an answer and he pulls the covers up as he wraps his arm around you.
“I love you, doll.” “I love you.”
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pangtasias-atelier · 3 years ago
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Endless (W)eight
Well this story kinda ended up changing a rather bit from what I initially planned lol. But I am kinda content with how this was especially cause struggling to write immense sizes. Of which this is cause I kinda just kept making Freyr fatter and fatter lol. 
This was meant to be like a semi sorta sequel to the Joshua Gerik story I wrote but this isn’t even really summer themed anymore. If you do understand the reference with the title, I love you. Anyways, enjoy but please do not fucking perceive me cause while this is far from horny or anything this is self indulgent and feels kinda weird since it isn’t the same characters I gush over and also cause this is like the biggest I've written lol
Askr's Order of Heroes enjoying a now endless summer, the revelry continues to increase throughout the weeks just as the heroes' waistlines. Heroes summoned from the beginning of the Order's creation to those summoned during the current reigning peace partake in the merriment alike. No hero quite forced into enjoying themselves and their time, the bit of nudging from the food's addictive nature and decreased metabolism only strengthens the feeling laying dormant inside a hero, one particular new recruit is completely absorbed in enjoying themselves to the fullest.
The King of dreams, Freyr, appears nothing like he once used to. The God who governs dreams appears to be enjoying his own blissful, hedonistic dream. Never having eaten a morsel of human food in his entirety of living, he more than makes up for it now, Freyr having eaten more food in his short time of being summoned to Askr than any  human could possibly imagine in their lifetimes.
Absolutely corpulent, Freyr's overwhelming fatness is enough to put even whales to shame. Unable to move unlike a whale, Freyr's size is simply from pure, unabashed hedonism. So content and obsessed with stuffing his face with the divine delicacies produced by humans, his ballooning waistline had been of zero importance to him. It still is, what with his ever ongoing display of wanton gluttony. Immobile several millions of calories ago, Freyr's current appetite is enough to put the entire Order to shame. Far more than even a dozen times over. Unable to get up and move around, the same is true for the entirety of Freyr's castle crushing weight. His hands and feet are gone in their entirety. They're absorbed and smothered under the enormity of his weight. The near same is true for even his head with his numerous flabby back rolls and engorged cheeks. An overly ridiculous amount of fat is caked all over his blubbery, rotund form. His appendages are just as useless as the rest of his bloated body. In a constant euphoric dreamlike state, Freyr has no need to do anything besides enjoying himself. Especially with the aid of the summoner. Kiran perfectly willing in enabling the perpetuation of Freyr's overconsumption, the summoner is able to at least transport Freyr from place to place through magic. Albeit at an increasingly concerning amount of magical and physical strain on Kiran's part with so much required to move the meaty mountain that is Freyr. And at the cost of creating more monumental goat sized craters throughout Zenith with every transportation. Not that anyone is able to tell that Freyr is a goat. His once magnificent horns appear to be nothing more than sad little stubs on the overflowing stack of pancakes of a man. Not like most would even be able to discern Freyr as a human either, the man more akin to a gelatinous blob. Completely nude, all people get upon the sight of Freyr is a staggeringly wide wall of blubber. Clothes had been forwent long ago. Not that anyone could remember; Freyr's sheer weight alone is more concerning for everyone else. All his fancy adornments are no more. His bright lei had been torn asunder from his several chin folds and doughy neck. His pristine white shawl had fallen off from his melon breasts and ample back tore the strap. His gold bracelets snapped in half by his overburdened arms and calves. And his flowing lower garments which grew too tight for his widened rear and hips. Clothes too much of a hassle back then, the time and material needed to clothe Freyr now makes a shirt back then seem like an expert working on a simple scarf.
The beach no longer suitable for Freyr, what with the sun's heat combined with his own overabundant body heat, Kiran had brought him to Nifl. The icy cold region suits him perfectly. A nice freezing temperature provided year-round, the nice cooling helps keep him from feeling like a furnace about to explode all the time. Nifl also a rather sparsely populated country, Kiran had moved him to the absolute most desolate place. It had taken a modicum of convincing on Kiran's part at first, Freyr unwilling to hide his splendor and immensity from humans. Until Kiran cajoled him throughout several talks, reminding him that his enormity can be seen from those all around him from great, vast distances and that the move was only to ensure him a proper space to grow comfortably. Freyr large enough to fill up and destroy the entirety of Askr castle from his abundant acres of adipose back when he had first been magically transported to Nifl, his efforts in simply grazing and lazing worked wonders on his body, Freyr now large enough to occupy Nohr's Castle Krakenburg and even the entirety of Windmire and then some. His frame towering just as imposingly as it spreads, the great, mountainous man is indeed visible despite residing weeks from the nearest inhabitable place. His own size indeed a great issue, the amount of food required to merely keep Freyr fed, much less the food necessary to ensure his continual growth, is also another concern with regards to space. The summoner able to find another spell to aid with just that, a small portal floats above his face. His feeding tube comes out one end of it, the other end coming out another portal somewhere in Askr. The contraption alone is the size of a castle, such great quantities of food needed to feed Freyr and Freyr alone. Speaking of food, giving him enough complete meals to satisfy his hunger is completely out of the question. Instead, his feeding tube houses a mixture that Freyr can never quite place. Some days, he tastes an arrangement of the most cloyingly sweet desserts paired with an assortment of decadent toppings. Other days, an impossibly wide array of spicy yet savory dishes enter his mouth. And on even more days, the mixture changes throughout the day, his taste buds never left unsatisfied with the selection. Though such a thing is impossible with Freyr simply caring about stuffing his gullet. Freyr currently devours away at his unending torrent of food with the same fervor he always does.
His growth still occurs at a rapid pace, hundreds of pounds slathered onto his elephantine body daily. But at such a prodigal girth as extraordinary as Freyr's, the extra few hundreds is nothing but a pathetic drop of blubber into the oceanic bucket of lard that he is. Completely unrecognizable as even a human figure at this point, a passing semblance lost tons and tons of weight ago, his stomach puts even the largest of doomsday dragons several heroes once faced. His soft, flabby expanse of lard oozes and flows forward in all directions. His mountainous stomach spreads for miles as far as anyone could see, his expansive pale blubber blanketing the snowy landscape as it takes up the area in its need for more room. Rivers for love handles jut out the side of his mountain of a gut, the ginormous rolls of flab melding into an indiscernible shape. The upper roll of his gut lurches forward onto the lower valley filling slab of fat that is the lower half of his gut. Or what can be construed as it, Freyr's towering body hard to discern. His cavernous navel is in a constant state of twilight from the overhang, the space reminiscent of a black hole. His enormous breasts remain flopped on his great cushiony gut. Freyr's own corpulence the only thing able to rival itself in terms of sheer size, the two titanic tits take up a sizable, meaty portion of his stomach. Each breath alone can crush the entirety of Daein Keep alone. The bright pink hue of his areola is the only real demarcation of his breasts, the sagging tits even managing to mesh together with his mound of a gut. Above his gut is Freyr's unfathomably high amount of neck rolls and chins that simply crash upon one another to form a ringlet of uncountable rolls. Freyr's ass surges out behind him. The tremendous ass cheeks splay out further than even the Mila Tree's canopy. Freyr's ass and gut take up the most space of himself, both assets spreading wherever they please unlike his bloated, sunken appendages. Not that there is much distinction between his ass and gut, both absolutely massive piles of blubber with little shape to speak of. His back is riddled with hundreds of soft plush rolls. His legs useless several hundreds of feasts ago, the two oceanic thighs are bunched up together in a mockery of what a leg should be, rolls upon rings of fat smothering one another to make up a leg. The same is true for his arms, dozens of rings of fat making up his arms uselessly splayed to the side from his uncountable plush love handles. Freyr's cheeks occupy an even greater amount of space than his head, the bulbous mounds of fat splaying out to the sides of his face even as it takes up most of said face. And yet, even at such an inconceivable size, Freyr simply needs more. He craves it. To eat and grow to the absolute inordinately massive that he can possibly be.
The telltale sound of a ripple sounding out, Freyr nearly misses it over the crashing pleasant torrent of his muffled moans from his eating. Knowing what is to come, his monstrous guzzling somehow becomes even more fervorent. A figure comes out of the portal and steps onto Freyr's corpulence.
Kiran is merely the molehill to Freyr's mountain. Yet, even such a comparison is far too diminutive of Freyr's grandeur, Kiran neither even being an anthill, merely an ant in the presence of someone as monumentally fat as Freyr. Always visiting daily to check upon his process, Kiran's next action is not done so often. He closes the portal housing Freyr's feeding tube, the colossal man going without food for more than a second for the first time in weeks.
Freyr's eyes are constantly closed now just as they were when he was once thin and fit, an image hard for those to imagine with his size being what it is now. Able to more easily attune himself to the dreams of others with his eyes closed, he keeps them closed for his own dreams. Dreams of the future. Dreams of living as the god he ought to. Of nothing more than to simply eat and grow. To further display his greatness for all humans to see and awe. To tower over them in immensity and power. Of growing so immensely fat that even the mortal realm will be unable to withstand his divine corpulence and returning back to Ljósálfheimr only to continue eating and growing with the aid of his realm's infinitely expanding space. With his treasured human who benevolently offered unto him the knowledge of human delicacies and set him upon this path.
And so, he opens his eyes as his most loyal devotee rests comfortably atop him. It is only right for him to offer such a pleasure to a mere mortal. For despite the summoner's abilities, that is all he is in comparison to one as great as he. A delicate human before a god. His own titanic waves of lard fills up the near entirety of his vision. The fat from his waves of back fat folding on up to his face just as his greatly stuffed cheeks do.  The only break to the monotonous view of his pale blubber is the summoner's face peering down at his sunken face.
"Kiran…" Freyr's deep rich voice is magnified from all his fat pressing down on him. His luscious mannerism in speaking in a near hazy drawn out whisper is magnified as well, speaking a time and energy consuming task at his monumental size.
A relaxed smile on his face, Kiran allows himself to rest a ginger hand on Freyr's cheek. Unable to lift a single cheek with even both hands, he merely pinches at the plush malleable lard. His eyes never once leave Freyr's own. Keeping them fully open is also too taxing of a task for Freyr. Instead, they remain half lidded. Kiran's hands explore only the near perimeter of Freyr's face. Enough rolls on his expansive lard, Kiran could spend hours simply exploring such a small section of Freyr's corpulence. Freyr's churning stomach is a turbulent, raucous machine with its tremor like desperate growls. Freyr's taxed wheezing mixes in, the two filling in for the silence. Freyr's slight moans trickle in as Kiran's hands wander off towards Freyr's horns, his delicate hands wrapping around and rubbing the tip of them.
"Hnnn… Kiran…" Unable to even squirm from the touching, every single part of Freyr immovable, he remains still as the red tinge of blush on his face deepens and darkens.
"I am here to serve you," Kiran drapes himself over Freyr's enormity, one hand never leaving Freyr's horns. "Whatever you may wish for, I will perform," Kiran's smile widens as Freyr's black hole for a stomach seems to respond to the thinly veiled offer, Kiran always being like this whenever he has come to increase Freyr's intake of food.
"Haah, so hungry,,, I hnngh-require food," Freyr wheezes from a mere sentence, the energy required of him to do anything a foreign concept now. "Much more hah food,,,"
"Of course," Kiran reactivates the portal spell. A bright iridescent blue portal appears above Freyr's face. A ripple in the sky, Kiran reaches his hand inside it and rummages around. Grabbing the thick wide tube, he drags it out of the portal.
"Wait,,," Freyr slowly croaks out right before Kiran brings his feast of a snack to his lips. His stomach wrenches in pangs of hunger at the tantalizing offer of food dangling right in front of his face. "I shall haah have you stay,,," His bloated face puffs out in exertion. It is only fair to offer such a devoted human such a great right of basking in his presence.
Kiran's face softens. "Of course," They respond as if asked to hand over an item, not remaining atop an inconceivably obese and growing man. "Now, I mustn't keep you waiting much longer," With no interruption on either end, Kiran slots Freyr's feeding tube back inside his mouth. Freyr begins guzzling away at it before Kiran even activates it. Kiran huffs in amusement before activating Freyr's feeding machine.
"You deserve to grow as big as you wish. And I would be delighted to remain by your side as you do,"
Freyr merely half grunts half moans in affirmation, preferring to eat and to not disappoint his loyal devotee. Especially as he wishes to find out his possible limit, not that he'll ever willingly stop growing nor that he even presumably has one.
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90slevi · 4 years ago
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Late-Night Talks {Levi x Reader}
TW: threats of violence, cursing (all canon-typical)
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It was the middle of the night. You were supposed to be in bed and resting, ready for another day of intense training to prepare for the upcoming expedition, but you couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts littered your brain, and an unexpected fear flooded your veins. Despite being one of the best soldiers on the Squad (Levi's Squad, too), you were constantly filled with anxieties and worries. Not about yourself, though. Ever since you'd joined, you were prepared to die whenever you left Wall Rose. But... you weren't ready to watch another one of your friends be eaten at the hands of a monster.
Sitting in one of the trees outside the dorm building, you looked up at the sky to see it littered with stars, not a cloud in sight. It was also a full moon, and you hoped that it was a sign that nobody would die on this expedition, which was a stupid thought because at least ten people always died. Ever since you were a kid, you'd wanted to know the mysteries past the walls. There was so much more to life than just sitting inside Wall Sina eating bread and watching people live in boredom, so that's why you'd joined the Cadets.
You'd never been prepared for the mental and emotional trauma that came with it, though.
You were quickly shaken out of your daydream, however, when a very authoritative yet all-too-familiar voice shouted for you at the bottom of the tree.
"Oi, Soldier, get down from there," Captain Levi demanded, a hint of tiredness laced in his strict tone. You sighed and looked down, your eyebrows raised at him without saying a word. You knew Levi hated it when he was ignored, especially by someone in the inferior ranks, but you weren't too bothered.
You were close, after all. Maybe a little bit... too close.
"Hey, are you deaf?" he asked, still unable to notice who it was due to the darkness. "I said-"
"Yeah, I heard you," you responded with a sigh, spinning around on the branch you were sat on so you could properly look at him. Levi gave you a quick glare before aiming his manoeuver gear up at the tree and shooting so he was right next to you. "What's up?"
"'What's up'?" Levi repeated, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I should be asking you that. It's 2 in the morning, get back to your dorm."
"I can't sleep," you shrugged, gesturing at your black pyjamas you were still wearing. Instead of using gear as Levi had, you'd chosen to simply climb the tree, something you'd done since you were little. "Thought I'd come out here and look at the stars or something."
Sighing, the black-haired Captain shook his head and reluctantly sat down beside you, deciding it was no use in telling you to come down. He also couldn't be bothered to drag you down by force. It was clear the both of you were tired; he was too lazy to raise his voice and you had obvious bags underneath your eyes.
Plus, he didn't really enforce the rules on you.
If it was someone like Eren Jaeger or one of the 'brats' who'd just moved up from the trainees, he would've either forced them down or booted them off the tree, but he liked you. The two of you got along incredibly well and were often seen spending time together alone by other cadets, who assumed at first that the two of you were in a relationship. Levi didn't exactly like this rumour and shut them up instantly with a swift kick in the shins, but began to realise he did feel some sort of way towards you that he didn't with other people. And it was the same for you, too.
Unlike Levi, you'd actually felt romantic attraction to people before, despite it only being once and swearing on your life you'd never do it again, so at least you knew what it felt like. After the two of you discussing a possible relationship, you'd decided to not get together in fear of what could happen if one of you were in danger or, even worse, killed. Emotional connections weren't the best thing to occur in the Survey Corps, because you could confess your love one day and then be brutally squashed the next day by a Titan. And although it was highly unlikely that Levi was dying anytime soon, you weren't as skilled as he was and had almost been killed on multiple occasions already.
This didn't exactly stop the two of you from feeling that way towards each other, however.
"You look tired," Levi said, his voice much softer now. You nodded, a small smile on your face. "You can always visit me, you know. When you can't sleep."
"I could," you chuckled, looked down at the ground as your legs hung dangerously off the side of the branch. "But others would definitely get the wrong impression. Plus, I don't think it's exactly... right for a soldier to visit their captain in the middle of the night."
"Who cares?" Levi muttered, rolling his eyes and making your smile widen at his attitude. "I can always make you tea to help you sleep."
"I think the only way I'd be able to sleep was if you knocked me out," you replied, your memories going back to the time Levi had actually made you unconscious just so you could get a wink of sleep. It was something the two of you had laughed about afterward, but at the time... it wasn't really that fun. Plagued with nightmares and waking up crying, Levi couldn't figure out anything other than booting you in the head to get you to have even an hour of sleep. Levi scoffed at your comment and cracked his knuckles.
"I can do that if you wish," he said, and you grimaced, holding your hands up.
"I'd rather not," you answered, remembering the issues you'd had. "You nearly gave me a concussion, and I had that bump on the back of my head for nearly a week!"
"I wouldn't be surprised if you'd got brain damage," he mumbled off-handedly, and you playfully hit him in the shoulder. "Oi!"
"I sometimes wonder if YOU'RE the one with brain damage," you teased, and he hit you back. You pouted at him, and he gave you the classic Levi-glare you were all too used to now.
"If that's what I've got, then putting up with you is what gave it me," Levi threw back, and you gasped dramatically, falling backward. His eyes widened in surprise, one of his arms automatically reaching out to catch you, but you were fine. All you were doing was hanging upside down from the branch, using only your legs as support as you swung dangerously. It was something you'd done for years, so it was fine, but clearly, Levi wasn't used to it. "Doing that will definitely give you brain damage. Get back up here!"
"You're just using that as an excuse because you're scared, aren't you?" you giggled, pulling yourself back up to safety and adjusting your pyjama top. Even if your shirt had risen early, you didn't mind; Levi had seen your body before, so it wasn't like it was something sacred you had to hide. "Awh, is Levi scared that I'm gonna fall?"
"You just looked like a total idiot, that's all," he shrugged, rolling his eyes again as he looked away. You adored teasing him; it completely tore away that tough persona he liked to put on in front of the Cadets and other soldiers and showed a much more vulnerable, real version of the man you cared about so much. "And I don't exactly fancy having one of my best soldiers having a broken bone or two only two weeks before the expedition."
That word. Expedition.
You went silent, your heart racing as you were reminded so suddenly of the impending doom you were so close to experiencing again. Gulping, you began to sub-consciously nibble at your thumb, and Levi noticed your anxieties pretty much instantly.
Ah, so that's why you're up here.
"Maybe that was your intention," Levi said calmly, raising an eyebrow. "To break a bone supposedly by accident so you don't have to go on the expedition. Coward."
"As if I'd ever do that!" you exclaimed, a little louder than you'd intended. The Captain cocked his head with his eyebrows raised, almost judging you until you were able to tell him the truth. He may be cruel with his way of getting information out of people, but he was determined to do it. That way, he could actually help you instead of giving meaningless hope and compliments that were bound to do nothing in the long run. "I'm just... a little scared, that's all."
"It's funny that you think you're the only one," Levi scoffed, rather surprised that you were so nervous you were hiding away. Usually, you came to him with your problems, trusting him enough to share even the stupidest of things, but this was... odd. Either you were absolutely terrified or there was another thing you weren't telling him. "I bet the Cadets are absolutely shitting themselves. C'mon, there's something else, isn't there?"
"And what will you do if I don't tell you?"
"Beat the shit out of you."
You snorted before looking down at your feet. As unlikely as it was that Levi would even lay a menacing hand on you, you wouldn't be surprised if he actually did go on his word just to get the information out. He was caring... in a very strange way. But you didn't mind; the two of you were just as good as each other at hand-to-hand combat, so it'd be a challenge for him to properly harm you as he did with the Cadets and lower ranks.
"You'll laugh at me."
"Have I ever laughed at you, brat?"
"Yes."
Levi was silent, trying to recall the last time he'd ever even laughed, never mind at you. Although... there was one time where he'd made fun of you for something pretty dumb, and then there was another time when he chuckled at you when you dropped a piece of bread and flipped it off, and then-
Okay, you'd made him laugh more times than he'd like to admit. But that wasn't the point.
"That's a lie," he ironically lied, his face still as blunt as ever despite joking around. It was something you surprisingly liked about Levi; his dry sense of humour was just as dry as he acted, and it suited him well. "Now, brat, tell me."
"It's just the same old stuff, really," you shrugged, sighing as you looked up at the sky. You had no idea what time it was, only that it was between 2am and 4am just by glancing at the moon and knew you ought to get at least a bit of sleep. You yawned, and Levi noticed. "It's stupid because I know for a fact it'll happen every time I leave these walls, but I don't want people I know to die. Especially those I care about."
"Tch, everyone feels like that," Levi said, thankful it wasn't anything more serious. Just the average 'I don't want people to die' talk. "Even Eyebrows, which is shocking, I know."
"I know, but..." you trailed off, not wanting to talk about your worries about Levi. He had the most dangerous part of the whole expedition in the next two weeks and although you knew he could take it, there was still an incline of worry that spread across your body like a parasite. Sighing, you yawned again, pressing your palms into your eyes to try and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Levi raised his eyebrows and put his hand firmly on your thigh.
"Well, if you're not gonna tell me, then you're going to bed," he insisted, standing up and holding his hand out for you to take. Reluctantly, you rolled your eyes and took it, being pulled to your feet and pulled into his side. "And if that means knocking you the fuck out, then so be it."
"And what if I don't wake up in time?" you asked, watching as Levi shot into the ground with his gear and pulled you with him. He sighed, grabbing harshly onto your wrist so you didn't run away.
"Then you'll have to train even harder when you do," he said bluntly, and you groaned in disapproval, trying to ignore the slight pain in your wrist he was causing. "Because I'm not having your stupidity and exhaustion cost you your life. Got it?"
"Got it," you muttered, pouting as he dragged you up the stairs in the dorm building. It appeared that he was taking you to his room to make sure you actually slept instead of sneaking back out of your window. Although, you didn't mind spending the night with Levi. Even if the two of you didn't sleep, you still ended up having late-night talks and even at some points drinking. Luckily, he had a very high alcohol tolerance, being able to drink over a bottle without showing he had done in the morning. You, on the other hand, weren't so tolerant... "God, people would think you've been hired to look after me or something."
"It feels like that 90% of the time," he replied, and you grinned, entering his room.
Once again, it was just as spotless as last time you'd been in there. It was constantly organised, with his bed covered in crisp white sheets and a pile of papers displayed neatly on his mahogany desk. Books stood in alphabetical order on his bookcase, completely dust-free, and his curtains were closed symmetrically over his window. Two lit candles sat on his desk, presumably lit just before he went to fetch you, and his green cloak lay folded-up over the side of his sofa. It was a comfortable room, and one you really enjoyed visiting.
"So, am I knocking you out, or are you gonna sleep, Y/n?" Levi threatened, flopping down onto his sofa as he unbuckled his gear. For someone who only got two hours of sleep per night if he was lucky, it was pretty hypocritical that he was trying to get you to go to bed. It was also nice to hear him call you by your first name for once, instead of a stupid nickname like 'brat' or 'dumbass'. "Choose quickly, because I'd quite like to finish the book I was reading."
"I think I'd rather sleep without getting punched in the face," you answered with a grin, flopping down onto his bed that you'd slept in multiple times before. For some reason, it was always comfier than the bed you had in your dorm room, and despite not being a double bed, it managed to fit the two of you in easily if you both wanted to share.
Then again, you both weren't the tallest of people.
"Yeah, that's the better option," Levi sighed, sinking calmly into his sofa as he pulled off his boots and tucked them beside the door. The room was silent for a few minutes as you closed your eyes on top of his bed, not even underneath the duvet. It was still unlikely you'd sleep much, as there was a lot on your mind, but at least you were resting. Then, Levi's voice entered the room. "You're not going to sleep, are you?"
"Not really," you muttered, your eyes cracking open. You stared at the ceiling, hearing the man's footsteps walk over and eventually stop. Turning your head, you noticed he was squatting beside the bed, his face pretty much right next to yours. His expression was much softer now as he watched your eyes move, and he reached up to brush your hair from out of your face.
"I'm not an idiot, I know there's more on your mind than just the stupid expedition, Y/n," he said quietly, a stern tone to his voice despite being calmer than usual. You hesitated before looking away, rubbing your face as you tried to gather your thoughts. Unlike usual, you had no idea what had you so on-edge, and you couldn't explain it to Levi if you tried. "And if you don't want to tell me, then that's fine. But you really need to sleep, because I don't want my next dead recruit to be you."
That was it. That was what was on your mind.
You'd never really gotten over your feelings for Levi; you'd just pushed them to the back of your mind until you hopefully forgot about it, but it was impossible. Every time you were in his room, every time you even spoke to him, and every time he looked out for you just deepened your feelings, and it stressed you out. You didn't want to love someone, especially while the two of you were in the Survey Corps. And the fact he made sure you weren't at the risk of dying, more than he looked out for the other Cadets and Soldiers, showed he felt the same. A small smile appeared on your face.
The world was cruel. Too cruel.
"Well then, goodnight, Levi," you said softly, reaching your hand up as you brushed his hair out of his eyes as he'd done to you just a minute ago. You then lifted your legs up and tucked them under the duvet before closing your eyes. You knew Levi was confused, but it was better for him to be like that than to be crushed with you admitting your feelings all over again. "I'll maybe tell you soon, I dunno. But for now, I'm gonna get some sleep. Feel free to join me!"
You heard Levi 'tch' under his breath with a small sound of amusement before he walked back to the sofa. He also mumbled something inaudible to you, but you didn't really care.
Although you couldn't do anything about it, you were glad you'd finally come to terms with your worries.
If only Levi could too.
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razieltwelve · 3 years ago
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Close Combat (Final Fall)
Once, long ago, opposing ships had drawn opposite each other on the high seas of Remnant to delivery devastating broadsides. That age had long since passed, but there were still battles to be fought, if in space instead of upon the open sea.
X      X      X
No one spoke on the bridge of the Imperial dreadnought Valorous Heart. Instead, the minds of everyone on board were linked in a sort of quasi-telepathy established by the vessels artificial intelligence. Commands were issued faster than thought itself and obeyed just as quickly. Organic and machine worked in perfect unison to ply their deadly trade.
“They’re pulling alongside,” Heart, the artificial intelligence of the ship, murmured through the shared comms. “They’re looking for close combat.”
The ship’s captain, Artanus, took a split-second to consider the situation even as Heart gently pushed the results of thousands of simulations into his mind. The captain’s lips curved up into a smile, and he ran one hand through his thinning grey hair.
“Oblige them.”
X     X     X
The Federation dreadnought, Flame of Adan, had led the Federation’s attack on the systems held by the House of Arc. It had delivered a crushing blow, successfully defeating the Arc flagship in orbit over Benevolence IV. The one hundred mile long ship had gone down, splitting into several pieces before impacting the surface with extinction-level force.
This time it sought to repeat the feat against the flagship of the Imperial suppression force that had arrived to shield the fleeing remnants of the battered Arc and Lie Fleets. Blasting its way toward the heart of the Imperial formation, Adan, the artificial intelligence, had almost expected his foe to seek shelter in his escort. Instead, he received a reply worthy of an Imperial dreadnought espousing a sentiment he shared.
“Death before dishonour.”
His captain chuckled at the message.
“Move in for close combat.”
X     X     X
In an age where weapons could fire at interstellar distance, it seemed absurd to close to within only a few hundred miles of each other before opening fire. Yet at the same time, it made an awful kind of sense. Electronic counter measures, evasive manoeuvre, stealth technology, and protective advances had all increased the survivability of ships to match their weapons output.
But at this range, there would be little such frivolity. Instead, they would be betting everything on the skill of their crew, the advancement of their systems, and the quality of their engineering and weapons
As an Imperial dreadnought, Flame would put his systems, crew, and engineering against any ship in existence. The Empire’s finest shipwright had designed him and his classmates, and the mightiest of the navies shipyards - a multi-system manufactory - had laid his keel and forged his hull, whilst the Dia-Farron themselves had installed only the deadliest of weapons. For a hundred years, he had stood unyielding in the face of the Empire’s enemies. He would not turn and run, not before the Adan, not before any vessel.
For the Adan, it was a simple matter. If the Flame could not be defeated, then the Empire’s forces would surely triumph. The Flame possessed superior ranged weaponry, but the Adan was one of the most advanced dreadnoughts in the Federation’s fleet, and his crew was amongst the most experienced. Moreover, his weapons were designed specifically for close combat ship-to-ship warfare.
For a brief moment - a handful of the supremely swift processing cycles of his kind - he admired the other ship. The Flame was magnificent, a testament to the Empire’s naval tradition. And then the admiration gave way to excitement, to joy. He was a dreadnought, and battle was his trade. 
“Weapons free!” his captain ordered through the quasi-telepathy, dozens of other, more specific orders being transmitted to gunners, engineers, and other staff. “Engage!”
X     X     X
Thousands upon thousands of laser batteries lit up, spanning the gap between the two vessels with impossible speed. Missiles followed, and the space between them lit up as their shields erupted in coruscating defensive displays. Minute holes appeared, bored into the shields by the handful of specialised shield-disrupting missiles that had managed to connect only to be patched over by dedicated shield projectors.
The rail guns opened fire next, titanic mass driving behemoths that could slag planets. Projectiles tipped with exotic materials designed to unleash localised singularities or anti-matter driven explosion amplified to absurd degrees rocketed forward at close to light speeds, each weighing thousands of tonnes.
This was the modern equivalent of the broadside, a glorious no-holds-barred barrage that sought to bury the opponent beneath sheer weight of fire. The shields of both ships flickered beneath the assault, enough power to crush solar systems raging against their defences. In a longer-range duel, there might have been an option to unleash nova cannons or other more powerful weaponry, but not at this range.
The plasma batteries, photonic-kinetic weapons, and singularity weapons came online last. The shields of both ships finally splintered, and space and time went insane. Weapons that defied reality and tore the very fabric of space-time sent sensor pods wailing in distress, and at last, at long last, the final layer of the ships’ defences was called into play.
Their armoured hulls.
Neutronium, Infinitum, and materials so exotic that they could not have been produced in more than trace amounts only a few centuries ago made up the armoured hulls. Star-killing forces carved furrows in the hull, and the klaxon of alarms rang out on both ships as furrows became cracks and holes. 
Engineering crews rushed to stymie the damage alongside drones as the two ships continued their relentless assault. But slowly but surely, one of them was gaining an advantage.
X     X     X
Flame passed the message onto his captain and crew. There would be no evacuation. Short-range teleportation and so on would be impossible with this much exotic radiation still in the area thanks to the weapons exchange.
“We could surrender,” Flame offered. “They would let us live.”
The captain sent the question through the telepathic comms channel, and the reply was unanimous.
“Overload all reactors,” the captain ordered, a small smile on his face. “For the Federation!”
X     X     X
“Sir, the Flame has overloaded his reactors,” Heart said quietly. “They’re going out shooting.”
“Understood.” Artanus nodded gravely. “Then the least we can do is oblige them.” He took off his hat. “Match output. Destroy the Flame.”
X     X     X
As Flame’s hull came apart and his crew died, he took a few cycles to reflect on his impending death. There would be no backups for him. The interference from the lingering radiation was too great to transmit a copy, and the version of him in the archives was far too outdated to even be considered a copy of the AI that he was now.
“Congratulations,” he sent the words across the void to Heart. “You’ve won.”
The other AI was sombre. “You fought well. It should not have come to this.”
“But it did,” Flame replied. “And so here we are.”
His processors began to stutter as an explosion tore through his innards, vaporising his reactors and sending energy spikes radiating throughout his systems. 
“It looks like this is the end for me,” Flame said. He’d thought that he might be frightened when this day came. Instead, there was only quiet satisfaction. He'd held nothing back. He and his crew had been as close to perfect as it was possible to be. Their loss could not be laid at their feet. 
“You can keep talking if you like. I’ll listen.”
And so, for the last few cycles before he vanished in a blinding explosion, Flame told Heart about the beauty of the shipyards where he’d been built, of his brothers and sisters who had fought so proudly for the Federation. As the last cycle came, he sent across a wave of emotion, what passed for a smile amongst their kind.
“It was an honour to face you.”
“The honour was mine.”
X     X     X
Author’s Notes
A glimpse of ship-to-ship combat in that era.
If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.
I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here.
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sweet-sammy-kisses · 3 years ago
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Make the World Bleed Chapter 2
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Written for @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt a house divided Title: Make the World Bleed Chapter 2 Fandom: Batman Pairing: Leading up to Jason/Tim/Conner Notes: Dark Titans, Core Four friendship, Bats working out their issues Fic Summary: The Core Four have a bond that will never break, will never fade. When one of their own is hurt by someone who should be family to them the other three respond in force.
When Tim's line is cut and he is seriously injured Conner, Bart and Cassie are ready to declare war against anyone who stands in their way of helping Tim, even if that means making a devil with the Devil himself, Ra's Al Ghul. This chapter summary: The fallout of Damian’s actions begins.  You can read this story on AO3 Word Count this chapter: 2046
There was tension in Wayne Manor, one that was sitting on a powered keg waiting to blow. Ever since it had gotten out that Damian had cut Tim's grapple line that left him gravely injured. Lines had been drawn those on Tim's side, those on Damian's side and those in the middle.
Jason, Cassandra and Helena were firmly on Tim's side while Dick and Stephanie were on Damian's side. Duke, Kate, Babs, Alfred and Bruce were in the middle.
"I blame myself, Master Bruce. I saw the hatred that Master Damian held for Master Tim but I stayed silent and how I regret doing so." Alfred admitted to Bruce.
Hating the fact that Alfred blamed himself Bruce placed a hand on the shoulder of the man he had long considered his second father, "You are not to blame. I am. As their father, I should have spoken up when I saw how Tim was staying away and Damian still saw him as a threat." Bruce knew that he had failed as a dad to both his youngest sons and now Tim was paying the price.
"As much as I hate to say it old man, you were lost in time for a lot of it. So that isn't your fault. Then you had to recover from that. No, we," Jason gestures to him, Dick and Stephanie, "should have done something. We were here for all that. We also should have backed up Tim when he said he believed you were alive. Yes, he sounded out there but we let him travel the world alone with no one to turn to. His friends dead, his supposed girlfriend having faked her death." Jason shot Stephanie a glare, he still wasn't sure what the purpose was to fake her death while Tim had been dealing with losing Kon and Bart. "He had been grieving and not one of us thought to help him."
"Don't put that on me! No one believed Tim, not even Cassie!" Stephanie growled out. "No one did! Tim sounded crazy."
"Indeed, Drake clearly belonged in Arkham it is too bad that Grayson had such a weak spot for that fool," Damian spoke for the first time since everything that had gone down. "If I had it my way Drake would have been locked away in Arkham getting the help he needed and no longer our problem."
"Then I would still be lost in time and Dick would be stuck with the cowl he didn't want," Bruce spoke up and Damian stilled at his father's words.
There was an air of disappointment around Bruce, "I have failed all of you so greatly. Tim the most. My son, my bright and beautiful son who pulled me from the darkness and saved my soul, I failed him and now I may lose him before having a chance to make this all right." Bruce looked so worn that Jason felt his heart thaw a little to the man he still saw as his father.
"You're not the only one who failed Tim. I was a lousy big brother and even worse partner to him. I told him that he was my partner but never supported him at all." The guilt poured off of Dick as he buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs. "I didn't just take Robin from him but I turned everyone against him and I made them doubt his mind. And now I might never get the chance to make things right with him. I am a horrible big brother."
"Not horrible. Just lost sight." Cass whispered as she curled up around Dick. She hated seeing her family in so much pain and she knew that this was only the start as they waited for word about Tim's condition from his friends.
Dick's shoulders shook as he drank in the comfort that Cass was offering him, even though a great part of him didn't think he deserved it.
Damian couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand why everyone was making such a big deal about what he had done to Drake, they had never cared before. He had tried and nearly succeeded in killing Drake before and none of them acted like this before.
"Damian," Duke's voice was soft as he approached him, "This is what Dick has been trying to show you, that blood doesn't always mean family. Sometimes family is those you chose and we all choose each other. Tim is a part of our family no matter how far he has drifted from us."
"It still doesn't make sense! I am father's blood son! I am the rightful heir to Robin and Batman. I was just taking my place and getting rid of the weak link and that is Drake. This isn't the first time that I have sought to harm Drake so why now is it that you are all like this when none of you said a word before. You all just stayed silent as I did my best to get rid of Drake, I thought you all agreed with me!"
Damian's words struck a chord in all of them. Not one of them could call him out on them, there wasn't a single lie in any of his words they had just all turned their back thinking they would work it out.
Two strong hands landed on his shoulders and Damian found himself looking into his father's eyes as the man knelt before him and pulled him into a hug, "I am sorry Damian, I have failed you as a father. I should have spoken to you more to ensure that you understood that we are not the league, that the league way of thinking, their teachings are not mine. And for that, I am truly sorry. I just wish it didn't take me losing another child to open my eyes."
While watching everything Jason moved towards Alfred, "Alfred, what did Bruce mean that Tim saved him?" That couldn't be right Talia had shown him how easily Bruce had moved on from him.
There was a broken look in Alfred's eyes, "Ahh my dear Master Jason it seems that there are still some things that you still do not know. I believe that there is something you need to see it might shed light on those lies Talia told you and let you see the truth of what your death did to your father."
"I think your right, Alfred." It was time Jason saw the truth for himself.
+******+
"Ahh, boss we should have never left you alone," Owens commented as he took in the broken body of Tim Drake, the man who had taken on and earned Ra Al Ghul's respect something only Batman had ever done. His fingers itched to reach out and touch him but he was too scared he might hurt him more.
"You did the right thing in calling us," Z informed the trio he knew as the other members of the core four, Tim's best friends.
"He ain't going to be happy." Pru did not want to see what Ra was going to do when he learned what had happened to Tim and who was responsible. Tim was his chosen heir and it won't matter that Damian is his grandson he will not be spared his wraith.
Conner, Bart and Cassie exchanged a look before in sync they crossed their arms over their chests. "Right now we don't care about anything that Ra might do to the Bats our only concern is how to help Tim," Conner explained.
The trio of assassins exchanged looks, "If you do this you will be making a deal with the devil, you know that, right?" Owens could see where they were coming from, he could understand caring about someone so much that they would do anything to save them. He felt that way about Z, Pru and Tim.
"We don't care. It is a deal we are willing to make." Bart spoke up his voice leaving no room for argument.
"Then I shall inform our master," Z announced and the remaining members of Core Four knew that there was no turning back now.
+******+
"Why didn't you ever show me these," Jason demanded as he tossed the black and white photos he had printed off of the Bat computer showing Batman senselessly beating a mugger.
"I didn't want you to see me like that. Besides you were so twisted up by the pit and Talia that I didn't want to send you over the edge." Bruce explained he had known that Alfred was going to show Jason what he was like after losing him and before Tim came into his life.
A mumbled curse escaped Jason as he flopped down on the couch in Bruce's office and glared at the man behind the desk, "It might have saved Tim from a lot of pain, pain that I caused him. I have his blood on my hands, Bruce! I can't ever change that! And now I might never get the chance to make things right!" It tore at Jason to know that he had been used as a pawn, that he had harmed someone who didn't deserve it. "Why does Talia hate Tim so much that she would twist me and her son into being pawns to get rid of him?"
A sigh escaped Bruce, "I don't know sport. That is something I have yet to piece together. I am sorry that you were used by her the way you were, she had no right to drag you into this. And for the reason, I didn't tell you was because I didn't want you to see me as a monster."
That had Jason sitting up in his spot.
"I was in a dark place, so dark that I no longer cared. I was so full of rage, anger and guilt that I unleashed that on anyone and everyone that I could. I showed no mercy even towards those who were just stealing so they could feed their families. If Tim hadn't come into my life I might have robbed another family of their loved one. The last thing I ever wanted you to think or believe was that you aren't love or deeply missed and mourned. I mourned you every day." Bruce's voice choked up in the end.
"Do you know how long I have wanted to hear that from you? This family needs to start communicating." Jason refused to admit that he had tears in his eyes.
"We do chum, we might not be in this mess if we did." Bruce wanted Jason back in his life, in his family but he hadn't wanted it to be at the cost of another one of his children.
A series of knocks at the door broke the moment and both eyes flew to the doorway where Dick was standing behind him was Diana, Clark and Barry all with a serious look on their faces.
A feeling of dread overtook both Bruce and Jason, "What's wrong?" Bruce demanded, he feared that it had something to do with Tim.
The world caved out from under his feet as Diana informed him, "We have learned that Cassie, Bart and Conner have made a deal with Ra to help Tim. They have left with him."
+******+
Earlier
Ra Al Ghul was not happy, his chosen heir had almost been killed by his grandson. "This will not do. I can help Tim. I can heal what has been taken from him." Ra offered.
Conner, Bart and Cassie exchanged a look this was their last chance to back out. To try and find another way to save Tim. But they didn't know if they had the time or the options.
"We will be coming with you," Conner informed him, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes beginning to turn red. Next to him, Bart's hands began to vibrate recreating the threat he had given to Damian and Cassie looked every inch the Amazon warrior she is.
Ra's lips curved up into a smirk, "I believe that is agreeable." Oh yes, he could use such fine warriors at his side and his heir would be thrilled to have them there as well.
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nochiquinn · 4 years ago
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the saga of edda earth book 3 part 2: god arguments. godruments.
tip jar
That is almost exactly how people are indoctrinated into cults. Well, it’s also how people are indoctrinated into military life, too, if I’m being honest here.
these are the same picture
His telegrams were always so . . . brief.
Zaya, darling, they were telegrams, they were brief by necessity
She knew that the godslayer was a male as tall as a titan, and not this slip of a girl...and yet she saw Zaya becoming...consumed by the Aether, consumed by Fate...
zaya u in danger
Blind panic and total horror assailed Sophia. She hadn’t seen this. She hadn’t seen this. She was future and past and present, and none of them showed her this, she knew she’d never seen this, not ever, not once. Something had changed.
me when someone changes plans on me at the last minute
She’s always taken what she sees to be the truth.
She's a fucking oracle, what she sees IS truth, and you might have had an actual relationship with her if you'd considered that for two seconds
Sigrun had a private tally. Amaterasu, Saraid, Lassair, Zhi, Prometheus, Hecate, Loki, and possibly Trennus and Sigrun herself. Arguments could be made for adding Rig and Reginleif to the list.
The God Squad
They’d connected the two realms. A door between them, instantly transited, so that the Forest and the Keep were always within easy reach of each other.
p o l y
Nith grumbled and shrank himself down to lindworm size, comparable, really, to Fenris’ own avatar in this hall. You fear for your dignity? Sigrun asked, silently.
I have only recently had dignity. There are reasons that I prize it. That was a grumble.
niiith
She’d never done this before, and she suspected that the instant she stopped concentrating, her usual self-image would assert itself, and she’d shrink back down again.
is Shapechange concentration?
Loki’s thoughts slipped into her own. You’re looking well, neighbor. If heavily disguised.
loki don’t be a little shit
The memory, if memory it was, refused to crystallize. But she was left with the feeling that this had...somehow happened before, and she felt like a child caught wearing her mother’s finery. Too big for her, and sure to be punished for it.
ah, yes, the ptsd baby gate
Will you next hide in the Veil with Ares and pleasure one another?
thor.
There is no honor left in Rome’s gods. She put her hands down on the surface of the table, suddenly aware of Nith looming behind her. And I wish, with all my heart, that Livorus had been able to stand with us, when a Judean man, Adam ben Maor, pulled the trigger and killed Tlaloc. When that same man slew Inti, and I slew Supay. When he and Niðhoggr slew Hel, and when Niðhoggr slew Dagon, and when Kanmi Eshmunazar, Adam ben Maor, and the Carthaginian sorcerers tore Baal-Hamon apart. Because then, Antonius Livorus might stand among us now as a god. He would be far worthier of that distinction than you.
you ever just tell a whole pantheon to go fuck itself
As she stepped out into the entrance hall once more, she found herself halted as Nith’s entire tail wrapped around her, from her heels to her throat. No threat, but also, implacability.
it’s as good a way as any to make someone listen while you chew them out
“You should be better than that! You are better than that!
Brothels are clean, well-regulated, and licensed, but if you use one you're a desperate loser
My people wouldn’t let me throw the title of king around the neck of any of my other relatives. They’re of the opinion that I got us into this mess; I am apparently welcome to lead us out of it.”
Trennus deal with your issues challenge
sit there fore a moment
there are a lot of really obvious typos in this one
but Adam had seen one clip of Tyr and Thor, back-to-back, fending off the grendels, while some goddess in black armor had swooped in above them
🤔
Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli.
I'm not making fun of the word or the language. I'm not. But my monolingual ass got an immediate migraine upon seeing this particular collection of letters.
He created a duplicate of himself, just as opaque as he was to Veil senses
“I invoke Duplicity”
And every god-born descendant of Totec screamed as Mercury found the fine cord of power that connected them to their ancestor, and used Totec’s own power to burn them from within.
that part in Order of the Stick with the dragon bloodline
He was, at the moment, playing some sort of game with his cupbearer, Ganymede, which involved feeding the young male grapes. This would probably devolve into foreplay and spanking in short order, if Jupiter didn’t put Zeus on a leash, first.
don’t kinkshame
What changed? What is different?
sophia fucking caetia, that’s what
Still, it made Adam uncomfortable. Awe was something reserved for...gods. Not men. And for good reason.
adam ffs
“There’s a difference between natural camouflage and being a trained infiltrator,” Adam muttered to Sigrun.
Ima turned, one of her lupine ears cocked slightly. “Of course, you are correct, commander,” she told him, cheerfully. “But our dryads are trained.”
“heard u was talkin shit” 
One was a vivid red, and the other an electric blue shade that dazzled the eyes. [...] Maccis was perched atop a lindworm as black and glossy as Nith,
these are the yugioh dragons
“Sig, is there an entity living across the street from us?”
I’d watch that sitcom
The god who cursed her—cursed us!—is courting Fritti across the street, going about life on a path for what, domestic bliss? Loki? A trickster? ...probably not, though making everyone believe him to be respectable might be his best trick in history.
loki’s a better person than you
He’s also prophesied to be the death of Odin, the sun, the moon . . . I wouldn’t want to fight him.
I’ll punch the sun, I don’t give a fuck
Fritti is touched by you—” 
Frequently, yes. Loki’s grin was wicked.
loki no
It bespoke a level of equality in the relationship—whatever the relationship actually was—that staggered him.
pay attention to one thing, ever
Prometheus stared at him, and then sighed, turning towards Sigrun. You did not tell him.
oh look, consequences
“Could you all give us a few minutes?” Sigrun asked, her voice rough. “We can work out a plan of action...after I’ve had a chance to talk to Adam.”
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There had never been a time in which they couldn’t talk to each other.
literally half to two-thirds of these books has been sigrun not telling you things so you wouldn’t throw a tantrum
“You’re...an entity.”
this took at least ten pages
I’m losing her. No. I think I already lost her.
bingo
“You never talked to me about a decision that affected both of us.”
It wasn't a decision??? Okay maybe it could have been if Sig admitted what was happening sooner, but also this is the bitchiest, lamest reaction to FINDING OUT YOUR WIFE IS A GODDESS
“So you think your life—our lives—were a lie.”
oh my god this is not about you
“Honesty. Trust. Loyalty. Fairness. I don’t seem to be getting any of these from you anymore.”
please fuck entirely off
“I hated keeping it from you. But I knew you would have precisely this reaction.” She flicked her fingers at him. “I knew you’d be angry at me. I knew you couldn’t handle the information, and I knew you’d hate me for it.”
“I was trying to avoid dealing with your whiny temper tantrum.”
And now he’s a demigod himself, on more or less even footing with Saraid, and Lassair’s off trying to find herself . . . and you’re uncomfortable with him now. He’s your best friend, and you won’t interact with him on anything but the human level.
Adam has been racist against magic and spirits from the very start, there was literally no other way any of this could have ended without some very intense character development that he has been entirely devoid of for three books.
“You wouldn’t take a house in Burgundoi with me. You wouldn’t take a house up in Caledonia, near Trennus. You won’t leave this house, the past, and while Tren’s lived in the north for a year, you won’t visit him there. He had to beg you to go into the Veil with him, and you’ve never gone back.” Sigrun poked his shoulder, lightly, with a finger.
He expects everyone to work on his level and refuses to lift his head and realize that the rest of them have moved on.
She and Tren have been keeping secrets. I was all right with the idea of them getting together after I died, but...they wouldn’t be sleeping together now, would they?
I wouldn’t blame her; it’d be better than dealing with your whining for the next ten years
The rush of relief drowned under another wave of agitation and anger. “So you have, effectively, another home, entirely separate from this one.”
I am going to scream
“If you wanted to help, why didn’t you make me young again? So I could fight at your side?” Instead of feeling increasingly useless...
“Oh no, you can’t have it both ways, Adam ben Maor. If I’m wrong to give you health unasked, then how could I be right to give you your youth back, unasked?” The riposte was thought-fast.
YEAH
I am still justice. But I am also vengeance, magic, the storm, night, death, and darkness. I cannot be stayed. I cannot be denied. I am the antithesis of everything you believe in.
“I am infinitely cooler than you will ever be.”
And so I knew that you would choose your silent, absent god over me.”
Different faiths in relationships is a weird and tricky subject but also choosing the faint possibility of an afterlife over guaranteed decades with the person you claim to love unconditionally is...the wrong choice
“I have changed, Adam. I grew up. I have put my adolescent stubbornness behind me.
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“So . . . who does share the goddess? Nith?”
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
The self-doubt that her step-mother had instilled into her kept her, humble, in a way.
ah yes, the benefits of [checks notes] rampant, long-term child abuse
“Why would you ever think that I would reject you in that way?”
[gestures at the last 30 pages]
“I won’t be who I have been anymore.” 
Adam pulled her to him, tightly. “No one ever is, Sig.
I'd like to point out that this WHOLE ARGUMENT has been him saying that they were still the people they were when they got married and that's why Sig being a goddess was terrible
And yet, in spite of that, he understood, intuitively, that his father’s relationships with his mother and Lassair had been fundamentally different than what he saw around him in the taverna. The difference was commitment.
bless this line, honestly
And she always knows who he is, no matter what illusion he’s masquerading behind. She even knew he was the damned bouquet Fritti brought last time. “Grandfather’s hiding!” she said, and pointed right at the roses...
this is rig and inghean’s kid and also that’s fucking adorable
Reginleif was lost in action. She couldn't make amends. But Lorelei could try to make things better than they were.
There's several pages of Reginleif justifying to herself that it's not really HER trying to bang her former student, it's LORELEI, and I didn't have a problem with the concept until she started trying so hard to justify it
Lassair frowned. I cannot read your words, Kanmi Emberstone. 
Kanmi’s grin was wicked, and the pen scratched across the page. Not my fault you can’t be bothered to learn.
ghost kanmi! I appreciate him.
Truthsayer says that you sought my assistance in a matter of passion? Lassair’s voice was now intrigued, and she leaned across the table, studying Reginleif. 
The silent laughter of Kanmi Eshmunazar was surprisingly loud.
I missed him.
Lassair didn’t answer for a long moment. The fountain pen lifted, and wrote, Asha at a loss for words... note the date and time...
Regin just asked Lassair to fuck Brandr. In the most clinical way possible.
“No, you’re more like your mother and Grandmother Min and Grandfather Kanmi,”
literally could have just said “your mother’s family”
“Umbles?” Zaya asked. “Intestines and internal organs,” Maccis said, his voice distant. “I prefer them warm, myself.”
[...] “Besides,” Solinus put in easily, seeing the discomfort in his younger brother’s face, “we were raised to eat everything but the squeak. We’re Picts.”
food waste is a serious problem. I’m just saying.
“Has she popped into your house when you were...” Rig paused, and very obviously edited what he’d been about to say, "...in the middle of something?” From Inghean’s flush, Solinus had no doubts about what Rig and Inghean had been in the middle of. 
“No, but she used to give me helpful hints and suggestions during.” Solinus looked up at the ceiling. “There are definitely times when ‘Keep your back straight! Not only is it good posture, but you’ll get a better upwards angle!’ aren’t what I want to hear.”
she’s getting better!
Gods know, I walked in on your mother last year as she was trying to seduce mine.”
...ish
Most younger people seemed to prefer the newfangled pockets that tailors had been sewing directly into clothing for the last twenty years or so.
ok boomer (also does the edda-earth universe still have Girl Pockets)
I find it fascinating when I can’t entirely hear someone’s thoughts, the spirit admitted, raising her eyebrows.
this is how twilight started
Reginleif had trained him, some eighty years ago, to look for the cues that an illusionist couldn’t control. Air movement. Something moved past me, or there’s an open window.
which is why is was very dumb that she tried to escape out the window while he dealt with her double
So what can I give you besides the lie? I could just resort to the truth. All the poets say it sets people free, in spite of all evidence to the contrary...
there’s truths behind truths and there’s truths behind lies
Instead of hair between her legs, there was soft black down, as delicate and fine as he might have found on a fresh-hatched chick.
this is just wingfic now
no other bumps or holes to slow his tongue as he slid from one place to the other. “Y-you don’t urinate anymore?”
Why on God's green earth was this the correct time to include this particular bit of world building? Why did it need to be included at all?
“Condom,” he told her, opening his eyes, and trying to reach for his trews. He had a wax paper packet of them in his poke. “D-don’t know how t-to s-sit on eggs.”
brandr
Loki and Prometheus had been [Adam’s] discomfiting houseguests for weeks now
I’d watch that sitcom too
Adam cleared his throat. “Apparently the Hellene gods aren’t the only ones cuckolding human men. Solveig’s husband couldn’t possibly have been pleased with the situation.” So much for Tyr’s honor.
adam
Loki sighed.
This is a long part about humans just flat not understanding that gods don't have to fuck to make babies, so almost all their sexual escapades are pure fiction
All of which is a long way of saying that your morals and conventions do not apply to us, because we are not you.
I just realized the implications this carries for later and I am pleased
Caliburn shimmered in his hands, and became a fully automatic assault rifle, still with the usual sunblaze symbol on the stock.
that’s actually pretty cool
Prometheus shrugged. Do you remember why Zeus ordered me killed?
You continued to prophesy that he would be slain by one of his own descendants. By one of his own sons. Mercury’s head whipped from one to the other of them, his eyes wide. 
What strikes me now, three thousand years later, is this: that line of probability still exists. Prometheus smiled. And you are still a son of Zeus.
I love Prometheus. You dramatic motherfucker.
Maia, our bright and shining star, was so shamed at being forced, that she put all of herself into the offspring. 
Adam struggled to do the mental math. “Hermes is Maia?” he finally said, stunned.
things getting kind of steven universe in here (minus the rape, obvs)
I do not want any of Zeus’ power. I have no desire to begin hurling thunderbolts around, or making windy, pompous speeches from atop mountains.
loki is an underrated character in this series
On Iulius 4, 1993 AC, representatives among the Gothic refugees, and the elected officials of Germania, Gaul, Novo Gaul, and Nova Germania all voted and agreed to leave the Roman Empire.
is this reverse brexit
Zhi deposited Erida beside them all, and coalesced into his smoke-man form
I can only picture Father from Kids Next Door
It takes a bastard like me or him to see it . . . but there are plenty of other bastards like us out there.
They are, I think, less charming than we are, Emberstone. Zhi showed teeth made of flame.
just one big polycule
It’s killing me, but I’m going to let the whole king thing pass me by, except to note that you’re a fucking royal, Worldwalker. This guarantees you another lifetime of me trying to knock the nobility out of you.
kanmi ate a whole bunch of mad godling specifically so he could shittalk trennus again
And Stormborn? I think she believes that having been born at all was her first mistake.
...unfortunately accurate
“It’s rumored that Mercury took action, killing Zeus, thus weakening Jupiter. He has taken refuge with the gods of Valhalla.” Every mouth in the room fell open.
“Do I want to know how you know that?” Marcus Livorus asked, the first to recover.
you really don’t
It is impossible to rebel against an illegitimate government. I am, simply, ensuring the continuance of the legitimate one.”
Marcus Livorus chuckled faintly. “I’ll make a note for the historical record.”
you are not obligated to follow immoral laws
“Your people rebelled. They’re leaving the Empire. Any Goth or Gaul who leaves their post is to be considered a deserter, and to be executed.”
I knew it was coming, but damn it all. My father, Aunt Sig, and even Saraid didn’t warn me. Gods.
yeah tbf they could have dropped him a line
He wasn’t deserting. He was, however, going to be very much absent without leave for a while.
you split them hairs
The papers are in order. Let the centurion get on with his leave.
these are not the droids you are looking for
and my second told me to get the f—” Solinus paused, glanced at Hanni, Shiori, and Astegal, and amended his words
the fuck word will not murder children. god knows mine’s still kicking; if anything it invigorates her
We are entirely clear of the atmosphere, and you have not breathed for the past five minutes. Nor have you needed to do so.
I’m batman and I can breathe in space
It’s the armor, she thought, dimly. It’s the armor that’s protecting me from the vacuum...
really ready for this habit to pass
If the man will not accept as an inducement the chance to share eternity with the woman he loves, then I really cannot say what would change his mind.
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He is a proud man, Nith. And there is nothing wrong with that kind of pride.
Pride that hurts those around you is the wrong kind of pride.
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Niðhoggr. Niðhnitan. Niðofslean. Niðfordon. Anda’hnitan, Anda’ofslean, Anda’fordon. Nith . . . . An endless chain of meaning whispered around her words. Malice-Striker, Bane of the Accursed, Destroyer of the Malicious, Vanquisher of the Vile, Evil’s Bane, Evil’s End, Evil’s Destroyer, Evil’s Vanquisher . . . .
His eyes opened. There are no words. His tail gently wrapped around her. Thank you.
Sig’s perception of Nith changing his Name. Well, the meaning of his Name.
"Sigrun Caetia." He bit the name off. “There is a standing order for all military and gardia personnel to detain you and return you to the Empire for questioning.”
“Really? In regards to what?”
“Fomenting rebellion, chiefly. With attendant charges of treason and murder.”
[...] “I take offense to being called a traitor, when it is Rome’s Emperor and Rome’s gods who have betrayed me.”
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I shall have to find more people who irritate you. I will strew them in your path like flowers for you to tread upon.
I just love Nith so much. “You actually act like a goddess when you’re pissed, therefore I will make you pissed off all the time.”
I would have thought that love was what allowed humanity to become more than beasts. That it was a prerequisite for . . . ascension.
There are many roads to ascension. Yours was sorrow. Worldwalker and Emberstone? Knowledge. Truthsayer? Compassion.
And yours was...?
Pain. He set his wings. Fly, Sigrun Stormborn. Chase the night.
I want the whole book to be these two. Fuck the war shit, give me three books of Nith nudging Sig into accepting herself.
Some of the liquid rock had seared holes completely through the fine membranes that served to keep him aloft. Even in his lindworm-sized self, some of the holes were large enough that she could have put her fist through them, and they still oozed ichor, black-silver blood.
Nith chomped on Tezcatlipoca for ambushing them and got lava-blood all over him and Sig :(
You have a bubble of air that will last about fifteen minutes. The reflective aura around you is repelling the radiation, as well as most of the heat.
This is Young Wizards
I have thought, in times past, that if I could trade places with you, I would. The dragon’s thoughts were measured and precise. That if I could give you this immortal body, armored and perfect, I would. And that in that way, you could be with Sigrun forever, and she with you.
And where would you be, in this scenario? In my body, preparing to die?
Most likely, yes.
I would not accept that! What, you don’t feel worthy of living?
I did not, then. My existence was previously without hope. But I would not now offer it. Nith’s words remained precise. There is, however, another possibility. If you will not accept being bound by Sigrun, I could bind you, instead. I have never done so before. You would be subject to me. But you would partake of my essence. You would be stronger. I suspect that you would share my armor, and my resilience. And, very likely, my lifespan.
If I would not accept Sigrun’s offer, what makes you think that I would accept yours? Adam’s thought was curt. But again...it was tempting.
I did not think that you would. But I had to make the attempt. You see, if you happened to die, while bound to me, instead of to her, you would not be subsumed by her personality. You would become a part of me, instead.
And that is meant to comfort me?
Nith is TRYING to give you not only more time with Sigrun - sharing his extended lifespan - but also offer, in his own way, the possibility of eternity with Sigrun. So yes, Adam, he’s trying to comfort you, you absolute prick.
And on her pillow, on her neatly-made side of the bed, he found the moon-rock he’d picked up from the lunar sands, and a fresh-plucked golden apple from the tree in the yard. Adam picked up the rock, and held it, tightly, in one hand, feeling it cut into his skin. And stared at the apple. Two silent messages.
Eat the fucking apple, Adam.
His work with the fenris packs was a part of his life that Zaya didn’t share. She felt a little excluded, but in fairness, most people didn’t share their work lives with their spouses.
I can kind of understand this for people like Maccis who see a lot of violence or death - not everyone’s equipped for or will understand those stories - but not most people. It’d be a huge red flag for me if my partner never told me any work stories at all.
“Don’t get me wrong. If you want to go out for dinner when I’m not here, that’s your choice. But...”
“Not with people of the opposite sex,” Zaya replied. “That goes without saying, Maccis.”
People 👏 of 👏 differing 👏 genders 👏 can 👏 be 👏 friends 👏
Having 👏 dinner 👏 is 👏 not 👏 an 👏 inherently 👏 romantic 👏 activity 👏
Also 👏 lesbians 👏 exist 👏
“I know that and you know that, but there’s a whole world of people out there who seem to be too stupid to realize that going out with just one other specific person sends messages. If you want to send the message of ‘just friends,’ stay in a group.”
GUESS I’M STUPID
and maybe a fish flopping around indignantly in the pelvic area
this is about Fritti having nightmares about possessed skeletons but also. I’m.
Unfortunately, the next story was detailed coverage of the on-going race for several city council positions in Jerusalem. Fritti sighed as she saw the faces there. Mikayel ben Maor was sixty-six years old, retired now from his day job, and running for one of these offices.
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Because of his candidacy, the news station had invited him and his brother, Adam ben Maor, to speak.
not sure if bad idea or best idea
“Charity is at the heart of almost every Judean’s life,” he retorted. “But tzedakah should be more than giving ten percent of our income to charity. It should be reflected in our words and our deeds, by showing kindness to those who are in need. If we cast out those who are in need of shelter, how will we deserve this salvation of yours?”
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It was the look of someone who had just decided that someone else should die. And yet, he held back from it.
“I stopped a murder today!” “How did you do that?” “Self-control.”
Nith’s head swiveled as Sigrun hissed one word: “Bastard,” and lightning slammed down on the unfortunate centurion’s head, a triple strike that left nothing but smoking boots and melted pieces of metal that had once been sidearms.
and that’s what happens when you try to shoot a rocket at nith
He is proud of who and what he is, what he has accomplished. [...] Of what his people have accomplished, without magic. He forbore to repeat his previous words on the nature of pride to her. And yet . . . he never turned from magic, once he came to understand it.
Once he had a use for it. He’ll use enchanted bullets and Tren’s spirit contracts, but it’s still weird, and alien, and he’d never allow it in his home - just the basic protective spirits that Tren insisted on, and even THEN it was a dirty secret. He’ll make use of magic. He just won’t ever accept it.
It seems simple to me. He has rejected her, as a goddess. He will only accept her on his terms—those of their mortal contract. In honor, he should release her from their bond. He should tell her that while he loves her, he chooses mortality, and that if he ever changes his mind, he will contact her.
Nith understands. Nith gets me.
[...] he called himself Nikolaos, and his flanks held the long white weals of old scars.
This guy!
[...] and glared at young Spiro.
This guy too!
The first of my maddened fellows died as she touched him, every bone in his body broken.
Less "touched" and more "landed on his spinal column going a zillion miles an hour", but, y’know
“I have been blessed to be given the semblance of Xipe Totec,” the ruler of Nahautl said. “Anyone who attacks a flayed man in the street is committing sacrilege. They are not to be touched or disturbed in any way.
He goes on to declare all of the violent, psychotic transformed people currently ravaging the city sacred and not to be defended against.
There's a metaphor for current events in here somewhere.
“Sophia, what have they done to your hair?” Sigrun’s voice was stunned. “It’s shaved off just above the skin!”
“I told you—I told you they’d do it...didn’t I already tell you? The night nurse doesn’t like my hair. She doesn’t like washing it or having to help me brush it. She says that it was wasted on me. ‘It’s not like anyone’s going to see you, girl. And it’s not like you even know who you are most days. So snip, snip, snip, off it goes!’”
I will fight literally everyone in his building.
“He’s...thrown Hephaestus, poor shadow that he is, against a cliff wall. Shackled him there, for his refusal.”
Jupiter just ate Vulcan for refusing to hunt down the other pantheons. Which isn't something Sophia's ever seen! Her prophecy is breaking. ...which unfortunately means so is she.
Sometimes, the father is...” She stared into space, her lips moving. “This is not possible. You would never...you...you would never make the choices...you could never make the choices...”
no fate only wyrd
“Death’s shadow. I would expect to see you nowhere other than at my sister’s heel.”
Do you mean that as an insult, or do you mean, Trueseer, that your sister is Death, and I am her shadow?
Nith’s crest rose slightly, and then he exhaled white crystals in a snort as Sophia raised her hands to her shorn head, trying to tug at hair that wasn’t there.
“I can hear you! I can hear you! Why can I hear words fated to be silent until the world’s end?”
Nith said earlier that if Sigrun hadn't accepted her divinity, she wouldn't have heard him speak until Adam died. I'm guessing that was Sophia's original timeline.
Planted his paws on the desk, lightly. Just enough to make the entire L-shaped station shake. “And now that I have your undivided attention,” Sigrun said, politely, in Hebrew, “Which of you is the nurse who shaved my sister’s head?
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All of them denied it, but Nith exhaled a white cloud as Sigrun pointed at one woman, in her fifties and portly. “Lie,” Sigrun said, simply.
That’s still so fucking cool.
The man I loved would have accepted my gift, and worked with me to repair this broken world.
citation needed
Choices change the ones who make them. Time changes all things. And with those changes, we must abide.
can Nith be the main character now
[...] he cautiously lifted down a book, trying not to leave talon marks in the cover. Set it on the coffee table, and tried to find a way in which to turn the pages without tearing them.
you are so fucking precious
It was so much easier to deal with you, when all I saw was an oversized, highly intelligent pet.
“It was easier to deal with you when I didn’t have to acknowledge you as a person.”
You believe that humanity is the pinnacle of creation, and you are proud of your species, your part in it. You believe that you have a soul, separate from your spirit, your consciousness, and that it can be destroyed by wrong actions. Nith’s voice was calm. And so, you refuse the gifts offered to you by Sigrun, by Worldwalker, and by me. If you do not accept them, you and your principles will collide, ending in your certain destruction. The dragon paused. It seems as if you are waiting for someone else to make the decision for you. To take it out of your hands, and force the gift on you. So that you may have immortality, and your principles will be uncompromised.
get his ass
He looked up at the beast, and realized, not for the first time, that there was no possible way in which to fight it, save Caliburn, and even Caliburn, he wouldn’t give good odds. I could find Jormangand and tell him that Nith stole his lunch. That’s about it.
“He told me a truth I didn’t like, so I’m going to start trying to find ways to kill him.”
“You love her, don’t you?” Silence, cold and absolute, as if the dragon once more had been bound not to speak.
WELL?
Crann Péitseog meant peach tree in Gallic;
I am assuming this is Atlanta.
[...]a sleepy, mellow city along the Chattahoochee River in southeastern Novo Gaul.
I was right!
But as they appeared in the air near the city, all Sigrun could smell was ash, and as she looked down, she realized that she couldn’t pick out a single building that was still standing.
is the mad godling named Sherman
His voice was disgusted, angry, and...utterly Kanmi Eshmunazar.
I missed him.
There was substantially less art to code-breaking anymore, in his opinion.
kids these days
“In fact, the things I’ve seen today would have made even Baal’s testicles curl up inside his body cavity, and I know that, since I seem to be in possession of both of them.”
kanmi
“You’re paranoid, ben Maor. I never thought I’d live to see the day.” He paused, and took a seat, clearly moving the chair back to do so. “Of course, I mostly didn’t.”
kanmi
“I’m not sure I make a good god. I see a problem, I go fix it, regardless of how dirty my hands get, and I tend to sleep well afterwards. Aside from which, if anyone started to worship me, I’d spend so much time trying to tell the dimwits to stop, and go get some work done, that I’d never get anything done myself.”
I missed him
“Sigrun tells me that Regin turned herself into a swan, and made herself a pond. So long as she never got out of the pond, she was safe, apparently.” Adam did his best not to roll his eyes.
Why on God's green earth would that make you roll your eyes, Adam. Please learn literally one thing about the Veil that basically all of your friends more or less live in now.
“How in god’s name did you keep your mind focused for spell-casting? Mine wanders off without me sometimes, and I have to pull it back to me on a leash of spider’s thread, and hope it found good ideas while it was away.”
that’s adhd babey
People who don’t do more than sit around watching the far-viewer and swilling ale are usually the ones who lose their minds, I’ve noticed.
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Without anything besides a feeling about the issue, she’s going to try, convict, and execute them?” He felt cold. This is not my Sigrun. My Sigrun understood the importance of the laws. In fact...she embodied them. “Tyr isn’t going to stop her?”
Justice and The Law don’t always overlap.
“God damn it, Esh. The whole world is breaking down. This is not a time for the rule of law to be overturned. This is the time when it needs, more than ever, to be enforced. Because if the systems that gave us civilization break down, there isn’t going to be civilization, but anarchy. And it’s not going to be pretty.”
[...] “Point your temper a different direction, ben Maor. What do you want us to do? Go at human speed, in human time? Process the microscopic traces of evidence sprayed across what used to be thirty miles of city? Take pictures of the carbon shadows on the walls that are all that’s left of some of the people in the western section? Interview their fucking ghosts?”
I missed Kanmi.
Let it go, ben Maor.”
“Let what go?”
“Your irritation that you aren’t out there with us. Keeping us on the straight and narrow.”
The true source of his crankiness: he can’t be sanctimonious at them anymore.
Sorcerers enforce the rules among ourselves. The god-born do the same. You’re objecting now because we’re enforcing the laws of the normal humans as well as those that pertain to us? Except we’ve always done that, too.” His eyebrows rose. “Think for a moment before you answer. Because I can crucify you six different ways with almost anything you say.”
kanmi’s never allowed to leave again. he is necessary here.
“Yes, but how does that even work? How can things have gone along perfectly in line with her predictions for so long, and now, all of a sudden, it’s diverging?” Adam threw his hands wide. “I’d love to say it’s free will and the power of the human spirit, but we’ve had those all along.”
it’s boots
I need to see Erida before I make it back home to my wife.”
YEAH YOU DO
Just after dawn on that grey and chill day, Minerva, the Roman goddess of warfare and craftsmanship, appeared in the sky overhead, and slammed her spear against her shield—the Aegis. The noise reverberated like thunder, and the humans in and around the muddy, frigid floodwater, already shaking with the cold, looked up at the sound. [...] Minerva had taken this shield from Athena, and it held the visage of Medusa trapped within it, and all that long-dead god-born’s bound power, with it. None of the humans could look away. At least half froze in place, and turned, quite literally, to stone, populating the entire bank of the flooding Tamesis river with statues, caught in the instant of looking up to heaven.
bad fucking form
samoom flatbread
Fun fact, if you just Google "samoom" (or highlight it in Kindle), it autocorrects to "simoom", which means TO POISON and is a breed of sandstorm. If you don't want to read the word "poison" and wonder why erida is trying to Make Kanmi Dead Again, please search the whole phrase.
“While we’ve got you here, Prometheus, and on the subject of truth...I have a bone to pick with you.” Kanmi grinned as the titan’s head jerked up.
kanmi don’t antagonize prometheus
Apollo? Hecate laughed, a sound like crystal and tears. I would as soon geld him as share ten minutes’ discourse with him.
I like her.
Kanmi latched onto the arm of the couch with one hand, his knuckles white. “You mean to tell me that there’s some...new player, from outside our universe, who’s meddling?”
given that I know how this book ends, I am 85% sure I know who it is, and 90% sure it's going to make my head hurt
Erida shot back, her topaz eyes gleaming. Kanmi still loved watching his old friend’s mind work.
people of different genders can absolutely be friends, and they can absolutely admire each others’ talent and intellect platonically, but also kanmi and erida banged.
Nith . . . you’re showing off again.
When I fly high above, you tell me I am showing off, because the entire city can see me. If I fly low, you inform me that I am showing off, because a smaller number of people can see me very clearly. His tone was mildly amused.
let nith show off, he’s earned it
She squinted down at it, and blinked. “This is me?” she hazarded a guess. The figure was mostly done in black ink, after all, with white hair instead of copper-tinged . . . and huge black wings. “I don’t have wings, little one.” “Yes, you do!” He pointed at her cloak,
look, little kid depictions of anything are the best and most indecipherable things on the planet
Sigrun had no problem with seeing a god-touched weapon like Caliburn in Adam’s hands. Adam had proven himself. He had the kind of meticulous discipline that Kanmi, Minori, Sigrun, and Trennus all tried to inculcate in the students that they trained. He had ethics. He had honor. And he had very good judgment.
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You really need to try to take a human form at some point.
Nith studied her. On those occasions on which you have been injured, how do you imagine that I carried you to your room in the keep? In my teeth, perhaps?
like a giant puppy
Sigrun had been surprised the first time she’d used it, that it didn’t result in all the electricity in someone’s body dissipating, leaving them inert. Instead, all the heat in their bodies drained away, flash-freezing them. Almost every cell burst, but not directly, by being lysed, as Hel had done, but through the expansion of water inside every cell.
Power Word: Icicle
“Sig. Listen to me. You can’t just execute everyone who happens to be associated with the group.
twelve million people died, Adam
“Sometimes,” Sigrun said, tightly, “It seems that the law is a luxury, a privilege, that we enjoy in civilized times. It is a web of spider silk, used to restrain a bull. Most of the time, the bull thinks that the web holds him. And right now? He’s gone mad, and it’s going to take a goad and a prod to put him back in his stall. Far better that I do this, than let my people tear apart every sorcerer and ley-mage that they see, eh? Anyone that they suspect of being in league with Potentia? Their gods were barely keeping the Gauls contained after Crann Péitseog. What do you think will happen if someone doesn’t take action? Mortals against sorcerers. Sorcerers aligning with Potentia out of self-defense. So sorcerers against mortals and against god-born. We’ll be so busy fighting ourselves, that we won’t have time to worry about Rome or the godlings.” Sigrun stared at her husband. “So no. I won’t execute the ones who are truly innocent. But I will execute every member of Potentia that I can get my hands on, who’s guilty of something. Until Odin tells me that my efforts are better directed elsewhere.”
long quote, but she’s right and she should say it.
I will at least visit [Sophia], Stormborn. She deserves to have someone to hear her words, who will not be unduly distressed by them.
lassair’s a good egg when she tries to be
I brought fire to my people in much the same way, but I didn’t suffer three thousand years of punishment for it. I actually know when to shut my mouth.
Then why do you never seem to do so?
Hecate: 1 Coyote: 0
Prometheus’ thin smile didn’t waver, but the lines of probability flickered for a moment.
is this dunamancy? this is dunamancy.
I may be diminished now, but I have never died. Nor will I.
how did I forget what a badass hecate actually is?
But their Nahautl spouses had been detained at the borders, tearing families apart...but most thought that the detention camps, and the potential to get across the border to safety, were a better option than staying anywhere near the major cities.
for reference this book was published in 2015
There comes a point in time, at which the news has been so universally bad, and for so long, that people begin to ignore it, out of self-preservation.
2020 mood
And to anyone who might say, “How can you not have heard of her? Have you been dead for the past seven years?” my answer is yes. Yes, I have.
kanmi wrote this whole letter for that punchline...and they didn’t even publish it
Maccis was six-foot-four, and had broadened out to match in the past few years.
false, he’s a wiry little spitfuck, prove me wrong trick question you can’t
He is a lost possibility. An echo of something that has now never occurred.
dunamancy
Skadi’s brittle laugh slashed at the dark air, and Nith’s low growl shook the leaves from the silver-barked trees. Do you not show your teeth to me, hound of Hel. You may have found your tongue, but you will know your place.
I will fight you in the street
You might have the right of it, she replied, grudgingly. It matters not where the power comes from, so long as the ends are met.
Redemption Equals Death
And as one, Tyr and Thor gave him their hands, as, in the northern reaches of the world, the Fimbulwinter began.
w e l p
The current stirred, and Neptune looked up. Nothing was how it should be, and hadn’t been, since he’d killed that frozen bitch, Skadi.
well well well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions
I have the option of using my hammer, or calling to our quarry by his Name and saying ‘here, fishy-fishy, who’s a pretty fishy.’ Which would lack some dignity.
thor that’s rude
The ones from the other place were an anomaly. They changed everything around them. Mutability would not be tolerated. Everything must remain as it would be, as it always would have been. The bringers-of-chaos would not change the fate of this world.
it’s Homeostasis from Digimon
It didn’t matter at all if the woman possessed by the godslayer had loved a god-born man. She’d still killed him. That was how the story always ended. That was what made them godslayers. Zaya swallowed, and pulled her cloak on, bundling up to go home. If I were a godslayer, I wouldn’t kill Maccis.
rip to Adamas but I’m different
He could hear the giggles and whispers of forest-spirits who had taken refuge here, and harvest and hunt-spirits, too. Caught them peeping at him from the branches of trees. A few went so far as to try to play tricks on him—tossing an apple at him and shrieking, “For the fairest!” before diving away, giggling madly.
the thought of this is very cute to me and I couldn’t entirely say why
Humans see us as they see us. Shape us. And we come to see ourselves in certain ways, as well. I do see myself as male. Mostly.
nb mercury canon
The Legion has been largely professional for hundreds of years. Oh, there are still conscripts who are criminals, assigned to us as hardship duty. We use them to clear minefields and dig ditches and other such duties.
just casually blow up prisoners, nbd
But often, Sigrun found that she couldn’t sleep in that silent, empty room, and wound up dragging a blanket with her down to the courtyard, where she’d put her head on the dragon’s massive flank, and rest. At least the ground is soft here, she thought hazily.
that sounds comfy as fuck honestly
“We’re supposed to be allies,” Adam said, clearly trying to word this carefully. “There has to be give and take in an alliance. We’re not seeing much of anything from the Gauls and the Goths right now, and we’ve basically pulled down our trousers and shown Julianus our asses here.”
The Gauls and the Goths have been decimated by the mad godlings, they don’t have anything to give, that’s why they’re refugees, and you’re a tool.
(fun fact, I usually make these notes in the phone app at 3 in the morning so my original note for this is just “I hate you”)
“I can’t do that—”
“If you’re about to tell me that it’s rude and it will offend my people and my god, I don’t care.” His expression darkened.
She bit back her reflexive first reply, which was, Ah, so you don’t care if I’m a goddess, so long as I do what you want, and don’t ask anything in return? It wasn’t a fair response.
no you’re right and you should say it
Mercury glared at her. Give me one good reason why I should not take this matter directly to Odin. As I should, as a guest in his domain, protected by his power.
because snitches get stitches
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flamehairedwritings · 4 years ago
Text
The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Twenty Nine
Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character
Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex, mentions of miscarriage, hanging.
Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.
Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!
Read on AO3
The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist
Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.
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Lay Down Your Weary Head
It may have been a shorter ride to Valentine, but it felt like aeons to Arthur.
It was terrifying, having her sat in front of him, being able to hear each pained breath she took, feel how slack her body was. Charles had found some herbs in his saddlebag that helped with the pain, but there was only so much for him and Ada to share.
“You’re all righ’, darlin’, you’re okay...” he’d murmur in her ear, and she’d just make a faint sound in response.
He didn’t want them to stop to rest, but the horses could only gallop for so long. There were too many twists and turns, too, and the last thing he wanted right now was to collide with another traveller, or have the horses stumble and break their legs. Noka was following them as well, trying to get as close as she could to her mistress which had her bumping into Charles’s horse or Titan every few minutes. He kept them to either a canter or a trot, only slowing to a walk when they crossed a rushing section of the Dakota River.
It was early afternoon when Valentine came into view, the air still bitterly cold. Mud muffled the sounds of their hooves as they cantered past a couple of homes; chickens in coops and pigs and goats in pens sounding their surprise. Titan snorted as Arthur slowed him to a brisk trot when they came to the stables and he turned him onto the main street, sweat shining on the horse’s coat. A wagon was rumbling down towards them and people were milling about, crossing from one side to the other or just ambling down it. If he’d had time to take it all in, he’d have found not much had changed from his last visit.
“’scuse me, move, please!” Arthur called tightly, ignoring the tuts and grumbles that came from people stepping aside.
They quickly silenced themselves at the sight of Ada, however. Arthur had one arm tight around her, keeping her against him, but her head had fallen forward at some point, her chin against her chest, and no one could have mistaken what state she was in. The grumblings now turned to murmurings, both concerned and curious. Arthur shut them out.
Pulling Titan to a halt outside the doctor’s office, he released the reins before, while using his forearm to keep her upright, he moved his leg behind him and dropped down from the saddle. Ada bent forward over his arm, unable to hold herself up, and all he could hear was his own breathing. Pulling her down into his arms, he adjusted his grip on her, staring down at her pale face and closed eyes.
“Ada? Ada, darlin’?” he prompted her urgently, striding towards the steps to the office.
She was breathing but it was so shallow, and it was a couple of moments before her eyes half opened, glassy. 
She seemed a thousand miles away; fading.
Swallowing hard, Arthur lifted his head as he reached the top step, his boots loud on the wooden platform, and he used a hand to awkwardly shove the door open, a bell tinkling above it signalling his entry.
“Can I get some help here?” he demanded, meeting the gaze of a bald man to his left who was rising out of his chair behind a counter, startled.
The man swiftly got over his surprise. “Yes, of course, bring her through to the back.”
As Arthur strode across the room full of neatly displayed remedies, herbs and linens, the doctor pushed open a door and quickly began issuing orders to someone as he stepped through.
“Jocelyn, warm water, please, and cloths. And bring me my instruments.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Arthur entered the small room to find a young woman with coiled black hair hurriedly pulling bowls out of a cupboard and placing them on a counter. The doctor reappeared through a metal door to the right of her, finishing tying an apron around himself before he rolled his shirt sleeves up.
“The table, please, sir.” He gestured to a rectangular wooden table in the centre of the room, a clean, white linen cloth covering it, and Arthur moved to the closest side.
He lay her down as carefully as he could, his hand sliding up to the back of her head so it wouldn’t knock against the wood. Removing it gently, he cupped her cheek and gazed at her, his heart thundering in his chest. He could hear the weak breaths she was dragging in, her eyes on the ceiling. Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat as he barely listened to the doctor talking to his assistant.
“Oh, Jocelyn, if you could attend to this gentleman, too. I’m afraid there’s not much room—”
“It’s okay, I’ll be fine. Look after her first.”
Charles’s voice registered to him, he must have been standing in the doorway behind him, but Arthur didn’t listen to them anymore as he gently stroked Ada’s cheek. It was exactly like last time; her stare, her pallor, her weakness—
“Sir? Sir?”
He lifted his head and found the doctor stood on the other side of the table, his fingers swiftly pulling the piece of John’s shirt they used to try and stem the flow away before he began unbuttoning her coat.
“What happened?”
“Uh, she got shot, I, it was an accident, she got caught up in a crossfire.”
“Has the bullet passed through?” The doctor tore the coat open, and Arthur stared at the hole in her side, blood staining the shirt around it. “Sir?”
He stuttered slightly as he heard Ada’s weak groan, the man pressing his fingers around the wound. “Uh, I-I don’t know, I didn’t check—”
“Give me a hand.”
He was about to ask with what when the doctor was suddenly gripping her left thigh and bicep and rolling her to her right, making Arthur quickly cradle the side of her head with one hand and place the other on her waist. She released a small, resistant sound at the movement and his thumb stroked at her cheek, a reassuring murmur on the tip of his tongue when the doctor released her, letting her settle on her back again.
“It hasn’t gone through, I’m gonna have to pull it out.”
Arthur stared at him, his hands frozen on his wife. She’d had a bullet in her this whole time. His eyes followed the man as he grabbed a bag from a counter and returned to the table, setting it down and pulling it open. His stomach turning at the tools that shone within, Arthur’s gaze dropped to her, and met her own. Her eyes were barely open but she was staring up at him, and a tear slipped down her cheek.
He sniffed and stroked her skin again, managing to lift a corner of his mouth. “Hey, you’re gonna be okay, all righ’, you—”
“Sir, please stand out of the way.” The doctor knocked his hand away from her waist, and shoved her shirt up, starting to cut away at the thin cotton corset that lay between him and her skin.
Clearing his throat, Arthur returned his gaze to her, but her eyes were closed now and he quickly looked to her chest. He released a breath when he saw the slow rise and fall of it. Stroking her forehead, he licked his dry lips.
“Gotta keep those beautiful eyes open, sweetheart, remember, you need to—”
A sympathetic but firm hand was placed on his arm and he blinked, lifting his head. The doctor had come around the table and was trying to push him towards the door, inclining his head at it.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to have to wait outside.”
Arthur felt fear claw its way up his throat. “What, no, I’m not leavin’ her—”
The doctor was undeterred, and strong. “Sir, please, there’s only so much room, please wait out there.”
Arthur turned his head, hoping to find Charles on his side, but he was sat on the floor in a corner, his head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed as Jocelyn quickly attended to his wound. She must have convinced him. Arthur, however, was shaking his head.
“No, I-I, I gotta be here for her, just in case—”
“Sir, please let me do my job, I can’t do it in a crowded room and you standing over, she needs space.”
The doctor had manoeuvred him to the doorway, and Arthur gripped the doorjamb, practically digging his heels in as he craned his neck to keep his eyes on her.
“Listen, you son of a bitch, I ain’t leavin’ her! I can’t—”
“We’re wasting time, sir!” The doctor’s shout startled him into sudden silence, his gaze snapping up to meet his. Sympathy was still lingering in the man’s eyes but his features were set. “She is bleedin’ to death on that table so are you gonna let me save her?”
Arthur could only, after a moment, nod, his hands slipping from the frame.
The doctor’s voice softened minutely. “Good. Now, please wait outside. We’ll call for you.”
They’ll call for me... Good or bad, they’ll call for me...
Arthur, like he was no longer in control of his body, stepped through the doorway and turned with the movement, gazing at his wife. Her hair was spread across the cloth, and from this angle he couldn’t see her face. The last thing he saw before the doctor shut the door was her arm hanging off the table, limp.
His gaze didn’t move, staring at the wood before him. He could hear his own breathing again, ragged. He could also hear the muffled sounds of the doctor moving about, his shoes scuffing against the wooden slats of the floor. The doctor was saying something, too, but again it was muffled. Probably talking about the state she was in, how bad it was, what they’d be able to do and...
He needed fresh air, he couldn’t breathe properly. Turning on his heel, he strode across the store. The door was still open and he didn’t bother to pull it shut behind him as he stepped out, the cold air slamming him in the face. He didn’t care, though; it forced him to suck in a breath that was deep enough to actually fill his lungs and clear his mind a little. He stared at a building opposite as he took in another, watching a man wipe a cloth over the windows, cleaning them. Titan, Noka and Charles’s horse were before it, too, drinking from a water trough, their tails swishing.
Arthur stepped forward until his boot dropped down onto a step, and then he went down, sitting on the edge of the top step. His knees bent, he rested his elbows on them, his gloved fingers lacing together. They slid against each other a little strangely so he glanced down at them, and found blood drying on the leather. He pulled them off and let them fall into the mud between his boots.
Fingers lacing together again, he watched a wagon rumble by, a great, grey Shire horse pulling it along idly as the driver chatted to his partner by his side. They were transporting food, it looked like, crates stacked together marked with the name of a company a few states over. His eyes followed it until it was out of sight, heading round the corner by the hotel. Somewhere, someone was hammering away at something, metal striking metal. It echoed across the small town so Arthur couldn’t place exactly where it was coming from. Maybe there was a blacksmith nearby, crafting some tools or horseshoes. 
Sat there, still, he could feel the cold creeping up on him, the coat not quite thick enough to keep him warm while stationary. And he could feel the coldness of his wedding band against his skin. He swallowed hard as his gaze dropped to the ground. Closing his eyes, he took in long, steadying breaths, just listening to the sounds of horses and people passing by.
It was a few moments before he realised someone was calling his name. His head whipping up, he found Sadie and John slowing their horses as they approached, and he could tell they were trying not to jump to conclusions at the sight of him.
“... Arthur! Are they okay?” Sliding down from his saddle, John swiftly moved to Sadie and her horse, helping her down.
Arthur gazed at the blonde woman, watching her grip at her side as she grimaced, John keeping her upright.
“Arthur?”
At John’s prompt, Arthur glanced up at him and cleared his throat. “Uh, they’re inside there. Doctor’s lookin’ after ‘em. He’s got an assistant in there so you should go in Sadie.”
She nodded, too exhausted to respond, and John helped her up the stairs and into the store.
Arthur didn’t want to look back.
He gazed at the ground, watching the ripples in the small puddles from the movement around them. He vaguely remembered he’d read in the newspaper a few days ago that it was supposed to rain. 
Well, seems they’d been righ’.
He heard someone behind him, and then John was exhaling a heavy breath as he sat down at his side. Removing his hat, he stretched his legs out as his hands rested on his thighs.
“Jesus Christ...” he sighed quietly, shaking his head a little as he gazed across the street.
Arthur’s chest tightened as his eyes darted to him. “What? You see her? How is she?”
John shook his head quickly, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t see her, a woman just came out and took Sadie in, closed the door before I could get a look in, I’m sorry.”
He nodded once, running a hand down his mouth before he returned his attention to the puddles. He felt John watching him, knowing he was probably trying to find the right thing to say whilst knowing there wasn’t. Finally, Arthur felt his hand on his back a few moments later, patting a couple of times before it was gone. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.
John then cleared his throat. “We got the Blackwater money.”
Arthur looked at him, his brow dipping. “What? It was actually there?”
The younger man opened his mouth to reply, but he didn’t get a chance to respond.
“Hey, fellers.”
Both men looked up to find a man with thick, grey hair, some former black colouring still lingering in some parts, even though he could only have been a few years older than Arthur, gazing down at them with a welcoming smile. The shining badge on his coat announced that he was the Sheriff of Valentine. 
“Hey,” John answered politely as Arthur just nodded.
The Sheriff nodded towards the doctor’s office, one hand on his hip. “Seems like there’s been quite a commotion. What happened?”
"Well, commotion is the word for it,” was all John said, trying to think of what the hell to say without revealing too much.
“That so?” The Sheriff looked between them. “Who wants to come down to my office and tell me all about it?”
“I will.” John was already making to rise, but Arthur lifted a hand, shaking his head.
“Nah, I will. Can’t just sit here waitin’.”
“Well, all right.” The Sheriff’s smile returned as Arthur dropped his hand, and took a step back.
Getting to his feet, Arthur brushed his hands against his coat before looking down at John. “Come get me if...”
He couldn’t finish the sentence, his lips pausing.
John nodded quickly. “I will.”
John watched the Sheriff gesture for Arthur to lead the way, his gaze darting over the man’s red bandanna tied around his neck, grey coat, black hat, and the shining silver caps on his boots. He seemed a fancy feller, though his smile wasn’t disingenuous. He looked to Arthur, seeing the slump in his broad shoulders, the slight bow of his head. 
Christ...
Running his fingers over his mouth, he leaned his elbows on his knees and watched them head down the street towards the jail, praying to whoever was listening that Arthur came out of there.
The Sheriff, who'd introduced himself as Daniel, held the door open for Arthur and let him pass through first. Stepping into the small building, Arthur found it comprised of a few, vacant jail cells, in fact the entire place was empty, and just enough space left for a fireplace, a board covered with posters and a simple desk. The door closed and Daniel rounded the desk, taking a seat behind it as he gestured at a wooden chair before it for Arthur to do the same. He obeyed, removing his hat and holding it between his hands. Daniel removed his, too, tossing it onto his desk and running a hand through his hair as he leaned back.
“Can I get you anythin’ to drink, uh...?”
“Arthur,” he offered, though nothing more. Yes, it had been some years since he’d been in Valentine, not since he’d robbed the bank with Karen, Bill and Lenny in fact, but the reputation and story of the Van der Linde Gang had lingered long after the night on the mountain. One of the last things he wanted right now was to be thrown into a jail cell. “And no, thank you.”
Sheriff Daniel nodded as he raised a hand. “All right. So, what happened, Arthur?”
He hadn’t planned much by way of explanation. In fact, nothing.
“We got attacked, up near Mount Hagen.”
“Hagen?” Daniel’s jaw moved slightly as his brow dipped. Lifting his chin, he called out, “Hey, Dale?”
A short man they’d passed on the porch opened the door, leaning his head in. “Sir?”
“Ain’t Mount Hagen were that Micah Bell feller is?”
“Some folks say, sir.”
“All right...” He paused for a moment, glancing at Arthur as he rubbed at his eyebrow with his thumb before looking back to Dale. “Hey, see where Benny is, you two might be ridin’ out there later.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
As Dale closed the door, Daniel returned his gaze to Arthur, clearing his throat. 
“I saw Sadie Adler go in the doctor’s office. She’s caught a few bounties for me before, and Micah Bell has a mighty reward. Is that what you were doin’ up there?”
“Nah. We’re all just old friends of Sadie’s, catchin’ up and passin’ by there.”
He couldn’t tell if Daniel believed him, and he didn’t care.
“They attack you and your friends, then?”
“Someone did, a group of ‘em. Sadie got stabbed, our friend Charles got shot as did my...” He paused for a moment. ”... my wife.”
Daniel watched him, his lips pressing together slightly with sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. Wallace is a hell of a doctor, though. Came all the way down here from Boston, I made sure he was right for the job myself. She’s in good hands.”
It should have been nice, hearing such reassurance from a stranger, but Arthur just nodded, hoping the interrogation would continue so he didn’t have to think.
The Sheriff seemed to sense his mood, and did what he thought was best.
Leaning forward, he settled his forearms on the desk, fingers lacing together. “Listen, uh, head on down to the saloon, tell Jackie there I sent ya. Get yourself a hot meal and a strong drink. We can talk more later.”
Arthur nodded again, and Daniel mistook his disappointment for weariness. “Thank you, sir.”
He smiled warmly, hoping it would reassure the man. “No problem at all. You’ll be safe here, I guarantee it.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.” Placing his hat on his head, Arthur stood with a slight nod and moved to the door.
Daniel dropped his gaze after a few moments, opening a drawer of his desk and pulling a sheet of paper and a pen out. He’d have to write a letter to Christopher over in Strawberry, see if he’d heard anything about the outlaw who’d given him a tremendous amount of grief a couple of months back, maybe he’d— 
“Hey...”
Daniel looked up, surprised, and found Arthur hesitating, half out of the door, his hand resting on the handle.
“Don’t send y’boys out to Hagen. They ain’t gonna find nothin’, just be a waste of time.”
He didn’t give Daniel a chance to respond, pulling the door closed behind him. The Sheriff watched through the window as the sombre, weary man headed back down the street, his shoulders heavy with the weight of the unimaginable. Scratching at his jaw, he sat back in his chair, turning the words over in his mind.
He should’ve stopped him, questioned him more.
When Sadie Adler was involved, there was always trouble, and with a group their size and the wounds they’d sustained... it all seemed too coincidental. How had they gotten away, even? Yet Arthur’s grief was very much real, though, and they didn’t seem like bad people. Hell, Sadie was one of the best he’d ever met, he couldn’t imagine she’d hang around with unsavoury folk; she could barely tolerate people as it was. Tapping a finger against the armrest of his chair, Daniel’s gaze shifted to one of the wanted posters on the wall opposite him.
‘WANTED: MICAH BELL, FOR MURDER, THEFT, ASSAULT, ARSON, PROPERTY DAMAGE, KIDNAPPING, DISTURBING THE PEACE. REWARD $200 DEAD OR ALIVE’
The paper was worn despite it only having been up for three months, the bounty having gone up then. Many bounty hunters came and went, all of them studying the drawing of the man before boldly declaring, oh, don’t you worry, Sheriff Dan, I’ll get him. They either never returned, dead or embarrassed, or they came trailing in, mournful and ashamed, looking for consolation.
If her friends were even half as good as her, hell, Sadie Adler could well have finally put him down.
The door opened and Dale stepped in, pushing his hat back on his head slightly. “Sir? Found Benny, you want us to head out to Hagen?”
Daniel’s jaw moved as he glanced back at the poster.
“... Yeah. Take Carl, too, if he’s around. Take plenty of ammunition with you. And come to me before y’all go.”
“Yes, boss.”
He had half a mind to go with them, but... No. He wanted to keep an eye on the wounded group, make sure they were okay... Make sure she was okay.
Arthur moved across the boards that lay before the buildings, giving an automatic, barely-there smile whenever he’d accidentally meet someone’s gaze. They’d only been there ten minutes but people were already giving sympathetic nods and smiles; word had spread around the small town.
No doubt how the Sheriff had heard of their arrival, then again they had, as he’d said, caused quite a commotion. He should have been kicking himself for his departing words, but he’d said them to genuinely tell the man not to waste his time, not as a warning. He didn’t know how Daniel would react to it, and he didn’t much care. He guessed his boys wouldn’t fancy hiking all the way up the mountain just to see if he was telling the truth.
John raised his eyebrows as he approached, still sat on the step. “That was fast. Everythin’ okay?”
“Yeah. Offered me a free meal.”
John raised his eyebrows even higher as Arthur returned to his seat beside him, one leg stretched out. “You didn’t take it?”
“Not hungry. Tell me ‘bout that money.”
The younger man knew when not to press. Raising a hand, he shrugged. “It was really there, in a chest. I don’t know when they must have gone back and got it but there was a hell of a lot there. Gold bars, bills, coins, some additions, too, that they must have added like jewels and that. Got it all into saddlebags and then came after you as quickly as we could.” He gave a lopsided smile as he looked at him. “Guess you can build that stable now.”
Arthur was gazing across the street, nodding slightly. “Guess so.”
He’d wanted to be distracted and it hadn’t worked, John could see that, and they both knew nothing would. John chewed at his lower lip, trying to find the right words to say again.
“... She’s gonna be okay.”
Arthur released a long, almost faintly exasperated sigh, the sound catching in his throat slightly.
“And what if she’s not, John. Feel like my...” His teeth dragged over his lower lip as his hand lifted slightly. “Feel like my fuckin’ heart’s torn in two.” He swallowed hard, and John realised he was hesitating about something. “... Y’know when she, uh... When she gave birth to Millie, it was bad.” He was shaking his head, his jaw moving. “Thought I was gonna fuckin’ lose her. When I was bringin’ her down from the mountain that’s all I could fuckin’ think about, and... and now...” He drew in a shaking breath, meeting John’s gaze for the briefest of moments. “... She’s lost a lot of blood, John. That weren’t a short journey.”
“She’s gonna be okay—”
“You didn’t see her. She couldn’t hear me, she wasn’t there. And I can’t go in there to see how she’s doin’ ‘cause the doctor’s gotta do his work but I can’t just sit out here thinkin’ about all the pain she’s in ‘cause of my fuckin’ mistake, my stupid, fuckin’ mistake that shouldn’t have happened, I should have fuckin’ known, and I don’t think I even can see her like that again, in all that pain again but now it’s ‘cause of my doin’, I just don’t think I can, I’m a fuckin’ coward, I know it, I’ll fuckin’ say it, but I can’t, and I don’t, I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I lose her, I can’t fuckin’, I can’t live without her, John, I fuckin’ can’t.”
He wiped harshly at his cheek, a tear having escaped, before he blew out a shaking breath as he covered his eyes with his hand, his head tilted down.
John watched him, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. A few moments later, Arthur felt his hand return to his back.
“You ain’t a coward, Arthur.”
John thought it wasn’t much by way of consolation, but to Arthur it was enough. A small enough, but enough. Nodding minutely, he took in a few slow, deep breaths. John’s hand moved slightly, giving a small rub, and it was another small enough. 
Wiping at his eyes, he sniffed and lifted his head, glancing at John a moment later.
“You should get yourself somethin’ to eat. Take up that free meal for me.”
Lowering his hand, John gave a faint smile as he shook his head, lacing his fingers together, elbows on his knees. “Nah, I’m okay. I ain’t too hungry neither.”
“I am.”
Both their heads turned sharply, finding Charles stepping out onto the porch behind them. He looked weary but in one piece, his wounded shoulder rather rigid.
“Hey, Charles, y—”
“Are you okay—”
He waved off their concerns, nodding as he approached and lowered himself down to sit on the other side of Arthur with a slight groan.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Got stitched up and a dressing over it, I’ll be fine.”
“That’s good.” Arthur’s teeth grazed over his lower lip as he paused, watching Charles settle his forearm on his leg to take the strain off his shoulder. “... Is... Is Ada okay?”
Charles met his gaze and did what Arthur had feared; hesitated. 
“Uh... I didn’t get much of a look but... Yeah, he’s... He’s doing everythin’ he can.”
Arthur stared at him, trying to shove down the urge to yell, ‘What the hell does that mean?!’ 
“How’s Sadie?”
Charles held Arthur’s gaze for moment longer, apologetically, before it shifted to John.
“I don’t know either. She’s bein’ treated in the doctor’s personal rooms ‘cause there isn’t any space, the assistant, Jocelyn, is lookin’ after her.”
John nodded quietly, the pads of his thumbs tapping together, and looked away, gazing across the street. Arthur had done the same, staring at the muddy ground at their feet, silent.
Charles looked between them.
He didn’t want to tell them, would never tell them, probably, that he had heard Sadie cursing up a storm and crying out, all the while refusing morphine, insisting she was fine, and that Ada hadn’t made a sound and hadn’t moved, eyes closed, lips parted as the doctor wiped and wiped the blood away, murmuring to himself as he tried to find the bullet.
Sniffing, he joined them in their silence, watching people go by. He wasn’t hungry anymore.
The citizens of Valentine tried to subtly look them over, some others being not so shy about it. No one came to talk to them but they lowered their voices as they went by, murmuring to one another about what might have happened, curious and speculative in a way that verged on disrespectful. The three men tried not to pay attention, thinking of nothing and everything.
Time ticked by silently.
Arthur was contemplating whether to just get that meal to have something to do, when the sound of shoes and a throat clearing came from behind them. He was the fastest to turn, followed by John, and then Charles, who was leaning against a wooden post. In fact at seeing the doctor, Wallace, approach, he shot up to his feet, lips parting as he stared at him, trying to assess his unreadable expression in the same moment he took in his hands wiping on his bloodied apron. John got to his feet, too, while Charles remained seated, all of them still silent.
Wallace pressed his lips together as he dropped his hands, fixing his gaze on Arthur. “Well, sir, I’ve done what I can for your wife. I got the bullet out but she has lost some amount of blood. If she makes it to the evening, though, and there isn’t an infection, then I’ll take that as a good sign, but we may not be out of the woods yet. I’ll keep a close eye on her as I may need to do a transfusion if she deteriorates in the next hour or so.” He looked between them all now. “Your friend, Sadie Adler, is weakened but conscious. They both need rest, gentlemen, and you all do, too. I recommend you get yourselves some rooms across the way there, I can send Jocelyn for you if anythin’ changes.” His attention returned to Arthur. “I gave your wife some morphine so she won’t have felt any pain during it, and she’ll also probably not wake for a while.”
Arthur stared at him, feeling hollow. “Can I...” He had to pause to clear his throat. “Can I see her?”
Wallace nodded, stepping aside. “Of course.”
“Thank you... Thank you, Doctor.” As Arthur passed him, he placed a grateful hand on his shoulder for the briefest of moments before he was striding across the store.
  The door to the backroom was ajar and, as he pushed it open, he stilled, hand pausing on the wood.
She was like stone on the table.
Swallowing hard, he took a couple of steps closer until his finger tips touched the table as he stood by the side of it, and he gazed down at her.
She was paler than she’d been from the cold of the mountain. Eyes closed, lips parted, her hands now folded neatly on her torso, her bloodied shirt settled back in its place. His fingers twitched, hesitating, before he raised his hand and lifted her shirt a few inches. The corset had been cut away, leaving room for the clean bandaging that was now wrapped around her stomach; he could see no sign of the wound. Lowering the shirt, his gaze travelled back up to her face. Mercifully, he could see her breathing, could see, clearly, that she was asleep, though her breaths... They were so faint that he found himself staring at her chest to see if she really was.
After a minute or so, his hand went to her cheek, cupping it gently as his thumb stroked across her skin slowly.
He didn’t realise he was crying until a tear dropped from his cheek and landed on his arm. Sniffing, he pressed his lips together, his teeth gritting. His finger tips brushed against her neck lightly, pausing for a few moments to feel her pulse. There, beating gently. Sniffing again, he released a breath.
“Awh, hell... You ain’t leavin’ me, woman...” he murmured, his voice cracking roughly.
Lowering his head, tears stung at his eyes as he kissed her forehead, her temple, cheeks, lips, chin...
Resting his forehead against her own, he closed his eyes, just holding still. 
He only straightened when he heard footsteps in the other room.
“Arthur?”
Wiping at his cheeks, he swallowed but didn’t turn at John’s voice, his hand settling over Ada’s.
“Yeah.”
“Uh, Charles has got us some rooms.” He was standing in the doorway behind him, voice quiet. “I’m gonna take Sadie over. You need anythin’?”
“Nah, thanks.”
“Sure.” John was silent for a few moments. “The doc’ says he’ll be in in a second to check on her.”
“All righ’.” Looking over his shoulder, Arthur gave him a faint, grateful smile, and the younger man nodded, returning it.
John watched as Arthur turned away, his attention returning to his wife, and his own gaze dropped, too. He held such great affection for Ada, he loved her, in fact, would forever be indebted to her for all that she’d done and for making Arthur happy. They’d all only just got each other back and now here they were... 
She looked like such a shell of herself on that table.
Looking away, he crossed the small, claustrophobic room to the doctor’s private chambers, pushing the heavy metal door open. Entering, he found Sadie sat on a similar table, except all around her were the signs and ornaments of life; photographs on walls, notebooks on counters, thick lace curtains covering windows, cushions on the floor from where chairs had been hastily shoved aside. The woman herself sat with her head bowed, eyes closed, hand resting on her side over her coat where her bandaged wound was. She lifted her head at the creaking of the door, and raised her eyebrows.
“‘bout damn time. Are we gettin’ out of here?”
John shook his head as he closed the door behind him, wanting to give Arthur some privacy. “Uh, nah, not yet.”
She stilled, studying him, her throat bobbing. “... She’s okay, right?”
He nodded quickly, holding his hat between his hands. “Yeah, yeah, she’s, uh, she’s okay. Doc’ says she ain’t out of the woods just yet, but she’s okay. We just gotta wait until tonight to see.”
“Okay.” Sadie inhaled a long breath before she slid off the table with a wince.
He was instantly by her side, an arm around her waist, pulling one of hers over his shoulder.
“Where we goin’, then?” she asked quietly as he helped her towards the door.
“We got some rooms at the hotel across the way. Charles is waitin’ there. We were thinkin’ about gettin’ somethin’ to eat, too, at the saloon.”
It was disconcerting, talking about such basic needs to take care of while they were waiting to find out if their friend was going to live or die.
They paused to allow him to open the door and, passing through, they paused again, John finding Arthur hadn’t moved, Sadie finding her friend lying motionless on the same table. Arthur turned again, giving Sadie the same small smile he’d given John as he met her gaze.
“Hey, Sadie, glad to see you’re okay.”
This was the moment, out of all the wonderful and terrible moments in the past week, that made Sadie want to just sit down and weep. She knew what Arthur was going through, what else he might have to endure, and it broke her heart.
Managing an easy smile, she blinked to clear her vision, relieved her voice held. “Thanks. Feel like shit.”
He gave an almost automatic, exhaled laugh, nodding. “Hm. Get some rest, won’t you.”
“Yeah. You try to, too.”
“Yeah.”
They both knew he wouldn’t. It was Sadie who moved first out of her and John, wanting to be out of that room before her chest caved in.
John didn’t say a word, and she was most grateful for it. She was grateful for the sounds of Valentine, too, as they crossed the store, for the signs of a world carrying on, regardless, regardless. Stepping out onto the boards and into the crisp, fresh air, she inhaled it deep into her lungs, forgetting for a moment she was wounded. Her stomach expanding with the breath pulled at the stitches, and her exhale was slightly hissed. John knew better than to make a comment. They moved down the steps into the mud, and her gaze travelled the street as she let John guide her towards the hotel though she could have done the journey with her eyes closed.
People were watching, staring, really, but as always she didn’t care. They always did when she came into town, whispering to each other all kinds of things. Sadie Adler, the female bounty hunter, who only came into town when trouble was around, and was more often than not covered in blood, her own and someone else’s. 
A frequent watcher met her gaze.
Sheriff Daniel was stood outside his office, hands on his hips, back straight, listening to what Doctor Wallace was telling him. He held her gaze for longer than necessary, though she was doing the exact same. He only looked away when Wallace seemed to bring their conversation to an end, smiling, ever the polite lawman.
Moving up the steps to the hotel, Charles waited for them inside, keys held in his hands. They just followed him up the stairs silently, hearts heavy.
John had pulled the door closed behind them as they’d left, and the room was now quiet.
He didn’t move and the room stayed quiet until the door opened again a few minutes later, though Arthur wasn’t aware of time. 
“Sir.”
Arthur blinked and turned quickly at the doctor’s voice, his hand staying on Ada’s.
“Doc’, hey.”
Wallace, still wearing the horrible, bloodied apron, came around to the other side of the table. Arthur watched him intently as he lifted her shirt and inspected the wound dressing, his fingers lightly pressing over it. He then lifted one of her hands, checking her pulse at her wrist, before carefully setting it and the shirt back in place. The back of his hand then went to her forehead, resting against it. As his hand came away, Arthur cleared his throat.
“How is she?”
“Fine.” Wallace rested his hands on the table, only to raise one after a moment to gesture at her torso. “She hasn’t bled through the stitches or dressing. No sign of a fever yet, either. It’s going to take some time for her to get her full strength back, though, if she makes it through the night.”
Arthur looked to him sharply, his jaw tensing.
Wallace pressed his lips together. “I’m a doctor, sir, I would be doing you a disservice if I wasn’t honest.”
Arthur’s eyebrows raised a fraction as he exhaled a breath. “I don’t know whether to thank you or hit you.”
The doctor surprised him with a light, brief smile. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that, sir.” Straightening, he wiped his hands on a clean section of his apron. “I assume you want to stay, and I won’t make you leave this time. I’ll check up on her every hour, though of course notify me if you believe anything is wrong.”
“Sure...” Arthur nodded, exhaling another breath as his shoulders dropped. “Thank you, again.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
“Arthur, please.”
“All right, Arthur.” Moving away from the table, Wallace finally untied his apron. “I’ll bring you a chair. Do you want something to eat?”
“No, thank you.”
Arthur was already holding her hand again, his thumb brushing back and forth over her knuckles. When Wallace brought him a chair, he gave his thanks once more and pulled it close to the table, sitting down and removing his hat, dropping it on the floor. 
He held her hand as his gaze went from her features to her torso and to the window opposite him over the next few hours. The small window gave no view to occupy him, just displayed the side of the next building. The lace of the curtain that covered it was thick enough that he wouldn’t have been able to see much anyway, just making out the shapes of people who occasionally passed and the colours of their coats. Charles came by to give him the key to a room for him, just in case. He didn’t stay long, just gazed down at Ada and patted Arthur comfortingly on the back.
Wallace came three times, every hour as promised, and the only change was that she was warmer, though he couldn’t confirm if it was a fever yet. However, as there was no fire in the room and all Arthur had found to put over her was her coat, he told him it was most likely one would occur, and while it was common, it would depend on how strong her body was for her to fight it.
When he left, Arthur turned his words over in his mind, his free hand rubbing across his brow. There were medicines and herbs of course, Wallace had reassured him on that which he already knew, but... This wasn’t the kind of sickness she usually caught in the winter, come from nowhere to attack her healthy, strong body. She was weak, and this could be the final straw.
He wiped at his eyes, feeling so utterly useless and helpless. He’d tried so hard not to think about her but... Millie was at home, waiting for them. Waiting for her Ma and Pa to come home and be there always, the illusion and safety of innocence not yet shattered. He held both of his wife’s hands tightly, his elbows on the table, eyes shining.
“You ain’t goin’ anywhere...” he murmured, not realising he was talking out loud. “... You ain’t leavin’ me... You ain’t goin...”
He closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing because he could feel the panic coming again. Deep breath in, deep breath out, deep breath in, deep breath out...
A sound startled him, making his eyes snap open and his head shoot up. The first thing his gaze landed on was the window and he found it was suddenly dark outside—
Ah, shit...
He’d fallen asleep. It must have been someone outside passing by who had roused him—
“Arthur?”
His eyes darted to her at the quiet voice, and met her gaze. His breath catching in his throat, his hands found hers again and gripped them as he leaned forward.
“Oh, I’m here, sweetheart, I’m here...”
Ada gazed at him, eyes not quite fully open, shaking faintly and sweating, still pale, but her thumb brushed against his skin slightly. 
“Is everyone okay?”
He could have wept.
Nodding, one hand moved to stroke her forehead and hair as he managed a smile, his heart aching. “Yeah, they’re all fine, darlin’, everyone’s okay.”
“Good.” She was obviously too exhausted to say more than a few words at a time. 
Wetting his dry lips, he continued to gently stroke her hair. “Are you okay?”
“Feel a little strange.”
“That might be the morphine wearin’ off. Do you feel warm?”
She shook her head slightly. “Cold.”
Shit. 
Her forehead was warm, very warm. He managed another smile as he stroked her cheek.
“All righ’, I’ll just go and get the Doc’, tell ‘im—”
“Don’t go.”
The flash of panic in her eyes sent a knife through his heart. He instantly tightened his grip on her hands and resumed stroking her hair, nodding a few times.
“Okay, sweetheart, I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
He watched her swallow thickly, tears now suddenly filling her eyes. Lifting one of her hands, he pressed a kiss to the back of it, a tear of his own sliding down his nose as he blinked. Meeting her gaze again, he managed another, faint smile, hoping to God his voice wouldn’t crack.
“I love you, Ada.”
It seemed to be both the best and the worst thing to say in that moment as her features crumbled slightly and she released a shaking breath.
“I love you, too.”
Sniffing, he clenched his jaw, trying to keep anymore tears at bay. “I thought... I thought I was gunna lose you, darlin’, I thought you were gonna...”
He couldn’t finish.
She nodded, fingers curling around his. “I thought I did, I...” A quiet sound escaped her, almost a sob. “... want to go home, I want to see Millie...”
He didn’t think his heart could have broken anymore. “I know, my love, I do, too. You gotta rest a little more, though.”
Ada was shaking her head before he’d even finished. “I don’t want to be here, I want to go home.”
“I know, I know...” He stroked her forehead, feeling it burn beneath his hand. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tilted his head, somehow summoning up a light smile. “Get some more rest, all righ’, I’ll talk with the Doc’, figure somethin’ out, okay?”
She just nodded, too tired to say anymore or argue. He watched her close her eyes, a short flash of panic racing through him with a prayer that she would open them again. Pressing another kiss to her hand, he then rose, his chair quietly scraping back against the wood. Wiping at his eyes, he finally released her hands and turned away, moving to the wooden door. 
He’d assumed the doctor would be behind the counter and he was right, the man reading a newspaper by candlelight. He set it down when Arthur entered, leaning back in his chair.
“Hello, Arthur. Everything all right?”
“Uh, yeah.” Arthur closed the door behind him and took a few more steps into the room, nearing him as he ran a hand through his hair. “She’s woken up.”
Wallace nodded as a smile pulled at his lips. “Has she? That’s wonderful. I’ll come in and—”
“Uh, actually, before you do...” Arthur interrupted him quietly, taking another step closer. “... I was just... Can I... Is it okay if I take her across to the hotel? It ain’t exactly comfortable on that table and she doesn’t want to be in there.”
The doctor pressed his lips together. “... The move might pain her, but... Yes, I can see the advantages of it as she does need comfortable rest. I don’t have anything that could be used to transport her over so you would have to carry her, which, as I said, might pain her. I don’t want the stitches to tear, either... You would have to be very careful.”
Arthur nodded quickly. “I would be.”
He regarded him for a moment, before nodding. “I’ll allow it.”
Arthur guessed he probably looked at relieved as he felt. “Thank you, Doc’.” He was about to turn away when he decided to take a chance. Licking his lips, he raised his hands slightly. “She wants to go home but I imagine you ain’t gonna allow that.”
Wallace tilted his head, raising his eyebrows. “No, I’m not. Not for a few days, at the very least.”
“Yeah, I thought as much.”
He hoped that this compromise would be enough for Ada, for now. He really didn’t want her getting upset or melancholy, not right now when she so needed rest.
She did open her eyes when he returned and even smiled faintly when he told her what was going to happen which cheered him more than he had thought. Yet he could see she wasn’t quite there, wasn’t quite herself... and there was still the actual moving part to happen. Wallace instructed him on how to carry her, that if any bleeding came through the bandaging he was to come for him immediately, and handed him a tonic to give her half of before he carried her, and another bottle of milky liquid for the potential fever. Arthur listened intently and assured him once again that he would be careful. Wallace didn’t doubt him.
Arthur helped Ada to drink a little of both of the tonics, and she winced at their bitter taste as he settled her coat more tightly around her. Then, it was time.
As carefully as he possibly could, he slid his arms under her and lifted her. Just like he’d been told to, he held her so her right side was against him, meaning her wound wouldn’t be disturbed. Still, it wasn’t comfortable. As he carried her through the store and out into the street, he glanced down at her every few moments and caught her pained winces, being too weak to hide them. Her eyes were closed, too, and he wished he could move faster.
Approaching the hotel, he encountered Sheriff Daniel exiting, placing his hat on his head. The lawman smiled warmly before his gaze dropped to Ada, and it faded.
“Can I offer my assistance, Arthur?”
“It’s okay, Sheriff, thank you.”
He thanked him once again as he held the door open for him, before nodding at the owner who’d obviously been told what had happened and just nodded back with a sense of familiarity and sympathy. Carrying her up the stairs was the hardest part. He felt her hand on the back of his coat, gripping it as tight as she could in her condition, and his stomach twisted. Small, strained sounds would escape her and he’d murmur apologies and soothing words.
Finally reaching the top, he moved down the narrow corridor to their room. It was unlocked, as Charles had said, and it only took a couple of moments for him to shift his hand and turn the door knob to push it open. It was a small room, but certainly bigger than the one she’d just been in. There were two windows, one opposite a warm fire and the other by the neatly made bed. There was a mirror in another corner, two chest of drawers against a wall, and a thin rug on the floor. He took her straight to the bed, laying her down as gently as he could but she still hissed in a breath. 
Once she was down, though, he pulled his arms out from under her carefully and lifted the coat from her. Draping it over the railing at the foot of the bed, he then lifted her shirt and, mercifully, found no blood had seeped through her bandages. Covering it again, he smiled as he met her gaze and pulled a blanket up over her.
“There, that okay?”
She nodded, and the move had obviously taken what little energy she’d had left out of her. “Yeah. Better.”
“Good.”
Stroking her cheek, he then moved to the door, closed and locked it, before setting the key on the closest chest of drawers. Pulling his boots off, he let them drop to the floor, leaving them where they lay. After inspecting the fire and adding a few more logs, he pulled the curtains closed and returned to her, unbuttoning his coat. She’d watched him the whole time, though he could tell it was some effort to keep her eyes open.
“Yeah, there we go...” he murmured as he left his coat and gun belt on the floor and carefully moved over her, settling by her side. “... Got a warm fire, soft bed, warm and soft husband...”
She smiled faintly, her hands settling on the arm he lay across her hips. It faded nearly instantly though as her head turned to him.
“I want to go home tomorrow, Arthur.”
He made his own light smile linger, his thumb rubbing over her hip, feeling the edge of the bandaging. “I know, darlin’. Let’s get some rest, though, huh, and we’ll talk about it in the mornin’.”
Again, she was too tired to argue. When her eyes closed, he pressed a kiss to her burning temple, feeling the sweat that covered her skin, and kept his gaze on her, swallowing.
Make it through, make it through, make it through...
— 
He was dragged from his sleep by the sounds of retching and nails digging into his arm. 
His eyes snapping open, he found her bent over the side of the bed, throwing up the little that was in her stomach into the chamber pot.
“Shit, darlin’...”
One arm quickly went around her to stop her from falling off the bed as the other held her hair back as best as he could. She only retched a few more times, her stomach empty. Releasing her hair, he stroked her back as she took in deep breaths, his heart aching.
A reaction to the medicine or the fever, possibly, hopefully, or maybe... 
Raising his hand to her forehead, he cupped it and found it wasn’t burning.
Shit.
Rubbing her back again, he gave her all the time she needed.
“It’s okay, sweetheart... It’s all right...”
When she eventually lay back down, she was pale, drawn, shaking and sweating, but lucid. She responded when he asked if she was okay, nodding and humming out a sound. His other hand went to her shirt, lifting it.
He saw what he’d feared; spots of blood on the bandage.
Dropping the shirt, he smoothed her damp hair away from her face, watching her fix her gaze on the wall as she breathed deeply.
“Sweetheart, I’m gonna go and get the doctor, all righ’, he needs to take a look at you.”
She didn’t protest, didn’t even really react, and he swiftly pulled his boots on, unlocking and darting out of the door, his heart pounding. 
It was well past midnight but revellers were still at the saloon, some drunkenly calling out to him as he ran, laughing. He ran down an alley way between two buildings, heading for the back door of the Doctor’s building. Slamming his fist several times against the metal door, breathing hard, he stared at it, murmuring under his breath, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon...”
Wallace was, thankfully, a light sleeper, opening the door less than a minute after Arthur knocked on it. He only needed to see Arthur’s expression. Grabbing his bag, they hurried over to the hotel and Arthur stood by the door as Wallace attended to her, feeling her forehead, pulse, unwrapping the bandages and cleaning up some of the blood that had come from a couple of torn stitches.
She panted lightly, staring up at the ceiling as her hair stuck to her skin.
He agreed with Arthur, that perhaps it must have been from the medicine she’d been give as, although she was warm, no extreme fever seemed to have a hold of her. Ada just lay with her eyes closed, breathing in and out. Once Wallace was satisfied, Arthur shook his hand, thanked him once again, and went to close the door after the doctor had declined his offer to walk him out.
Wallace stopped him, turning at the last moment and saying quietly, “It’s going to be a difficult night, Arthur, for both of you. This may be a reaction to the tonic, yes, but it could also be from the situation. Being attacked and shot can take quite the toll on the mind. It could be catching up to what has happened and she could be in shock.”
Arthur nodded, running a hand through his hair as he took in a breath, looking and feeling twenty years older. “Yeah, I... That’s what I'd feared.”
The man studied his features. “You’ve seen her like this before?”
He just nodded again, not wanting to divulge the far too many times he had.
“Then you know what to do, Arthur.”
Arthur watched him head down the corridor, gripping the door handle.
Yes. Yes, he did.
They were the words he needed to hear, the reassurance he needed. Closing and locking the door, he turned to her.
She was sucking in breaths that weren’t quite long enough, her hands gripped together on her stomach, knuckles white, eye shining.
He knew it wasn’t a fever, not all of it, maybe not any of it. She was trapped in her mind, resuming what had started on Mount Hagen with her murmured, “It’s over...”
He approached the bed, his heart aching unbearably, but yes, he knew what to do. Gently lifting her leg, he removed her boot, then pulled off the other, settling them side by side on the floor by the foot of the bed. Moving over her carefully, he settled at her side on his back, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her a little closer until her head was on his shoulder. Again, she didn’t protest, didn’t react. He stroked her arm lightly, his other hand resting over her clenched ones, caressing her knuckles while his cheek settled against the top of her head.
She was rigid against him, but he just held and stroked her, gazing at the same wall she was. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire and her harsh breaths. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he didn’t think about time, didn’t think about much at all really, just focussed on her and every breath she took as he waited.
And then, finally, finally, finally, not long after a clock in the room chimed the early hour, the fear and the grief and the shock was released from her with a shuddering sob.
He held her tighter as she cried and cried, a hand coming up to cover her face as she turned her head closer to him. He didn’t say anything, letting her release it all. A few tears of his own slipped down his cheek but he felt a weight lift off of his chest; it had sometimes taken days for the melancholy to break, even weeks, and while he wished he could give her all that time, it just couldn’t be done now.
He also knew that it wouldn’t leave her completely, probably wouldn’t until they were home and maybe not even then, but he was relieved, for now.
Tightening his arms around her, he closed his eyes, his hand coming up to cup her neck, his thumb stroking against her jaw.
“You’re okay, sweetheart... You’re okay...” he murmured as her body shook against his from her sobs, his shirt wet. “... It’s over, we’re safe...”
And, he realised himself with an ache in his chest, that they finally were.
He felt fingers running through his hair, gently untangling locks of it. It was so soothing.
Good, a nice dream.
He hummed quietly, tilting his head closer to the touch. Gentle laughter came and it made him smile; it sounded just like her.
“Good morning...” the voice he loved most in the world murmured and he smiled.
“Mornin’...”
Lips brushed against his chin and, damn, it felt real.
Wait a second...
His sleep-addled brain was slow to catch up, and he almost didn’t believe what it was telling him. He almost didn’t want to find out, but...
Opening his eyes, he found the love of his life gazing at him, her finger tips brushing against his jaw, dark circles under her tired eyes but she was...
“Sweetheart?”
Ada’s smile widened.
“Hello, my love.”
“Oh, Ada...”
Euphoria overwhelmed him as he cupped her cheek and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. She was still smiling as she returned it, her finger tips resting against his neck. He kissed her over and over again until she was laughing softly. He swiftly drew his head back, however, when the events of the night came crashing back to him.
“How do you feel? Are you okay?” His hand went to her forehead so quickly he nearly smacked her in the head and she just couldn’t stop smiling.
“Well, I feel like I’ve been kicked by a horse and thrown down a ravine, but fine.”
"You sure?”
He believed her, his thumb stroking across her cheekbone, but she looked completely exhausted, and he was asking after more than her physical state.
She nodded, her other hand resting on her torso. “Yeah, just fine.”
“Christ, woman...” He kissed her again, and poured every ounce of love he had for her into it. She understood and returned every bit of it, not pulling back until he did.
Caressing her cheek, he gazed at her, shaking his head. “I love you, Ada.”
“I love you,” she murmured, tilting her head as her fingers traced down his jaw. 
Real. Real and alive.
His eyes travelled her features, the lines at the corners of her eyes he loved so much, the slope of her nose, the shape of her lips...
She watched him watch her, a light shine to her eyes. She knew the kind of relief he was feeling.
A trader shouting outside, heralding potential customers, pulled him out of his daze, his eyebrows raising as he blinked.
“Shit, I’m sorry, you want anythin’? Somethin’ to eat, drink?”
“I’m a little thirsty.”
“Shit, sorry...”
She laughed softly, awkwardly, the movement probably paining her a little as her stomach moved, while he moved over her, pausing to press a firm kiss to her lips before he continued on, setting his boots on the floor.
"Okay...” Grabbing his coat and gunbelt from the floor, he pulled them on as his gaze returned to her. “... I’m gonna see where the others are, see how they’re doin’, and then I’m gonna get us some food and water, all righ’?”
She nodded, her smile lingering.
“And then we can go home?”
He managed to stop himself from pausing as he adjusted the collar of his coat. One corner of his mouth lifting a little higher than the other, he started to button it.
“We’ll talk once we’ve got food in our stomachs, all right? I can’t think straight on an empty stomach, you know that. I won’t be long.”
She smiled tenderly as he approached. “Bye.”
He placed a hand on the mattress and leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.
“Have I told you I love you?” he murmured against them, and her fingers brushed against his cheek.
“Tell me again.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Arthur Morgan.”
When he kissed her again her hands cupped his face and it took a Herculean effort for him to break it.
“All righ’, all righ’...” he sighed begrudgingly, pulling his head back and gazing down at her.
Shaking his head at her faintly mischievous smile, God, he loved her so much, his fingers stroked her hip.
He paused at feeling the bandage. His gaze dropping, he lifted her shirt, and found the bandage a pristine white, no blood to be seen anywhere.
Thank God.
He just couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing her again. She hummed softly against his lips and, oh, Christ, he had to pull away.
“I won’t be long,” he repeated as he strode for the door, hearing her chuckle at his speed.
He smiled at her as he unlocked and opened it, his heart warming as she returned it. 
“Bye, sweetheart.”
“Goodbye, my love.”
Closing the door behind himself, he paused, shook his head in disbelief and relief, and then headed down the corridor with the smile still on his lips. A door near the stairs opened and John’s head peered out, eyes tired but wide.
“Hey, is she okay? I heard you’d brought her over, and I thought I heard somethin’ goin’ on last night.”
Arthur nodded as he paused, shrugging. “Yeah...” He still couldn’t quite believe what he was about to say. “... Yeah, she’s, she’s awake and fine, talkin’. A little weak, I think, but fine.”
A wide smile broke across John’s features as he clapped him on the back. “Jesus Christ, that’s great!”
Arthur chuckled as he ran his hand through his hair. “I know, I know...” His smile faded, however, as he recalled her earlier words. Lowering his voice, he continued, “... But, uh... She wants to go home but I don’t think the doc’ will allow it. I said we’d talk about it after eatin’. She’s desperate to but I don’t see how I can persuade him.”
John exhaled a breath as he kept his voice low, too. “Yeah, Sadie’ll probably want to move on, too, but I don’t think he’s gonna let either of ‘em go, and I kinda agree with him.”
Arthur nodded, half of him, which the other half called traitorous, agreeing as well. “I know, I know... Anyway, you want anythin’ from the store?”
“Nah, I’m okay, thanks. Charles and I bought some stuff last night.”
“All righ’. Well, get Charles and Sadie, if she’s okay, and go to our room, it’s unlocked. We’ll all talk.”
“Okay. And, hey...” He stopped the older man before he continued on, a smile pulling at his lips. “... She’s okay.”
Arthur smiled, nodding a few times. “She’s okay.”
Valentine was it’s usual quietly bustling self, the day not yet reaching noon. He moved down the steps at the front of the hotel onto the street, elation, relief and euphoria still swirling around in his chest. He didn’t care that people were still staring and whispering, most, even though they didn’t know them, smiling to themselves at his obvious change in demeanour and what was the cause of it.
The woman was okay.
The general store owner even asked him outright how they were all doing, and he indulged him in saying they were all fine, though nothing more. He was suddenly reminded once again why he and Ada didn’t live near a town or city, and how grateful he was that Nathaniel and Martha didn’t intrude upon their land unless they were invited.
Nodding his thanks at the owner, he gathered the tins and packets of fruit into his arms and headed out into the cold light of the sun. Their horses were nowhere to be seen, but they wouldn’t be far, grazing probably or resting under a tree. He could hear metal striking metal again, and the butcher by the hotel calling out today’s prices for—
He paused on the porch, inches from the steps.
Charles and Dr. Wallace were hurrying up the stairs to the hotel, Charles talking quickly to him as he took the lead, looking back over his shoulder every couple of seconds. Unease was written across every inch of both their features.
Arthur's stomach dropped.
The cans tumbled out of his arms, colliding with wood and rolling down the steps into the mud, and he was down the stairs and about to sprint across the street when a horse suddenly whinnied loudly to his right. His head whipping to the side, he had to quickly stumble backwards as a rider trotted by, tutting at him.
“Watch where you’re goin’, pal!”
Ignoring him, Arthur ran, nearly slipping in the mud. Two men sat on the hotel porch stared at him as he approached, their conversation trailing off as he ran past them. He startled the hotel owner, too, when he stormed in, leaving the door open.
“Uh, sir—”
He ignored him, sprinting up the stairs, taking two, three at a time.
He could hear raised voices coming from their room, only able to distinguish them when he reached the top step.
“No!” Sadie was shouting over whoever was trying to calm her down, their voice low and soothing. “No! Don’t you touch me!”
She sounded truly angry, and his heart twisted.
No, no, no, no, no, no...
The door was open and he stepped in and—
He froze, hands gripping the frame and door handle to physically stop himself.
Everyone in the room paused, staring at him. Charles, Dr. Wallace, John, Sadie, Sheriff Daniel and... Ada.
She was sat up, leaning back against the headboard, her brow dipping.
“Arthur?”
“Uh, hey...” His gaze went from her to Sadie who, sat on the edge of the bed, was trying to slap the growing increasingly frustrated Wallace’s hands away from her torso, to the Sheriff who was leaning against the wall by the window close to them, arms folded across his chest.
“Hey, Arthur,” he greeted with a light smile.
Arthur cleared his throat as his hands dropped, trying to recover as swiftly as he could. “Sheriff Daniel. What a surprise.”
He resisted the urge to glance at the rest of them because what the hell was going on.
Daniel inclined his head. “My apologies for droppin’ by without invitation but I wanted to see how Mrs Adler and your wife were doin’. I’m relieved to see they’re both okay.”
“Yeah, they’re gettin’ there, it seems.” Arthur looked to Wallace, quickly nodding at him in greeting. “Doc’.”
The doctor was unhappy, his lips pressed together. “Arthur. You should have come for me this morning, their wounds need cleaning and redressing. Both of them.”
Sadie snorted. “Yeah, whatever, I’m fine.”
Wallace fixed his gaze on her, his eyebrows high. “Do you want an infection, Mrs Adler? Do you want to die?”
“Oh, this ain’t gonna kill me, you’ve patched up worse, Wallace.”
Arthur had thought Doctor Wallace quite the unflappable man, but it seemed Sadie Adler was his limit.
He was quietly verging on apoplectic as he stepped towards her once more. “Mrs Adler, just let me help you, please—”
Sadie stood, veering out of his reach, and placed her hands on her hips as she moved to stand by the bedside table. “Dan, you said you had somethin’ to tell us when Arthur got here?”
They all fell silent, except Wallace who was muttering under his breath.
Arthur did glance away this time, looking to the nearest person, Charles, who was stood by the chest of drawers behind Daniel. Charles just raised his eyebrows slightly, as surprised as he was.
His gaze returned to the Sheriff as Daniel nodded, his arms dropping, one hand going into his pocket.
“That I did. I just wanted to let y’all know that my boys went out to Hagen.” 
Shit.
Sheriff Daniel looked around the room at them all now, giving Arthur the opportunity to glance at Charles again and John, now, who was to his left. They were incredibly still, though he’d bet their hearts had started beating just as fast as his was.
Shit... Fuck...
Daniel's expression was giving no indication of his thoughts as he continued. “They found some bodies up there, at a campsite. Seems like there was a mighty fight.”
His eyes landed on Arthur as he finished.
Arthur raised his eyebrows in faint surprise. “Does it? Well, Micah Bell seemed like the kind of feller with a lot of enemies.”
“Yeah.” Daniel held his gaze. “My boys gathered the bodies and burned ‘em, so, guess no one’s gonna get that reward.”
“Shame,” Sadie said, shaking her head as she folded her arms across her chest, the picture of disappointment.
“Yeah,” Daniel looked at her with an easy smile that was so familiar to his face. “Well, just thought y’all would be interested to know.” Tipping his hat, he met each of their eyes in turn. “Good day to you all, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Yeah, thanks, good day, Sheriff,” Arthur said as stepped aside to allow him to pass, managing to not look as incredibly relieved as he felt.
Silence lingered in the room as they all listened to the sound of Sheriff Daniel’s boots disappearing down the hall and stairs, then his faint, cheerful farewell to the hotel owner, before the front door was closed.
Wallace, who had been rifling through his bag and muttering to himself still, hadn’t noticed the other occupants of the room glancing at one another with eyebrows raised high and mouths slightly open.
Well, I’ll be damned... Arthur thought, scratching at his forehead before his fingers ran through his hair.
‘Lucky’ didn’t quite seem to cover it.
Their expressions quickly neutralised as Wallace sighed and moved to Charles, shoving bandages, cloths and a small bottle of clear liquid into his hands.
“Here. You seem like the most sensible person in this room, Mr Smith, so I will entrust you with these. Make sure their wounds are cleaned and freshly dressed and that they eat and drink something.”
Lifting his bag, he turned a stern eye on the two women. “Please rest, both of you. I shall return later in the day.”
“Yep, will do, can’t wait,” Sadie answered jovially as Wallace strode across the room to the door.
Arthur murmured his thanks to him and earned a small nod before the doctor exited. Closing the door behind him, Arthur leaned back against it and folded his arms across his chest as he blew out a breath.
They all seemed to release a breath of their own, Sadie’s arms dropping, John resting an elbow on the chest of drawers beside him, Charles placing the bandages, cloths and bottle on the end of the bed, Ada’s shoulders slumping.
He gazed at her, allowing his heart to resume its normal pattern. Fucking Christ, he’d thought he’d lost her again. He was about to move closer when John chuckled.  
“Wow, guess your boyfriend ain’t so bad after all, Sadie.”
Sadie tutted, narrowing her eyes at him. “He ain’t my boyfriend, John Marston.”
“Sure, sure...”
Arthur joined John in his laughter, and it felt damn good to do so. Ada was also smiling, glancing up at Sadie and earning a narrowed stare herself, though her own lips were twitching.
Arthur’s gaze lingered on Ada’s smile, and then she was looking at him and it was widening.
“So, when can we leave?”
The words, so few, knocked the wind out of him, his smile fading. The others fell silent, too, John probably having told them what Wallace had said, or just guessing.
Clearing his throat quietly, he answered gently, “Ada, the doc’ says we can’t for a little while.”
She’d sensed the shift in the air. Glancing briefly to Sadie, Ada was still, her hands in her lap.
“How long?”
He paused for a moment. “Few days, at least.”
“A few days?” Her stricken expression made his chest ache. “Arthur, we said to Thom and Charlotte we’d be gone for two, they’ll start to worry—”
“I know, but the doc’ ain’t gonna allow it, you were barely on your feet yesterday and—”
“I’m fine now. Yes, it’ll need cleaning and changing but we can do that at home!”
“Darlin’—”
“What about Millie?”
Arthur looked at her as their daughter’s name hung in the air, and she stared back. The others were silent, either staring at the floor or their hands. 
He knew that bringing Millie up wasn’t an unfair insinuation that he’d hadn’t thought of her, that she was actually just angry and tired and anxious. Arthur unfolded his arms, his hands raising slightly before they dropped to his sides.
“Ada, I... I wanna see her, too. I know you know that. But it ain’t gonna help matters by rushin’ back when you ain’t well enough—”
“But I am—”
“I can ride out there.”
Their eyes darted to Charles. The man nodded as he looked between them, shrugging slightly.
“I’ll go, let them know.”
“You would do that?” Arthur asked quietly after a moment of silence, feeling like another weight was being lifted from him.
Charles smiled. “Of course.”
Arthur looked to Ada who licked her lips, her eyes shining as her voice caught in her throat slightly. “Millie can’t know what’s happened, none of them can. Thom would...” She paused for a couple of moments before shaking her head. “... I don’t want them to worry, and we should be the ones to tell them. Just say that...” She glanced at Arthur who nodded. “... Just say we’ve decided to stay at John and Abigail’s for another day or so, that you left early as you have to be somewhere. I’ll write something so they know we sent you. They know you by name but... just in case.”
Their friend nodded, looking between the two desperate, grateful parents again. “Okay, I’ll just get my things.”
“Thank you, Charles,” Ada murmured and he smiled at her again as he crossed the room.
Arthur placed his hand on his arm as he went to pass him, making him pause, and murmured his own, “Thank you, I can’t tell you what this...”
He trailed off, unable to express the enormity of his gratitude with words alone.
Charles understood, and patted his shoulder before he headed out of the room.
Running a hand down his mouth, Arthur’s hands then settled on his belt as his attention returned to Ada. She was already looking at him, eyes still shining, lips slightly pressed together as she tried to hold back her tears.
“Arthur, where’s the food?”
He blinked at Sadie’s voice, taking a second to figure out what she was talking about.
Oh... Shit.
“Oh, uh, I’ll get it. I was about to get it and then I saw the Doc’ and Charles headin’ over here and, uh...” He glanced at Ada, catching her lips pressing together a little more firmly as she realised what he must have thought. “... I’ll get it now, I won’t be long.”
“Can you get me some paper and a pen from the front desk, too?” Ada’s voice managed not to crack or catch, and he nodded, giving her a tender smile.
“Sure.”
He brought them to her, after retrieving the cans from the mud and quickly wiping them clean, and she wrote a jovial a message as she could as Sadie sat beside her and ate, as did John, leaning by the window. She wrote about what great fun they were having but they missed them and would be home soon. Folding it over once she’d finished, she held the note out to Arthur with a faint smile.
“Well, this’ll have to do.”
He crossed the room from where he’d been leaning against a chest of drawers, watching her, and took it. She was about to drop her hand when he caught it and raised it, lowering his head at the same time. Pressing a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, he straightened and held it for a few moments longer as he spoke.
“We’ll be home soon, sweetheart.”
All she could do was nod.
He found Charles by a group of trees by the church, his horse grazing on the lush, green grass.
The man mounted as he approached and gathered the reins, turning his horse towards him.
“I’ll be back tonight,” he said, tucking the note into a pocket inside his coat. “Anything you want me to bring for you?”
Arthur shook his head, hands sliding into his pockets. “Nah, it’s fine. Just... see how my little girl’s doin’. And thank you. Again.”
Charles took the hand he offered, shaking it firmly with a sincere nod. “Anytime, Arthur. Anytime.”
Arthur watched him ride away down the muddy path towards the train station. From there he’d head east and it’d just be straight roads to Newfields Rest. It’d take three, four hours at most... So close and yet so far from their daughter.
Turning away, Arthur’s hand returned to his pocket as he exhaled a breath.
Nah, don’t think about any of that now...
When he returned to the room, Ada was alone. She smiled instantly at the sight of him, her features softening, blankets pulled up to her stomach as she leaned back against the pillows.
“Hey,” he murmured as he closed the door behind himself. “Where’d everybody go?”
She played with the frayed end of a blanket as she watched him shrug his coat off. “John went to have a bath, Sadie’s decided to take a nap.”
He rolled his sleeves up as he glanced at the fire. Someone had built it higher, making the room rather warm. “She get that wound cleaned?”
Ada’s lips twitched up a little higher. “In the end. It took some manipulating on my part.”
He arched an eyebrow, unsuccessfully trying to stop a smile as he moved closer. “That so?”
“I’m not proud of it, but yes. I said something along the lines of how I want her to live to meet my daughter.”
Arthur exhaled a laugh as she shifted her legs over slightly so he could sit on the edge of the bed. “That was a dirty move, Mrs Morgan.”
She pulled a slight face, the smile still lingering faintly on her lips. “Yes, it was. But it wasn’t exactly untrue.”
He nodded a few times, his hand settling over hers. She turned it over, their palms resting against each other, and gripped his hand a little tighter.
“Has Charles gone?” she murmured, and he nodded again, his thumb brushing against hers.
“Yeah. Said he’d be back by tonight.”
She didn’t say anything, gazing down at their hands. Neither of them wanted to talk about what they were feeling. His gaze drifted to the small bottle and cloth beside her, bandages neatly coiled beside it.
Gently pulling his hand away, he reached for the cloth and bottle. “C’mon, let’s get your own wound cleaned, huh?”
She dutifully pulled her shirt up above the bandages and sat up to give him room to unwind them. He’d shifted forward a little more to do so, and her head gently leaned against his, her eyes closing. Listening to her breathe softly, he unwound and unwound, finally pulling it away and dropping it to the floor. She lifted her head and lay back again with a wince, her hands keeping her shirt up.
Pouring some of the liquid onto a cloth, he began to dab at the wound. She hissed in a sharp breath through her teeth, her nose scrunching up, and he glanced up at her, watching her press her lips together as she exhaled a breath.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his other hand settling on her thigh.
“It’s fine. Just stings a little.” She gave him a soft smile. “How does it look?”
“Good. I mean, I ain’t a doctor but it looks good.”
It had startled him, the night before, how strange the wound was, not as circular as he’d imagined, but ragged and uneven, which was probably due to how Wallace had had to dig the bullet out. He’d stitched it very well, though, so neatly, and even though the bruising around it made it look worse, Arthur trusted that Wallace had done a fine job.
Gently sweeping the cloth over the stitching, after a few moments he felt her hand settle over his other.
“Arthur, we have to get back before those letters are delivered.”
He met her gaze, moving the cloth away, his forearm resting on his thigh. “I know, but—”
“Please, Arthur, it’s not far.” Her fingers squeezed around his. “I want to recover at home.”
He nodded a few times, his gaze dropping as he took in a long breath. He could have just repeated what Wallace had told him, told her no, that she had to stay put and rest, that that would be for the best, but... He couldn’t have ever done that, not knowing her and loving her as he did.
Tilting his head slightly, he looked up at her, his voice quiet. “’spose we could... get a wagon, I could put some blankets in it, you could lie down, might make it easier.”
Hope brightened her eyes as her lips lifted, squeezing his hand again. “That’ll work, that’ll do.”
“I’ll talk to the doc’, see what he says.” He swept his thumb over her knuckles as she pressed her lips together, his features softening. “You know we can’t go without his blessin’.”
“I know.” She pulled her hand from his and cupped his face, her smile tender. Stroking her thumbs over his cheekbones, she gazed at him as her smile widened a little more. “You could always show him how big and tough you are.”
He chuckled, arching an eyebrow as he tucked a curl behind her ear. “I think it’d really disappoint Dan if I did that.”
“Hmm, that’s true. And he’s become such a great friend.”
His chuckle was muffled by her lips meeting his. The kiss was soft and tender, his hand moving to cup the back of her neck to keep her close. She hummed lightly, and it stirred something within him, his other hand releasing the cloth and settling on her waist. She took that as an invitation she was ready to accept, her tongue touching against his lips until they parted and she met his tongue.
His fingers tangled into her hair, and she hummed again, the sound full of longing. Christ, he wanted her. He wanted to feel his wife, to hear the sounds she only made for him, to take them away from here for a little while, to—
Three sharp knocks sounded on the door.
The kiss swiftly ended, their eyes darting to the door, but their hands remained on one another.
“It’s me,” Sadie called a moment later, sounding disgruntled.
They shared a look, smiles pulling at their lips even as disappointment lingered in their eyes. Her hands went to her lap as his took up the cloth again and doused it in more liquid.
“Come in,” he called.
The door opened instantly, Sadie entering with the corners of her mouth turned down.
“Can’t fuckin’ sleep with all them people talkin’ and wagons and horses...”
After closing the door behind herself, she strode across the room, kicking her boots off, and climbed onto the bed behind Arthur, settling close to the wall with her arms folded across her chest.
Arthur met Ada’s gaze again as he gently wiped a few more times at the stitches, both of them trying to stifle their grins, and Ada cleared her throat.
“Is your room on the front?”
“Yeah,” she grumbled, adjusting her head on the pillow. “Like a damn circus out there.”
“Well, make yourself at home.” Arthur folded the cloth and placed it on the bedside table along with the bottle. 
“Oh, I will.”
Ada leaned forward again as Arthur picked the fresh bandages up, and he wound them around her, covering the wound, and tied it securely. He brushed his thumb lightly over it, a small gesture of affection, and Ada smiled, mouthing her thanks. He settled her shirt back in place with a nod, and then stood with a groan.
“All righ’, I won’t be long.”
Sadie cracked an eye open. “Where you goin’?”
He pulled his coat on once more, raising his eyebrows. “To see the doc’.”
She snorted, her eye closing. “Ugh, tell ‘im I did as I was told. I’m sure it’ll make his damn day.”
Arthur caught Ada’s expression as he headed for the door, and knew she was thinking exactly the same as him.
I sure hope it does put him in a good mood.
“Doc’?”
Wallace turned from the cabinet he was arranging at Arthur’s voice and the bell above the door tinkling. 
“Arthur, good afternoon.”
“Hello, sir.”
Arthur closed the door behind him, keeping the bitter cold out, as Wallace nudged a bottle into place before closing the cabinet and turning his full attention to him. 
“How is your wife?”
“Fine, thank you. She’s eaten a little and I got that wound cleaned.”
Wallace nodded, moving towards the store counter. “Good, that’s very good. And Mrs Adler, dare I ask?”
Arthur couldn’t stop a smile from pulling at his lips. “Yeah, her, too. She’s takin’ a nap righ’ now.”
“Ah, a miracle,” the doctor answered drily. Rifling through some papers on the counter, he glanced up at Arthur and paused, watching the man hesitate. “What is it?”
Arthur’s jaw moved as he hesitated again. “... Ada wants to go home.”
Wallace sighed, straightening. “Sir—”
“Look, I know, I know,” Arthur interjected, holding a hand out. “But we got a little girl and we ain’t been away from her, ever, so we really wanna get back to her.”
“I understand that but—”
“We don’t live too far away, only out by Emerald Ranch. If I, if I got a wagon, I could lay her down in it, go slow, it’s flat roads all the way there.”
Wallace was, as far as Arthur could see, unmoved. “Arthur—”
It made him feel somewhat desperate. “Please, doc’. She ain’t gonna even try to get better if she can’t see her daughter, trust me.”
Silence fell.
The doctor looked at him, his jaw moving slightly. “The melancholy that overcame her last night, and that’s happened before, do you believe it would return and worsen?”
Arthur nodded. “Yeah. Last night ain’t the worst it’s been and... like I said, she ain’t gonna try if she can’t see her.”
Wallace exhaled a breath, the sound close to a sigh. Seconds ticked by before he spoke again.
“I’ve passed through Emerald Ranch before, they have a doctor there, don’t they?”
Arthur managed to hide his surprise, and the small glimmer of hope that was growing. “Uh, yeah. He’s mostly there for the animals, but he’s good with people, too. Helped my wife when she gave birth.”
The other man nodded once. “All right, I’ll allow it.”
Relief flooded through him as he released a breath, but Wallace was already raising a finger, eyebrows high.
“But you go tomorrow and slow and you will have to be the voice of reason, sir, no matter how much it breaks your heart. If you need to stop because she’s in pain, you stop, don’t let her persuade you to continue.”
Arthur nodded several times. “Yes, sir. Thank you—”
“And it’s on you if anything happens to her.”
That dimmed some of his joy, his throat bobbing as he nodded again. “I know.”
 Something already has happened that’s on me.
“And...” Wallace’s finger was still raised, expression stern and resolute. “... only if she can get out of that bed, down the stairs and to the saloon for a proper meal.”
Oh, shit...
He’d planned on carrying her down to the wagon, if permission had been granted. Even just sitting up had given her some pain, so moving by herself...
Managing to hide his apprehension, he inclined his head. “Yes, sir, I’ll make sure we have dinner there tonight.”
“All right.” Wallace lowered his hand, returning to his papers, his gaze dropping. “The same for Mrs Adler, too. Though I doubt she’ll heed any of my professional opinions.”
"I think I’m gonna go down to South America.”
Sadie popped a peach segment into her mouth as she nodded, licking her lips before continuing.
“It’s wild there but, less mean, I guess. Think I’ll run protection for a gold mine or somethin’ or take up with a handsome revolutionary, I don’t know.” She smiled, shaking her head. “Just wanna see somethin’ else.”
Ada gazed at her with a smile, chewing on a grape. The moment the door had closed behind Arthur, Sadie had continued talking, about the noise, about how small this town was, and now to the current topic; what was next.
“That sounds wonderful. I hope you’ll write to me, and visit, if you can.”
Sadie grinned, meeting her gaze. “I’d love to.”
“Good. And I suppose you’ll have to visit here again, too...” Ada’s lips twitched at Sadie’s frown. “... That Sheriff Daniel’s quite a feller, very handsome...”
Sadie released a laugh, wiping peach juice from her mouth with the back of her hand. “Ha, yeah. He came over yesterday and this mornin’ before he came in here, won’t stop askin’ me how I am, if I’m all right, if I need anythin’...” She finished in a faux love-sick voice, making Ada laugh.
“You mean like a decent person would?”
The blonde woman snorted. “Yeah, but he gets these moony eyes when he looks at me.”
Ada grinned, arching an eyebrow. “Certainly seems like he could duel a revolutionary.”
“Now I’d like to see that!”
They laughed, and Arthur’s smile widened at the sound of it as he opened the door and entered. They looked to him, laughter trailing off as their smiles lingered, and he raised his hands as he pushed the door closed with his boot.
“Doc’ says we can go tomorrow.”
He hadn’t thought it possible, but Ada’s smile widened, her eyes lighting up. “What? Really?!”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, leaning against the chest of drawers as Sadie patted her arm, grinning. “I just gotta find a wagon and, uh...” He trailed off slightly, clearing his throat. “... And you just gotta get up and go across to the saloon for a meal.”
Her smile froze, her brow dipping. “... Really?”
“Yeah.” His thumb and forefinger rubbed together, a strange, nervous sensation in his chest.
There was the slightest of pauses before her eyebrows raised as she shrugged. “Well. I can do that.”
“Yeah.” He felt like an idiot, repeating himself so damn much. Making his lips rise a little higher, he glanced at Sadie, her smile gone, though she quickly reformed it. “We’ll have dinner there tonight, all of us.”
“Sounds good,” the blonde woman answered, keeping her tone light.
His gaze returned to Ada and he caught it before she could smother it; her apprehension.
“Well...” She smiled lightly as she adjusted her shoulders on the pillow. “I think I’ll join Sadie and take a nap until then.”
“All righ’, sweetheart. I’ll go see where John is, and see about a wagon.” He paused, glancing at Sadie again, and thankfully found that she’d closed her eyes. His features softening, he met Ada’s gaze and mouthed, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she mouthed back with a softer smile, her fingers lacing together.
He left them to their rest, quietly closing the door on his way out and heading to John’s room. There was no response to his knock, and the door was locked, so Arthur assumed he was out somewhere, eating, still bathing or tending to his horse. He should probably do the same.
Finding Noka and Titan near the stables, grazing on a pile of hay that had been left there, he murmured lowly to them, soothing them and stroking their faces. Retrieving a brush from his saddlebag, he brushed them down, taking his time with the task. It was John who found him a short while later, leading his horse, Rachel, by the reins and carrying a bucket of oats in his other hand. They tended to the horses together, taking the time to clean and polish the saddles, too, while talking about the prospect of going home tomorrow and where they might be able to find a wagon.
After they’d finished, they strolled around the town, enquiring. The general store owner directed them to a man at the saloon by the church, who directed them to another man there, who directed them to the tents by the stables. After some negotiating, a Dutch man sold them a wagon, that was just big enough for someone to lie down in, for more than it was worth but the wheels were sturdy and it had the space needed and that’s all Arthur cared about. They used Titan to pull the wagon around to the front of the hotel, asking the owner if they could leave it there. He agreed, for a small fee, and afterwards they went up to John’s room where they divided the Blackwater spoils between the five of them.
Arthur still couldn’t believe it, his gaze travelling over the shining bars, coins and jewellery as he held wads of bills in his hands. He felt strange, finally holding it, owning it. He’d thought about that job, the one out of many that had gone so wrong, over the last few years. Had that been the turning point? Dutch had killed a woman then, and it had unsettled him and the others but... Well, things had just carried on, hadn’t they? Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he tucked his and Ada’s share into one of the saddlebags John had carried the loot down in, telling himself what good the money could do now.
Yes, he could build that stable, take on more horses, earn more of his honest income, and buy more materials for Ada so she could expand her own business, more books and clothes for Millie, some could even go to Thom and Charlotte, they wanted to build on their land...
Yes, it could do some good now.
John joined Arthur when he returned to the general store, buying some food and ammunition for himself while Arthur bought himself a new pair of gloves, and a new pair of trousers, coat, corset and a shirt for Ada. They sat on the hotel porch afterwards with their packages, saddlebags full of gold at their feet, watching the sun slowly go down and talking idly about the weather and what it might mean for each of their crops.
If us ten years ago could see us now, Arthur though, a smile pulling at his lips.
With the sun disappearing, the air became even colder and they headed inside to their rooms, agreeing to regroup in half an hour to make their way to the saloon. Arthur patted John on the back as he paused at his door, fishing his key out of his pocket, and Arthur continued on to his own. He listened for a moment to hear if the two women were talking, but there was just silence.
Quietly opening the door, he met Ada’s gaze, and found she was alone, again, though half of her hair was now tied back in a braid.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
Shutting the door, he was grateful that someone, most likely Sadie, had stoked the fire, the room warm without being overbearing.
“Where’s Sadie?” he asked as he placed the package on the chest of drawers and the saddlebag at the base of it.
“Gone to take a bath. I don’t know how she’s going to do it on her own but, well, that’s Sadie, isn’t it.” She smiled, twisting her wedding band around her finger as she watched him approach.
He nodded at her, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing his hand on the mattress on the other side of her legs. “She do your hair?”
“Yeah.” Her smile widened a little more as she ran her fingers over the lower half. “We both couldn’t sleep for long so we had to occupy ourselves somehow.”
“It’s pretty.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, watching her try to suppress her own.
“Thank you, Mr Morgan.”
It always amused him when, despite having murmured to her the most sensual, sinful things, a simple compliment made a pink tinge rise on her cheeks. Chuckling, he tilted his head, his fingers brushing against her thigh.
“I said to John we’d meet in half an hour. You wanna get changed now?” He said it gently, and she only paused for a moment, her fingers still twisting together.
“Sure. Into what, though, I don’t know.”
“Well, I bought you these...” Patting her thigh as he rose, Arthur moved to the chest of drawers and returned to his place with the package, placing it on his lap. Pulling the string that held it together away, he unwrapped the clothing and held them up for her.
She took the cream shirt and corset and grey trousers and brown coat, inspecting them as her smile returned and grew. “These are lovely, thank you.” 
“You’re welcome. You know I’d prefer you naked but I think that’d get us kicked out.”
She laughed, running her fingers over the material for a few moments, before she exhaled a breath and met his gaze.
“All right, let’s get this over with.”
He stood, not saying a word, and took the clothes from her, placing them at the foot of the bed. Pushing the blankets off of herself, he heard the long, quiet breath she inhaled. Turning back to her, he held his hands out. Ada glanced up at him as she placed her hands in his and used the grip to sit up. He watched her lips press together and the muscles in her jaw move, a sign her teeth were gritting, though she only made a faint sound as she slid her legs off the bed, setting her feet on the floor.
Their eyes locked again as they paused, and then, when she nodded, he gently pulled her up. She released another sound, a short, sharp hiss that made his chest tighten, but they didn’t stop. In fact, he didn’t stop pulling her until not only was she on her feet but in his arms. Wrapping them around her gently, he held her against him as she exhaled short, steadying breaths, her own arms going around him and gripping onto the back of his coat.
“You okay?” he murmured against her ear, and she nodded, blowing out another breath.
“Yeah. Just give me a minute.”
He held her up as she breathed and found her strength, thanking God that, even though she needed to lean against him, she wasn’t swaying or shaking. His fingers stroked at the base of her spine, cheek leaning against the top of her head. Finally, she pulled her head back and gave him a small smile, hands holding onto the sides of his coat.
“Well.”
“Well?” he prompted gently.
“Legs are a little stiff and I don’t think I’ll be able to move my torso that much, but fine.”
“Oh, only those two things, huh?” He arched an eyebrow which made her exhale a laugh, shrugging her shoulders.
“Yeah, just those two tiny things. Other than that, completely fine.”
“All righ’, I’d say you’re ready to run all the way home, then.”
She laughed, and he gazed down at her, patting her back lightly as he smiled.
“C’mon, then, let’s get this done.” 
He helped her out of the trousers first, pulling them down her legs, crouching and letting her grip his shoulder for balance as she lifted a leg at a time to allow him to tug them away over her feet. Then the new trousers went on, her legs lifting again, and he slid them up to her waist, buttoning them carefully before he helped her slip her feet into her boots.
Next was the removal of her torn and bloodied shirt and corset. He threw them into a corner before gliding his finger tips down her back, the gentle action making her arch slightly, her lips twitching.
“Concentrate, Mr Morgan...” she murmured as his fingers came up over her shoulders and down to her chest, hovering over her breasts.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The corset was soft and easy to tie, his chin resting on the top of her head as his hands secured it at her back. Helping her pull the shirt on one arm at a time, he adjusted the collar before buttoning it from the bottom up.
He glanced up at her every few moments, finding her eyes on him, and brushed his finger between her breasts before he finished buttoning up to her collarbones. Lastly, he helped her with the coat, smoothing down the collar.
“That all righ’?” he murmured, hands resting on her arms. “You comfortable?”
“Yeah, it’s perfect, thank you.” Her hands went to his chest, tracing over the buttons of his coat with a soft smile.
“You ready to go downstairs?”
“Sure.”
She pressed her lips together slightly, her smile faintly lingering. She was just as apprehensive as he was, he could tell, but they both knew if she did it, if she just went downstairs, crossed the street and had a meal, then they could go home.
He wished he could take away the pressure and the burden.
His hands moving up, he cupped her face, exhaling a breath as he gazed down at her.
“You can do it, darlin’. One step at a time.”
Ada nodded, leaning her head into his touch as one of his thumbs stroked across her cheek, smile gone. “One step at a time.” Licking her lips, she patted his coat, raising her eyebrows a little.
“Are you not gonna change?”
He shook his head as a corner of his mouth lifted. “Nah. No point if we’re goin’ home tomorrow.”
She stared at him.
He opened his mouth after a few moments of silence to speak when her hands went to his face and she drew his head down, capturing his lips in a firm kiss. He cupped the back of her head, returning it instantly as his eyes closed. His other went to her lower back, holding but not pressing her against him so he wouldn’t hurt her. She broke the kiss barely seconds later, but didn’t move, her eyes locking with his as they opened.
“I love you,” she said quietly, and his forehead rested gently against hers.
“I love you.”
Sniffing, she pressed another kiss to his lips before releasing him, visibly steeling herself.
“All right, let’s go.”
As she took his arm, he led her to the door, opening it and letting her step through first. He pocketed the key after locking it behind them, and he waited for her to move first, letting her lean on him as they moved down the corridor.
Arthur could feel how stiff she was, but she didn’t make a noise, didn’t complain. Upon reaching the stairs, though, his heart began to ache at her expression. 
She paused, staring down at them, and he could see her mind working, trying to figure out how best to do it. Clearing his throat, he took the first step down, holding out a hand to her. Her gaze shifted to him, and she smiled faintly. Taking his hand, she placed her other on the wall and stepped down. As they’d said, she took one step at a time, holding his hand tightly and wincing with every move.
“You all righ’?” he asked when she paused halfway down, blowing out a breath.
“Yeah, yeah... just a little sore.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she wanted to go back, but he already knew the answer.
After nearly a minute, she nodded and continued down. At the curve in the stairs that lay between her and the last four steps down, Arthur glanced to his left and saw the hotel owner, a kind smile on his lips.
“Here, ma’am...” He stepped forward, holding a hand out to her, and she accepted it with a gracious smile.
“Oh, thank you, that’s very kind.”
“It’s no trouble at all, ma’am. It’s mighty good to see you on your feet.”
Her smile lingered, though Arthur suspected it was to also hide her grimaces as she moved down the last couple of steps. Sweat was starting to shine on her brow and she already looked tired, the dark circles under her eyes so pronounced. This was a bad idea, he shouldn’t have let her do this—
Ada’s features lit up as she looked over Arthur’s shoulder, her hand falling from the hotel owner’s.
“Charles.”
He was about to look himself but she was already moving, her grip tightening on his hand, and he moved with her to the door, one hand on her back. She gripped the door handle and pulled it open, keeping a hold on it to steady herself as they gazed out. Charles was guiding his horse towards the post before the hotel porch, and at the sound of the door opening he looked up and smiled at them.
“Hey, you’re up.”
Ada’s smile was wide and hopeful as she stepped out onto the porch, her free hand moving to grip the doorframe, and she ignored his words.
“How are they, Charles?”
He dismounted and pulled the reins over his horse’s head, wrapping them around the post as looked up at them again. “They’re fine.”
The hand that was squeezing Arthur’s so tightly relaxed a little, and Arthur felt his shoulders do the same.
“Really?”
“Yeah. They didn’t seem to suspect anything.” Charles removed his gloves as he ascended the stairs, his smile returning. “I met Millie. She’s a lot like you, and you, Arthur. She’s very much your child.”
Ada’s voice cracked slightly as she asked, “She’s happy? She’s okay?”
“Yeah, she is.” Charles could see the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes as she exhaled, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “She misses you both, but she’s fine.”
Ada nodded several times as Arthur met his gaze and nodded his thanks, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“Thank you, Charles. Thank you so much,” Ada said quietly, and Charles squeezed her shoulder before dropping his hand.
“Anytime.” Looking them over, his eyebrows raising a little, he continued, “So, where are we goin’?”
Ada sniffed, smiling as she shrugged a shoulder. “Out to dinner, like regular folk.”
As Charles’s gaze dropped to where her wound was, Arthur cleared his throat. “Doc’ won’t let us go home unless she can get there and eat.”
“Ah.” The look he gave Arthur suggested they should have stayed put, and maybe in another time and place Arthur would have agreed with him at feeling Ada lean more heavily against him as time ticked by.
But, he just raised his eyebrows.
You try and tell this mother to get back upstairs.
Message received, Charles took in a breath, offering his arm to Ada as he turned.
“I’ll come, too, I’m starving.”
Arthur could have handed all his earthly possessions over to him right there and then. He caught Ada’s grateful smile to the man as she wrapped her hand around his arm, leaning some of her weight against him, and they moved together to the stairs. They helped her down, one at a time again, beads of sweat now sliding down her neck and pained sounds coming from the back of her throat as she gritted her teeth, but neither man said a word.
When she stepped down onto the muddy street, Arthur settled an arm around her waist to aid in keeping her torso as straight as possible. Thankfully no wagons or riders were coming down the street as they crossed it, so they could take their time, her steps small.
“Is Wallace watching?” she murmured.
“What?” Arthur asked gently, her words somewhat indecipherable due to her clenched jaw.
“Is Wallace watching from his office?”
Charles answered as he and Arthur glanced up with a quiet, "Yeah.”
And he was, gazing out of his window at them expressionlessly.
“Ooh, shit...” she sighed, her eyes on the ground.
Anyone and everyone could see she was in pain and, hell, Arthur was close to just sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her the rest of the way. Why the hell had Wallace ordered it? To deter her? To motivate her? Who was the winner here? No one, but maybe that was Wallace’s point.
It was the stairs up to the saloon that nearly undid it all. Arthur watched her stare at them, the wood illuminated by the warm lights that shone within.
“I don’t think I can do it,” she whispered in a voice so quiet both men were surprised they’d heard.
“You can, darlin’,” Arthur murmured, tucking a curl behind her ear. “This is the last thing, then you can sit down and we’re gonna have a real nice meal.”
Tears had returned to her eyes, perhaps from exhaustion, or frustration, or the unfairness of it all, or her desperate want to do it, most likely all four, and it broke his heart. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes and a few tears slipped out, sliding down her cheeks. Charles was patting her back gently which seemed to only be making it worse, her teeth sinking into her lower lip to stop it from trembling.
“Hey, what’s goin’ on?”
Charles and Arthur looked up to see John and Sadie approaching from the hotel, Sadie a little slower, her arm wrapped around her stomach, hand against her side.
Arthur opened his mouth, but Ada answered, her voice breaking again.
“I’m trying to get up the damn stairs.”
“Yeah, gettin’ up them hotel ones nearly killed me,” Sadie muttered as they joined them, though Sadie didn’t stop as John did.
Instead, she moved halfway up the stairs with a groan and a curse, hissing her breaths in and out. Turning, she arched an eyebrow.
“But they didn’t kill me. You can do it, lady.”
Ada stared up at her, the corners of her mouth turned down, tears shining on her cheeks, and Sadie tilted her head.
“You can do it.”
“C’mon, Ada. S’just a couple of steps, ain’t nothin’,” John chimed in, a warm smile on his lips when she looked to him.
Her gaze returned to the stairs, and Arthur held his breath as he rubbed her lower back.
Then, she nodded.
Tightening his hold around her, Charles on her other side now holding her arm and hand, they ascended a step at a time with her. She gave a heart-wrenching groan halfway up, her features twisting with pain, but she didn’t stop until they reached the top. When they did, she released an almost gasped breath, as if she had been holding it in, and Arthur pressed a kiss to her head as the others smiled widely and cheered her. She was smiling herself, her eyes closing for a few moments.
“All right, let’s carry on, I need to sit down.”
Sadie and John held the saloon doors open for them, and they all ignored the quietening of the establishment as they entered. Sadie cleared two men away from a table by a window to their right just by jerking her thumb behind her, their chairs swiftly scraping back as they scrambled out of them. Arthur and Charles helped to lower Ada into a chair carefully, her brow dipping. Once seated, though, and leaning back, she exhaled a heavy, relieved breath, looking up at them both gratefully. Arthur kissed her head again as Charles patted her hand, and they both took a seat beside her, John and Sadie already seated.
A woman with strawberry-blonde hair hurried over from the bar, smile wide as conversations around them resumed. There were only two meals available, a lamb or beef stew, and they all ordered which one they preferred, John also ordering a bottle of whisky for the table.
He sat back as the woman hurried away back to the bar, shaking his head as he looked between them all with a smile.
“Look at you three. Who’d’ve guessed you were bleedin’ out a day ago.”
Sadie snorted, her hands resting on her stomach. “Seems like God’s got a sense of humour.”
“That he does!” John laughed as the woman returned with the bottle on a tray and a glass for each of them.
They quietened as she distributed them and mumbled a, “Let me know if you need anythin’ else...” before she was scurrying away again. John uncorked the bottle and poured them all a couple of fingers of whisky, leaving himself until last.
“Yeah, look at us all, huh,” Sadie said, surprising them with her quietness as John placed the bottle on the table. “We all really made it.”
“Yeah, we did,” Charles answered with a smile, fingers wrapped around his glass.
A silence descended upon the table as they shared in a moment without fear, worry or grief, the only thought being what was happening right now and of each other. Despite all the noise around them, despite all that had passed, they were just now a group of friends who’d shared all the joys and griefs that life had to offer. Eyes shone as they looked at one another, Ada squeezing Charles’s arm as Sadie smiled at Arthur and John.
The latter raised his glass, clearing his throat. “How about a toast?”
They all did the same, and tried to find the right words.
It was Arthur who announced, “To good friends, and a good life.”
“Good friends and a good life,” they repeated instantly, firmly and quietly.
Raising their glasses a little higher, they then drank to it, eyes still shining with gratitude.
Setting their glasses down, Sadie spoke first, folding her arms and clearing her throat.
“So, Charles, Canada next, is it?”
He smiled as he nodded, leaning a forearm on the table. “I think so. I know some people up there who might take me in for a little while, and there’s some good work up there...”
They listened to him, smiling fondly even as their hearts ached at the inevitable moving on of life, and Arthur felt Ada’s hand find his, lacing their fingers together and squeezing it gently.
Another bottle of whisky was ordered before they’d even finished their meals.
They talked and laughed like, as Ada had described them, regular folk, which they gathered they were now. As regular as they could be, anyway. They reminisced on places they’d been and people they’d known, funny little stories of everyday things that came to them in the moment. John and Arthur and Ada traded stories about parenthood as Charles and Sadie smiled and chuckled, and there was more than a fair amount of teasing towards Sadie about Sheriff Dan. She just waved it off, glancing at Ada as she drank with a secretive smile. Another bottle was ordered, and talk turned again to the future. Charles was set on Canada and would probably depart as soon as he’d heard word from his friends, Sadie was unsure and happy about it, John just wanted to get home to his family, and so did Arthur and Ada. Most of all, they all just wanted to live their lives.
Arthur, at catching Ada barely being able to keep her eyes open, announced that perhaps it was time for bed. They all agreed, chairs scraping back loudly, drawing the attention of the citizens of Valentine again, who were, again, ignored. John paid for the meals and drinks, waving off their insistences that they would pay him back.
Perhaps he’d feel a bit differently in the morning when his head was a little clearer, Arthur thought with a smile as he watched him stumble slightly on his way to the doors.
He and Charles helped Ada out and down onto the street again, though she was so exhausted and pained that once they were in the hotel Arthur lifted her and carried her up the rest of the way. Her head leaned against his shoulder as he bade a quiet goodnight to them all, John just waving with bleary eyes as Charles helped him into his room, while Sadie blew Ada a kiss with a grin before she entered her own.
Ada smiled sleepily at the gesture, waving her fingers, before she was carried into the room and Arthur pushed the door shut with his boot.
“All righ’... Careful...” Arthur murmured to himself as he lay her down as gently as he could.
A grateful smile was on her lips as he pulled back, and he stroked her hair away from her face tenderly.
“You okay?”
“Tired,” she answered, though her smile lingered.
“All righ’, gimme a minute...”
He stoked the dwindling fire before kicking his boots off and removing his coat. Leaving them on the floor, he rolled his sleeves up as he approached the bed and carefully pulled off her own boots, placing them on the floor. He went to remove her coat when she shook her head.
“No, leave it. I don’t think I can move again.”
Nodding, he stroked her cheek before climbing in beside her with a groan. Wrapping his arms around her gently, he pressed a lingering kiss to her temple. She hummed quietly, her hands settling over his arm, listening to the crackling of the fire.
“You don’t think Sheriff Daniel’s boys... You don’t think he did us a favour, do you?” she murmured after several moments, her head turning towards him slightly, the idea obviously having been playing on her mind.
Arthur took in a long breath, thumb brushing against her coat. “I think he’s a smart man. And a decent one...”
“So, yes?”
He exhaled a laugh. “I don’t know why he did it, but, Christ, am I glad.”
“Mmh, me, too.” She turned her head a little more, her nose brushing against his jaw. “I love you,” she whispered, just as she would say goodnight.
“I love you, too,” he murmured, his hand rising to stroke over her hair. And he didn’t know if it was the whisky, despite only having had a glass, or maybe he just needed it out of his head, but after pausing he mumbled, “You scared me yesterday.”
She pressed her fingers into his skin, squeezing his arm gently. “I’m sorry—”
“No, no, no, don’t you apologise,” he swiftly cut in, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean... I just thought you were...”
He gazed down at her as her fingers brushed against his cheek, her smile tender.
“It’s okay, Arthur.”
He swallowed, stroking his fingers over her hair again. “I nearly lost you, and it was my fault—”
“Shh... No, it wasn’t.”
Her fingers settled over his lips, silencing him, and he just held her gaze, not knowing how someone could love a person so much. As her fingers fell away, the backs of them stroking along his jawline, he cleared his throat quietly.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Ada’s lips lifted a little. “Yeah, and no.”
“Hm, I feel the same.”
Her brow suddenly dipped, her hand cupping his cheek. “How are you? I haven’t asked you that, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be... I... I don’t really know.” He shrugged slightly. “I’m okay. I... y’know...” He sighed, playing with a lock of her hair. “... The night before we went up the mountain, John and I, we made a pact, that that would be the last time we do anythin’ of the sort. We just wanna be with our families now, put all that behind us.”
“Well,” she smiled softly, eyes heavy with exhaustion and love. “It shouldn’t be too hard to do that now. We’re really free.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “That we are.”
Licking her lips, she parted them, hesitating slightly. “Do you... Do you feel...”
He knew what she was trying to gently ask. His features softening, realising suddenly that it also must have been playing on her mind, he shook his head, his fingers splaying across her cheek and jaw.
“Nah, I don’t feel guilty or regret killin’ ‘im. I thought I would... I waited for it to come, but... nothin’. I always said revenge weren’t worth it, but... I didn’t do it out of revenge, I did it to protect you.”
Her jaw moved a little as she pressed her lips together, and he could see she was trying to stop the tears that were filling her eyes from falling. Lowering his head, he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to her lips.
Drawing back, he murmured, “You get some rest now, sweetheart.”
Watching her eyes close, long lashes resting against her cheeks, he stroked at her hair gently, soothingly, his own eyes not closing until he was sure she was asleep.
That sound of metal clanging against metal roused him, his legs stretching out slowly as he groaned.
Lifting a hand, he rubbed at his eyes with a yawn, trying to fight off the last remnants of sleep that were clinging to him. Running a hand through his hair, his arm then settled above his head on the pillow, his eyes opening. Tilting his head down, he found Ada still asleep, breaths soft and slow.
He watched her, not wanting to wake her yet. Yes, he was eager to get home, but he would absolutely not rush her. And who knew the toll last night’s excursion could have taken on her? A small voice in his head was yelling at him, telling him he should insist they stay so she could rest, Charles’s look when he’d returned coming back to him. But... he hadn’t been lying when he’d spoken to Wallace. She would recover more willingly at home, and the very last thing he wanted was for the dark, unshifting cloud of melancholy to descend.
Besides, Wallace wouldn’t really let them go if he didn’t deem it wise, and as long as he travelled slowly, cleaned her wound—
Shit, oh, fuck.
He’d completely forgotten to check the bandages last night. Pushing himself up, he pushed her coat apart and gripped her shirt, pulling it up as his breath caught in his throat... and then he exhaled.
There was some spots of blood, yes, but they were small.
“I hope that’s who I think it is, or my husband’s going to be very angry.”
Her light, sleepy tone startled him, his gaze darting up to her. She was looking at him, a smile on her lips. Dropping her shirt, he smoothed it down carefully, allowing a smile of his own to emerge.
“He sounds like the wrong sort to be with, ma’am.”
“Nah, he’s okay. A little grumpy but it grows on you.”
“Now I know I can tell the doc’ you’re better, that smart mouth has come back...”
She laughed huskily as he leaned down, pressing several, soft kisses to her lips, as her fingers tangled into his hair.
“You sleep okay?” he mumbled against her lips, his thumb stroking against her temple.
“Just fine. You?”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
He kissed her again, letting it linger before he pulled back, his hand resting against her waist. Her eyes were still tired, though they were a little brighter than yesterday, and she seemed brighter in general.
“You wanna get somethin’ to eat?”
She shook her head, raising her eyebrows slightly as she smiled. “Can we just go home?”
He desperately wanted to say yes as swiftly as he could, but Wallace’s words and Charles’s expression were still ruminating in the back of his mind.
“We’ll see if the other’s are up, then we gotta see the doc’... then yeah.”
Her smile widened, her fingers grazing down his neck, and he willed with all the might he had left in him for Wallace to allow them to leave. He kissed her once more, whether to reassure her or himself he didn’t know, and then he climbed off the bed, clapping his hands together.
“All righ’, let’s get outta here.”
They were out of the room in minutes. Having unpacked nothing and she being already dressed, all he had to do was help her with her boots before pulling his own on and his coat, and then help her get to her feet. She was stiffer but she rose quickly, gripping onto his biceps as she blew out a long breath.
“Okay?” he murmured after almost a minute, and received a nod in reply.
She leaned on his arm as they crossed the room and headed out, the saddlebag of Blackwater money over his other shoulder, shutting the door behind them. Moving down the hallway, they paused at John’s door, Arthur rapping his knuckles against it.
There was the sound of faint groaning, boards creaking, and then it was being pulled open, a rather bedraggled John Marston appearing, rubbing at his eyes.
“Well, good mornin’, sunshine,” Arthur greeted cheerfully, a somewhat delighted smile tugging at his lips. “You okay there?”
“Awh, shuddup...” John croaked, raking his hair back from his face. “What’s goin’ on?”
“We’re gonna go see the doc’ now, then if he says we can we’ll be headin’ home.”
John perked up slightly at that, his eyebrows raising. “Really? Shit, all righ’, I’ll change, see where Sadie ‘nd Charles are.”
“Okay, see you downstairs. Get yourself together, you look a mess.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah...” John muttered as Arthur’s smile widened. Looking to Ada, he gave as good a smile as he could. “Mornin’, Ada. You okay?”
“Morning, John,” she smiled, her tone full of affection. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Good, good. Well, I’ll see ya down there.”
“All right, John, be careful.”
“Yeah, yeah...”
Arthur met her gaze as John closed the door with another groan, their smiles matching. Shaking his head, he led her down the rest of the hallway to the stairs. She got down okay, awkwardly and rigidly, gripping at his arm tightly, but a little better than the previous day. The hotel owner was behind his counter once again, smiling warmly. Did he ever sleep?
Charles had bought the rooms for a few days so they had no need to pay, and the owner promised he’d reimburse Charles when he saw him, if they left.
“I hope it’s good news for you,” he called as they headed out the door, and Arthur was once again reminded of why they didn’t live near a town.
Why the hell is everybody so interested in everybody else’s business.
“There it is, ma’am, your chariot,” he announced as they stepped onto the porch, nodding his head at the wagon below.
He hadn’t pointed it out to her yesterday, knowing, as she’d painfully crossed the street, that it would have been of little interest. Now, though, she gazed at it with pure delight.
“Oh, it’s perfect! Do we own it?”
“That we do. A nice little keepsake from our journey.”
She laughed, though the sound quickly morphed into a groan. “Stop making me laugh, it hurts every time.”
“Well, that’s your fault for marryin’ a funny man.”
“Oh, he’s funny all right.”
He side-eyed her, joy spreading through him at seeing her grin.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, c’mon, let’s just get you across the street.”
There were only the two steps up to the office, thankfully, and he knocked on the door before opening it, letting her pass through first.
“Doc’?”
Wallace’s head appeared around the door leading to the back, and at seeing them he stepped in, closing a notebook in his hands. “Arthur, Ada.”
“Doctor Wallace,” Ada greeted, smiling lightly, though Arthur could feel her grip on his arm tightening.
“How are you feeling today, Ada?”
“Fine. Sore, stiff, but fine.”
“Well,” Wallace said as he approached, placing his notebook down on a display table. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”
Arthur placed an arm around her back, his thumb stroking against her side gently, as Wallace lifted her shirt and inspected the bandages.
“A little bleeding, but not enough to be of concern...” Unwrapping the bandages, he placed them by his notebook before stooping to get a better look at the wound. “... Yes, there is also quite an amount of bruising, this area will be very sore and tender for a while...” Ada inhaled a quiet hiss as Wallace lightly touched his fingers around the area.“... The stitches have held, though, and your body seems to be taking its natural course in healing itself.” He then stood, his lips pressing together as he looked between them. “... As a result, I will allow you to return to your home.”
A wide smile spread across both their lips as they stared at him, talking over each other.
“Really? We can?”
“Thank you so much, Doc’—”
They paused as Wallace raised a hand.
“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll provide you with some tonics for the swelling and pain, they won’t taste very nice, and, Arthur, do you have the bottle I left with you yesterday, to clean the wound?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, I’ll give you another.” He gestured at her torso. “I’ll clean this for you now and bandage it, of which I’ll give you some more of, too.”
“Thank you, Doctor Wallace, thank you so much,” Ada grinned, but Wallace had already walked away, heading into his back room.
Lifting her gaze, she met Arthur’s and he pressed a firm kiss to her temple, his hand rubbing her arm.
“We’re going home,” she whispered, and he smiled into her hair, closing his eyes.
Thank God... Thank God...
When he returned, Wallace made swift work of cleaning the wound and bandaging it up. Tying it neatly, he arched an eyebrow as he fixed his gaze on her.
“Now, Ada, please be careful. Once you’re home, rest. I’ll write to Emerald Ranch in a few days to see how you are. I look forward to your reply, and that of the doctor who resides there.”
Ada startled him slightly by reaching out and gripping his arm, her smile having not vanished. “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you very much.”
Inclining his head, Wallace patted her hand quickly. “You’re welcome.” Clearing his throat as her hand left him, he picked up a roll of bandages and two bottles from the table. “Take these and use them, please.”
“I will, I promise.” She took them one at a time and slipped them into her coat pocket, while Arthur cleared his throat.
“Here, Doc’.”
Out of the saddlebag he pulled a gold bar, and offered it to the man.
Wallace’s eyes widened. “Sir, this is too—”
“Please,” Arthur cut him off, holding it out a little further. “Take it.”
The doctor was silent, staring at him, and then he reached out and took it, holding it between his hands like it would shatter at any moment. Clearing his throat, he nodded at them. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.” 
Extending his hand to him, a corner of his mouth lifted as Wallace accepted it, shaking firmly.
Raising his eyebrows as he slid the bar into his pocket, Wallace released his hand. “Well, I hope neither of you take this the wrong way, but I hope I never see you again.”
Arthur’s lips lifted higher as Ada exhaled a laugh.
“You, too, Doctor.”
“Well, take care now.” Inclining his head again, he moved behind them to the door and held it open a little wider, giving them a small smile.
They gave another, grateful thanks, and then he was closing the door behind them. Standing on the porch, Arthur heard her take in a long breath. Gazing down at her, he patted her arm and exhaled.
“Well... Let’s head home, huh?”
“Yes, please,” she grinned, just simply unable to contain it.
Moving down the steps, they saw John leaning against the wagon, rubbing at his forehead with a yawn, and Sadie and Charles sat on the porch. Noka and Titan were beside it; John or Charles had probably brought them over from wherever they were. They were standing idly, tails swishing—
“Arthur!”
Their heads turned at the call as they stopped, Ada’s fingertips pressing firmly into his coat for a moment, before their eyes fell on Sheriff Daniel, watching him approach, his hand raised. Falling, it went to his belt, holding onto it.
“Hey.” The easy, warm smile was on his face, and they returned it.
“Good morning, Sheriff,” Ada replied, and Arthur felt her lean some more of her weight against him, starting to tire already.
“Good mornin’ to you both. Headin’ home?”
“Yep, Doc’ just gave us the word now.”
Daniel looked genuinely delighted at Arthur’s answer. “I’m mighty pleased to hear it. I can escort you outta town if you like?”
“Nah, that’s kind of you but we’ll be okay.”
“All right, well, you have a safe journey home now.”
He offered his hand and Arthur took it, shaking it just as firmly and sincerely as he had Wallace’s.
“Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
Daniel just smiled. “My pleasure.”
Tipping his hat at Ada with a quiet, “Ma’am,” he then continued on down the street, heading down towards the stables.
Arthur noticed Ada smiling at Sadie as they headed on towards them, Sadie just rolling her eyes.
Well, I ain’t got the time nor energy to get into that.
“Are we free?” Sadie asked drily, though they all knew Wallace would never bother telling her what to do now.
“Yeah, we’re headin’ home.”
Arthur chuckled as John whooped and Charles clapped his hands together as he stood, Sadie also getting to her feet with a muttered, “Thank the Lord...”
“Hell yeah, we are!” John laughed, slapping his hand against the wagon. As if the action reminded him, he stepped back suddenly and gestured at it. “Hey, look, we’ve sorted this out for ya, made it a little more comfortable...”
Ada and Arthur followed him around to the back of it, and she reached out and patted his arm as she grinned at the sight of it. They’d put blankets in the back, along with a few cushions so she could sit up a little, and Ada beamed at them all.
“Oh, look at this! Thank you, all of you, for this, it’s really...” Clearing her throat, she took in a breath, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “I... I, uhm...”
All their smiles seemed to fade a little as they realised what was coming next, John bowing his head slightly as he scuffed his boot against the ground.
“Well...” She gave a faint, brief smile, her hand sliding into Arthur’s. “... I don’t quite want to leave you all now.”
“We’ll see each other real soon,” John said quietly, meeting her gaze.
“If there’s a weddin’, we wanna be there,” Arthur said, a corner of his mouth lifting.
John chuckled, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, hell, we’ll see if there even is one.”
“Oh, there will be, she’ll be there waitin’ for you...”
As Sadie and Charles came down the steps, Arthur moved towards John, embracing him tightly.
“She’ll be there,” he repeated, as John patted him on the back.
“I hope so,” he murmured, pulling back with a faint smile.
Tears pricked at Ada’s eyes as Charles approached her, a gentle smile on his lips.
“Charles, I...” She couldn’t finish, and he just nodded, pulling her into his arms. Closing her eyes, tears dripped down her cheeks as she hugged him, holding onto him for support, and just to hold him.
“I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, rubbing her back as she nodded.
Arthur turned from John to Sadie who was leaning against the wagon. Tipping her hat at him, she smiled.
“See you around, Morgan.”
“And you, Mrs Adler,” he smiled widely, nodding.
As Charles and Ada pulled away from one another, sharing a smile, he lifted his head and looked to Arthur. While they embraced, Arthur thanking him quietly once more, Ada blew out a breath with a smile as she met Sadie’s gaze. Tears were still falling down her cheeks and Sadie returned the smile as she stepped closer, shaking her head.
“C’mon, now, I’ll see you at the weddin’.”
“John’s, or yours and Sheriff Daniel’s?”
Tutting, Sadie pulled her in for the tightest hug yet. “Shut up, you.”
Ada laughed thickly, the sound hiding a sob, her chin on her shoulder, eyes closed. “I love you, Sadie Adler.”
Sadie leaned her head against hers, her smile lingering. “I love you, too, lady.”
None of them quite wanted to leave each other.
Ada and Sadie stood with their arms around each other as Arthur, Charles and John attached the wagon to Titan, the permanently calm horse unbothered. When they finally released each other, Sadie took Ada’s hand and squeezed it gently before letting it go. Ada was wiping the tears from her cheeks when John brushed his hands together, stepping back from Titan, and turned to her.
She shouldn’t have bothered wiping the tears away.
They came thick and fast again as he held her, neither saying a word. When he pulled back, he helped her into the wagon, lifting her to sit on the edge as she winced. 
“You look after yourself now,” he said as he released her, and all she could do was nod a few times, sniffing.
Arthur ran a hand through his hair as he came round to the back of the wagon after checking Titan was secured, releasing a breath. Ada reached out to him, sniffing again, and he took her hand, looking at their three friends.
“Well, you all get home safe.”
They nodded, and no one moved.
Arthur looked between them all, keeping a tight hold on Ada’s hand. John was wiping at the corner of his eye swiftly as he cleared his throat, Charles was gazing at them, and Sadie had her hands in her pockets, her eyes on the ground.
“I just wanna...” He knew this wasn’t the last goodbye, but if the past few days, hell, the past few years, had showed anything, it was that if you had something important to say then you said it. “... I just wanna tell you all how much you mean to me, how glad I am to call you my friends, and how thankful I am to you.”
John looked away, his hands on his hips, and Arthur could just imagine what he was thinking.
You bastard...
He could feel himself getting choked up, too, so he just nodded, and looked to Ada as she squeezed his hand. Her cheeks were wet but she was smiling; happy.
“Well...” Arthur said again, looking back to them. “We’d best be on our way.”
“Yeah, sure,” Sadie said in the same moment John nodded silently and Charles murmured, “Farewell.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Arthur took both of Ada’s hands, helping to lower her down onto the blankets. She gave a quiet groan as she grimaced, but once she was settled, she shifted back so her legs wouldn’t dangle, and he let go of her hands.
The three of them stayed where they were as Arthur moved to the front and climbed up, taking a seat and gathering the reins. Feeling them in his hands, he paused, both desperate to leave and not wanting to go at all. Turning in his seat, he looked back at them.
A corner of his mouth lifted as he gazed at them, his chest aching. He looked to John last, and it was only when the younger man gave a smile that he nodded his final goodbye, for now, and softly called for Titan to walk on.
The wagon gave a slight lurch as Titan advanced, but then it evened out, Arthur keeping the horse to a walk. Glancing over his shoulder again, he watched John, Charles and Sadie wave back at Ada, his wife’s arm raised high. He had to force himself to look away, whistling so Noka would follow and steering Titan up the street and then, finally, around the corner. 
He heard Ada release a half-sob, half-breath and turned his head to quietly call down to her, “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, just...”
“I know.”
He felt such a sadness within him, too, but... yes, they would see each other again. As often as they could, he’d make sure of it.
After riding over the train track, there was a short hill to climb just outside of Valentine and a small decline, but then, like he’d told Wallace, it was just straight, flat roads.
They were both quiet as they took the paths home, and he suspected she was sleeping, perhaps just to make time move faster. He was impatient himself but he didn’t dare urge Titan faster than the pace he was now. 
It was a dry day that became warmer the further they travelled, and soon he was having to remove his coat and roll his sleeves up, his hat keeping the sun from his eyes. He stopped once, jumping down to check on her before he gave Titan and Noka some water to drink out of a tin cup from his bag. She was still asleep, and he wasn’t surprised; the real recovery would be starting now.
Arthur nodded at other travellers they passed, though they were few and far between. He was grateful for the quiet, and he managed to not think about all that had transpired, knowing there was time for that later, and that if he started now he wouldn’t be able to stop. Instead, he watched the birds in the sky and the critters that scurried across the path before him until patchy, dusty grass turned to lush green fields. 
As they rolled past the O’Brien’s farm, his heart started to beat a little faster. He took the path around Emerald Ranch, not wanting to be waylaid by any of the farmhands or Nathaniel and Martha. Of course, they’d talk to them later, maybe tomorrow or the day after, but right now there was only one person he wanted to see.
When Newfield’s Rest came into view, he could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage. Driving under the archway, his gaze darted from the paddock to the house.
There was no one to be seen, just the animals grazing quietly.
He pulled the wagon to a halt halfway down the path to the house and stood, dropping the reins onto the seat.
“Hey! Anyone home?”
Jumping down, he brushed his hands against his trousers, looking at the windows and seeing no movement. Licking his lips, he took a step back, and then another, intending to move to the back of the wagon.
And then the door was yanked open and a little, grinning face appeared.
“Papa!”
God have mercy on him, tears instantly stung at his eyes as he laughed, watching Millie Morgan barrel towards him.
“Is that my little angel?!”
He grabbed her once she was close enough, lifting her into his arms and into the tightest hug he could give.
“You’re home!” she cried, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck.
Drawing his head back to gaze at her, he smoothed her unruly hair back from her face with a wide smile. “Hello, darlin’.”
“I missed you and I made a new stick hut for my doll and I wanted to show you it but Chester knocked it over but that’s okay I can make a new one and then I can show you that one.”
He just gazed at her as she rambled on, nodding his head every few moments. “Yeah, yeah, you sure can, angel. I’ll even help you make it—”
“Where’s Ada?”
Raising his head, Arthur found Thomas O’Driscoll stood on the porch, expressionless, eyes darting from him to the wagon. 
Ah, shit, here we go...
Licking his lips again, Arthur turned his body slightly and placed Millie on the ground, even as she made a reluctant sound.
“She’s just—”
“Here.”
Both men looked to the voice, and saw Ada, a hand pressed against the wagon, moving towards them. Her voice had shaken a little and Arthur couldn’t tell if it was from weariness or her tears.
They rolled down her cheeks like a stream as Millie gasped and beamed.
“Mama!”
“Oh, my darling...” It must have pained her considerably, but she dropped to her knees and welcomed her daughter into her arms as the little girl ran towards her, her eyes closing tightly.
“I missed you, Mama!”
Arthur watched her features crumble, her hand stroking her hair. “I missed you, too, darling, I missed you so much.”
“I didn’t eat all your chocolate, I promise!”
“G-Good, that’s very good, thank you.”
She was trying so hard to suppress her sobs, and, after wiping at his eyes, Arthur moved towards them. With an arm around her back and a hand on her arm, he helped her up, hoping the hiss she released would just be interpreted as a strange sob. 
Glancing up at Thom, he knew it hadn’t been.
His brother-in-law stared at him, his stillness a stark contrast to Charlotte who was beaming at his side, her raised hands clasped together.
“Welcome home!” she called warmly, and lifted her skirts slightly to move down the steps towards them.
Arthur looked away from Thom, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach, and met Charlotte’s gaze, smiling at her.
“It’s good to see you,” he murmured as she kissed his cheek, his hands remaining on Ada to keep her up.
“And you! Come on in, I’ll make you both some tea, you must be exhausted.” 
Charlotte was a smart woman so he knew she was ignoring, for now, both the obvious state of Ada and her husband’s reaction. Moving past Thom and entering the house, she didn’t say a word to him, just patted his arm, maybe even squeezed it pointedly, and disappeared inside.
Arthur didn’t bother to see if Thom followed her in, looking away and smiling the moment Millie pulled her head back and beamed at him. He shifted closer to them, allowing Ada the opportunity to lean against him as she kept a tight hold on Millie, and for his other arm to wrap around both of them. Ada’s head rested against his shoulder, gazing at their daughter as she rubbed her back gently.
“Can we have cake?” Millie asked, wonderfully oblivious to all that was happening.
“Of course we can, as much as you want.” Arthur ruffled her hair lightly, making her giggle, and his heart soared.
As Millie rambled on about all the different cakes they had and exactly what order she wanted them in, Arthur turned his head and pressed a lingering kiss to the top of Ada’s head. His fingers stroked against her side, and she released a long, soft breath.
They were home.
——————
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darthkvznblogs · 4 years ago
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Saiyan Creation Myth
WARNING: This is meant as background info to my MCU-based AU, as seen in “You and Me, and the Woman that is We”. I’ve never watched Dragon Ball or its spin-off/sequel series, and this bears little to no resemblance to the divine hierarchy found in canon. (Really, I was just disappointed to do research for the fic and find little to no information on what Saiyan mythology might be like.)
I hope you enjoy!
“In the beginning, there was only the Void. Then, Infinite Shenron tore a hole through the Void, in his endless voyage through the multiverse. The wounded Void fought back, but the immortal serpent ignored the attacks, though they tore scales, whiskers, and hair from its body.”
“Mortally wounded, the Void pooled its power, in a desperate final attempt to eradicate the serpent. The attack was successful, obliterating the dragon’s body, but immortal as it was, it merely continued onward as a spirit. The Void perished, as new life emerged from the serpent’s remains.
From the dragon’s skull, the gods splintered. From the rendered flesh, limitless matter. And from the dragon’s blood, boundless energy. Shin, First of the Kai, gave order to it all. From Shenron’s glittering scales, she made stars. From Shenron’s bones, she made planets. From Shenron’s heart, she made the Other World. From Shenron’s veins, she made pathways between it all.
Chronoa grew bored of the beautiful but static universe, growing to titanic size and kicking it into motion, starting the passage of time. At first, Shin was angered, but as time changed her Creation in ways she never envisioned, she judged it good and allowed time to flow.
Many of the other gods followed her example, taking the rest of Shenron’s flesh and sculpting mortals to populate Shin’s Creation. For a time, all was peaceful. But the gods grew jealous of each other’s little mortals, and they pitted them against one another. And when one species proved victorious, the god who’d lost would eradicate them. So it went until all was lost.
Saddened, Shin asked Chronoa to restart the passage of time, and Chronoa obeyed. But events played out the same way, over and over. Six times, the gods’ petty conflicts resulted in oblivion.
On the seventh try, Shin decided on a failsafe. She tasked Beerus with irreparably obliterating the universe should the war between the gods happen again. She entrusted Whis with staying Beerus’ hand until she deemed the universe unsalvageable. And she warned the gods of what would happen, should their conflict arise again.
Even with the warning, the gods prepared for the same old war. But before they could get started, one among them decided to let mortals choose their own fate. Oozaru, Father of the Saiyajin, unleashed his wrath on his fellow, unsuspecting gods, and slew them all, one by one, staining his crimson fur with their golden blood. Every Kai fell to the Great Ape, save for Shin, Beerus, Whis, and Chronoa – the only gods who hadn’t spawned mortals of their own. His bloodlust sated, Golden Oozaru issued a challenge to his people: prove their might against the other races on their own merits, or fade into obscurity. Become as gods, or die trying. He took away their massive size, and gave them humanoid bodies, that they might only regain their Great Ape forms once the challenge was overcome. With that, Golden Oozaru shed his divine form, and vanished among the bereft Saiyajin.
Sobered by the massacre of their divine siblings, the surviving gods sought to discover the cause of this madness. No sooner had Oozaru disappeared, did the culprit appear – the consciousness of the Void itself had, in the chaos of Creation, possessed one of the Kai. The corrupted Kai, named Zamasu, had whispered in the other gods’ ears, in every iteration, and turned them on each other, hoping to return the universe to emptiness. Oozaru having ruined his usual plans, however, he vowed to eradicate the universe himself.
With Zamasu’s identity discovered, Shin asked Chronoa to reverse time until the moment immediately after Oozaru’s disappearance, and bound Zamasu to the role of God of Death – he could take mortal lives, yes, but only when their time came, as dictated by Chronoa. Robbed of his freedom, Zamasu was forced to serve Shin for eternity – or until the gods judge the universe wanting...”
If you enjoyed, consider checking out “You and Me, and the Woman that is We”, a fic based in the “There Was Once an Avenger from Krypton” series that follows Caulifla and Kale accidentally fusing into a fourteen-foot tall, four-armed woman and trying to unfuse before the other realizes the extent of their crush on them.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24630583
And the series itself:
https://archiveofourown.org/series/1316201
I also have a Ko-fi! If you have a coffee’s worth of cash to spare, please consider checking it out at: https://ko-fi.com/darthkvzn
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zafaria · 5 years ago
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Mortal Toil
At first, there was darkness, and so it would end that way too.
Bartleby sang the First World into its glorious and fiery existence, with piercing hail plummeting through the sky and blue lightning connecting with the ripe earth. It was made with overwhelming brightness, a field of halo-light from a yellow sun. It was balanced by chaos and ever-rupturing molten fissures, tempestuous and sinister clouds, rapid gusts with cold that tore through skin down to bone.
Like all things created, it was imperfect and after some age and wear, the World’s flaws began to show with the years. From the inside out, it cracked and eroded. There were some beings on the world already, and they too weakened. Warring clans roamed the lands. Gnarled tree roots reached up to the sky for salvation. Above all, three Titans fought and won and lost and destroyed.
Seeing the mistakes and the tyrants, the Grandfather Tree closed his eyes, saddened to let go of his first work. He sighed heavily, reaching his gentle branches out to one of each of his children.
"I will take you into the new world, just you,“ he would say. They would grow fearful of the prophecy and babble to the others of their kind about the uncertain future of their world and their people. Many times, they were met with wide eyes, and then dismissive waving a few moments later. It wouldn’t matter if they were believed. Nothing could be done anyways.
And so, sadly, Bartleby said goodbye to his original concept, a wistful and distant blue in his dull eyes. He would sing the song of creation again, and create a new masterpiece. He loved so dearly the old world though, he ripped pieces from its canvas as neatly as he could and propelled them into a new existence.
He grew old quickly, and the marble brickwork of a school sprung up around him. Elsewhere in the fragments, the surviving children toiled to rebuild their empires. They were determined to appease Bartleby and his sister, proving to them their worth and obtaining everlasting salvation from the soft hum of the reversive tune. "You cannot destroy us, your children!” they would say. “Look at what we have built to honor you!”
Bartleby forgot his children when his eye was plucked from his furrowed bark. He forgot his original work, and why he had made the new world. With a single glassy eye, he gazed out over the stone towers and small people bustling between them. He did not understand, and did not try to; he was finally exhausted. He was an artist who needed a long rest after finishing his magnum opus.
Sister Raven was not so at ease. She looked over this new world and saw what Bartleby didn’t. She identified the same corruption and betrayal from the First World. It was not limited to the Titans though. They were all put to bed, slumbering destroyers waiting for a rattle to wake up. The factions were now in the children. Traitors transcended races and kinship; where there seemed to be unified groups of all kinds of beings, there was another group of diverse beings split against them over other matters, light and dark. Where new alliances were forged, hostile minds were merged and new enemies absorbed into groups’ lists of hatred.
Nightstar thought a long time over these issues. A persistent commotion, it was not unique to either world. The chaos percolated into all of life, before or after schism, an ever-present entity of existence.
An ever-present entity. There was only one other ever-present entity. Where the Raven created wisdom and light, and Bartleby created generosity and prosperity, Grandfather Spider created discord and uncertainty. It was his existence that allowed the transmission of chaos between worlds. And so, it was time to amend that, and create the Final World, with its absence of chaos and preponderance of certainty. A completely foreseen, predictable land.
Perhaps before Raven had these inclinations, the children sensed them. They formed their measly committees drawing from all corners of the universe, plucking their select magicians from this floating rock and then the next. They sat around in dusty rooms, dozens in concentric circles. They talked of important things and fearful things with their stern faces and unwavering jaws. Only after the meetings in the silence of their apartments did they look out over the world for what it was. They would see the dancing fuzzy grass in the wind, or the twinkle of distant nebulae against the prussian blue sky. Even the fiery hearth of the most cracked and fissured world proudly wore rust-colored opal towers hinting at past grandness and long history. Maybe their jaw would tighten a little and their nostrils would flare. They inhaled suddenly as a tear slipped out of their eye. They saw the world, and it was beautiful. They saw their home.
It was their duty, though, to expedite the unchangeable future. Some of the children always saw the end of the Second World as ushering in a restoration of the First World. In truth, the recreation could’ve been in any manner, taking one of an infinite number of forms. Where some people saw the end of the Second World drawn out to its last possible breath, the final world would be some idyllic paradise where the sun always shined and the trees never wilted. Others saw the same basics of that legendary First World restored. It would be tribal, maybe, but it would be what it was always meant to. The Second World was just a sloppy edition. The First World really was the best possible design.
And aside from any of these, Raven saw something very different. The final world would be colorless. It would be engulfed in so much light and righteousness, everything would be blinding white. In the unbelievable luminescence, where nothing disrupted the brightness, there would be perfection. There would be no beings with their forms to block the radiance, and there would be no shadows cast behind them.
The Second World existed in its wounded state for only a fraction of the time that the First World did. It was a long and drawn out dying. Over the many ages, plots rose and fell between the little factions, and Raven would look down on the small lives, taking the chaos as further evidence it was time to restart. Here and there, a short vanguard would approach. They’d ask “why” or “how”. They’d jump between the worlds connecting artifacts, talking to divines and near-divines, and try to delay the fate of the rotting universe. After some time, they met their glorious unfortunate end. The task would always be left incomplete, passed down to a new hand. Raven would watch the last duels, the dark retirement cottages, the bustling taverns. When each one passed, she yawned and turned her gaze elsewhere.
There was one bug that released Grandfather Spider. Menial, but a pest. They complicated things but not irreversibly so for Raven’s plan. Indeed, Raven found that more than anything, it was a signal that it was finally time to finish the job. She placed her puppets in locations around the lands, ready to aid the hero in destroying the Spider, ending the chaos, and then the world. By the time the little being wizened up, Raven’s allies had grown strong enough to finish their work without the wizard’s help. Somewhere on one of the many floating rocks, there was a fine duel circle and a drawn-out cautious jaunt between Raven and Spider. And then Spider collapsed, but not before pulling back his hood and revealing his eight wide eyes and hapless smile. He waved his staff and in the same instant he was gone, the world faded away too.
The beings all ended mid-breath and then were crushed and absolved. The universe no longer breathed or built or wept or rumbled. It was a void, and there was no light, not even Raven’s. Time was violently ripped from space. Where there was time, it was flat. Where there was space, it was static.
And there was no life, or obelisks, or stardust. There was simply nothing.
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sweebat · 5 years ago
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It was known for its unique environment.
The entire planet was shrouded in a rosy tint. The skies were eternally pinkish hue with the sun glowing with blue and black, golden swirling clouds and flickering stars lit up the ceiling. The terrain consisted of vast red barianite forests, shimmering as the light from the sun reflected off of the minerals. Each barianite tree towered high into the skies with some of the tallest standing a hundred foot tall. The oceans consisted of an acid that sizzled any organic matter that came into contact with it, although it damaged its own resilient shoreline more often as waves of acid constantly crashed into cliffs and coves.
Yet the planet lacked real trees and a real ocean. It had no plants, or vertebrates, or invertebrates, fungi, bacteria. It could provide so little.
Despite this and soon after its discovery by intergalactic forces, it quickly became the target of trade, primarily for the richness of its natural resources.
Barianite was a unique mineral found only on the red planet. It was discovered to be strong and versatile substance with incredible resistance to solar exposure. Its over-abundance turned it into highly-valued commodity worth millions in its weight. In no time, aliens from across the galaxies rushed to the small planet to harvest the barianite for personal or commercial use.
But this world was also known more for its unique inhabitants—a species of inorganic creatures whose existence defied the laws of science. Instead of flesh and bones, a beating heart that pumped blood through their veins, or a desire to ingest to grow, the species known as barians were creatures of stone. Their bodies were made of thick rock that could crack and chip and crumble, yet they could replace it as easily as a race of organics can.
They grew slowly and steadily, taking their time to gather solar energy using solar panels located along their bodies, where they send it the core of their bodies—their heart, if one wanted a more organic comparison. Their heart, a roundish mass covered of spikes, was located at the center of their bodies, and from it protrude an array of so-called veins used to aid in locomotion and form. As their most important and most delicate of organs—minimal damage to the core can severely incapacitate a barian—barians cover themselves in a layer of rock and minerals grown from the magma of their planet. Their so-called skin can range from the greens of olivine to the rainbow range of quartz, and more variations in blues and purples and pinks if they so wished. Their appearance is varied with no two barians being identical, and their size range from the length of a quarter at hatchling to looming titans at millenniums old. Some had mandibles to crush boulders in the way, others were nothing but a lumpy mass that occasionally moved. Most were unorthodox, appearing more as awkward shapes with beady eyes and a tentacle or two, and a few antennas protruding from wherever there was room than a biped or quadruped or any of the hundreds of species out there, varied yet maintaining some semblance of sentience. To any sane person, they were as hideous as they were thoughtless.
Despite this tough exterior and brutish appearance, barians were a docile race. They lacked natural predators in their world, and they could live indefinitely, never fearing death by age or by receiving damage to their core. The environment and personal mishaps were their predators. Many spent their time resting on the hills or basking in the sun or transversing the untouched terrain to find a good place to grow. Limited space meant their greatest competition came from one another, but this proved to be less an issue due to the unlikelihood of spawning.
They were severely abundant nonetheless. They lived in scores and groups, socializing with each other, if not living in complete solitaire. They originally knew little of violence and only quarrel for a good place to bask.
The presence of the barians did little to stop the invasion. Despite their unique liveliness, barians behaved like a non-sentient species. They did not use words to communicate—they spoke with body languages, or by flickering their prongs like insects—and they met the invaders with indifference, preferring to rest and bask than to interact. To the newcomers, the planet might’ve well been uninhabited.
The barians were a nuisance, however. The large ones—towering by fifty foot and more—often laid in pathways, or tore up buildings and roads as they tread through their territory. They often destroy equipment; it was never on purpose, simply that they needed to get somewhere and the heavy and often expensive equipment happened to be in their path.
And their digging. Barians dig underground to shed their old rocky shell, and then they use the magma to acquire a new shell. A majority of their energy is devoted to this elaborate molting process, yet to harvesters, it can ruin days of work. In order to harvest a barianite tree, one had to chop down the entire structure before digging up the stump underneath. Many of the trees grew meters deep, worth a fortune if they abandoned it. The process of uprooting the barianite was long and tedious, and with a digging barian who could destroy equipment, rebury the stump, or simply rest within the hole, the process could take longer.
After years of leaving the creatures be, serious barian-culling began. Their rocky shell protected could only protect them for so long before their attackers realized blunt force was enough to crack them, exposing their fatal flaw. Pierced through their life-line, a drill or a knife could kill them instantly. Culling became the norm, and soon specialized equipment was made to speed up the process. A single pull of a trigger will dismantle a barian in seconds, and with their docile nature, the barians were helpless against the slaughter.
Since they couldn’t bleed. Since they couldn’t scream in response to instances of possible pain—it was debated that they even feel pain. Since they don’t look natural, being made of rock instead of flesh. And they were undeniably pests in the presence of a blooming enterprise. Hundreds of crushed and punctured cores laid scattered in fields where barianite trees once stood.
Barians were pests after all. They were no different than a cockroach infestation.
Until they weren’t.
Eventually it was discovered that the core of a barian consisted of energy that could be harvested and used. Decades, centuries, millenniums of solar energy compressed into a ball the size of a fist. With that sort of energy, a single barian core can supply a large city with power for decades. And for the time, barians were as versatile and abundant as barianite.
With that discovery of these specialized equipment, slaughter of the barians turned from incidental to intentional. Within a few years, millions upon millions of barians were slaughtered for their valuable core.
The death of so many barians led to a plethora of consequences. The planet needed its barians to maintain a healthy ecosystem. As odd as it may sound, barianite behaved like a parasite to the barians; although, it was mutualistic in in its relationship. Barianite, like barians, were inorganic and crystalline, yet with exposure to the constant stream of energy below ground—courtesy of the molting barians—the crystals were able to react, expand, and grow like trees. The natural process of digging also dispersed ‘seeds'—or broken pieces of barianite—throughout the land. Meanwhile the barianite held the ground together to provide an acid-free plane and shelter for the barians to live.
Without the presence of the barians, the land will suffer. Without the barianite, the barians will suffer.
And without the barians, with the slaughter of over ninety percent of population, the land began to decompose. Slowly at first. Years of relentless waves eroded the coastlines; buildings near the shores were evacuated as the sea level rose by a meter or so. The changing coastlines also led to more aggressive weather patterns. Frequency of acid rain increased from biannually in a certain sector to once every week, leading to a dramatic deterioration of the continents and weakening of the dying barianite trees, as well as destruction of equipment and buildings that weren’t adapted to handle consistent downpours. Barianite, without their hosts, began to weaken and crumble as well. Towers spanning fifty to a hundred foot tall would crack under the assault of acid and anthropogenic activities, posing as a safety hazard to workers and tourists alike. The atmosphere grew thick with gaseous products from the dissolving barianite, leading to soaring temperatures that worsened the weather system. This positive feedback created a wildly hostile environment that even barians struggled to survive in.
The hostility of the planet forced many to abandon it entirely, leaving it as an empty, crumbling husk devoid of nearly all life. Those that chose to stay could only manage for so long before the intense climate forced them to evacuate or perish in their stubbornness. It took only a handful of years before it was virtually unlivable, with constant rain and high temperatures and a landscape that could collapse with even the weakest earthquake.
A unique planet with unique lifeforms, functional by itself for billions of years with a minimum species of so-called life… and within a few centuries, the ecosystem crashed into the ground.
Although the planet was deemed inhabitable even to barians, the last of the survivors said that remaining titans wander and arose from the grounds and from the oceans in the wake of the dying planet. Being as they were so large, the acid and heat couldn’t tear through their shell nor harm them.
And although abandoned and left to rot, an occasionally probe would be sent into the atmosphere and ground-level, although it never lasted for long. Testing for signs of livable conditions, or decreased temperatures, or any hints that further resource mining could continue. Tracks of the largest barians were always a sign that life continued on the planet, no matter how minimal, from imprints in the mud to the occasional footage of a shadowy figure in the distance, eyes bright and looming menacingly.
The most peculiar anomalies seem to involve these mysterious titans, unseen of during the centuries of mining and harvesting. They were much larger than regular titans, spanning upward to five hundred feet and over. Their large size contributed to constant terraforming of the dead ecosystems, as they trampled on weak barianite trees, removing the hazards of them toppling over and harming inhabitants, or even affect the weather in small areas. Some had the ability to draw acid clouds away from the area, creating habitable environments for growing barianites and barians alike. 
Probes found that sectors with increased titan activities have higher densities of regular barians and barianite, but the relationship was too new to declare anything conclusive between them. 
As it remains, the Barian Planet is hostile and unable to support an abundance of life like it previously had.
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mydisenchantedeulogy · 6 years ago
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End Game [Chapter Four] Flip of a Coin [Levi Ackerman]
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“Honesty … that’s all I want; the truth. Each one of you lied to me, and I have the right to know why.” Camilla was fuming, barely able to keep herself still. Her leg bounced like a float on top of the water as she waited for a reply, looking between the powers that be.
A week’s time had passed since she talked with Yeager; a week it took for Erwin to return, bringing with him a handful of new recruits. Taking everything Camilla had to keep calm and not blow up at Hange – who stood in charge – she wasted her time, holed up in the castle library. Her effort had been pointless, and the more she stewed in her anger, the more furious she had become.
A week I waited, and none of them have a damn thing to say. Her finger tapped irritably on top of the table. “Don’t everyone speak at once,” she growled.
Erwin was the first to speak, clearing his throat before he did so. “I made the decision to keep certain information from you until I was sure we’d have the manpower to proceed.” His expression was calm and collected, but his icy eyes were full of irritation. “Also … I understand you are upset, but raising your voice won’t reduce the tension you are feeling. Ask your questions, but please remember that we have no obligation to answer them.”
Very well. Camilla took a deep breath, releasing it quickly a minute later. This didn’t make her feel much better, but he was right. Had she continued to argue, Erwin would have been unable to explain. She knew how difficult she could be when she was angry – Levi termed her a brat. Ask only what you need to. Taking another breath, she gave Erwin a kindly expression. “Please … why am I here?”
“To save humanity,” Erwin stated. She almost knew he’d say this. But, he surprised her by elaborating. “Hange is on to something; Eren is the key to everything we’ve been searching for. Imagine being able to finally understand what the Dolls are and how the Titan strain came to be. You out of everyone should appreciate the relevance of this.”
She did; Camilla wanted nothing more than to save the lives of everyone within the walls. Getting back onto the field was another story. She wasn’t ready. Too many people had been lost on her dream; too many sacrifices she wasn’t ready to burden. “Erwin I do, but not like this. I don’t even know what you’re getting me into. Selling me this same pitch isn’t going to change my opinion.” She didn’t want back out there, beyond the walls – plain and simple.
“Show her the papers, Erwin. Settling with her isn’t going to work,” Levi interrupted.
What papers? The curious woman tore her brief gaze away from her husband and watched as Erwin slid her a stack of hand written papers. Before she even began to read them, she took notice of the names scrawled at the bottom of the first page. The MP commander, Nile Dok was one of them – her recent senior officer. Erwin was another, and the last belonged to the man who directed the three branches, Darius Zackly. Her heart sped up a bit. This can’t be good, if he’s involved. Camilla read over the papers, aware that the others were waiting for her.
What she made out didn’t sit agreeably with her. This can’t be true. Camilla shook her head in annoyance and slumped back in her chair, trying to process everything she read.
Levi was next to speak. “I asked Erwin to reinstate you and that imbecile in the interior signed you over without so much as a fight. All he needed was a signature from Zackly and once Erwin explained the situation, he got it. Give yourself a slap on the back, you’re a scout again.”
“It was the only way,” Hange followed up. She gently smiled, but knowing Camilla, the woman was not happy.
The irritated woman bit her tongue, attempting to keep her anger in check. She stared at the papers with uninterest. “So what then? You got me back. What do you expect of me, Commander?”
“Take back your position as Captain of the Medical Team; that’s what I expect. There will be a brief period between now and the time of the next expedition, where Levi and Mike will be training the new recruits. Take that time to get to know your team – organize them into units. They will know about you before the end of the day,” Erwin explained.
Camilla bobbed in agreement. “It might do me some good to have a combat refresher, if you intend for me to return to the field.” There was nothing she could do about it. She was stuck, and instead of going out there rusty, Camilla would rather have a few sessions under her belt.
“Hange can help you settle.” With a nod from the Squad Leader, Erwin set his attention back on Camilla. “Feel free to ask questions, if you have any. This will be the last time we meet before the expedition.”
I don’t count on them to answer me, considering the fact they lied to me just recently, but I have to see. Thinking over her options, Camilla realized that she had a few issues she’d like to shine a light on. “It’s come to my attention that Eren can regenerate. The bite on his hand is nothing more than a scar now. Can you elaborate how that’s even possible?”
Hange shook her head. “We have no clue, actually. His body is almost like that of Dolls; it can heal at rapid speed. The first time we even noticed it, was after his trial. Levi knocked a tooth out of his mouth and later on a new tooth grew in it’s place – it was so cool. I assumed that he could easily do it again, but we’ve had a few set backs since then. One of them being that he can’t become a Flesh Doll again, no matter the situation.” She whined loudly, squirming in her seat. “I want to see it.”
“He … turned again. When did this happen?” Camilla was eager to hear. The report hadn’t mentioned this. She thought it was impossible, given that Eren was already immune. But maybe he isn’t. Not completely sure, Camilla felt irritated with herself. All this is too much to understand.
“It happened in Trost, before we arrived.” Erwin didn’t know much about it, apart from what Dot Pixis had told him. “Eren once again turned into a Doll – unstable at first – and helped clear out the district as Garrison soldiers patched the breach in Wall Rose. He hasn’t been able to do it since, like Hange said, but we are doing out best to figure out why.”
“The best part,” Hange added. “Is that Eren is capable of rational thought while he’s a Doll. He took orders, and once we figure out how to do it again, he can help us take back Wall Maria.”
“If the brat can do it again,” Levi grunted.
Camilla missed his comment, stuck in her own thoughts. She understood the reasoning behind the experiments, and the idea that Eren could be an asset. However, too much was riding on him. Even if he could become a Doll, there was no guarantee that he could stay one for long. I’m thinking too much into all this. I just want to find a cure, nothing more. She sighed gently, accepting her role. “Shiganshina – you’re riding on this. Yet it’s a long way from here. I saw the chart and put it together; only one base has been set up, but if you’re sure we can do this … I’m with you.”
Hange cheered loudly. “This is going to be like old times again.” She bounced happily in her seat – Camilla smiled.
A big hand on her shoulder brought her attention over to Erwin, who just until now Camilla realized was standing, beaming at her. “Trust us. I will have a uniform delivered to Levi’s room. Until then, I hope you will take this time to relax, get back into the swing of how we do things around here.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sure my training will go smoothly.” Frankly, she wasn’t sure it would. Camilla was determined to make the best out of it, however.
Erwin bobbed his head. “Good to hear.” Ending the meeting, he excused himself and left the room.
Camilla did the same, but hastily. She went to Levi’s room, needing to grab a fresh set of clothing from her travel case, but it wasn’t where she had last placed it; near the wash stand, out of his way. Searching the room for it, she came up short handed. Her obsessive husband must have recently cleaned up and put it away. Therefore she checked the wardrobe. Inside was her case, but her clothes were missing. Camilla let out a growl of annoyance. With no other option, she slumped down onto the loveseat and waited for Levi to return.
The minute he did – what felt like hours to Camilla – she crossed her arms and watched him lock the door, then move over to his desk without so much as a look. She huffed a sigh, knowing she’d have to start the conversation if she wanted to freshen up. “I can’t find my clothes. Did you put them somewhere?”
“I had a team member of mine take them to be washed,” he answered, curling his nose in disgust. “They stank like shit and was making my room dirty.”
Camilla felt her face heat up. “Levi … my underwear was in that case.”
“Petra took them; she’s a woman too. Nothing you have she hasn’t seen.” His eyes narrowed at her. Levi wasn’t dumb enough to let just anyone wash her clothing. The thought of another man touching her underclothes made him feel sick.
That girl who follows him around like a pup? Camilla rolled her eyes. Of course he’d ask her to. He could have asked Hange to do them, someone I trust. The resentment was back. It felt strange for her to feel so upset at another woman, especially one she barely knew. Yet, she couldn’t help it. The feeling was new, but natural to her. She pushed it aside for now. “I need a change of clothes, or else you’re going to be smelling a lot more of me.”
Again Levi curled his nose is disgust. “There are shirts in the wardrobe and underwear in the dresser. Put on my clothes until someone brings you a uniform.”
Silently she did as told. Camilla was in no position to argue. She put on a single colored button down and briefs that left nothing to the imagination. Her short husband was not the least bit fashionable and being an inch taller than him she found his clothing to be uncomfortable. This will have to do, regrettably. Camilla gathered her dirty clothes and shut the wardrobe doors with a loud click. “Anyplace you want me to put these?”
“Loveseat; folded neatly.” I’ll be damned if I let her turn this room into a pigsty after I cleaned it. The thought made Levi feel unwell, however once Camilla ambled over to the bottom of the bed and turned her back to him, folding her clothes, he couldn’t help but to stare; recent thought lost. Full, tan legs were exposed to him. Feeling uncomfortable and a bit embarrassed, Levi shut his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose hard. He was sexually frustrated, no reason to deny it.
His wife’s gentle sigh helped compose him, bringing his attention back to her. She was slumped down on the loveseat, lap covered with a throw blanket he laid out for her since she refused to take his bed – not like Levi used it himself. In truth, Camilla hadn’t been in the room much since her first night; she took up residence in the library. He found out from Hange that she had been staying there only to give him space, in addition to being upset with him. Levi understood, but it was his obligation to follow orders and as much as he wanted to tell her the truth, she was not someone who easily accepted fact over feeling. Frankly, it grated his nerves. Levi agreed that space was easier for them, but it made small talk uncomfortable after that. Mainly because he never knew what to say.
However, to his relief, Camilla was also someone who couldn’t tolerate silence for very long. She chuckled to herself and met his fixed gaze. “I was generally surprised to see how far you’d go to bring me back, trapping me like you did. But … had you just come to me in the first place … I think maybe I would have willing followed you. Guess I shouldn’t have hoped for something I knew wouldn’t happen.” Levi could visibly see the tears in her soft eyes. She’s an emotional brat. Is probably the most unwavering woman I know when it comes to her aspiration, but her moods are like the flip of a coin; always changing. Again, he didn’t know what to say and let her continue.
“Like it or not, I am mad at you; Hange and Erwin too, but I realize now why you all did it. There is no future inside these walls. Knowing what I do there would be no easy life for me, nervous and afraid. What I want to sa–”
“Don’t,” Levi interrupted. “You will come to regret it, saying it now. Focus on surviving first; save humanity, prove me wrong. I honestly don’t care either way, as long as you don’t disappoint yourself.” Later, if you should feel like thanking me, then do, but know that you will be content with the outcome.
Camilla gently smiled, wiping away the tears from the corner of her eyes. “No regrets … right?”
“Not even an iota of shit given,” Levi stated. It’s hard, but it also makes living in this hell a lot easier to bear.
By lunch the following afternoon, Camilla was set up with a clean, hot-pressed uniform and knee high boots – annoying straps included. Wearing yet another button down from Levi’s wardrobe, she went to the mess hall for some food, having nothing else to do. I am supposed to be training, but Hange can’t pull her nose out of Eren’s butt long enough to help me, she retold herself. What am I to do? Hiding in her room was beginning to bore her, and while Levi was a source of companionship, he wasn’t exactly the most enjoyable person to hold a conversation with. Get out of the room, he says. Stop being a lazy brat. Camilla rolled her eyes up. She was certain Erwin told her to relax; the level of stress that man brought her.
With a groan, she walked into the mess hall, surprised to see that it wasn’t loaded down with soldiers. A few were situated here and there, but not as she had expected. Levi wasn’t amongst them, but neither was his team; probably still out on the field. Camilla recalled him saying that he was knee deep in new recruits, having to baby sit them while Mike was busy – she didn’t ask why. Grabbing a tray, the cadet in the kitchen greeted her and filled up a bowl with freshly cooked potato soup. Camilla took it with a nod and went to sit at a bench near the door, ready to revel in the silence of the near vacant mess hall. But, the moment she took a seat, another group enclosed her.
“Captain,” a bright eyed woman spoke, balancing her tray as she went into a salute. The others imitated her, Camilla noted. “I apologize for interrupting your lunch, but we were hoping to join you. Is it alright if we sit down?”
Camilla felt her skin heat up, but nodded regardless of her sudden embarrassment. She watched as each of them sat; one at both her sides and two across the table. Spotting the insignia around their right arm – a red cross – she gathered that they were all members of her team. Better now then never, I guess. Most awkward greeting I’ve ever been given. She huffed a sigh.
“I’m Michella Henderson,” the one who sat on her right said while a smile. She was the same hazel eyed woman who greeted Camilla a moment ago. “Your second in command … it’s a long story.”
A man with spiky black hair laughed, shoving a spoon full of soup into his mouth. “We have time, unless you’re too ashamed to tell her.”
Michella visibly tensed up. “She doesn’t want to hear that, so not a word. Also, I am your senior officer, so you’d best toe the line. And … you’re being rude to our new Captain. We came over here to introduce ourselves, or have you forgotten?”
Raising a curious brow, Camilla looked between the two, opting to not raise the issue. She very well could, but seeing as it wasn’t her business she kept quiet. At any rate, she was enjoying the way Michella dealt with him. It was obvious to Camilla that her team was close; he spoke to Michella like she was someone he trusted, despite the woman’s inability to be stern. Meeting his eyes, the male blushed and dropped his shoulders.
“Please overlook my rudeness. My name is Brendon Tremaine. It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”
“No harm done,” Camilla admitted. “But lets bury the hatchet. Unless it’s relevant to this meeting, then I don’t need to know.”
Michella shook her head and smiled. “No ma’am. It’s not.”
“Very well. Carry on.” The Captain glanced at the nervous looking teen beside Brendon, who until now was staring at her bowl with uncertainty.
Once she noticed her Captain was looking, she quickly saluted again. Fresh out of the Training Corps, she was afraid that she had upset the senior officer. “Cadet Katrin Felde, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Did Keith Shadis train you?”
Katrin bobbed in agreement. “Yes, ma’am. Ludo and I graduated together.”
The male sitting to the left of Camilla raised his hand to call attention to himself. He wasn’t as timid, but a sense of alarm could be seen in his icy eyes. “I’m Ludo … Ludo Bergt.” He felt appreciated when his Captain nodded in acknowledgement.
“He’s a good man; very intimidating though.” Camilla had to suppress a laugh. Keith didn’t oversee her training, but for twelve years he was her Commander. She hated to admit it, but he scared her.
Clearing her throat, Camilla added respectfully, “I appreciate you all coming over to meet me; it’s a pleasure. I wasn’t going to do introductions until mass tomorrow, considering the number of members in the unit, but it would be rude of me not. My name is Camilla Ackerman and I am going to your new Captain, starting tomorrow.”
Brendon nearly choked on his soup. “Ackerman … like the SO leader?”
“I’m his wife. And no, I’m not as impolite, but I do expect your best while you’re on my squad. Friendships are important, but beyond the walls I insist that we keep focused. There are a lot of people depending on us to watch their backs.” Switching off the boss persona, Camilla laughed and picked up her spoon. “With that aside, let’s eat before our soup gets cold.” Everyone followed suit.
“I’ll second that,” Brendon stated, swallowing down the rest of the broth.
Michella rolled her eyes. “I swear. One of these days you’re going to choke. Take it easy.”
Almost like her words held some power over him, Brendon sputtered, coughing as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, burning his throat. Katrin rubbed his back while he choked, asking Ludo to grab some linens and clean up the mess. This brought a smile to Camilla, who tried not to laugh. She was fond of them, something honestly she didn’t want to feel. It was too soon; too late to change her mind. She let herself laugh along with Michella, until someone urgently shouted her name.
Moblit sprinted up the Captain’s table, not really sure what had transpired before he came barging into the mess hall, but with no time to ask, he saluted and motioned for her to get up, aware that he was being disrespectful to her. “Please … follow me. Eren is in trouble.” He wanted to quickly get back to his own Squad Leader before she did something to endanger herself. Fortunately, Camilla was quick to act. She barked orders to her team, even as she followed him, bringing with her the Vice and a cadet with blue eyes.
Following Moblit to the yard where she had met Eren the previous week, Camilla saw a small number of soldiers off to the side. Some of them were in shock; others had their weapons drawn, but all of them were focused on something further ahead. Aside from a thick fog, the curious woman couldn’t see anything.
Yet, she heard it; rattled shouting. Noises that got louder the further she progressed.
“Captain Ackerman … what do you think happened?” Ludo was staring at her with fear in his eyes.
Camilla didn’t know how to answer. She wasn’t sure herself. It seemed like a steam pipe had busted and engulfed the field with tendrils of white smoke, but she knew that couldn’t be the fact. “Stay alert. An explanation would be nice though.”
“It’s hard to say, Captain. You should probably just see for yourself.” Thinking his explanation would not ease her worry, Moblit escorted Camilla to the source. His Squad Leader was still there, trying to test the new data she collected. Moblit rolled his eyes, hoping to convince her to move aside, before she got reckless. “Squad Leader, I brought Captain Ackerman.”
Hange turned and leaped with a shout. “There you are. Look at it. Isn’t it amazing, Camilla.” She pointed at the teen behind her, but Camilla was already staring in awe at what she saw.
In some way, Eren had shifted into a Flesh Doll.
Just his right arm, in fact. Luckily the smoke had thinned out so Camilla could see. She noticed Levi in front of the teen, guarding him from the others – his team mostly. Each of the SO unit had drawn their weapons and surrounded Eren, who was on his knees, clawing at the steaming flesh of his arm. He looked frightened and in so much pain.
“Eren … darling. Are you in control?” Camilla moved forward and stood beside Levi. She cautiously bent to her knees and inched as close to Eren as the steam would allow her to. Her skin was hot and began to sweat, but she remained near him.
“Not yet,” he answered with a groan.
Camilla panted. The heat was exhausting her. She tried to usher him along. “Focus; you can do it. I heard about the incident in Trost, but I know you learned from it. You won’t go wild, because you can switch it on and off.”
Making an effort, Eren tried to recall the words that Armin said him that day. Without him, it was hazy, but he could vaguely remember the promise they made. He focused on this, and for a moment, the pain resided. But just as quickly it returned. A swift, burning throb ripped through him, making Eren cry out in pain. It was nothing like the first time it had happened.
Until now, the infection was not visible. But in a matter of seconds it had spread up the length of Eren’s arm, reaching out like tiny, dark tendrils. Camilla saw and grimaced.
“You need to give me better results, Eren. There’s no time for this.” The woman couldn’t restrain her impatience. She glanced back and noticed that Petra was closer, ready to cut the teen down if he so much as bared his teeth at them. Biting her tongue between her teeth, she felt the gravity of the situation weigh down on her. Eren was as good as dead if she couldn’t talk him through it. Camilla tried a more forward approach, reaching out to lay a hand on his cheek. “Listen to me. You’re nervous, I know. Me too … my hands are shaking, but I do trust you. Show me that you trust me too.”
Eren widened his eyes in alarm. She was indeed shaking; he could feel it. No doubt, she had faith in him. He leaned his face into her palm and shut his eyes tight. It hurts … everything hurts. But I have to try. So much is riding on me to do this. The strength in him faded and he let himself tumble over into her sweat drenched arms.
“Captain,” Michella cried. She regretted not wearing her gear. “Please move away from him.”
“It’s fine; I’m fine.” Levi has me. She glanced over Eren’s head and noticed the blade pressed against his neck. Her possessive husband was glaring at the teen as if to dare him into taking a chunk out of her. Camilla knew Eren would be dead before he could open his mouth, and curled her arm around his back to assure him that it was merely the way Levi was. She curbed her need to smile and glanced down behind Eren to were his infected arm rested, noticing that it was back to normal.
Levi noticed it too and removed his blade. “Consider yourself lucky. You get to keep your head.” He grabbed the collar of Eren’s short, beige coat and removed him from the arms of his reckless wife, tossing him onto his back.
“Not too rough, shorty. He’s still capable of shifting back into a Doll until his injuries are healed,” Hange mentioned, a bit disappointed to see his arm restore itself before she got the chance to test it.
If he doesn’t want to lose that arm he won’t. Levi rolled his eyes and put away his blade, keeping his hand on the hilt just in case.
“That was extreme. You didn’t need to knock the wind out of him,” Camilla furthered. She stood with a grunt and dusted off her white pants.
Levi grunted, “Extreme … you and I need to have a word.” He shot a look at Eren, who had been watching the exchange with tired eyes. “You’re done for the day. Head back to your room.”
“Let me send one of my own with him. I need to have someone look him over,” Camilla suggested. She grinned as Levi agreed, waving over Michella. The brown haired woman did as ordered – a relief to the Captain – and helped Eren up, staggering back to the castle. She was proud of her, even though she witnessed Eren almost turn into a Doll and attack them.
However, that feeling was short lived as Levi softly grabbed her jaw and brought her attention back to him, directing her head to the side as he looked her over. Once he was content, he shot her a look of annoyance. “Cautious is the word you meant to say. Reckless … is what you were being.”
“It worked out,” Camilla said with a sigh. “But yeah … reckless … I know.” She puckered her brow. Her feeling was simply that – a feeling. She honestly didn’t think it would calm Eren down, but somehow it did. Maybe a trigger word. I’m not sure. Again she huffed a sigh, looking away from Levi’s harsh stare. “I wasn’t using my head. Would you … have honestly done it differently?”
“I would have cut him down,” Levi responded blatantly. He pulled her gaze back to him, narrowing his eyes. “He’d be missing a head if he had changed and harmed you.”
Visibly a blush warmed her face, and before she could reply, Levi continued. His fingers gripped her jaw firmer. “But … I went with my gut and watched you risk your life on that brat. It pissed me off, so before you jeopardize the mission again, try to remember that I’m a selfish man. I will shut this shit down before I let you go.”
I love you. Camilla bobbed her head, covering her eyes with his wrist. Fresh, warm tears leaked down her face.
Levi remained silent and let her cry.
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kmp78 · 7 years ago
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FINLAND 1 - 0 - 0 🇫🇮
A QUICK COMPILATION OF ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW - AND WISH YOU NEVER DID.
1. You may call us Finland and Finns, but we call ourselves Suomi and suomalaiset.
2. Altho if you don´t mind, we would rather you did not call us anything ever. Actually if we could both pretend each other doesn´t even exist, that would be just great!
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3. Yes we are a notoriously shy and reserved nation with a gigantic inferiority complex - especially when compared to our neighbor Sweden.
4. Who incidentally we loooooove beating in hockey.
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5. Saimaannorppa aka Saimaa ringed seal can only be found in Finland and is highly endangered.
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According to a count done in 2015, there are only about 320 individuals left, and therefore quite understandably whenever one is found dead in a fisherman´s net or by the hands of a poacher etc., it causes headlines and outrages.
6. 70% of Finland is made up of forests - that´s roughly the size of the entire area of the United Kingdom.
7. Finland was awarded the Summer Olympics for 1940, but then things got all sorts of fucked up thanks to Adolf & co., so those plans were scrapped even tho we had a brand-spanking new Olympic stadium and everything! Dammit!
Oh well, we were compensated in 1952 when we finally got the honor of hosting our only (so far) Olympic games.
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8. Those 1952 Olympics were the first time Coca Cola was introduced to Finns.
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9. No, we do not have polar bears.
10. We also don´t have KFC, Wendy´s or Dunkin´ Donuts.
11. Yes I am very upset about all those things mentioned above but especially about KFC.
12. Finland was the first country in Europe which gave women the right to vote (1906).
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13. The Finnish language does not separate words such as “she” or “he”. We just use a gender-neutral “hän”, which means “that person”.
14. The national bird of Finland is the whooper swan.
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15. Helsinki has the world´s most Northern metro system.
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16. Savonlinna hosts their annual Opera Festival in a Medieval castle.
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17. We are vindictive and petty as HELL. Just ask Silvio Berlusconi.
http://kmp78.tumblr.com/post/155861218049/finland-chronicles-part-14
18. A Finnish person will drink approximately 129 litres of milk a year.
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19. Some years ago, the word for mother (”äiti”) was voted the most beautiful word in the Finnish language.
20. Moomins are, as some of you MAY REMEMBER FROM A SPECIFIC DEBACLE FROM EARLIER THIS YEAR, from Finland and were created by OUR Miss Tove Jansson.
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21. Unlike many other countries which after gaining independence tore down all statues and other remnants of their history under foreign rule, in Finland we chose to keep ours up as reminders of our past.
For example, on our main square aka the Senate Square you will find Czar Alexander II standing proudly.
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22. And speaking of statues, one of the landmarks of Helsinki is Havis Amanda.
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It depicts a mermaid who decides to leave the sea and walk on... well, not water.
Each year on April 30th, she is “crowned” with a cap, to represent all those who have graduated from secondary school and earned their caps.
23. As of 2010, internet access has been a legal right in Finland.
24. Do you have one of those cupboard things over your kitchen sink, the kind where you place your dishes to dry?
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That was invented by a Finnish woman called Maiju Gebhard in 1945.
25. The longest word in the Finnish language is “epäjärjestelmällistyttämä­ttömyydelläänsäkäänköhän”, which loosely translates to “not even by her lack of organization, do you suppose”.
26. Angry Birds are from here.
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27. Finland is also the birth place of the most successful ski jump champions of all time, Matti Nykänen.
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28. After his sports career came to an end, Matti has been a permanent fixture in the tabloids with his... issues... involving alcohol abuse, domestic abuse (he even served time in prison for attempting to kill one of his many ex-wives) and an assortment of careers including stripping and now singing. 
He is also responsible for one of our most beloved and useful quotes of all time: back in the 80s when he was still jumping from towers and competing in Canada, he got into some “situations” and was sent back home as punishment. When he arrived at the airport, a journo asked him “Matti, did you drink alcohol?”, to which Matti replied “Maybe I did drink, maybe I didn´t drink”.
All bases covered then!
The man is a fucking genius.
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29. There are absolutely ZERO public payphones anywhere in Finland.
30. For a very short period of time back in, Finland had a female president AND a  female Prime Minister. 
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Sadly that arrangement came to an abrupt end when the Prime Minister was forced to resign over a scandal involving some sort of Iraq documents which I´m still, a decade later, completely baffled by.
31. As those who come on this blog surely know by now, Yours Truly is a passionate berry picker - and being a berry nut in Finland is easy indeed since a) we have one of the cleanest natures in the world and b) all living things you find in nature, you can keep - within reason, of course.
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Usually a good principle is to keep about 100 meters distance from the nearest house. Other than that, you´re good to go!
32. People in in Northern Finland aka Lapland area have a very specific unit of measurement called the “poronkusema” which could be loosely translated to “Reindeer´s piss”. Roughly it means the distance a reindeer can walk before needing to urinate. It´s quite a long distance...
33. Our current President Sauli Niinistö is a survivor of the tragic tsunami which took place in South-East Asia on Dec 26, 2004. Over 200 000 people (including almost 200 Finnish tourists) died in one of the worst natural disasters of our time - Mr. Niinistö and his sons saved their own lives by climbing up a telephone pole and staying there for several hours.
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34. In Finland October 13th is National Failure Day which aims to encourage people to share their failures and learn from them rather than hide their heads in shame and pretend all is well.
35. The REAL Santa Claus lives up in Rovaniemi and you can visit his village all year long.
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36. Sheldon gave us a good laugh and an ego boost.
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37. We like eating Rudolf with lingonberries and mash.
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38. On some years we get A LOT of snow, but on others we get practically none. Back in 1997, in Lapland the snow reached up to 190 cm.
Incidentally I am 155 cm.
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39. In the Finnish language there is an alphabet called Å which isn´t actually a part of a single Finnish word in the entire Finnish language - it is simply a remnant from our many centuries spent under Swedish rule.
40. Unesco has reported that Finland´s tap water is the cleanest in the world.
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41. A handy Finnish saying: “Early bird catches the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese”.
42. For some God forsaken reason, Finland and Estonia have the same national anthem.
43. Sadly accurate these days.
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44. Sadly accurate these days.
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45. Rosina Heikel (1842 - 1929) was Finland´s and in fact the Nordic countries 1st female doctor.
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46. When something is a failure/a dud, the common term in the English language is “a lemon”. Over here, it´s “susi”. Susi also means wolf.
47. And susi should not be confused with sisu! 
48. In Lapland you can spend your vacation in an igloo.
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49. Fines for speeding are determined by the offender´s income. Basically if you earn more, you have to pay more. The highest fines have been over 100 000 €. Stay poor, kids!
50. Pamela Anderson´s grandparents were from Finland.
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51. Yes we like getting our drinks on, and most of us go abroad to Tallinn to get our drinks on for a lot less €s.
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52. In Lapland, the Sun never rises from November to January.
53. In reverse, the Sun never sets from June to July. We call it “The Nightless night”.
54. Finland has exactly 1 Eurovision victory under its belt.
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55. In 2018 Saara Aalto will be repping us.
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Please vote for us. Please?
56. Nokia became famous for their mobile phones, but originally they manufactured rubber boots.
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57. We don´t dub movies or TV shows.
58. We do however sometimes give them ridiculous and extremely SPOILER ALERT-y names. For example, “The Shawshank Redemption” was translated to “Rita Hayworth - Key to escape”.
I mean... C´MOOOOON!
59. Sometimes that´s all you can do.
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60. Simo Häyhä aka “White Death” was one of the deadliest snipers of all time. During a 3 month stretch of the Winter War, he shot roughly 200 Russian soldiers before getting shot in the face himself. He survived and lived to be 96.
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61. We don´t use the 1 and 2 cent coins. You CAN try paying with them as they of course are legal currency, but there are no guarantees you´ll get very far.
62. Feb 14th may be a day for lovers for the rest of the world, but we know it as “Friend´s Day”.
63. Tipping is not (thankfully) a part of the Finnish culture.
64. The guy longing for Sven in Titanic (the coat dude) was portrayed as a Swede, but was actually a Finn called Jari Kinnunen.
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65. Karelian pies with egg butter are the best thing ever.
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66. Märket island which is situated between Finland and Sweden had to have the border lines twisted a bit because the Finns who built that lighthouse, accidentally built it on the wrong side...
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67. While often named as one of the 5 Scandinavian countries, Finland isn´t technically even a part of Scandinavia: we ARE however a part of the Nordic countries.
68. If you are invited to a Finnish sauna, you are expected to go nude.
69. Finnish armed forces are mandatory for men but voluntary for women.
70. Moomin mugs are peculiarly popular especially among Asian tourists. They can sometimes pay even thousands for rare ones.
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71. We never had vikings, but there is one viking tale about a princess called Skjalv, daughter of the Finnish King Froste (those aren´t even Finnish names...), who was stolen as war loot to Sweden but ended up strangling her captor with a gold chain. 
72. Our 4th president was Kyösti Kallio, who was forced to resign from office after the Winter War on December 19th 1940. On that same day he was about to step onto a train to take him back home for retirement, when during his final official ceremony at Helsinki Railway Station, in front of his soldiers and while the orchestra played, he suffered a fatal heart attack and died right there in front of everyone. Legend says he collapsed into the arms of our greatest war hero and later president himself, Marshall C.G.E. Mannerheim (seen in the white hat next to President Kallio).
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73. Marshall Mannerheim is the only person in Finnish history who has been rewarded that particular military honor. In fact, he is and forever will remain the only person who has the title “Finland´s Marshall”, an honor bestowed upon him for his services to his home country during Finland´s tumultuous early years of independence.
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A few years ago he was voted by the Finns themselves as the most important Finnish person of all time.
74. In June 1942, Adolf Hitler came to Finland to pay his respects to Marshall Mannerheim on his 75th birthday. As a little “souvenir” for future generations, the sneaky Finns recorded a snippet of his and Mannerheim´s private conversation.
It is the only known recording of Hitler speaking with a calm, normal voice, as he was very particular about only being filmed while screaming and ranting his ideologies.
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75. Roughly 3 million tourists visit Finland each year and I think at least 2 500 000 of them are always going exactly where I´m going too.
76. We like to make things hard for foreigners.
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77. We don´t have any mountains.
78. But we have lakes. We have a shit ton of lakes. 187 888 lakes to be precise.
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79. FYI
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80. All our days end with -tai (Monday = maanantai, Tuesday = tiistai etc.), except for Wednesday. Wednesday is called keskiviikko.
81. We have a lot of free time.
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82. J. R. R. Tolkien used the Finnish national epoch the Kalevala as inspiration for the languages in the Lord of the Rings saga.
83. The St. Louis Arch was designed by a Finn called Eero Saarinen.
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84. Every summer we arrange what is called Kaljakellunta aka “Beer float” which pretty much just consists of taking a floatie and a case of beer and... well, that´s about it.
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85. If you want to enhance your sauna experience, you can use a birch whisk.
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86. The bubble chair was designed by a Finnish man called Eero Aarnio.
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87. Thursdays are the “official” pea soup and pancakes day all over Finland.
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88. Finns love queuing.
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89. Life expectancy for men is 78 years and for women 84 years.
90. In Tornio you can play golf in two countries:
http://kmp78.tumblr.com/post/155901150914/finland-chronicles-part-15
91. Finns invented the so-called Molotov´s cocktail.
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92. All people in Finland must pay a TV tax even if they do not they own a TV.
93.  We celebrate Christmas on the 24th of December.
94. Finns love salmiakki aka salty licorice.
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I don´t, btw.
95. Finland is one of the few countries in Europe which has not banned sex with animals - and some actually take advantage of that loophole...
http://kmp78.tumblr.com/post/156161829244/finland-chronicles-part-21
http://kmp78.tumblr.com/post/156257574544/finland-chronicles-part-23
96. Armi Kuusela won the 1st ever Miss Universe pageant in 1952.
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97. In 2006, Conan O´Brian did a sketch about looking like our then-president Tarja Halonen and it ballooned into a huge movement.
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98. Weeeeell...
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99. On every Independence day, the current president hosts a party at his residence for about 2 000 dignitaries, celebs, politicians etc. We riff raffers sit at home in our sweatpants and watch it on TV with some nachos and snarky comments.
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100. MONTY PYTHON KNOWS. 
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SUOMI, AND THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING. 
Despite you reeeeally getting on my nerves SO MUCH and SO OFTEN, I still love you. 💙 💙 💙
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