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cosmics-beings · 1 year ago

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So i re-evulated a lot of Megatron and Starscream thoughts I had regarding episode 21, especially regarding continuing and ending the cycle of abuse. So I wanted to share those!

So I had initially come into episode 21 of Earthspark thinking that Megatron's writing was rushed and inconsistent but after taking some time and re-evulating, not only do i think it made sense but I also think it showed actual change in his character while also respecting Starscreams' narrative and character as well (and agency).

earthspark megatron is ever changing, that is something that i realized. what i thought of as inconsistency is well, him changing and going through character growth, because we don't really know the character if that makes sense. earthspark gives us bits and pieces of him and it's hard to tie together. before this episode, we didn't fully know how megatron was during his past. there was that one snippet of bee asking him how he trained troops and megatron outwardly admitted to using violence. it is a complete contrast to the megatron that is over all shown to be peaceful and remorseful and that is what confused me to begin with. i didn't understand how a megatron that was presented ad redeemed and changed, could still be outwarldy violent and still have traits of abuse. but then it dawned on me that, this is all apart of his development. just because you're 'good' and accepted by others does not automatically mean you are no longer abusive, especially if you haven't done the work to change that - and more importantly if you haven't been called out on it.

megatron being redeemed/reformed isn't supposed to be a simple thing. IDW was like that as well. IDW megatron struggled with violence and trusting the lost light crew. While TF ES Megatron is already accepted in the Malto family and is seen as an autobot, that doesn't mean he doesn't struggle. That doesn't mean there aren't still toxic/abusive aspects of his past that might conflict with the Megatron that we see as peaceful and loving. Megatron being redeemed and kind around some people, does not mean that he is the same around everyone, especially in the case of Starscream, whom we know he abused. And that is something that is canon, something that despite so many contiuums making it a joke and shaming Starscream for it, is finally indisuptably canon in a way that respects Starscream's agency and trauma.

At the same time, how Megatron acted in the cave doesn't cancel out the fact that he is still redeemed, it actually shows the opposite, it shows that he is changing. I think my and other people's biggest fear is how Megatron slipped back into violence meant that he was irredeemable, but that's not the point (and not, it's not about us caring about his narrative more than starscream's. to me , it didn't make sense if they're setting him up to be a good guy, just from a writer's standpoint) . It shows that even if he's a 'good' guy, he still has a LOT to work on. The moment he saw Starscream he reacted with violence. He automatically assumed that he was a threat and that he was hurting Hashtag, he was unable to see him as anything but a dangerous criminal. He still hadn't seen nor understood that Starscream had changed because he litearlly didn't know him. More importantly, it showed that he hadn't moved from his past. Not his past with Decepticons, his past with Starscream.

However, the SECOND Hashtag stood in front of Starscream and defended him, Megatron changed. He lowered his weapon, and believed her. And at the end of it all, he let Starscream go free. He didn't think that he was a bad, dangerous person, he let him go free and actually understood and accepted that Starscream didn't feel safe around him. He didn't continue that pattern of abuse that he used to. That is character change and it shows growth. And even though i believed it to be inconsistent at first, I see how it made sense now. Now it's something Megatron can work on, now it's something he can change.

My only complaint is that I wish we got to have a conversation between them. I want them to talk, I want there to be some closure because they're both my faves. But I know that will come later on. There are tons of pointers showing that their paths are not nearly done being crossed, I mean at the end of the season we see the two together and I think that's intentional. And I think there is going to be more time to not just explore their relationship but also their dynamic. Both of them are victims of abuse, Starscream is a victim and so is Megatron.

Both Starscream and Megatron have gone through and perpetrated the cycle of abuse but in that moment, in that episode, the both ended it. And I think that's important. I think both of them being survivors of abusive relationship/dynamics but learning how to end the cycle right then in there is something that is going to be focused on.

And I think more importantly we're going to see both of them change. Starscream also has a lot of changing and making up to do to his trine mates, and also to the other decepticons. Starscream was a shity person, he literally physically kicked/hurt Skywarp and Nova - and we don't know how far the extent of that is. And Megatron, even if he is redeemed, has to show us that he realizes how he treated Starscream is wrong and that he's ready to change and I can't wait to see that. They are both healing because if Megatron gets to heal, so does Starscream. But they are both being held accountable.

That said, I don't think there's anything wrong with having different views or opinions on this, especially when it comes to the writing. Because the cybertronians are not the main characters of Earthspark, there is not as much focus on them as the terrans. So to many, because of the snippets and bits we get of Megatron's character, this could've been read as inconsistent. And for me, with such a heavy subject like abuse, i WOULD HAVE LOVED them to mention it before, I would have loved to have a warning regarding it. I think it would've made sense. But i understand that the writing direction is not supposed to be focused on these specific characters if they aren't connected to a terran.

but at the end of the day, i'm glad that starscream is given respect, but i also can't wait to see how their path crosses and how things grow. and as a victim of abuse myself, i do like the direction they're going with two other survivors of abuse and i hope things continue to go well.

#starscream #megatron #transformers earthspark #earthspark #i feel the need to clear up some things i've said because i know that a lot of people saw my earlier posts and got upset #so i just wanted to put this out there

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bat-fan-sa · 2 years ago

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SonAmy: Talk of Canon & Canon Expectations in Fandom

I understand that not everyone likes or supports SonAmy. I understand that there are plenty of annoying, obsessive shippers out there who turn people away from the ship entirely. I get why so many antis are sick of seeing SonAmy, especially with there being more of a focus on the ship in recent years, both in the fandom and in the franchise itself.

And as a SonAmy shipper, I’m fine with that because what others think won’t change my own enjoyment of the pairing. Toxic shippers and toxic antis won’t make me stop from shipping the two together regardless.

But what I do take issue with are those antis who still persist with the idea that SonAmy has no canon basis to it and that Sonic doesn’t have any romantic feelings towards Amy. Going further by using the whole, “It’ll never be official/canon, so stop shipping it.”

The thing with that is, I’m fully aware that Sega is never going to make SonAmy “official.” By official, I mean, Sonic and Amy are never going to openly confess to one another (on screen) and start dating. Sonic and Amy are never going to be a canon couple or get married.

Because the Sonic franchise does not progress that way. It’s known for sticking to the status quo when it comes to character relationships, and one of the biggest selling points for Amy and Sonic’s dynamic is that Amy openly loves Sonic and pursues him, and Sonic is too shy to openly admit his feelings for Amy, focusing more on freedom and stopping Eggman.

Sonic is a franchise that doesn’t focus too heavily on romance, but there has been romance present in the games, shows, and other spinoff series. And unlike what many have claimed, Sonic has been shown to return Amy’s feelings, he just isn’t as open about them as she is towards her own feelings.

Example 1: Sonic X (produced by TMS Entertainment, but was in partnership and oversaw by Sega & the Sonic Team)

Was full of moments that were heavily coded as romantic, from Amy giving the seashell bracelet as a gift and Sonic later on wearing it and saving her from drowning to the scene where they fall into the hay and just relax together in that moment, Sonic even letting her blow some stray hay out of his ear.

This specific scene also come to mind because it is heavily, heavily romantic coded. From the lighting to the positioning, to Sonic being the one who gifts Amy a white rose (which is typically used at weddings) after Amy has a heartfelt confession and asks him to just tell her he loves her.

Example 2: Sonic Unleashed

When Sonic is turned into a werehog and Amy spots him and comes rushing over, he immediately becomes insecure about the way he looks and runs away. He doesn’t want Amy to see him in such a state and fears scaring her away.

But the real indicator of any romantic feelings shown in the game is the fact the player is given the option to accept Amy’s date proposal or not.

If Sonic doesn’t have any feelings towards her, then why would that even be an option in the first place? If Sega never intended for Sonic to ever return Amy’s feelings, then he wouldn’t agree to a date, nor would the player be given the option.

Example 3: “Sonic is too shy to confess.”

Says right there on the tin. Sega was asked and they answered with this. And if this is supposedly fake, wouldn’t have Sega caught wind of this and cleared things up as to prevent any misunderstanding?

I could also go into other examples, such as the recent IDW comics (not Archie) or Sonic Boom, but I’ve already made my point and this is already getting quite long (sorry).

While, yes, there’s never been a concrete moment where Sonic proclaimed, “I love Amy Rose!” in the games or spinoffs, there’s plenty examples of subtle moments indicating that Sonic has some feelings towards Amy. Sega has had many romantic moments shared between the two where Sonic didn’t run away or reject Amy’s advances, sometimes openly reciprocating or initiating them (albeit not as eccentric as Amy does in comparison).

So, the argument about whether SonAmy is “canon” or “official” has always been a pointless one to me because there’s already evidence that the two have some level of romantic feelings towards each other. Sega has made it rather clear that SonAmy is a thing.

But they’ve also made it clear that they have zero plans to ever have the two officially date or marry in the games or spinoffs.

This does not mean that SonAmy isn’t canon; it just means that the franchise isn’t going to risk making any major decisions that will change the already pre-established status quo. So, in a way, yes, SonAmy is not “official” in the most canon-sense of the word.

But none of that even matters when it comes to shipping, because shipping has never been about whether or not characters end up dating or married in canon. People ship crack and uncanon pairings all the time, sometimes with characters who’ve never even met or interacted before. Even if SonAmy didn’t have any canon basis to it, people would still be shipping them because canon has nothing to do with shipping.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, antis claiming that SonAmy isn’t canon based solely on them not officially dating or being married, while also ignoring the evidence that proves they share mutual feelings towards one another, has always felt like an inconsequential point to me.

It’s just an outdated way to look at shipping.

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic #Amy Rose #SonAmy #Analysis

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orcelito · 8 months ago

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I think ITNL is one of the only Trigun fics I’ve read where adult Vash actually loves his wings. Him testing them out is one of my favorite chapters! And as much as I do love Vash angst involving his views on his own inhumanity, this was such a refreshing take! Was it a mindset you had settled on right from the start, or did you workshop it a bit to see what would fit the story better?

HI HELLO THANK U FOR UR QUESTION

honestly, the idea initially comes from the thought of like. well, a lot of fandom has him hating his inhumanity, but we don't exactly see that in canon? he hates what he's capable of, thinks someone with his power shouldn't exist, but in and of himself, we never see him actually hating being a plant. it just kind of Is. and so ive taken that into account for my fic, + the fact that in latter trimax we see him get so much more comfortable using his powers. in earlier manga they scare him a lot, but after everything he goes through, he sees his powers as the tool they are.

and with All That In Mind. then comes my own personal bias for flying lol. i've long loved the concept of flying, adored games that give me that ability (the game Gravity Rush was a lot of the inspiration for how i wrote Vash flying), & can in fact fly in just about every dream of mine (if i remember that i can). it's about the Freedom, the ability to fall without fear of hitting the ground, and the release from the bounds of gravity. ADDING IN the fact that Vash naturally has wings. this is just part of his Nature. he's scared of himself, but just like a bird knows in its core that it should fly, so does Vash.

so. the freedom of flight, something as natural as a bird in the air, and it's at Vash's fingertips. (or Wingtips, if you will lol)

of course, it's not as simple as Just loving them. as we see in that part of the chapter, right before he starts to fly,

Clambering to his feet again, Vash stood at the very edge of a nearly 500 foot drop. He spread both wings out as far as they could reach, just for the experience of stretching them. They were long, maybe 20 feet each. When spread, his wingspan must have been around 40 feet wide. He felt powerful. He felt like something that should not exist.

it's the Majesty of the wings!!! the feeling of how NATURAL they are!!! and a little bit of the revelry in his own power, then guilt that he would ever feel grateful for any part of it. this is the sort of power that caused so many deaths, that has haunted him for basically his entire life... and it allows him to fly, something that feels so natural and RIGHT...

and. yeah. ultimately, ITNL has been an exploration of how Vash would interact in that early manga stuff, but with the experiences from the later manga. so i think i always have had this kind of thing in mind. he's still scared of himself and his power, but it's a useful tool and is simply a part of his nature. he stopped denying that 2/3rds or so through trimax, and that is the vash that we have Now.

#speculation nation #itnl shit #step back apple jack #ask #thank u again for the ask i LOVE talking about my fic #+ dont u worry. there will be more times that he gets to fly. in time heheh.#also if anyone else wants to send any questions......................i would love to talk about it..............

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annisthree · 2 years ago

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Chapter XI: Maelstrom

previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter (all the following chapters were posted on ao3 only; you can find all the links in the masterlist)

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~5k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, canon typical violence,

A/N: Cross-posted on AO3 (same username).

The spaceport lights gleamed against the dusky Corulag sky as Marla and K-2 rushed towards platform 12-C.

They had just returned from the ship after transmitting a brief mission update to the command. They should have waited for a reply and further instructions - instructions that would probably include the words 'wait' and 'backup' - but Marla didn't care. There was no time. She would deal with the command once Cassian was safe.

The initial anger and subsequent panic transformed into intense, single-minded focus. Of course, she was terrified - but fear wouldn't help her save Cassian.

'I suspect I am going to regret asking this,' K-2 said flatly, 'but do we actually have a plan?'

'Gotta learn where they took him. Once we know that, we just go in, kill everyone on our way, get Cassian, and get back to the ship.'

'I understand now why it is usually Cassian who takes care of the logistical part of the assignments.'

Marla didn't feel like exchanging snarky comments with the droid - perhaps for the first time since Cassian had him reprogrammed. In fact, she didn't really feel like anything that wasn't directly tied to rescuing Cassian. It felt like all of her existence, all the training, fighting - all of that was just a preparation for this single moment.

She had to succeed. There was no other option. Her world had shrunk to this single, all-consuming mission - find Cassian, bring him home.

Platform 12-C looked exactly the same as every other day. Beams of bright light crisscrossed through the hazy air, outlining shapes of workers, pilots, and merchants - each absorbed in their own world, oblivious to what had happened earlier that day.

Marla supposed the spaceport had seen its fair share of arrests, and so the people learnt to move on and return to their daily routines. But what they didn't realise was that this wasn't just a normal arrest, and Cassian wasn't just some criminal. They couldn't possibly see how important his mission was, or how important he was. Because he really, really was. And it felt like only Marla understood that.

'If I may suggest something, I think we should start by locating the Imperial headquarters. The protocol would dictate detaining and interrogating the suspect before transferring him to a larger facility, depending on the result of the interrogation.'

'Thanks,' Marla muttered, her fingers clenching and unclenching nervously. 'Does your memory bank have the map of the city by any chance?'

She tried very hard to ignore the word interrogation and its implications. Not now. Not when she needed to stay razor sharp.

'No, that is not part of standard programming.'

Marla cursed under her breath. Great. So they would have to do things the hard way.

'Stay here. I'll try to ask around.'

Her eyes darted from one worker to another. She knew she needed to tread carefully - too eager, too obvious, and she'd draw unnecessary attention. But this kind of reconnaissance wasn't exactly her expertise.

Maker. Cassian would have immediately known what to do.

But Cassian wasn't here.

As she continued to scan the crowd, Marla eventually spotted a woman in grubby overalls, her brow furrowed as she wrestled with a large crate. She seemed like a local. Good enough.

'Excuse me.' Marla approached the woman, trying to slip into the role of a concerned citizen. 'I think I saw something... illegal. Someone-- I think they were smuggling contraband. I don't know where to report it.'

'Just talk to one of the Imps,' the woman grunted, clearly not too eager to stop her work. 'Plenty of them around.'

Right, that would have made sense.

'N-no. I think it's a bigger operation. I want to speak to someone in charge.'

The woman eyed Marla sceptically. 'Then you should probably report it to the Captain.'

'And where can I find him?'

'Imperial headquarters, just outside the spaceport,' the woman replied, setting the crate down with a heavy thud. 'Go back to the main road and turn left behind the med centre. Big, ugly, grey building. Can't miss it.'

Marla was almost surprised at how easily she managed to get the information. She was just about to turn around to give Cassian a smug look of victory and maybe a comment about how he underestimated her espionage skills...

But Cassian wasn't there, of course.

'Thank you,' Marla offered the woman a shaky smile before turning on her heel and promptly retreating to where she had left K-2.

'Over there,' she said to him quietly, pointing her chin in the right direction. 'Right behind the med centre. Let's go.'

Not wanting to waste any more time, she set a vigorous pace towards their destination. Kay was right - it must have been where they had taken Cassian.

'If I may suggest,' K-2 broke the tense silence, 'I think once we get there, we should pretend I have brought you in for questioning.'

'This... isn't actually a bad idea,' Marla said. Until now, she had been focused entirely on getting Cassian out, but she hadn't really figured out the how . She was ready to tear the place apart brick by brick with her bare hands if needed, but she had to admit K-2's plan was probably more sensible. 'You can say you found me sniffing around the cargo. Which is technically true.'

'Correct. And then I shall wait for an opportunity to release you both.'

'Yes. Here.' She stopped abruptly and removed her backpack to fish out a couple of round, metal objects.' Take these charges and plant them... somewhere. Try to get us some weapons while you're at it, just in case. And check if there are any speeders we can steal.'

'Noted. With this new approach, I estimate that our chances of success have risen to approximately fifty-five per cent. It would have, of course, been much higher had we waited for the reinforcements--'

'You can go back to the ship and wait for reinforcements,' she spat out with frustration. 'If you're so scared of a couple of bucketheads.'

'As a droid, I do not feel emotions such as fear,' he informed her. 'I will assist you with your rescue mission, Marla Reid.'

'Thank you,' she said, and she really meant it. She'd had mixed feelings about the droid at first, but he had positively surprised her more than once during this mission. He had demonstrated unexpected levels of resourcefulness and perseverance during their space station adventure, and now he was helping her despite clear orders to wait for reinforcements.

Plus, she was getting quite fond of his sassy attitude. Which, of course, she would have never admitted openly.

Out of habit, she thought about sharing her reflections with Cassian - he would have been happy to hear she was willing to give Kay a chance.

But Cassian wasn't here. And it was getting increasingly clear how much she needed him for the most mundane things - to be able to share small victories, to rely on his expertise and skills, to vent, to just be there and look at him, at how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, at how his mouth twitched when he had trouble remaining serious, and how he looked back at her.

She knew she shouldn't, of course. Becoming so dependent on someone, especially someone who got himself into as much trouble as Cassian did, was... well, unwise at best.

But she had long accepted that this wasn't a choice anymore. She couldn't pinpoint when exactly that happened, but somewhere along the way, between stealing hesitant glances at him and fully immersing herself in the depth of his eyes, between thinking about him at night and actually falling asleep next to him, between hesitant touches and melting into his naked body - somewhere on that journey, she'd realised she could no longer stop it.

It was still terrifying, but not having him around and not being sure if she ever would have him around again put this into a new perspective.

She really, really had to get him back.

Cassian sat alone in the cold, dark cell, the chill seeping into his bones. The silence was punctuated only by the rhythmic clanking of stormtrooper boots outside his cell and the low, incessant hum coming from the vents somewhere behind the locked doors.

Every single muscle in his body was aching. He could barely see anything in the dark, but he didn't need his eyes to know he was covered in bruises and dried blood. The metallic taste was still in his mouth, and the dull pain of his ribs suggested there was a very unpleasant med-bay appointment waiting for him at the end of this adventure.

If he got out.

The cell was completely empty; there wasn't even a bed, so he was sitting on the cold floor with his back against the wall, staring at the faint streak of light coming from under the heavy durasteel door.

They took away all of his weapons as soon as he was captured - that, unfortunately, included his pocket vibroblade and his lockpicking kit. Although to be fair, there wasn't anything for him to lockpick - the outpost was surprisingly high-tech, and the door mechanism that stood between him and his freedom could only be accessed from the outside.

Based on his estimation, he'd been there for about five hours, based on his estimation (which could have been grossly off, because there wasn't anything there that could help him keep track). Upon their arrival at the outpost, he'd been briefly interrogated - but as soon as it became clear he wasn't going to talk, the interrogation turned into a show of dominance. They didn't even seem that interested in getting any answers; not at that point, at least. Cassian didn't know if it was his complete lack of reaction that angered them or if they were just very keen on some good, old-fashioned violence, but his stomach and arms were now covered in evidence of Imperial brutality.

Not that he'd needed any reminders.

He wasn't looking forward to seeing them again, but he was hoping they would soon want to ask him some actual questions. That would be his only chance for getting out of here - although he wasn't yet clear on how exactly he would do it.

Normally, he would have just patiently waited to see how the situation developed. He'd seen his share of Imperial holdouts and detention cells, and somehow he always came out of those situations in one piece, so there was no reason for him to think this time would be any different.

But it could be. Because of Marla.

Cassian knew she would try to rescue him as soon as she realised what was happening - probably even still in the spaceport, while doing something incredibly stupid like starting a shootout surrounded by stormtroopers and civilians. That's why he'd had to make sure Kay brought her back to the ship, even though the chances of his escape would have been much higher if the droid was with him (Cassian was sure Kay would have been able to tell him exactly how less screwed he'd have been).

He was confident K-2 could manage it, and it seemed his strategy had worked. Cassian imagined that, upon transmitting the coordinates, Marla would have been instructed to wait for backup. They weren't far from Coruscant, and he knew there were several squads stationed in the capital, so it likely wouldn't be particularly difficult to find someone to come over and assist them.

What might have been difficult was tempering Marla's anger enough to keep her on the ship - but he was confident Kay would find a way to do it. He was only hoping it didn't include having to physically restrain her. Although, knowing her, it was a very viable scenario.

Suddenly, Cassian's focus was disrupted by a series of loud sounds upstairs. Something was happening. The outpost's steady, slow rhythm was becoming faster and more frantic: the rush of hurried footsteps, an explosion of voices, and the dull sound of some large object hitting the floor.

Change of guard? No, it sounded too irregular, too rushed...

He began listening in, trying to identify some keywords in the sea of muffled voices, but his focus was broken by the sound of footsteps walking down the stairs, followed by the whirr of the cell door.

A torrent of light swept into the room, filling it with the sterile luminescence of the holding block. Cassian squinted, raising an arm against the glare, heart rate accelerating with an instinctive rush of adrenaline.

Two figures emerged from the flood of light. The first one was wearing stormtrooper armour.

The second one was wearing the spaceport worker's uniform, had a long dark braid slung casually over one shoulder, and was currently being thrown into the cell with a force that almost knocked her over.

Cassian's heart froze in his throat.

'You were supposed to--' he started, but Marla interrupted him with a fierce hug that almost stole the breath out of his lungs.

He froze. It felt like his brain was rebooting, trying to decide how he felt about Marla's unexpected presence.

But was it really unexpected? Of course, he wanted her to stay on the ship - but deep down, he knew she wouldn't. Just like he wouldn't.

'Are you okay?' Marla whispered into Cassian's shoulder as she continued to trap him in her arms. There was the slightest tremble in her voice, and he didn't know if he should attribute it to having recently been rather violently thrown into the cell, or something else entirely.

Cassian hummed, nose buried in Marla's hair. He knew he should have been cross with her for disobeying the orders and rushing in without a plan. But for now, for those couple of brief seconds, he was just happy to inhale the familiar scent of her shampoo and absorb the warmth of her body against his.

Finally, she took a step back and looked up at him. Despite the dimness, Cassian noticed the bright gleam in her eyes. She looked relieved. She looked as if she genuinely expected him to not be okay - even though he'd only been there for a couple of hours.

'What are you doing here?' Cassian tried giving his voice some sternness, but he wasn't entirely sure he succeeded.

'I came to save your sorry ass,' she replied, the familiar roughness replacing the tremble in her voice. Only her eyes still carried traces of worry - but she was visibly trying to conceal that, too, shifting her gaze to the wall behind him to avoid eye contact.

Cassian sighed quietly. 'You were supposed to stay on the ship.'

'Well, you were supposed not to get captured. And yet, here we are.'

'What's your plan, then? And how is getting locked up going to help?'

'It is going to help, because right now, K-2 is upstairs looking for a good place to plant explosives.'

'And what if he fails?' Cassian searched Marla's face for even the faintest suggestion of a backup plan. He found none.

'He won't fail. '

Cassian let out a long exhale in an attempt to tame his frustration. Of course there was no backup plan. He supposed they were lucky there was any plan at all.

'Damn it, Marla,' he said, running a hand through his hair. 'You should've stayed away.'

She shrugged, a small smirk playing on her lips. 'Well, I didn't. Now we're in this together. And I intend to get us both out.'

That faint trace of a smile on her lips reignited something in him, something that helped momentarily bury his fear and frustration. They were in this together. And as much as he could be mad at her rash ideas, he understood her need to act.

At least she was here. And somehow, the cold, barren cell didn't seem so hopeless anymore.

'This is hopeless,' Cassian murmured an eternity later, still sitting on the floor in their cell, still no sign of any activity upstairs.

'Give him time.'

'You're advocating for him now? When did you two become best friends?'

'Shut up.'

As if on cue, the silence was suddenly shattered by a muffled rumble, the vibrations pulsating through the walls of the cell. A shock wave moved through the floor, sending Cassian's heart into his throat. His eyes met Marla's, and she nodded.

It was happening.

The cell door shuddered in its frame as the sound of rending metal echoed between the walls. Cassian's pulse thundered in his ears. They were now standing next to one another, facing the door, waiting.

'Hope it took care of all of them.'

'Well, it sounded... sufficient.'

And then, just as the dust began to rain down from the ceiling, the cell door hissed open to reveal the towering silhouette of K-2.

'Cassian. It is good to see you alive. I told Marla that the likelihood of you dying so fast after being captured was very low, but she would not listen.'

Cassian raised one eyebrow at Marla, who, in turn, gave him a nonchalant shrug.

'Okay, less talk, more rescuing. Care to untie us?' her voice was now uncharacteristically flat, and Cassian knew she was trying very hard to sound unbothered.

They definitely needed to have a conversation after all that was over. But for now, he needed to focus on escaping.

With their hands untied and equipped with the blasters Kay was able to recover, they pressed forward into the maze-like interior of the Imperial prison. The smoke from the explosion was thick, coiling around them and making Cassian's throat burn.

After a while, they found the demolished staircase that got them upstairs, into the corridor that would lead them to the exit - at least Cassian assumed it would. The signs of the explosion were everywhere: they passed piles of rubble, some still-burning pieces of furniture, and two - no, three - fallen stormtroopers, their white armours now smudged with soot.

'There were eight of them, I think.'

'Nine,' he corrected Marla, almost tripping over another, fourth body. But where was the rest?

He got his answer even before he finished forming the question in his head.

Out of nowhere, a blaster shot echoed through the hallway, shattering the silent stillness and filling the darkness with a quick flash of red light.

Grabbing Marla by the sleeve, Cassian pulled her behind the nearest corner, flattening them both against a wall. There was some shouting, then another shot in their general direction, and a wave of footsteps. Three people, judging from the frequency.

K-2 was the first one to react, stopping in his tracks and sending a series of blasts down the corridor.

Meanwhile, Cassian looked back to Marla only to see she already had both her blasters out. She had that fire in her eyes that he should definitely not be focusing on at that moment... but, Maker, did he love seeing her in battle. She looked like a statue, like a goddess of war sent to the Galaxy to annihilate the Empire and to make an absolute, hopeless fool out of one Cassian Andor.

An echo of another bolt ripped the air, and Cassian focused back on the shooting, trying to map out the enemy's location based on the angle of the shots.

And then he stepped out of his cover and fired a flurry of blaster shots, praying his estimation was correct. In return, he heard a loud, pained groan, followed by a series of rather creative curses in at least two different languages.

Not wanting to see just how angry the stormtrooper was now, Cassian stepped back behind the cover again and took a deep breath.

'My turn,' he heard Marla's voice almost directly in his ear, and before he could react, he saw her run out of her cover, charging straight at the three stormtroopers grouped at the end of the hallway. Blaster bolts, like shards of glass, shredded the air in all different directions, and Cassian's heart froze as he watched Marla duck behind a pillar somewhere halfway between him and the stormtroopers.

She looked around and tucked one of her blasters back behind her belt. And then, in one fluid motion, she gripped a half-loose and visibly burnt durasteel panel on the wall and ripped it out.

Cassian wasn't sure why she did that - but she didn't let him wonder for too long. Soon enough, she grabbed the sheet of metal and held it in front of her, using it as a makeshift shield, her other hand outstretched with a blaster pistol.

She darted out of her cover towards the stormtroopers and somehow managed to deflect an oncoming bolt in a way that sent it ricocheting and hitting the stormtrooper who'd fired it. She then stopped behind another pillar and paused for a couple of breaths, her chest rising and falling almost in sync with the frantically flashing red lights.

Swearing under his breath, Cassian started running, and shooting, and dodging, and running some more - before he'd reached her position.

'Two left,' Marla panted quietly, a fleeting hint of a smile dancing on her lips. She had already discarded her makeshift shield, reaching back for her second blaster. 'Ready?'

Once again, she didn't wait for his reply - she just charged among a swirling maelstrom of blaster fire, pressing forward with lethal grace.

Not wanting to stay behind again, Cassian darted out of his cover and caught up to her, and soon enough, the sharp clatter of an armoured body hitting the floor filled the corridor. One last trooper left.

But that one last trooper was surprisingly persistent, and it quickly became clear it would take more than blindly shooting forward to take him down.

So they gave it all they'd got. Dodging, weaving, and countering with their own shots, they moved as one, as if they were dancing the same choreography they'd known for years. With their combined skill and K-2 providing covering fire from the back, they were as powerful as ever.

But that still wasn't enough. The stormtrooper kept dodging their shots and replying with fire - surprisingly precise fire, considering how long they'd already been fighting.

Does he not get tired?

Cassian was just about to fire another shot when he saw the stormtrooper duck out of his cover. But this time, he wasn't holding a rifle. He was holding something small, something that had a tiny red switch. And then he threw that something in their direction - or, more precisely, in Marla's direction.

Time seemed to slow as Cassian spun, catching sight of the grenade flying straight towards Marla. Immediately, his world narrowed to a single objective: shield her .

With an adrenaline-fuelled lunge, Cassian jumped towards Marla and wrapped his arms around her waist, sweeping her off her feet and landing on top of her as they both collided with the cold, hard floor behind the cover of a storage locker.

The next thing Cassian registered was a searing flash of blinding light that illuminated the entire hallway for a split second. And then his ears were attacked by a deafening wall of sound that swallowed up every other noise, every other sensation.

The sheer force of the explosion was so immense that it shook not only the ground but the very air around them, causing the storage locker they were taking cover behind to tremble and quiver in response. Bits of debris whizzed through the space where they'd stood only seconds before, and the world became an indistinguishable chaos of sound, light, and heat.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to hang in suspension, the aftermath of the explosion still ringing in Cassian's ears. But the reality quickly snapped back into place.

'Are you okay?' he managed to pant out, propping himself on his elbows to shift some of the weight off Marla, who was lying beneath him with shock painted on her face.

'Y-yeah...' she murmured, looking around at the surrounding dust and rubble, before focusing her eyes on Cassian again. 'You?'

Cassian nodded nervously, adrenaline still hot in his veins. He could swear he felt Marla's heart hammering against his chest, matching his own frantic heartbeat.

It was a good feeling. It meant they were both alive.

A shiver ran down his spine, a chilling realisation washing over him. It was really close this time. Too close for his liking. If he hadn't spotted that grenade, if he hadn't reached her on time...

No, not now. It wasn't over yet. He had to stay sharp.

'Kay? Are you--'

Before Cassian could finish, he heard a single shot being fired, and then a loud thud of a body hitting the floor.

'I am unaffected,' the droid replied, lowering his blaster. 'And I am happy to report that the area is now clear of hostiles.'

Cassian let out a long, relieved exhale. 'Good job.'

'Great. Now, do you think you could maybe consider getting off me?' Marla groaned from underneath him, and Cassian realised he was still pinning her against the floor with all his weight. 'Stars, you're heavier than you look.'

'Right.' He pushed himself up to all fours, still a bit lightheaded from the explosion. He looked around - if the place had looked demolished before, it was now barely holding together. Small fires were still flickering out in several places; at least two large stone columns fell over and crashed into little pieces on the floor; and the end of the hallway was painted with the blood of the stormtroopers.

'More luck than brains,' he murmured, slowly pushing himself up to his feet.

'Hey. We made it. That's all that matters.'

'No, Marla...' he threw her an irritated look. 'We almost-- you almost...'

He let out a frustrated sigh. Gradually, he began recounting everything that happened during the fight - and then everything that happened earlier. And, as the adrenaline and the survival instinct subsided, Cassian Andor began slowly realising how close he was to losing something - someone - very, very important.

And he really did not like that.

Hours later, Marla eased into the pilot's chair, the familiar cool touch of synthetic upholstery meeting her skin. Normally, she'd have savoured the view - there was something soothing in the steady vastness of the constellations ahead, something familiar in the way the ship shook as they entered the hyperspace, something irresistibly hypnotising in the brilliance of stars that blurred outside the viewport as she executed the jump sequence.

But she really wasn't in the mood to savour anything.

The journey back to the ship had luckily been much less eventful than the rest of their day. It had also been much more silent, with Cassian limiting his reactions to monosyllabic grunts uttered with a frown that quickly discouraged Marla from trying to make a conversation.

Fine. Whatever. She just wanted to get them off this rock as soon as possible.

And she did - only this time, she had to do it with K-2's assistance, because her usual co-pilot was busy sulking somewhere on the other end of the ship.

But she was tired and frustrated, and she wasn't looking forward to spending the entire night wondering why Cassian was mad at her. And so, with a long exhale, she left the safety of the cockpit to look for him.

When she entered the common room, Cassian stood by the viewport, his frame outlined against the blue and white of hyperspace.

'You disobeyed your orders,' he stated flatly, turning around to face her.

'Yes. And you got yourself captured.' He looked up at her, his mouth pressed together in a tight line. 'I don't get why you're so cross about it. I have assessed the situation and made a strategic decision. And I was right. We made it.'

' Strategic decision, ' he scoffed, his eyes widening in disbelief. 'You rushed headfirst into an Imperial den. If it wasn't for Kay, we would have still been there.'

'That is correct,' K-2 interjected from somewhere behind her. 'I calculate the chances of successful rescue would have been over sixty per cent--'

'Oh, shut up, both of you.' Marla rolled her eyes and then focused back on Cassian, a mixture of icy resentment and burning-hot anger filling her chest. 'I saved you. What the hell is your problem?'

'My...' Cassian scoffed again and shook his head. There was a moment of heavy silence, and when Cassian finally spoke, his voice was quiet but unusually - painfully - bitter. 'You. You are my problem. You and the reckless, suicidal stunts you pull.' Cassian paused, taking a heavy breath. 'You nearly got killed, Marla. Just because you couldn't be bothered to actually think something through for once.'

The mask of composure had been torn away, revealing an expression Marla didn't quite understand. Cassian was still visibly angry, but there was also a hint of sadness, and something else, something indescribable that felt strangely familiar, almost as if it was mirroring the same ache she could find within herself.

After a long, heavy pause, Cassian turned back around, seemingly focused on the stars outside the viewport.

'You're not the only one allowed to be worried, you know?' Marla said quietly, her words almost swallowed by the hum of the engines. She saw Cassian stiffen slightly, but he didn't turn around.

'I'm too tired to argue with you, Marla. We'll talk tomorrow. Go get some sleep.'

Fine . Sure. If he wanted to be angry at her for saving his life, so be it. Throwing him one last irritated look, she turned around and left the common room to disappear below the deck.

As she entered her quarters, her mind became so crowded she could barely pick a singular thought to focus on. It felt like staring at a navigational chart overloaded with conflicting data. Or like exiting the hyperspace to find yourself in the middle of a battle. Or like having your systems fail mid-flight, one by one, the aggressively red warning light mixing with the smoke and the smell of burning engines.

You are my problem .

Cassian's words had struck a nerve. But it wasn't the accusation that kept repeating in her mind - it was the concern. The worry that had somehow sneaked into his voice, clung to his words.

Was he worried about her?

It wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to worry about her. He must have realised how little sense it made - damn it, either one of them could end up dead at any moment during one of their missions. Concern was a liability neither of them could afford.

But then, she remembered back to that feeling when she saw him getting surrounded by a swarm of stormtroopers, when she had to be physically dragged back to the ship, when she realised how easily she could lose him.

It seemed accepting her own mortality was much easier than that of someone she cared about.

Of course, she had known from the very beginning - from the moment she kissed him that night on Scen or perhaps even before that - she had known this would never be easy or straightforward. But this, this was getting too much for her simple pilot brain to handle. And yet she had to figure it out - preferably sooner rather than later - before it spiralled out of control. Before it exploded.

Because, despite being rather fond of explosions, Marla wasn't sure she was ready for the fallout of this one.

'Kriffing hell,' she muttered under her breath and slumped onto the edge of her bunk.

When did it become so damn complicated? And what was she supposed to do with this mess?

#cassian andor #cassian andor x original female character #andor #andor fanfiction #rogue one fanfiction #star wars #andor series #fanfic #rogue one

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phoenix-fell · 2 years ago

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This is not a dog at the last anon bc while I wasn’t a hardcore BS shipper I do love like morning follows night and think not fall in love with you is very cute. But as far as Teasing Moments, knowing Blake is bisexual actually makes the shift from BS to BB really cool? Yang was her teammate and friend, they were new to each other, so even with some initial physical affection and liking her Blake, who had just left a long term thing with Adam, wouldn’t want to rush or assume anything in a new friendship. But Sun who was very flirty from the get go and openly goofy was a Faunus like her so that’s how they connected, and while he was into her he wasn’t intense like Adam and wasn’t a close partner like Yang, so he was someone she could crush on in a safe way that wouldn’t ruin her team or anything like that.

But at the fall of Beacon when Adam set his sights on Yang, Blake realized her feelings for Yang ran deeper than a crush, and she left ALL of her friends behind. I know a lot of ppl don’t enjoy the fact that Sun followed her onto the boat, but his entire interaction with Blake during V4 and V5 is his own crush slowly taking a backseat bc he just wants to help Blake as his friend. He mentions Yang personally after he gets hurt and unlike Jaune in V8 I think Sun is able to pick up on Blake’s romantic feelings for Yang.

Not this anon but it makes me laugh / makes me mad when ppl say BS Deserve to be canon bc of the moments they shared and ignore that Sun as a character was willing to put those moments aside when he saw Blake was no longer looking at him that way or her crush was taking a backseat to the white fang issues as well as her feelings for Yang

Not to mention HOW MANY YA novels do the same thing where the main girl has a crush on two guys and has to pick between them? BS and BB are literally that trope but Sun is actually a good friend who cares about her and doesn’t try to kiss her to prove he’s Better. He’s a goof he can be too in your personal space at times. But he cares a great deal and seeing ppl say they want BS to be canon without taking these things into account make me wonder if they actually prefer the ship or just HATE BB. Bc BS is cute I like the concept, but if BB is bad bc they spent two volumes apart even if the girls didn’t “start” in V6 Blake has been away from Sun for going on four volumes now. So if they got together in V10 would ppl say it doesn’t make sense bc they weren’t around each other?

Again no hate to this anon or BS I think it’s cute I like their songs. But the butchering of Sun’s character is something I’ve seen for years and it’s always bothered me

Oh for sure - I get a lot of inboxes/messages to the effect of 'BS is better because Sun put in all the effort' and for me, like, I'm really respectful of BS as it's a valid ship even if it wasn't my cup of tea.

But one of my pet peeves is the concept that BS should have happened because Sun put in all the effort to help Blake overcome her fears while Yang 'just helped her with Adam', because it's so demeaning to Sun's character (and Yang's tbf) and how great of a friend he is (not to mention the fact that helping a friend out doesn't entitle you to a relationship with them), it just seems like a constant insinuation that all Sun's 'effort' was wasted because it didn't end in romance. I think Sun was a fantastic foil to Adam in handling rejection, because despite Blake being interested in someone else, Sun was a top guy about it and just so supportive. I love the fact that Blake and Yang started as friends, there's something in the supporting material as well that said Blake thought it would be easier to have been with a faunus too so I think that makes a lot of sense in the beginning. And tbh, it made a lot of sense for Sun to be the one to go to Menagerie with Blake, I think he was definitely the right one to go at that point. Partly because of it being a faunus settlement, because Sun has been invariably tied with the WF plot since he was introduced, but also to properly show that vital transition for Blake. Because even though Yang isn't there, it's prevalent throughout that they're both in each other's thoughts.

But yeah, you're spot on - the part that irks me most is the butchering of Sun's character in some of these takes. Like I said, BS was never my thing - had it happened, I wouldn't have been mad about it, and I think people should absolutely still enjoy the ship if that's their OTP and they deserve to, but yeah, everything you've said tbh!

#phoenix.answered

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ashes-in-a-jar · 3 years ago

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I'm probably pretty wrong with this but it always felt weirdly sudden to me how immediately when Jon woke up Georgie cut him off (without going into speculations of off screen, non canon conversations). She was there the whole six months of the coma and then he finally gets up and she speaks to him no more than a few minutes and leaves with no proper explanation? I know people explain and so does she that it's unnatural for him to wake up from this but what was she doing there in the first place for so long while he was dead in all but his brain, which is pretty unnatural in itself? Waiting for him to die? Hoping he'd come back normal from death? I don't understand the discrepancy between this six month devotion to something that's clearly unnatural from the start to leaving when that person wakes up.

In my head I alway explained it through these lines when she talks about her encounter with Oliver:

BASIRA: And you’re sure you didn’t recognize him.

GEORGIE: No, no – he was, um – I’d never seen him before.

BASIRA: But?…

GEORGIE: He, uh, he felt like death.

BASIRA: What, capital ‘D’ Death?

GEORGIE: Yeah. Y’know, one of your… dark gods

In the apocalypse she was hidden from the Eye because she can't feel fear and therefor supposedly cut off from the Fears without feeling them and their supernatural influence. But of all of them she does feel Death, the End. She feels it very potently when Oliver shows up and my guess is she felt it on Jon when he woke up and was marked by the End with Oliver's help.

So if she feels the End in a supernatural way it means she still feels it as a Fear which means she still feels fear and can be afraid even if it's only of this one thing!

I think that in addition to the whole bit with her leaving and not wanting to help Jon anymore if he doesn't help himself and doesn't take the steps to leave the place hurting him there was something else that made her leave so suddenly with no preliminaries.

I think she was so unused to feeling fear that when she finally felt it now with Oliver and then felt it on Jon it made her be much more rash than she usually is and ran away from it not wanting it to come back into her life. She suddenly saw her memory of the living corpse in Jon's reawakening with that feeling of the End mark and, with the already heightened cautiousness she developed to deal with her lack of fear, she just couldn't handle feeling it again and had to leave.

This is not an argument to make her decisions lose justification! On the contrary! I think it helps me understand how she finds the logic in her leaving much more if she can actually feel the Fear and it causes her to rush into the decision. I think it makes her choices more human in my eyes. She can no longer see Jon as what he used to be because now he's marked by her worse fear and is far gone and she could only see it after Oliver left and he woke up. While we know it's not true that he's gone, her fear clouded that and she ended up rationalizing her decision later with the fact that Jon isn't helping himself leave so she can't even begin to help. Which, after reading posts and discussing it legthly with others much more elaborately than I can articulate in one place makes more sense to me than it did at first (understanding Georgie's logic took me a long time and it's much more complex than I'm putting here).

But this understanding of her feeling actual, real fear when it's the End that shows up explains the initial moment of her leaving after six months of being there which baffled me so much at first.

#This is much longer than i planned #Hmmmm #tma #the magnus archives #georgie barker #Oliver Banks #Tma 122 #Tma meta

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abumbledbee · 4 years ago

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Tubbo and Wilbur’s Parallels

tw/ mentions of death / suicidal ideations

“If I can’t become the next Schlatt, then you can’t become the next Wilbur.”

This is a quote from Tubbo, given just before the exile arc began, when he was arguing with Tommy. Tommy accused him of acting like Schlatt because he was putting the nation's needs before him. Tubbo, offended at the comparison, reminds Tommy that he is acting irrationally, and is reminding Tubbo of Wilbur.

When we speak of parallels between Tubbo and Tommy with Schlatt and Wilbur, we’re often inclined to compare Tubbo with Schlatt, because they worked together so closely during Schlatt’s reign, and the complicated relationship between them which ultimately ended up with Schlatt having Tubbo lose a canon life for his betrayal. And due to Tommy and Wilbur's close relationship before and up to Wilbur's betrayal, it's easy to draw comparisons between them as well.

But I think we often overlook a lot of similarities between Tubbo and Wilbur that are worth delving into more, and the farther Tubbo goes with his character the more comparisons I keep catching. At this point I think Tubbo's character parallels Wilbur's far more than Tommy's does.

Wilbur was the founder of L’Manberg, and its first president. It’s a nation he built from the ground up, which started as nothing more than a front for his drug lab but grew into something bigger and more meaningful than Wilbur ever planned for. While on the server he found love (?) and had a child, Fundy, and then things began to get rocky as they fought for their independence against Dream.

Ultimately Wilbur fails to protect L’Manberg and their independence is bought by way of Tommy sacrificing his discs in return. Wilbur ends up losing his country by way of being exiled when Schlatt wins office, and we watch his descent into madness as he realizes how much he cared for the country and how no matter what he does, what it once was is gone forever in his eyes. The Pogtopia arc originated with Wilbur trying to come up with a plan to secure his presidency again and to reclaim his country. It ends with Wilbur refusing his original role and ultimately destroying the very thing he created along with himself because he couldn’t bear to see what it or himself had become.

In Wilbur’s darkest moments we see them play out on screen, his button room is one of the most iconic scenes we got during this period of the storyline. Wilbur in an enclosed space, surrounded by the signs reminding him of what L’Manberg once was and what it would never be again. He's hounded by his thoughts, his mental state shattered and he no longer believes there's any other course of action.

Ultimately this is his final resting place, the room where he sets off the TNT that destroys L’Manberg for the first time. He begs his father, who had just arrived to the server because he was worried when Wilbur stopped sending him letters, to kill him. And Phil does.

L’Manberg’s story does not end here, despite what Wilbur did. It begins again, with Tubbo and a crater. We talk about Tubbo being president of L’Manberg as though he was just taking on the role and a nation the way Schlatt did, but in reality, he founded it again. Tubbo, along with Phil and others, REBUILT an entire city on the rubble of its former life. Tubbo’s L’Manberg is in fact nothing like Wilbur’s, except for the parts Tubbo purposely recreated, like the camar van.

The major difference in their takes on presidency is that Tubbo did this for Tommy, for Wilbur, for the original citizens. He took on the role of President out of duty to Wilbur who passed it down to him when he felt unfit to rule again. He did his best on behalf of everyone who fought on Pogtopia's side, to reclaim a nation they all had lost. In the end he lost it one final time, chunk errored by way of Phil, Techno, and Dream.

And from here on we see a new Tubbo. The bright-eyed, president-elect is no more, and instead he begins to isolate himself from the main server. He retreats to a snowy biome separated by water, and builds a house and gives it a name. Snowchester. Now, most people wouldn't give just a house a name. Even from the start Tubbo was creating a new community, without even realizing. Eventually Snowchester grew to be a legitimate colony of its own, with Jack Manifold, Foolish, and Puffy all moving in and setting up shop. He declares independence, and in doing so, decides he must ensure it any way possible. He's seen what happened to Wilbur's L'Manberg, how helpless the other man was in keeping it safe. He knows he failed his own L'Manberg, and he will not let it happen again.

He hatches a plan with Jack, and the answer is.... Nukes. A bomb, in other words. But instead of using it to destroy his nation, it'll be used to protect it. Tubbo designs it, and they ensure it works with a test launch before decommissioning the remaining two. Time passes and eventually, he's opening up to people again. Tubbo marries Ranboo and they adopt a child together.

Suddenly it's not just Tubbo, it's Tubbo and Ranboo, Tubbo and Michael, and then Tommy is gone. It's shocking, and unexpected, and he doesn't believe it at first. He's been so beaten down under Schlatt's regime he no longer openly shows his emotions, the closest we get to seeing his true grief during this time is when he stares at the memorial he just finished for Tommy in Snowchester. Then comes the anger.

He wants to know how this could've happened, he tries to investigate it, but before he can get too deep into it, Tommy's back. Revived, and Tubbo has had to experience losing him and gaining him back again twice now. Inevitably, like with most of Tommy's plans, Tubbo is roped into his next one. And it's a doozy. Tommy reveals that he wants to kill Dream, to ensure he can never revive anyone else, and Tubbo reluctantly accepts.

One of the most troubling moments during his investigative time was when he made a room for him to fill with his notes and evidence. At first glance it is deeply reminiscent of Wilbur's button room, the walls covered in signs and his lectern in the middle of the room mimicking the button. Because Tommy returns before he can get further in his investigating we'll likely never see this room again, but seeing him make it to begin with filled me with unease.

Tubbo has lost his fear of death. It's first noticed at Doomsday, when he defeatedly jumped in front of Techno's rocket launchers over and over again. We see inklings of it again and again, such as when he scoffs at his chat begging him not to investigate Techno for the TNT at the prison, saying he'd die. Tubbo just replies with "So be it." and continues on. We see it again when he and Ranboo investigate the Eggpire and get caught, and he continues to fight with them until he's only got a few hearts left. He mentions feeling exhilarated, full of life from almost losing his last. It's a reminder of the violent life he's had til this point, his time in the SMP filled with war and bloodshed since the very beginning. He's not afraid to fight despite being on his last life, in fact at times he seems almost ready to end it all.

Yesterday's lore stream was unsettling in a few different ways. The first being Tubbo casually mentioning how his eyes play tricks on him. It's a throwaway mention towards possible hallucinations or paranoia. He also refers to himself as paranoid later on when he's worried someone's hurt Michael, and it bothers him so bad that the next minute he rushes over to ensure Michael is safe. He is willing to do whatever he must now, to ensure Michael can grow up safely, much like Wilbur wanted for Fundy, with no Dream to terrorize the server any longer.

Wilbur's initial wish for L'Manberg once it was fully formed was for it to be a nation his son could grow up safely in, with all the possibilities at his fingertips, until their independence was threatened and he had to focus on leading an army instead of being a father.

But even more upsetting than that, is Tubbo's admission to how he designed the nuke. He tells Jack after one is stolen that there is a manual detonation option, a dead man's switch. He designed the bomb to have a suicidal solo detonation option as a last resort, so if he ever needed to use it and Jack wasn't there he could take matters into his own hands. Tubbo was so ready to ensure if something happened to his self-made colony he could deal his revenge even at the cost of his final life. His reasoning for making the nukes was not for self-defense, it was so he could finally take a swing back at whoever took from him again. He'd seen L'Manberg destroyed twice by people who initially sided with it, had 2 canon lives ripped from him by way of betrayals. He might not have thorns on his armor but by god will his death have them, and heaven help whoever is on the receiving end of his suicide-start nuke.

This mimics Wilbur's final steps but from the logical, more level-headed mind of Tubbo. He's created a bomb, a weapon of destruction he's willing to die with. Wilbur wanted to die with L'Manberg, Tubbo is willing to die for Snowchester.

#tubbo #wilbur #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #c!tubbo #meta #character analysis #trigger warning #tw #suicidal ideations #mentions of death #dream smp #vilbur #tommyinnit #ranboo #jack manifold

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dragongirl642 · 4 years ago

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If you are taking requests may I request some Heisenberg with a mute SO (maybe from an injury? Or trauma?) who, initially when they first met he thought they were too afraid of him to speak to him but eventually realised that no, they just CANT speak. Maybe they communicate through sign language instead?

Hi there 😎 To confirm, asks are open for head canons and mashups.

Thank you for the ask, I am thriving of this Heisenberg fix 😘

Discalimer: I am not mute and have never written a mute character before, I apologise for any inconsistencies or stereotypes that arise.

Here are some sfw headcanons for Heisenberg with a mute S/o (including their first meeting).

How he reacts to a first meeting depends on the situation.

If he meets you while doing his job as a Lord, e.g., kidnapping, after the lycan attack, or catching you somewhere you shouldn't be:

Heisenberg isn't surprised when you don't say anything upon meeting him. He knows the effect an unknown man wielding a giant hammer and levitating metal has on an unsuspecting person and can't help but grin at your shocked gasp and wide eyes.

However, he does want a reaction. You know how he just casually stands there and waits for a reaction from Ethan? That.

So he starts to get annoyed when you don't say anything.

No pleas for freedom? Sarcastic comebacks? Witty banter? This man thrives off of whatever communication he can get from anyone who isn't part of his 'family', so he gets angsty.

He will amp up the dramatics for a reaction - think flinging metal past you or holding shards to your neck with his abilities, "Well, are you not going to say anything?" "Cat got your tongue?"

But when you gesture frantically to your throat and mouth and sign at him, he freezes.

At the moment, using his voice is one of the only ways he can actually rebel against his 'family', so he immediately feels pity for you.

Depending on his mood, and whether any of the other Lords or Miranda has a spy nearby, he may shoo you away/point to an exit. But most likely he will either kidnap you to his factory, telling himself that he'll let you go later, or take you to the others anyway.

If he meets you before the incident, while taking one of his coveted jaunts to pub or walk through woods:

Just like in the other situation, he craves communication and reactions.

He is momentarily shocked when you reveal that you can't verbally communicate with him, but then tries to immediately show-off the little Romanian sign language he knows. (During his initial kidnapping and experimentation by Mother Miranda, he met and learned a few phrases from one of the other children and a maid). However, he quickly realises that it's not enough to have a full conversation; also, you might/probably sign in a different language/non-compatible variant (BSL, Auslan, ASL, SSl, etc...).

If you respond with enthusiasm to his attempts, he will be encouraged to seek out other means of holding a conversation, writing on a napkin, playing yes-or-no, and charades.

Will make a lot of jokes and innuendos about a common language that doesn't require talking. (Wink wink 😉😱 if you know what I mean)

He's surprised by how much fun he has talking to you and playing yes-no/charades. He doesn't want to leave but he will.

Will most likely hint that you should leave the area, believing you'll be safer away form the village. (Anyone would be).

Whilst in a relationship

As mentioned before, Heisenberg is very insecure and requires reassurance from his s/o that they want to stay with him. Establishing communication with his s/o is of paramount importance.

All the paper he owns always ends up oil-stained, ripped, or charred, but he somehow immediately finds a clean notepad and gifts it to you with a gilded quill. He may forget to provide ink at first, but he soon realises.

Alao, if you're used to modern conveniences, you may have to deal with a quill for awhile - Pens, what pens, all of his are chewed to oblivion and empty, same for his pencils, chewed and shattered. He searches for three hours across the whole factory before he realises he doesn't have a single working pen left and will go out to find more (or buy some of the duke).

He learns the sign language you use. Even though he's a fast learner, It's a slow process since the only material he has to learn with is a few scraps of paper from an outdated sign book, in the wrong language, and you.

When signing, his accent is a bit lazy (especially if he's working) and, if you teach him, he uses a lot of slang, for speed. Basically the signed equivalent of a stereotypical movie cowboy drawl.

Although he's adverse to physical affection anyway, especially at the start of the relationship, he gradually gets more needy with hand-holding and kisses.

Everytime you squeeze his hand in response to a question/statement, he raises your hand and kisses the palm. It makes conversations ten times as long but he won't stop no matter what.

Kisses your neck...a lot!

Definitely knows morse code. Builds a receiver set so you can message him anywhere in the factory. If you know it too, he's happy to respond to you tapping messages, and sometimes making cheeky jokes and innuendos from around a corner where you cant see him. If you don't, he'll teach you.

Also, morse code arguments...that almost always end in laughter if one of you taps out "don't yell at me".

Will try and build an arm-mounted typewriter for you...It doesn't go well.

One day when he's tinkering around making more headgear for a hauler he has an idea and excitedly rushes to find you. Just like how the headgear simulates brain activity, he offers to try and build a neural implant that will transmit your thoughts to a speaker.

He will mope around/sulk if you reject him, and start building it in secret. If you give in to his puppy eyes and agree he will throw himself into building it, but once he realises how intrusive/dangerous it will be for you, he stops and congratulates himself on keeping you safe (even though it was his idea in the first place).

If you're mute due to an injury, he will sometimes entertain the thought of building mechanical vocal chords.

If you're a selective mute, due to trauma, the first time he hears you speak (if you do), he starts crying. Definitely recorded you for playback later.

I think he is the Lord most likely to use the fact that you're mute against you in an argument. Either as an insult, or to gain the upper hand by tearing away whatever you're using for communication to silence you, e.g., taking away your paper, pinning your hands to the wall so you cant sign, etc...

He always regrets it though, and will try to apologise by being extra accommodating and making you gifts.

If he is in a tantrum, after coming back from a 'family' meeting, and there is metal flying everywhere, It will be even harder to get his attention than normal.

The first time this happened, he didn't realise you were there until a shard of metal sliced open your arm and you fell into some boxes stacked in the corner. Thr clatter, your tears, and the pained sound you made, brought him back to the moment and sent him straight into panic mode, he fussed over you for five hours with tears in his eyes; patching your arm, worrying over blood loss, holding your hand and refusing to let go.

He made a loud jangly bracelet or belt covered in bells and asked you to wear them. It took a while of steady convincing for him to realise this is going overboard.

However, despite your refusal, he knows the factory is a dangerous place and is terrified that you may one day be in danger and he wouldn't realise. (Even more so that he will be the one to hurt you).

He finds an airhorn, and also makes a panic button that will set off the factory's alarms, for you. Should you ever find yourself in danger, e.g., cornered by a lycan or soldat, there's an intruder, or you need to snap him out of an episode, you can just blow the horn/start the alarms and he'll come running.

He will sulk until you accept the panic button and try and hide it in your clothes, either with his powers or through 'surprise hugs' (which is instantly suspicious, because he's not the one to initiate hugs most of the time).

(I feel like he would make a panic button for a non-mute s/o too. Losing you is this man's biggest fear).

Whew...all done. 😅 Thank you again for the ask, it was eye-opening researching different types of sign language.

#re8 #re8 village #re8 headcanons #re headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil heisenberg #karl heisenberg x mute reader #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x you

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ackerfics · 4 years ago

Text

edelweiss — levi ackerman.

— levi ackerman x female reader

— warnings: spoilers for season 4 and the good old aot canon-typical violence.

— summary: you pour your unsaid thoughts to levi, only to break a promise that costs you your heart.

— word count: 4.5k

The sea holds so many promises with its sea-green hue that it spreads a chilling wave through your body like the first breath of winter’s snow. The first time you had ever set eyes on such a majestic view, there was still momentary happiness lingering as your comrades splashed each other with its blue waters. It was a symbol of hope and yet it remained a mystery that prevents all of you from knowing what was beyond this thing called the horizon. You remember how you laughed in delight when Hange presented a bizarre creature on their hands, beckoning you to move closer and focus your entire attention on the small unknown thing lying on your best friend’s palms. You remember glorying under the Sun’s ever singing rays, watching them glitter against every small jostle of water at your feet. You remember turning around to face your lover with a bright smile that might have rendered him speechless — fumbling for words when the two of you face each other.

Those moments were timeless.

Minutes spent wading in the sea was the only time you had peace.

You let out a shuddering breath as you brushed your fingers against the gold band decorating your left ring finger. This is no time to be vulnerable. You were a captain for years, for heaven’s sake, even before Levi joined the Survey Corps. The younger soldiers would feel nervous if they see your unnecessary tears. Hastily wiping them from your cheeks, you turned away from the railing separating you from the dreadful vastness of blue that placed you in such a mood and placed a tentative hand on one of the rooms housing your injured husband.

Entering the small room was more stifling than the situation happening around the continent. It would mean seeing Levi in such a state that would always accumulate unshed tears in your eyes. The bandages wrapping his figure only worsened your melancholy and with every step, you pray that he wouldn’t wake up from the cringing creak of the wood paneling of the floor. The room only had one single bed and a convenient chair on the opposite side of the lone furniture. You wasted no time in lifting the chair to place it beside Levi’s bed, seating yourself with pursed lips and clenched fists. The more time you surveyed his battered body, the more your throat burned with the urge to pour out your feelings in the small confines of the room.

With the Rumbling purging the continents beyond Paradis, this was no time to be relishing in old memories.

Yet living in those memories you shared with Levi kept you solid.

Your life wasn’t guaranteed in this last mission. There will always be a possibility that you won’t come home with the rest of the people fighting against the Rumbling and you had to make do of the short amount of time you had with Levi. But a part of you was saying that you had to survive no matter what, to make that dream of opening a tea shop in a small village possible — to give your child the freedom and childhood you had never experienced. That little ray of sunshine that came to both you and Levi in times of hopelessness a year after taking back the lost territory of the Walls. He looked like Levi that it was so hard for you to say goodbye, even if it were only missions for weeks on an unknown land. This time, you didn’t utter a single closure to your son, regret started bubbling in the abyss of your mind and stomach.

And now, you don’t know if you could ever meet with your son again.

Taking Levi’s hand as gently as possible, you took a deep breath.

“If time really was against us, I promise I wouldn’t cry. I promise I wouldn’t wait for you because I know you’ll still be the strongest soldier I have ever known. I am a mere mortal compared to you, Levi, and I fear that this dream of ours will have its last breath.”

A bitter chuckle came out of you as your grip on his hand tightened. The memories were now more vivid than usual — the time you introduced yourself to him and his friends from the Underground, the respect that blossomed between you when he knew you will be his new squad leader, the way he looked after you as your second-in-command, you recommending him in the vacant Captain spot of the Survey Corps, and you giving him a welcoming gift in his new office. Then, the images shifted to when he finally kissed you under the canopy of stars, to when he whispered words of reassurance as your bodies erased every space between you, to when you screamed in Shiganshina that you were pregnant with his child, and to when you started carrying his discovered last name along with the birth of your first son.

“The reason these thoughts tend to cloud my head at this moment was that the memories simply flashed in my mind as I stared at the ocean that I always longed for. Memories we shared that might have been fleeting yet they carry a thousand-fold of emotions coursing through every fiber of my being. Funny how every time we went out on an expedition all those years ago, you always told me to keep safe and come back with a heart that’s still beating for you. As if I would ever stop loving you and set my sights romanticizing the Titans as Hange does. I had realized that you never once accepted that my life could abruptly end with a constant war on our hands.

“Until your tired breath from lack of sleep gradually diminishes, this time, I will be the one to protect you and fight until I will let go of my own heart to sing a song worthy of you.”

“Was that a speech of farewell just now?”

Your eyes flew from your joined hands to the dulled gray irises of the keeper of your heart. Before you know it, tears continuously flowed a stream on your cheeks, your shoulders hunched as sobs racked your body. “I don’t know what came over me, must be the tension brought by the possibility of dying when we haven’t even stopped the Rumbling from erasing the rest of humanity.”

“Hey, look at me,” Levi uttered your name so softly as if he was afraid it would sadden you even more. Placing his left hand on your cheek, he wiped the cascading tear that glistened under the mellow glow of the lantern beside his bed. “You’re not going anywhere. Not when I am still alive with limbs fully intact. Well, except for the fact that I lost two of my fingers.” From that, more tears appeared in his view, flustering him in the slightest. “The point is that I will protect you. This dream with our small family will be forever ingrained in our future. You will always have me looking out for you.”

“But I’m supposed to be the one protecting you now.”

“Are you underestimating me?”

You shook your head, covering his hand with both of yours. You placed a tender kiss that you hoped radiated the unsaid thoughts that could ruin the moment you share with him right now. You wanted him to be a part of humanity’s victory against whatever crazy plan Eren has set his mind on.

“Our little boy is waiting for us to come home,” Levi reminded you after a few minutes of silence (with your occasional sniffles here and there). “Isn’t that enough reason for us to come home alive? Imagining him losing one of us was the one thing I don’t want to happen right now. Promise me.” You love the sound of your name when he says it. Akin to the flowers that seem like they hold all the jewels at the center of their petals. “Come home with me safe and sound.”

“I’m not one to keep promises, Levi, you know that.”

“Just this once,” he pleaded. “All I wanted was to have a happy ending with you, my edelweiss.”

With new tears blossoming in your eyes like flowers in spring, you gave Levi a promise that will desperately cling as long as the two of you are alive.

And he regretted making you say those words.

The battle with the Nine Titans of the past proved to be tormenting. With forces so small, the group who allied two countries at constant war with each other fought with bated breath, all eager to get out of the situation alive like no other. As hollow as your chest became after witnessing Hange sacrifice their life to let all of you escape, you steeled yourself and momentarily forgot the emptiness you felt as you landed on top of Eren’s back. You fought back a gag of disgust when you realized that the humungous creature shared similarities with those insects you loathe. However, Armin was captured by a Titan out of nowhere and everything went to absolute shit. Maneuvering in the air was perfect for the remaining members of the Survey Corps as they assessed the onslaught and ongoing appearance of their intelligent enemies on Eren’s back but their numbers continued pouring in. Two thousand years of Titan history right in front of your eyes. Everybody, Mikasa especially, was starting to feel agitated that one of their comrades was hauled away with a good number of Titans to prevent them from saving him.

“Even if I was in perfect shape,” Levi told them while they stayed perched a good kilometers away from Death, “I would still not choose to make a charge there. So calm down. Mikasa, don’t rush. Wait until I distract them.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. “Levi, don’t overexert yourself. We don’t want to lose you.”

“The feeling’s mutual. Don’t die on me.”

The rush of adrenaline started when Pieck initiated the charge, along with the thought that she had never known Eren unlike the rest of the people behind her. You screamed for her to retreat but they were futile when the Warhammer Titan materialized behind the Shifter and pierced a weapon made of hardened Titan skin through the torso of the woman’s Cart Titan. Gritting your teeth, you followed your comrades in a route specifically to rescue the new commander of the Survey Corps. Thunderspears were released every minute, maneuvers were done in utmost accuracy, and sliced napes gradually increased as your small group evaded every death-defying moment. As you were about to set your sights on one Titan in particular as well as avoid the Colossal Titan, Connie descended when the fifty-meter mass of burning flesh threw Reiner’s inert Titan at the rest of the squad, shaking the entirety of the spine you were carefully standing on.

“Levi!” you called out desperately when you saw him cough up blood. He was only a few meters away from you and you had to take him away from there fast. However, the sudden motion of a jumping Titan made you rethink your decision, latching your hooks at somewhere near Connie and blinding the creature’s eyes with an angered shout that might have startled it. The horrible creature tried snapping at your form but you were quick enough to evade its jaws with a hiss from your ODM gear, turning in midair to slice the Titan’s nape and rendering it lifeless. Looking down for a moment to check on your blades, you saw the lone pair sitting inside either sheath of the gear. “Fuck. My gas canisters and supply are not cooperating with the situation right now.”

Looking around, you suddenly realized with a hollow chest that everything was hopeless at this point. There was no escape as every intelligent Titan known to mankind swarmed your squad, their shadows a foreboding omen on your death.

Feeling a prickling sensation at the back of your neck, you turned around and saw that the Warhammer Titan was starting to make another one of its weapons, this time, a needle-like spear forming from the hardened material at the bottom of its foot. Shouting at the top of your lungs for your friends to flee, the message only registered to them when you pushed Mikasa, who was dangling in the middle of the trajectory with a determined face, oblivious to the weapon hurtling towards your squad’s direction.

Pain was something you always described as a chain of a chemical reaction. From all the books you read while trying to keep up with the latest idea Hange had, you always marveled at how a small prick of a needle would soon creep the sensation to your entire finger. To prevent yourself from being affected by the pain, you always likened the creeping pain to a blooming blossom in your and Hange’s favorite season. It promised something anew that would grow from the initial pain that racked your body. The dizziness was another story entirely. You never had issues with iron deficiency while growing up. You were a force to be reckoned with — battle scars lining up your legs and knees from all the running and climbing you did as a part of your childhood. These dents on your body grew in numbers as the years passed by until you were granted a position in the military regiment of flying wings and anxiety-ridden adventures. You wore these battle scars proudly like any other soldier.

Then, the promise of being alive rang across your head like a beacon.

That spear caused the entire left side of your torso to be gone.

The shouts of terror and agony from your squad fell on deaf ears as you slowly plummeted to your death. Ah, so that was why you were having flashbacks of your life from gazing at the ocean a final time. Glassy eyes stared lifelessly at the steaming sky as a single voice screamed your name nearly made you smile. You can finally let go of those long, never-ending days now. There won’t be nightmares plaguing you every other night as you finally succumbed to your last sleep. Selfish as it may, you were at peace once again.

“[Name]!”

And when you opened your eyes, a familiar face appeared to greet you and everything felt like a dream you just experienced from a drunken daze.

“Hi, I hope that wasn’t a bad dream.”

You blinked away the drowsiness that fell upon your eyelids, staring at a familiar landscape you only saw in daydreams. The clean air reminded you of the good old days, of summers left uncherished and autumn with its red leaves and yellow treats. There weren’t any Titans looming at every corner of the space and you slightly felt relieved at the thought until a single tear ran down your cheek like a chill in the winter air.

“Don’t cry.” A slightly panicked tone that only deepened the cut you felt in your chest. “You’re safe here.”

Those words only fuelled your cries. Palms covering your mouth, you uttered the name of the person who would pull you from the inner workings of your mind and bring you back to the surface. You never knew how much you missed them until you wrapped your arms around their shoulders, pulling them in an embrace that you should’ve done before they said their farewells, face taut with determination to stop Eren.

"Hange.”

They smelled like home. Of baked bread during late-night trysts in the kitchens to make them eat after a week of slaving inside their laboratory, of hot chocolate from the marketplace, of scented shampoo from the baths you had to force them. Your grip tightened when you felt their gentle hands reciprocate the hug you showered on them.

“I can’t believe you’re here waiting for me.”

“You did well.” A call of your name snapped you from reuniting with your best friend.

“Erwin?”

A warm smile lifted the said man’s lips as he kneeled beside you and Hange, who was now trying so hard not to cry. “You fought beautifully, [Name], and I’m so glad to see your smile again.”

The overwhelming emotions made you laugh brilliantly in the vast meadow where the veterans once had their picnic. Then, an image of a man with ebony locks and loving steel eyes and a toddler with an uncanny similarity as him made you stop breathing. The tea shop you promised your husband would have. The perfect childhood your son would’ve enjoyed. “What about Caelum? Levi?”

Erwin placed a firm hand on your shoulder. There you realized your torso was still intact. “You will see them as many times as you want. Come,” he took your hand and pulled you up, “the others are waiting. It’s your time to tell your story now.”

“I bet it was interesting since I never got to see it,” Hange interjected, wrapping a nostalgic arm around your shoulders. “That blasted Eren! I will haunt him in his sleep if he survived that massacre he started!”

Sleep was never Levi’s friend growing up. It was a realm that he chose not to venture at certain nights, afraid of the demons lurking at every corner of his tunnel vision. There was a time that sleep was kind to him. It took the form of a beautiful sprite with gentle fingers; coaxing him, tugging affectionately on his black locks, and humming lullabies that will guarantee him a good night’s sleep after a tiring day of having responsibilities. Only there was no fairy to lull him to sleep this time around. The nightmare was always the same — it started as any other random memory stored in the kept jar inside his chest, turning the whole scenario in a crescendo until he saw the limp body of his wife dropping lifelessly, the wire of her gear snapping from the impact of a white spear. His wife had the same face as the fairy who he held every night while being in the Survey Corps. The wife who gave him the light of his life, who was sleeping soundly beside him on the bed; black hair tousled, puffy cheeks blabbering drowsy nonsense, and chubby fists clenching on the thick sheets.

Glancing at the child on the bed, Levi ran an agitated hand through his hair, tugging at the roots as hard as he could. His mind flittered to the dream he just had, shocked that no blood and corpses were waiting at the end. Levi doesn’t know if he should be grateful or spooked at the sudden change of his unconscious.

“Guess you won’t be calling me ‘Captain’ anymore, huh, Levi?”

A playful jab colored Levi’s new office. It was a new change from that stuffy bedroom he got back when he was still the second-in-command of the woman standing in the middle of his office as if it was a new wonderland fit for admiring. The room was nothing much. It was an old storage room, which ticked Levi off to many tomorrows, spending every free time polishing the wooden cabinets and bookshelves until they reflected his face. There was an adjoining door to the right of his desk, showing his new sleeping quarters — equipped with a bed, housing double the pillows he got a while back and a soft mattress that his spine was grateful for. Now, the black-haired man observed how [Name]’s face lit up when their eyes met, igniting a foreign feeling inside his stomach and chest.

“So what’s second on the agenda, Captain Levi? I deduced that cleaning is the first one and you finished that without a hitch. You should’ve told me you needed help, I can always spare a few minutes taking a break from paperwork.”

Levi snorted at how smooth the title and his name sounded with the woman’s voice. “Finding brats to place on my squad.” As he fidgeted with the stacks of papers on top of his desk, his gray gaze kept glancing at [Name], who was now sidling up on his bookshelf, occasionally commenting that they pay a visit to the marketplace downtown for some good books to add in his collection. (“Your taste is bland, Levi, spice them up, for fuck’s sake,” to which the man brushed off.) “Uh, if you don’t mind, you can help me with finding some good soldiers for my squad.”

[Eye color] irises immediately snapped to meet his, causing Levi to clear his throat to ease the nervousness that started to chill his spine. It was as if he didn’t spend the past year under her leadership, which amounted to more moments spent with just the two of them. This, however, the nervousness he felt, was uncalled for. The cause being the woman with the unbound hair, curling at the bottom from the hours she pinned it in a bun, and a resolve that rivaled that of a stoked fire shining through her eyes. Truly worthy of the title ‘Humanity’s Beacon’, being one of the few women to ever prove themselves by slaying titans and conditioning their bodies and mind to achieve such an accomplishment. Levi found himself continuously staring at [Name] with the most blatant awe his stoic face could muster. He realized something that might have crossed his mind a couple of times they were together.

[Name] [Last Name] was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Finding good soldiers?” [Name] hummed, oblivious at the fact that she took the black-haired man’s breath away with a glance. “I think I have some cadets in mind.” Then, she clapped her hands. “But before that, I would like to give you your welcoming present!”

“Welcoming,” Levi trailed off, “present?”

[Name] nodded, turning around to the long couch pushed against the wall. So that’s what that poor excuse of wrapping paper was for, Levi thought. Like a little kid presenting the parent their shitty drawing, [Name] placed the gift in the middle of his desk with a clang. Wait, clang? “I hope I didn’t break it,” the female captain murmured, scratching her head sheepishly. “You can open it now.”

Levi tentatively unwrapped the brown paper around the supposed gift the woman gave him. Upon seeing what was nestled inside the papers, gray eyes met the most tantalizing [eye color] as he slightly gaped in disbelief. “You bought me a,” an eager nod could be seen from the woman in his peripheral vision, “a tea set. And a new jar of tea leaves as well. [Name], I-I couldn’t accept this, this must cost a lot. You know I have plans of buying my own tea set and tea leaves once I have a solid paycheck. These are even made from the highest quality, both of these, how—?”

Laughter bubbled from [Name] as she endearingly stared at the flustered state of her friend, abruptly stopping his chatter. “You’re rambling, Levi. Don’t worry about the lost money, we will be getting our paychecks next month anyway. I don’t have anything to splurge the rest of my savings on, except for a few books and quills. Besides,” she paused to give Levi a brilliant smile that once again rendered him speechless, “I guess giving you these are worth every single penny. Congratulations on being captain, Levi.”

Clearing his throat, he looked away. “Tch, you’re the one who recommended me to Erwin, stop with the congratulations as if you don’t know the promotion.”

“Still stingy, I see. So about those cadets you wanted to recruit. Here, I recommend these people.”

A small weight knocked Levi out of his stupor, silver-gray matching his stare with worried eyes. Small hands plopped on either side of the man’s face, squishing his cheeks as the hunched smaller figure on his lap pouted with furrowed eyebrows. “Dad, did you have a nightmare?” Letting out a sigh, Levi took his son’s hands from his face and proceeded to hug him close. The little boy sensed that his father was in a sad mood because of the man’s tense shoulders so he determinedly patted Levi’s head. “There, there, Dad. It’s more than okay to forget that dream.”

“You know I wouldn’t dare forget your Mom, kid,” Levi murmured, leaning back to look at Caelum with a raised eyebrow.

“You were dreaming about Mom?”

“Yeah.”

Great, his kid inherited his insomniac tendencies. If [Name] would see him now, there would be no doubt she will initiate a late-night tea party with Caelum. The kid also inherited his love for tea (Levi lets him drink fruit teas in the meantime) which is more than fine.

Caelum ducked down, pouting while fiddling with his father’s shirt. “I miss Mom.”

A sad smile pulled on Levi’s lips. “Me, too, kid. Me, too.” He brushed his lips on Caelum’s forehead (which lead to a small whine from the toddler, saying that he’s a big boy and he doesn’t want kisses from his dad) before lying down on the bed, with his son on top of his chest. “Deal with the kisses. Let’s sleep, yeah? Are you sleepy, kid?”

The little boy yawned and rubbed his eye. “Nope.”

Levi snorted. “Well, no shit.”

“That’s a bad word. Mom wouldn’t like you saying it.” Silence enveloped the two until, “Hey, Dad, can you tell me stories about Mom?”

“Go to sleep, brat.” A pause. “She is—,” Levi sighed, “quite a handful, even when she was a captain.”

Caelum huffed. “I already know that. You always complain about it.”

“Well, did I tell you about that time she stood on top of a Titan we were planning to capture, leading it like a horse to our trap?”

The dark-haired boy shook his head adorably. “Did Mom get hurt?”

“That idiot did.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say about Mom!”

“Setting that aside, your Mom…”

Telling stories of [Name] always proved to be quite a time-consuming thing as the toddler fought against his drooping eyelids. Levi fondly stared at the only memory his wife left behind, his hand soothingly rubbed the boy’s back as their breaths turned into a rhythmic melody synced with each other. “I love you, kid. I know your mom will be proud of you. We’ll always be here for you, our edelweiss.”

To you, glowing with the suns,

There was no one alive to tell the tale of how the world almost came to an end, how earthquakes rumbled, how hopes were extinguished. There was no one alive to tell the story of how much I dedicate my heart to you. If I’d known it would be this way; I would have written thousands of paragraphs with the way I looked at you as if you were the sea, I would have written the ending with words that rivaled the infinite stars in the cosmos, and I would have finished it off with happiness that we (you) deserve.

You are my prologue, my epilogue, and every chapter and page in between.

From a tired soldier who loves you until we become ancient,

Your Levi

#attack on titan #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #yes this is angst #i know this is a fluff blog #but i can't help it

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alj4890 · 3 years ago

Note

I got an ask we know Riley gets kidnapped by Anton but what if Anton was in love with her and he didn’t wanna kill her but makes her his. What if Olivia killed Claudus for shooting drake.

I love the way you think, Nonny! I actually would have eaten this up with a spoon if that had happened in canon. To be honest, I really liked Justin in book 2. If he had been a new love interest, I would have done a play through just to see what happens if Riley chose him 🤦🏻 Of course then we find out he is behind all the bombings and such so...oops, LOL. When I first saw your request, I made an aesthetic with just Justin/Anton and Riley in mind. I completely forgot to add a definite OTP of mine, Drake and Olivia, to it. Smh. The story though will definitely include them along with Riley and Justin. I am so tempted to turn this into a series 🙊

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms

Masterlist

True Intentions

It had happened when he had not been paying attention. It shouldn't have happened at all. He had one goal. One mission. Nothing had ever come to mean more to him than that. Nothing. No one.

Until Riley.

He knew he shouldn't have spent so much time with her. He shouldn't have helped Maxwell in picking the right dresses for her. He shouldn't have stuck around to see her come out of dressing rooms, an excited smile upon her face, as she twirled around for them to give their opinions.

It had taken all his will power to keep from telling her what he truly thought. Riley's beauty was simply stunning, not because of her outer loveliness, but more that he saw her inner beauty shining through each trial she faced. Her strength amazed him. Her wit brought a smile to his face. Her kindness touched his heart.

It made him begin to long for things he shouldn't. They shouldn't be a part of any dream or plan he had.

And yet...she was beginning to crop up in his thoughts. In his dreams.

In his plans.

He winced as he tried to get comfortable.

His plans hadn't exactly gone as he had hoped. In fact, he should have talked to his men and explained that Riley was not to be a target.

Thank God for Drake. If he hadn't jumped in front of her, she would have been taken from me.

His lips twisted in another painful grimace.

"Are you in pain?"

Justin looked up and tried to smile. "Just a little."

His nurse shook her head. "I told you to buzz before it got too bad." She gently checked his wound.

"I don't want to be a bother." He mumbled.

"You aren't." She patted his hand. "You aren't any trouble at all." Her nose wrinkled. "We had a few nobles cause unnecessary problems when the attack happened."

"Really?"

She rolled her eyes. "Some were knocked down during the chaos and demanded they be admitted."

He chuckled softly. "Sounds like something they would do."

"It's a shame that good people like you were seriously hurt while those spoiled nobles try and take all the attention." She readjusted his covers after administering some more pain medication in his IV. "I don't know why King Liam is so hellbent on bringing them back to court."

"What do you mean?" Justin tried to fight the effects of the pain medicine. "What's he doing?"

"He and Lady Riley are going on some type of tour to some of the major houses to personally invite them to their wedding."

His brow furrowed.

A unity tour. That would work on these small minded individuals. It was a smart move. The public were already Team Riam. Once the royal couple convinced the most powerful houses to come to their wedding, all the other minor lords and ladies would follow suit.

"Well played, Liam." Justin's eyes drooped closed. "Well played."

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

He couldn't believe that they not only convinced Madeleine's entire family, but also somehow got all of Portavira on their side.

"What's the plan?" Claudius asked.

"We need something big to remind everyone that we aren't a one trick pony." Justin told him.

He looked out the window. Leaves were beginning to change with the first hints of autumn in the air.

A hint of a smile appeared as a plan began to form.

"It would be a shame if Cordonia's apple orchard had a bad year, wouldn't it?" He eyed his second in command.

Claudius chuckled. "It really would."

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

Justin watched as every channel showed the devastation of the orchard near Applewood. He couldn't help but smile over Riley making the people love her even more for her righteous anger. Her promises to bring those responsible to justice along with making the orchard bigger than before made him nearly burst with pride.

She had grown into her role more so than he had ever imagined. Gone was the timid young waitress from New York who uttered no comment when reporters surrounded her. She was a confident woman now who could think on her feet.

Justin thought she was more attractive than the first time he had seen her floundering in front of the cameras, in desperate need of a hero. It hadn't been a bother to rush to her side then and put his arm around her. Her wide eyes had lifted to his and he had nearly melted from her beauty.

He still couldn't believe that she forgave Liam for choosing another over her. Granted Madeleine impressed him with how she could manipulate reporters into spinning a story to her advantage, but Riley was so many things that the cold countess was not. She deserved better than what she got.

And he planned on giving it to her.

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

A week after the orchard burning, he turned to see the one rarely far from his thoughts.

"Justin!" Riley rushed over to engulf him in a hug.

"How's my favorite media darling?" He asked.

She leaned back and gave him that smile that was brighter than flash bulbs. "Much better now that I know you're recovering." She playfully glanced about before whispering, "Save me from Madeleine!"

He laughed as he hugged her once more. "I don't know. I've seen her work and can't find fault with it."

Riley pouted. She linked her arm with his as they walked down the hospital hallway. "I prefer your guidance to hers." Her nose wrinkled. "It's weird being told how to act by Liam's former fiancée. I know there wasn't anything between them, but still."

Justin patted her hand. "Tell you what. If Madeleine is unable to do her job or you decide to fire her, then I will gladly step back into my old position." He dug around in his pocket for the earpiece she had used during Liam's engagement tour.

Her smile reappeared. "Old faithful."

"I'm always Just-in-time." He teased.

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

It had been too close. He hadn't expected Riley to go anywhere near Constantine. And there she was, by Liam's side, graciously accepting some necklace from the old man who had destroyed her initial happily ever after.

His heart had nearly stopped as he watched rubble fall around them. Riley had frozen in fear over Liam's safety. It was a nightmare come to life as pieces of the wall and ceiling began to collapse.

At least one good thing had come from this: one king was dead.

It sadly wasn't the king he needed to die.

Justin began to plan how he would comfort Riley once Liam was gone. He wouldn't have to tell her it was he, himself, who orchestrated his death. But he would make certain to enjoy the benefits of it.

His eyes narrowed over another slight problem he had.

He was going to have to kill his own wife too.

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

Lythikos...

It had been almost too easy. Madeleine was already in need of a distraction after hearing Liam gush over how excited he was to marry Riley in a few weeks. Once she requested a fruity cocktail, he knew then that the poison could go undetected taste wise.

The bartender left to go replenish the champagne. Madeleine's irritation over having to wait on a refill was drawing attention.

"Here." He grinned at her. "Allow me to make you another."

Her eyes widened. "Aren't you that press secretary that helped Riley?"

"I am." He began to mix a strong cocktail for her while adding the poison, all right under her nose. "And I must say you are the best I've ever seen."

Madeleine's irritation disappeared over the compliment. "I am, aren't I?"

"Riley's lucky to have someone so knowledgeable in ways of both the court and public like you." He added.

"Yes, she is." Madeleine muttered. "I'll do anything for my country, even if it is a thankless job."

"You should be recognized for your sacrifice." Justin handed her the deadly drink.

"Yes, I should." She took a gulp.

"How is it?" He asked.

"It's the only good thing here." A tipsy grin appeared on her face when she saw Riley. She grasped Justin's hand and pulled him in her wake. "Let's go say, hi."

"Boooooo!" Madeleine giggled when Riley turned around. "It's the ghosts of press secretary past and present."

"The what now?" Riley lips trembled with suppressed laughter as she looked up at Justin for clarification.

"I'm the ghost of press secretary past." He winked at her.

"OoooOooo!" Madeleine swayed where she stood.

"Whoa, there." Riley tried to steady her. "You okay?"

"She's had a little too much." Justin mimed drinking.

"It's a party!" Madeleine slurred. "It's in the worst place ever but it's a party and I'm going to...going to..."

"Enjoy it?" Riley offered.

"Extractly!" Madeleine's brow wrinkled over that not being the right word. "Expactly?"

"Exactly." Justin corrected.

"That."

The crowd quieted around them when Olivia took the stage to offer a final toast of the evening to Liam and Riley's wedding.

"Woo!" Madeleine cheered.

Riley and Justin tried to shush her.

Her giddy smile fell as her rosy cheeks drained of color. "Somefing's not..."

"Madeleine?" Riley lost her grip on her when she swayed violently to the right. "What's--"

Madeleine hit a table, causing the plates to clatter and the vase of blood red roses to fall over.

"I hate this place." She collapsed on the floor.

"Madeleine!" Riley dropped to her knees and tried to bring her to. "Liam! Mara! Come quick!"

Justin stepped back as the two came to see what was wrong. He watched as Olivia made her way through the crowd to find out what the all the fuss was about.

"What's wrong with her?" Riley asked.

"She's been poisoned." Mara whispered.

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

Justin loved seeing the delighted surprise once more on Riley's face when he said he would take over Madeleine's duties for the rest of the tour. It would have been a perfect moment if Liam had not been standing there. He was ashamed to think of his nearly giving himself away when he panicked at the sight of Olivia walking in behind him.

He wished Lucretia would quit trying to push Olivia into going into the family vault. She had a sick sense of humor in wanting her niece to discover she was already married. For some reason, she did not approve of the way her niece depended on her friends for support.

Justin knew the power friends could have. Had he not been trained by his own parents' friends, he wouldn't be the worthy man next in line to the throne. His comradery with his own men inspired their loyalty and willingness to die to make him king.

He needed to distance himself from Lucretia the moment they got out of Lythikos.

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

She was supposed to come alone! Why did she bring Riley? I can't kill her. I need her. I deserve to have a choice in the one I want ruling by my side. The people already adore her, much more so than they admire Olivia. I was supposed to become free of this marriage. Once she and Liam are dead, I'll be able to be king and have--

"Justin?" Riley's eyes were clouded with confusion as she looked first at a picture of him dressed in a royal uniform. "What is this?"

"I'm sorry, Riley." His voice cracked on her name.

Justin reached in his pocket and pulled out a revolver.

Lucretia cackled with glee as she told her niece the truth about her marriage.

Justin stood there silently as the woman he loved shook her head in denial.

She's so incredibly sweet to doubt a friend could be the bad guy. I hate that I can't pull her away from all this and simply explain why I should be the ruler of Cordonia. I deserve it. I worked for it. My entire life was made for me to take the crown. She would be able to understand that. Look how far she's come in her own life. Who could imagine a waitress from some dive bar in America would come to be the next queen of a small European nation?

"Do it already!" Lucretia hissed. "Shoot her!"

He couldn't do it. Even as he held the gun steady, pointed directly at the woman he loved's heart, he couldn't shoot Riley.

"Get away from her!" Liam ordered.

Justin spun around to see the king and guards filling up the narrow passageway.

"I thought you said this was secure." Justin snapped at Lucretia.

"It was." She held her hands up in surrender.

Justin watched as she stepped forward, pretending to stumble.

His eyes widened as once again his love was trapped within a collapsing room.

He managed to see her safely end up in Liam's arms before escaping through a hidden passage.

He left Lucretia to the guards. She had served her purpose and was sadly of no use to him any longer. Now he could plan what he truly wanted to happen.

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

Liam and Riley's wedding day...

"I don't care who you kill. Olivia and Riley are to be taken alive." Justin told the small team of men he was sending in. "If you have to wound them to get them here, make certain Riley's is non life threatening.

He ignored the questioning look Claudius sent his way.

"Bring them both to our stronghold." His eyes narrowed. "Do not fail me."

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

Later that night...

"Good work." Justin straightened his jacket. He wanted to look his best when he saw Riley again.

Claudius smirked at him. "Just think of all the men we would still have if you had let me go alone."

Justin chuckled. "True, but at least we are free of our weakest links." He smoothed his hair back. "Now take me to our guests."

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

"I know the real Justin is somewhere in there." Riley leaned as far forward as her bindings allowed. "You helped me gain the love of the people. You know that if you kill me, the people will not readily accept you as king."

He couldn't help but smile. "I know and that is why I don't intend to hurt you."

"Then why kidnap us?" Olivia demanded.

He turned toward her. "If I'm to be king, then I have to take the necessary steps to claim the throne." He motioned for Claudius to come in.

"You're the one who shot Drake!" Olivia shouted, struggling against the ropes biting into her tender skin. "You'll regret that."

"And you tried to kill me!" Riley added, narrowing her eyes.

"That was a mistake." Justin quickly said. "You were never to be harmed."

"Then why all the attempts?" She asked. "Why do you persist in--"

"You weren't supposed to be here, Riley." He knelt down in front of her. "You should have stayed in New York until the time was right"

Her eyebrows drew together. "What are you talking about.

Justin asked Claudius to remain with Olivia while he took Riley somewhere private.

"If you think for one second that I will remain with this man while you take her away go do only God knows what," Olivia's chair creaked at her straining to break free, "then you don't know what a Nevarkis is truly made of!"

Justine rolled his eyes over her rant as he untied Riley from her chair. He kept her ankles and wrists bound together. He swept her into his arms and carried her out.

Olivia's shouts were silenced by the sound of a hard slap.

Riley struggled in Justin's arms. "What did he do to her? OLIVIA?!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Justin, please don't--"

"Nothing's happened to her." He took her into a surprisingly clean, yet drab, sitting room.

Riley was dropped on a chaise lounge. She eyed the door then Justin.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He repeated. He gently cupped her cheek, fingers brushing along her jaw line. "I love you too much to ever harm you."

Riley stilled. She looked up at him. "You what?"

He knelt before her. "I'm in love with you. It didn't hit me until you told me you had accepted Liam's proposal on the train. I didn't plan it, but I refuse to hide my feelings any longer." He smiled at her. "You've proven yourself as the rightful Queen of Cordonia. Once Liam and Olivia are dead, you and I can rule this country as we see fit. We'll--"

Riley shook her head. "Justin," she believed he was deranged and knew she had to handle this carefully, "I'm flattered. Really I am. I mean, we both know I would never have gotten this far without you."

His smile grew at her realizing she owed him for her meteoric rise within the court.

"But if you kill Liam and Olivia, the people will not feel any love or loyalty for you." She tilted her head as she studied him. "Surely you see the problem with this plan."

"People respect power." He explained. "They respect someone who fights for what is rightfully his. Since my birth, I have been meant for something greater. My parents, Olivia's family, even my soldiers realized that I alone am worthy to rule over this country." He focused once more upon her. "And I've seen that you are the one to do so by my side."

Riley shook her head. "Justin, I am honored," her voice cracked on that lie, "to have your love but I can't accept it." Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm in love with Liam."

"Riley, he didn't choose you." Justin argued. "He left you on your own to fight against nobles, the press, even his own father. You deserve so much more than being an afterthought."

Tears slipped down her cheeks once more. "That wasn't what he did. He was trying to protect me. And I--"

He leaned down and kissed her.

She froze at the touch, refusing to participate.

"Once Liam's gone, you will see the truth." Justin promised.

"I won't." Her eyes narrowed. "As long as I live, I'll hate you with everything within me for taking him from me."

"You don't have it in you." He shook his head in amusement. "You've forgiven everyone. Olivia, Penelope, Madeleine, even Constantine. You never hold a grudge."

"You'll be my first." Riley vowed. "Liam is the love of my life. If you ruin my chance to finally be with him, I will never forgive you. As long as there is breath in my body, I will find a way to destroy you."

"You are amazing." He murmured, knowing she was speaking from her heart. He couldn't wait for that devotion to be for himself.

"Anton?"

The two turned to see Claudius in the doorway. "Liam should be here any moment."

Justin nodded and told him he would meet him and the rest of the men downstairs.

He lifted Riley in his arms and placed her back in the cell with Olivia.

His wife had the bruised imprint of Claudius's hand on her alabaster cheek. Blood had dried on her bottom lip. No tears had fallen from the force of the hit. Her left eye was bloodshot as she glared up at him.

"Liv?" Riley choked out. "Are you--"

"I'm fine." Her harsh answer echoed in the chamber. "It will take more than some two bit thug to hurt me." Her eyes did a quick scan to make certain Riley wasn't hurt.

"If you will excuse me, I have to go prepare for Liam's last night on earth." He retied Riley to her chair.

She threw her head back with all her might to connect with his face.

His glasses broke from the force of her strike. Blood poured out his nose as he stumbled away from her.

"Don't ever," his voice dropped to a hiss, "do that again, my love." He gripped her chin and jerked her face up toward his. "You will learn how to behave soon enough."

He slammed the cell door and left them alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Olivia whispered.

"No." Riley bit her bottom lip. "Not yet."

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

"Where is my wife?" Liam demanded.

Justin couldn't help but be impressed. The young king was standing before him, completely outnumbered, yet didn't show the slightest flicker of fear.

He asked the one question that he himself would have asked if Riley was taken from him.

"She is well." Justin replied. "Which is something I can't promise about your own well being."

"I want to see her." Liam bit out. "Now!"

Justin's chuckle was interrupted by a hastily whispered message from Claudius. His head jerked around to search the dim hallway as if doing so would reveal the missing prisoners.

How had they escaped?

"You don't get to make demands here." He snapped at Liam.

"Let Riley and Olivia go." Liam ordered. "And I will take their place." His eyes narrowed. "I know it is a temporary one."

Justin couldn't help but smile. The man was indeed brave to trade his life for Riley and Olivia's.

"No!" Riley screamed out from the stairs.

Chaos broke out as she led the charge to attack the Sons of the Earth. Justin watched as she ran over to protect Liam's back.

The couple were doing their utmost to protect the other from harm.

Their friends were taking his well trained soldiers out one by one. It was embarrassing to see how pitiful his men fought.

Olivia moved into his line of sight. Fury blazed across her delicate features.

"I'm impressed." He told her, unsheathing his sword. "I should have searched you myself."

"Trust me." Olivia circled him. "It will be the last mistake you'll ever make!"

She lunged at him. He easily parried her attack. "I think you've forgotten that it was your parents who gave me the same training you had."

"I think you talk too much!" She twirled about, bringing her daggers up to stop his sword from meeting her shoulder. He grunted from her heel piercing his leg as she pushed off to break his hold.

They continued to try and deliver punishing blows to the other. She was desperate to kill the man who was after her friends and country. He was anxious to be free of their marriage.

He noticed from the corner of his eye Claudius and Drake fighting. His second in command stunned the commoner with an uppercut to his jaw, causing Drake to stumble back into a wall.

Olivia heard the scuffle and followed Justin's line of sight. Her face paled at Claudius moving towards Drake to end him once and for all.

With a flick of her wrists she not only slashed Justin but threw her other dagger at Claudius. It struck true along the side of his neck, cutting into his jugular. He let out a garbled scream as he fell to the floor.

Justin hissed at the deep gash she had made along his ribcage.

Seeing that it was a lost battle, he hopped the banister and began to rush upstairs. He would have to go into hiding once more before orchestrating another attack.

"This ends now!" Riley yelled out at him.

He spun around to see both her and Liam rushing toward him. He raised his sword, determined to put an end to the man who stood between him and the throne. He hesitated when Riley jumped in front of her husband.

"You're not taking him from me!" She raised her battle ax. "Every time you try, I will stop you."

Does Liam know how lucky he is? She waited on him to choose her. Twice! And now she stands here, ready to defend him to the death. How could any man not fall in love with Riley?

His refusal to fight her was his downfall. He was pushed over the banister by the royal couple. While his breath was knocked out, Maxwell and Hana bound his hands together behind his back.

He looked about at his fallen and captured comrades. His attention was drawn toward Olivia and Drake. The pair were covered in blood and bruises, yet they were leaning against each other. Drake had his arm around her while softly speaking. Whatever was said caused Olivia to press even closer to his side. Her arms slipped around his waist. Her eyes were closed tight as she allowed him to hold her.

Justin had suspected something more between the pair. It looked like his coup for the throne had accomplished something for them.

Bastien and the rest of the King's Guards rushed in. After talking to the king and new queen, he collected Justin and hauled him outside.

On the way, Justin met Riley's eyes.

There were so many things he wanted to explain to her. He believed she would have been on board with his plans for the kingdom. Once he had killed Liam and Olivia, he would be the benevolent king the country needed. Gone would be the purpose for pompous nobles. He would have established a council of Cordonia's citizens from all walks of life to advise him. People would be rewarded and honored for their service instead of simply being born to the right parents.

And she would have been his queen, guiding and protecting all she deemed worthy.

"Riley, I..."

"You will never ever hurt those I love again." She hissed.

"Take him away." Liam ordered, keeping his arms locked around his wife. "He will be dealt with in the morning."

Justin knew then that it was pointless to try and explain. She would never give him a chance after all that had occurred.

For the first time in his life, he realized that his intentions didn't matter to the one he loved most.

#the royal romance #trr #choices #trr liam #liam x riley #drake x olivia #justin x riley #choices the royal romance

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bored-storyteller · 4 years ago

Text

Oh my, thank you! Thanks for bringing this to me, I love Sally Face! It's one of my favorite indie games ever! I really hope it meets your expectations.

NOTES: I imagined the more adult Sal, but beyond that there are no other references to the timeline of the original story, except some canonical episodes mentioned.

34- Sally Face - Sal Fisher x Reader

"You can see me"

With a last glance at the clock, you quickly close the water bottle, at the same time grabbing the full glass in the same hand that you also hold the medicine box.

You're pretty sure you find Sal in his room, probably bent over his guitar. Surely it is for that reason that he has not paid attention to his therapy.

It doesn't happen often, in fact, it rarely happens that you have to rush to his rescue, nor do you really like doing it. You don't know how he really feels about it.

Knowing where he keeps his medicines and knowing when he has to take them doesn't make you two a couple. Not even living under the same roof makes you a couple - especially if you are not alone - nor does sharing the same room often and willingly.

In fact, even though someone often mistakes you for two young lovers, you don't really know what Sal thinks of you. As close as you feel him, you are not sure that he feels as close to you; on the other hand, he doesn't seem to share the same kind of intimacy with you that he shares with Larry or Ashley, or at least that's what you think.

Besides, you've never seen his face.

Yours is a purely selfish thought, and you are ashamed of it, but you cannot command feelings.

You know that the first time Larry saw his best friend's face was an accident, with Ash instead, she was the one who took the initiative. In neither case was Sal's will to make him show himself. Yet, despite this deep down, inside you, something stung excruciatingly.

When your friend had lifted his mask, Sal that time was not angry at the intrusiveness - as perhaps you would have done -, nor had he tried to escape later. It is logically normal that he now has less trouble showing himself around them. Sweet Sal, always so loving, so perfect.

You shouldn't feel offended. You know well that for Sal the prosthesis he wears is in effect his face, so it's not that he wants to hide from you, you are simply already seeing him.

Yet you know that under that face another is hidden, however much it may be disfigured. You can't pretend it isn't.

That slight annoyance you have repeatedly tried to ignore has slowly grown, but only now have you dared to call it by name. Because you like Sal. You really like him. And when you have understood this, when you have found the strength to admit it to yourself, everything is put in the right place; the joys, the jealousies you felt and feel… and also that desire to see him, to see beyond, to really see him.

But you'll never force on him for it. As simple as it would be to lift that mask to him with an excuse, you will never force him to show himself to you, even if you die with the regret of never having seen him. It's not the same, it's not the face you want to see, it's the trust you want him to give you. But you can't expect it, and you know it.

You could live with this obsession that has become so present in recent weeks that you can hardly forget it. Maybe it's just your mind that doesn't want to focus on your duties, and then it always wanders to him, aimlessly.

"What is Sal's face like?"

You asked Larry one day without realizing it. You didn't really know what you were doing with him, you just know that for a moment your brain was shut down, and when you woke up you whispered that question.

The astonished look of your friend had poured into you a flood of emotions so sudden that they almost made you cry for no reason: you felt guilty, selfish, reckless, stupid, meddlesome and terribly fragile.

You immediately lowered your gaze to protect yourself, muttering an "sorry, forget it" but never would have canceled that damn question. You thought Larry might misjudge you for that, but instead his big hand pulled you to him, ruffling your hair affectionately, saying nothing.

He seemed to have understood more than you hoped for, yet ...

You shake your head and your hand tightens on the glass of water. You knock on the door and softly call Sal's name.

"Yes?"

His answer comes a few seconds later and you feel safe in opening the door slowly.

It's not exactly what you imagined; he is sitting on the bed, his legs stretched out on the mattress and his back resting against the headboard. The guitar is stored in the case, but in his hands he holds a book with a dark cover.

His kind gaze meets you beyond that face that is always the same. It's amazing how expressive that guy can be under that stiff mask. That damn mask. That lovely mask.

"You didn't take them, did you?"

You ask softly as you lift the medicines to show them. Your voice is cracked against your will, and you're praying he didn't notice.

"Oh ..." his eyes snap to the clock hanging on the wall "thanks, I was completely forgetting about it."

His voice is soft, almost cheerful. He is not bothered by your gesture, or he is very good at hiding it.

You watch him get up to go to the bedside table where you put what he needed. You don't pay much attention to it, you just sit on the bed, picking up the book he was reading, making sure you keep your thumb between the pages, so as not to lose the mark he left.

You read the title and a few lines of the presentation absently. You're just trying to buy time with him, and you know it.

You hear it as he handles the pill box and plastic, and hear the rattle of the straps as they unfasten to release his mouth.

You don't watch it, you're used to the process and now, despite you insisting on staying there, you don't really want to watch it.

You don't understand much about the book, you just know it's about music.

"Do you like it?"

You ask, trying to give a semblance of normality.

"Enough ... actually I'm just at the beginning."

You just nod, not really being able to continue the conversation. Your head feels too full confused, but extremely empty at the same time, and you don't know why.

"Hey ... is everything okay?"

His voice makes you jump, as if he has stung you with a needle. Such a simple question, but you suddenly feel discovered, as if he has just proved he can read your mind. As if you were obliged to tell him the truth.

"Yup!"

You exclaim immediately, and without realizing your head jerks towards him, as if you wanted to assure him of the truthfulness of your words.

You don't notice it right away. You see only his blue eyes for a moment, he is looking at you with concern, more than he should.

At first you wonder if your attitude really is that troubling, but then you start to focus.

His hand trembles slightly around the glass of water, and out of the corner of your eye you can see his mask lying on his pillow.

He swallows the medicine by throwing his head back slightly, perhaps to take a break from your gaze, or to escape a little from the agitation, the fear he is having.

Sal, Sal's face. You are seeing him, free from his hiding place, while he drinks.

Surely he is disfigured, excruciatingly deformed. It's not just a few scratches, it's more, it's a real pain, yet you don't notice it.

Again, this is Sal. You're really seeing Sal's face, the face you've always loved, beyond the mask, like his mask.

He sits next to you, he's trying to act naturally, you see him, but you still see his fingers shaking against the cardboard as he puts the tablet away in the box. He did it for you.

Emotions explode in your chest and you don't bother holding them back. There is no time for any misunderstandings. You are free with him, you always have been, you don't know how you forgot this.

"Sal ..."

You call him softly, and he turns to you despite the hesitation. A light "tell me" sweet and helpful pronounced by the spoiled and shy lips.

Silently, you curl up against him, your arms glide smoothly around his chest, expressing your need to feel him close.

He welcomes you - he always does.

"Hey ..." is a faint call of him, as you hide against his neck to prevent your happiness from going out too violently.

"Thanks..." This is all you can say in your voice damp with emotion. Long last. You are like a child in front of the much desired Christmas present. You are so happy that you could carry the whole world on your shoulders.

"Thank you!" You repeat him with more conviction, and finally your eyes return to his sky-colored gaze. So beautiful, always so loving even in his placid surprise.

He looks at your wet eyes, so wet with affection for him. Your smile is so warm and true, and his lungs slowly empty of all the accumulated tension.

He didn't think anyone could look at him that way, not without his mask. He did not think that a look could be so full of love in front of his disfigured face, yet it seems that you are seeing an angel.

You look at him with your eyes shining with all the admiration you feel, and not because you can lie by saying that you are seeing a beautiful face, but because Sal is the most beautiful person you know.

"I-" His voice tries to say something, but it is cut off; this time it's up to him to be overwhelmed by emotion.

You approach slowly, and the tip of your nose touches his, practically non-existent, but you don't care. You cannot resist the desire to cuddle him, to touch him, to perceive him in every possible aspect of that intimacy that he has decided to give you.

At first he has a little jerk back, of surprise rather than fear, and soon after he is there again, looking for that touch. He is extremely uncertain, but he still responds to your unspoken requests, slowly letting his forehead rest on yours.

He exhales, as if he is releasing a great weight, but he immediately stiffens when you, without realizing it, are approaching his lips.

You wake up immediately from your numbness, before making a probable mistake, and try to get away, at least as long as his arms allow you.

"Please…"

That prayer from him is so feeble yet so meaningful. His gaze asks you to do it, to continue, because he wants it but he is still afraid of taking the initiative. He is putting the responsibility on you, and rightly so.

He is tense, you see it from his swallow and feel it from his tense muscles around you, but it's okay.

You approach again, slowly, gradually lowering your eyelids, a little by instinct and a little in the hope of putting him more at ease.

Kissing him is a special experience, and you like it - you wanted it so much -.

You are not intrusive, it is just a delicate touch, but it persists, leaving him time for him.

When he reciprocates, he does it slowly, unsure of how to proceed, probably troubled by the feelings he can give you or maybe just agitated by the situation. Yet, slowly, you feel it melt against you.

Slightly open your eyes to see that he too has closed them, and then you allow yourself to return to enjoy that moment, more peaceful and serene.

You huddle more, between yourselves, and let the desire flow through you, without going too far, simply enjoying the presence of each other, in your breaths that merge.

When you separate you do it only with your lips, but your gaze remains affectionate and aware.

In the end, that is nothing more than the confirmation of everything: of your knowing what time he should take his medicines and of his letting you know, of his knowing your favorite drink and which shower gel you always use, of cooking one by one. other, of looking so much like a couple for a long time already - and some of it is also the result of Larry's long tongue letting out a few too many words with his best friend.

You watch him as he puts his mask back on, and now you don't care anymore, because you know what's under it, and if that's his face then you've seen his soul.

Suddenly all your happiness is back. You are so happy that not even the bickering between Larry and Todd coming from the kitchen can upset you.

It must be something about the finished milk.

"I'm going to get it!"

You hum loud enough for the two to hear it, as you jump three steps at the same time, happily landing down the stairs.

Sal's laughter reaches you, and you turn to look at him. You like to see him happy, whatever the nature of that happiness.

"I come with you."

He tells you coming to you, reaching out his hand so that you can take it.

You're pretty sure you won't be able to stop smiling all night long.

*The image above is an old drawing of mine

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #oneshot #request #larry johnson #sally face sal #gaming #video games

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omegawolverine · 4 years ago

Text

Braid Me a Home

summary:

"Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

A story about the Sleepy Bois being family, told through braids.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: child neglect, hurt/no comfort, canonical character death, implied/referenced mental health issues (like it’s obvious but there isn’t much detail to it), brief blood mentions (ik this fic sounds kinda angsty as hell but its not? imo its light angst)

a/n: first dream smp fic and im ALREADY projecting? christ. anyways. go easy on me pls this is far from my best work i just havent written a fic in like 5 months (more if you dont count the fucking chat fics) mm also i may have posted this like a week ago on ao3 just to test the waters and its already gotten way more comments and kudos than any fic of mine usually gets this early on so hopefully tumblr enjoys it too :]

—

When Wilbur Soot was born, he came out crying, as most babies do. Covered in vernix and blood, he weighed just barely above the seven-pound mark, gasping out sharp cries that only a parent could truly stand, or worse—love. Though he was the second baby born into the family that day, he was fussed over far more than he would ever be again.

Technoblade, on the other hand, had barely made a sound when he came out, a trail of blood smeared across his forehead, almost as if it was meant to be there. He made small noises that were more akin to confused mumbles, weakly grasping at his father’s hair when he was eventually passed on for the second child to be welcomed into the world.

Only when both boys were held in their father’s grasp did Wilbur quiet down, his soft head leaning into his father’s beard as he stared wide eyed at the boy across from him. Though they looked similar enough, Technoblade’s nose was squished further back into his face, appearing almost snout-like to Philza. Of course Wilbur noted this, wiggling until their father somehow managed to get them pressed right up against each other with minimal damage done. Though Techno never stopped squinting like an annoyed old man at Wilbur, he allowed the other to press a fist against his nose, his eyebrows unfurrowing just the slightest bit at the touch.

From that day on, Philza was the father of two twin boys—a loud boy who cried easily, but always calmed down for his older brother, and a rather monotone one, who’s face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl, unless said face was being smushed around by the younger. And things worked like that for a while. Not forever, but...a while.

—

Philza taught Wilbur to braid on a hot Monday afternoon.

It had been a rough day for the boy, though Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe he hadn’t slept enough between bedtime and the time Tommy had started crying again, the youngest boy’s crib being right beside his head and all. Though it might’ve seemed cruel from an outsider’s perspective, Wilbur had been the one to ask for it. Something about Tommy being his little brother and how he needed to teach the boy the ways of the world in the same way Techno had taught him—because apparently that was all Techno’s doing now, not Phil’s.

Regardless, Wilbur had been a bit too snippy for Phil’s liking that day, complaining about every little thing they did until finally, the day was over.

Well, as over as it could be with Techno leaving mid foam sword fight, an annoyed shout of ‘I quit!’ leaving his mouth before he snatched up Tommy’s carrier and brought him inside for god knows what reason.

It had only been around four P.M. by that time—too early for dinner, yet too late for Phil to really demand the boy stay outside and continue to entertain himself with a brother who was clearly not entertained himself.

Details aside, Phil isn’t really sure how they got to braiding. He just knows at some point they did and by the end of their outside time, just before the clock struck six, Wilbur had made two thick, messy braids in his hair. They stuck out awkwardly, looking all too similar to Pippi Longstocking’s iconic hairdo for his comfort, but he’d be damned if he took out the braids his son had so happily rushed inside to show his older brother before demanding to do his hair as well. After all, Wilbur didn’t have long enough hair for braids, but Technoblade sure as hell did. It was only at his shoulder blades back then, brunette curls wrapping around his narrow shoulders and thin arms like thick vines.

Wilbur had always enjoyed brushing it out with his fingers and putting cute, handmade clips or flowers in it at random, decorating the waves for his brother who was more than happy to let the boy do as he pleased. Though he would never admit it, Technoblade liked how it felt when Will played with his hair. He was always careful not to tug too hard, prioritizing the comfort of his other half more than the beauty of his work, as he so often referred to it.

So when Will had presented him with the mess that was his first two braids, he wasn’t hesitant at all to let the boy practice on him. Instead, he walked to the couch with a small smile, removing his glasses gently and getting comfortable before his brother plopped down into the space behind him. Long legs draped over long legs with no warning, thighs pressed together as if they were meant to be like that all along—and they might as well have been, for how often they did this.

Phil had watched them from the doorway in content silence, Tommy sitting behind him in a wooden high chair looking bored, but not making a fuss for once. And as he left that doorway to begin dinner, he listened to their muffled conversation and soft bursts of laughter with a small smile on his lips, for he knew things wouldn’t always be this way. They would have to grow up eventually, and when they did, things would change. Phil could only hope it was for the better.

—

When Tommy turns nine, Wilbur teaches him to braid under circumstances not too different from the ones he had learned under himself.

Well. Not too too different.

Philza and Technoblade had been...busy as of late. In the house for three days, out for a week, in for a week, out for three more, over and over and over again. Wilbur had become more like a father to Tommy in recent months than he should’ve been, his fourteenth birthday fast approaching as their father took Techno out for yet another job, one that Wilbur couldn’t come on because he was too fucking weak to do anything Techno could do, too fucking stupid to learn all the techniques Techno did, lacking all the strength and agility his older sibling possessed, like the useless prick he was-

Right. This is about Tommy.

When Tommy was nine, his hair rested gently against his collarbones in the exact same cut and color as their father wore. If Wilbur was a lesser man, he would’ve hated the kid for it, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see what a selfish git their father truly was yet. All he knew was that their dad was busy a lot and that, for some reason, Techno needed to go with him. Apparently, that was enough for him to keep holding onto the idea that one day, the man would stay longer and maybe, just maybe, show him some of the same care that his older brother did.

If Wilbur was a better man, he would tell Tommy the truth. He would tell him all about the way Philza had called him useless in a fight, forcing him to instead stay home and care for a child while still being one himself. He would mention how Philza had given him no instructions on how to care for a developing child, how he left out key details to parenting on his own as a goddamn thirteen-year-old, yet remembered to tell him things would be better this way because god forbid he does his fucking job as a father for anyone but Technoblade—

Who he missed. He missed Technoblade, his other half, so fucking bad it hurt sometimes—so bad it left him gasping for breath at two A.M., his head pounding in tandem with his uneven heartbeat, lungs burning as his snot and tears soaked into his brother’s cold, cold sheets. And it made him feel fucking pathetic because the truth of the matter was that...Techno had left him behind too. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the older boy, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t hate Philza either, if he were to be honest with himself, but it was a lot easier to pretend he did when his father was the one putting them all in this position to begin with.

So, Tommy was nine when he learned how to braid.

Phil had promised him and Techno would be back Tuesday morning.

It was Wednesday afternoon.

Tommy didn’t fucking understand, and as frustrating as it was that the prick decided to take it out on Wilbur, he couldn’t blame him. Who else was he supposed to take this shit out on? Certainly not the man who had yet to return.

Wilbur had started the braid as a way to distract him. It was simple, really—tell him you know something he doesn’t and that he won’t get to know if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and listen.

When he had started tugging the boy’s hair back from his face, his immediate reaction was to jerk away, swatting at the hands that hovered over his shoulders. This only happened once or twice more before he let it happen naturally, his posture stiff as Wilbur ran his fingers through the boy’s hair with practiced ease.

Though it may not have seemed like it, Tommy was significantly more averse to touch than Techno had ever been. The only reason Techno even seemed averse to it was because of his hesitance to initiate, something he and Wilbur had discussed in depth. Rejection was one of the few fears Technoblade truly had and Wilbur held that fact close to his heart, ready to die with it if need be. Tommy, on the other hand? He was very particular about where and when and why someone was touching him, and it had taken Wilbur a long time to get used to that fact. But, he wasn’t about to make his little brother uncomfortable just so he could be happy and, eventually, he learned the ins and outs of how to touch TommyInnit without causing issue.

Pulling a few of the shorter strands towards the front of Tommy’s face loose, Will separated the blonde’s hair into three sections. They were rather small, what with how thin and short his hair was, it just barely being long enough to even have a proper braid in it, but Wilbur knew he could make it work.

“Now, Toms, you gotta listen to me here, because I can’t show you this bit, yeah? Phil and Tech aren’t here, and my hair is too short, so you’ll just have to feel it out for now, but...this is how you braid hair-” Wilbur had said in a soft voice, brushing the pad of his thumb over the boys neck slowly to ease the tension out of his shoulders. The effect was immediate, the boy slouching forward as if he had just noticed he was holding himself so sternly. Smiling softly, Wilbur instructed him on how to weave the strands together, answering questions and pulling lightly at Tommy’s hair so he could feel exactly where everything went. After he was done, Tommy had reached back to feel the bumps in his hair, all his earlier anger seemingly gone as he gave a small smile. And then he tried it himself.

Of course he got a bit of help at first, Wilbur’s larger hands guiding his own with gentle corrections, but after that Tommy worked on it alone, his older brother watching in silence from a patch of grass beside the porch step.

That night, Tommy and Wilbur slept in Techno’s bed, a soft, blue blanket wrapped tightly around them. And if another body woke them up at some point that night, shoving its way into the mess of limbs, their chest pressed right up against the youngest boy’s back, then that was only for them to know.

—

At eleven years old, Tommy takes a pair of scissors to his hair. With flushed cheeks and salty lips, his hands shaking and his eyes foggy, he cuts, cuts, cuts, until he can no longer braid his hair—until he can no longer look like fucking Phil.

Even though Wilbur had once said he hated Tommy’s long hair—hated how similar he and their dad looked—he felt like crying as he ran his fingers through the uneven strands. He didn’t tell his brother this though, instead grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his freckled forehead. In a fierce whisper, Wilbur had said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Tommy. So fucking proud.”

Tommy never forgets the way he felt that day. He doesn’t forget Wilbur’s words either.

—

When Wilbur loses his last life, Technoblade tells Tommy to braid his hair.

It wasn’t a question either, but a demand forced out between gritted teeth, his face red, his nose stuffy and his lashes wet with unshed tears. Still, his words were clear as day.

“Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

Tommy sniffled, but did as he was told.

Maybe it was because he was too tired to argue with the only person he even had left. Maybe it was because he could tell Technoblade was mad at their father for the first time in his life, and he knew how bad his first time had felt. Or, maybe, it was just because he knew Techno fucking cared. Nobody else seemed to, but he knew Techno did and...that was enough for him.

As long as someone else cared—as long as it was fucking Technoblade—that was enough for him.

Just as Tommy had finished the braid, curling his finger around the light pink tail that tied the whole thing off, Techno yanked it forward. Before he could even register that the hair had left his hand, the older boy had taken an axe to the top of it, letting the rest of his hair fall around his face in uneven curls. Though it was a good ten minutes of work wasted, Tommy couldn’t say a damn thing as he watched Techno pocket the braid, muttering a thank you and heading in the direction of Wilbur’s unofficial grave.

In that moment, he felt relief for the first time in a long while.

—

Wilbur Soot was born covered in vernix and blood, weighing just barely above the seven-pound mark, and he came into the world much like he left it. Everyone had heard his cries—even if they weren’t there, even if they didn’t know him well—they had saw the way he spiraled, desperate and afraid and paranoid, searching for help, but never receiving enough.

And though he was the second child born, he left the world first, returning in a yellow sweater with a small braid tucked behind his ear. He didn’t really know why he had one, but he remembered braiding Techno’s hair and he remembered teaching Tommy how to do his own and he remembered, he remembered, he remembered the braids.

#dream smp #/dsmp #dsmp #sleepy bois inc #sbi #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #ph1lza #fic #fics #fanfic #fanfiction #the dream smp #shit self #dami writez #/rp #dsmp fic

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tsrookie · 4 years ago

Note

For the hc asks, what do you think would happen if at some point in Ethan and MC's future, Ethan was the one in some kind of serious accident/illness? There's lots of fics where something happens to MC, and obviously we have canon with the attack, but I'm curious about your thoughts on the opposite happening

Oof. Thanks for the ask anon! (This just turned into something completely different from what I had initially planned, so it’s a bit lengthy)

——————————

MC’s halfway through her third year. It’s an absolute pain with Leland around. He prioritises finding a cure for Caroline over everything else, so the diagnostics team is unable to give their fullest to the patients who actually need them. He keeps adding more facilities to the hospital, so the construction work seems never ending at this point.

She arrives at the hospital for her night shift, when she hears a loud explosion. She looks up in horror and sees a room on the sixth floor in flames.

Dread settles into the pit of her stomach as she rushes into the hospital, barging past security. Ethan had texted her just a few minutes ago, asking her to meet him on that very same floor.

Ethan feels a sharp pain in his forehead, and realises that he’s bleeding. He keeps little Jess close to him as she cries in fear. The poor kid was searching for her parents, and he had offered to help. They had reached the gas cylinder room, when Ethan saw the sparks.

The newly connected wires had broken, and the sparks were flying dangerously close to the gas canisters. He rushed into a nearby room and slammed the door shut, with a terrified Jess in his arms.

The loud explosion sent him hurtling to the the opposite side of the room. Jess clinged on to him for dear life, her fearful cries muffled by the roaring fire.

He takes a moment to recover from the initial shock, then his doctor instincts kick in. He lays Jess down and asks her to tell him if she feels any pain. She cries out loud when he checks her leg. She’s bleeding profusely due to a deep gash, and there was only so much pain she could take.

He takes off his coat and ties it around her leg to control the bleeding. She frightfully asks him if they were going to be safe. He takes a deep breath to try and nullify his own pain. MC’s image flashes through his mind, and the throbbing ache takes a backseat. He nods determinedly to Jess, internally vowing to get back to MC, no matter what it took.

He scans his surroundings. He sees the fire slowly spreading to the rest of the floor, and the walls threatening to crack and fall.

He manages to locate a door amongst the smoke across the corridor. He picks Jess up and tells a silent prayer for them to safely get out of there.

He narrowly misses a huge canister by seconds. He tries to calm himself down for Jess’ sake, but finds it incredibly hard to do given the hazardous environment. He feels his vision grow blurry as the smoke threatens to overwhelm him, but snaps out of it when Jess lets out another cry.

He finally reaches the door, and almost falls to his knees gasping for air. He staggers down the stairs, just as another explosion reaches his ears.

He hears loud shouts from the opposite side of the corridor. He can barely register whose voice it was before he finally collapses. The last thing he sees is a flash of auburn.

MC yells orders to everyone nearby, terrified at the sight of Ethan’s unconscious form. She drops to her knees and checks his pulse, all while trying to get him to wake up.

The nurses carry a passed out Jess to a nearby patient room, as more doctors arrive to place Ethan on a stretcher. Zaid holds MC back from going with them, despite her desperate cries.

Miraculously, he hasn’t suffered any major injuries. Just a few minor burns and cuts on his arms and legs. He passed out mainly due to smoke inhalation, due to which he was to be placed on the ventilator for a while. MC heaves out a sigh of relief when she’s informed that Ethan would make a full recovery in a week or two.

Jess is alright as well. Three more people suffered injuries due to the accident, but none fatal.

Ethan wakes up to MC holding his hand and stroking his hair. She doesn’t have to say a word for him to understand how he scared the living daylights out of her. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying and lack of sleep.

She gives him a tired smile, filled with relief and love. He gives her hand a weak squeeze, and she presses a soft kiss to it.

She gets into the bed, careful not to touch any of his wounds. Kissing his forehead, she settles in for a much required nap, with his hands intertwined with hers.

Once he’s able to talk, he spends an entire hour with MC before seeing anyone else. He asks her about Jess, and is relieved to know that she’s recovering well.

He apologises to MC for putting her through the pain and fear he had once experienced. She silences him with a kiss, and tells him that none of it was his fault. She assures him that the only thing that mattered to her was that he had saved a little girl’s life, and gotten himself out of there.

When Ethan is asked whether he’ll be able to speak at a board meeting regarding the incident, he asks for MC to speak on his behalf. She protests, saying that she’s a mere third-year resident, but relents when Ethan tells her she’s the only one he trusts enough to have his best interests by heart.

At the meeting, Leland doesn’t own up to his mistakes, and constantly keeps emphasising on the fact that mistakes and accidents take place. He offers to compensate for the losses with more money.

When the board tells him that this isn’t something he can easily fix with a mount load of cash, and point out the various smaller mishaps that have taken place since his acquisition of Edenbrook, he shrugs it off and tells them that Edenbrook has had plenty of accidents in the past, and no further measures were taken after the attack the previous year. Something inside MC snaps at that moment.

“No. No, you don’t get to talk about what happened last year. You weren’t there when this hospital lost two of their finest members. You weren’t there to see how everyone suffered from their deaths. You don’t know how much Danny and Bobby meant to everyone in this room. Travis Perry, the one who set the gas free, died before any further action could be taken. You don’t know the fear of every single doctor who worked to find the cure. You don’t know about how much I personally went through watching two of my friends die, and one of them nearly. You don’t know the physical and mental toil it took on the victims. You. Have. No idea. About any of that. What happened last year wasn’t just an accident due to negligence on the hospital’s part, it was a textbook definition of an assassination attack. So yeah, you don’t get to compare what happened last year to you turning a blind eye to the problems of the hospital, because of the extra renovations you made. If someone had died in this...”

Her eyes burn with a fire no one had ever witnessed before. She takes a deep breath, trying not to think of what could’ve happened to Ethan, before continuing at a shell-shocked Leland, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“If someone had died in this fire, it would’ve been entirely on your shoulders, for failing to properly supervise the constructions. This isn’t the way things are supposed to work at a hospital, Leland. You want the hospital to become a premier research center, but did you honestly think about that when the hospital was sinking? Did you attend that charity gala last year, which was our last chance of saving the hospital? Did you find the need to donate money when we needed the most? You want a cure for Caroline, and that’s understandable. But you can’t keep making changes around here, and then fail to oversee the transitions properly. So please, stop trying to say that what just happened, wasn’t your fault.”

She finally sits down, with every single person in the room in complete awe. Naveen glances at her direction with a glimmer of pride. She isn’t an intern who used to have trouble navigating the corridors anymore. She’s a doctor who knows her place in the hospital, a member of the most prestigious diagnostics team in the country, and she knew damn well what was right and what was wrong.

MC knows that she could possibly lose her job due to her outburst, yet the looks on the faces of the board members tell her otherwise. The rest of the meeting passes with Leland finally admitting to his negligence over the more minor details, which have cause issues since he came to the hospital. They agree to have a few more meetings to discuss the measures to be taken to fix the damages of the accident, and Leland’s administration.

Naveen walks up to her after the meeting, and tells her that she technically wouldn’t be in any trouble, since she was speaking on Ethan’s behalf, and he would’ve done the exact same thing she had done. And no one would dare speak up against Ethan Ramsey. She laughs at the truthfulness of the statement.

“But I never want to become a carbon copy of him at any point. That would be terrible.”

“Now what would be so bad about that?”

“He terrorises the interns! I never want to become that strict.”

“Well... he hasn’t been terrorising them that much recently. Probably since he knows a certain someone was an intern when he first fell for them.”

She smiles sheepishly, as they both walk towards Ethan’s room.

“I’m really glad he’s okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if...” She trails off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

“I know, MC. Me too.”

Once she reaches Ethan’s room, her lips quirk up into a smile as she finds him trying to pass time on social media. After a quick kiss, he asks her about the meeting. She relays the entire thing, and needless to say, he’s highly impressed.

He tells her to go home after a while, but she tenderly replies that she wasn’t going anywhere. He stayed by her side when she was a patient, and she wasn’t about to leave him when the tables were turned.

Ethan sighs, and pulling MC close, he finally drifts off into a peaceful slumber.

——————————

A/N: I gave it a happy ending!😅 I know this was more of a mini-fic than a hc, but I couldn’t help myself! Hope it made sense, ‘cause I have no clue about any construction work whatsoever.

Also, thank you so much for all the requests you’ve been sending! I’ve got plenty of stuff to work on now, so thanks a lot for that💙

Taglist: @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @starrystarrytrouble @dxnicaramsey @decadentwinnerjudgedream @imonlybibecauseofethanramsey @rookiefromedenbrook @bratzlahela @eramsey28 @the-pale-goddess @ohchoices @wellhelloramsey @pitchblackstars @mvalentine @swiftlydarcy @utterlyinevitable @angela8754 @akshara16 @sushiharrington @drethanramslay @lion-ess24 @whippedforethanfreakingramsey @choicesstan1 @aarisa-frost @drariellevalentine @perriewinklenerdie @blossomanarchy @nikki-2406 @stateofgracious @takemyopenheart @open-heart-ramseyyy @maurine07 @udishaman @queencarb @ethanramseylover @rookiemarsswiftie @aworldoffandoms

Let me know if you wanna be added to or removed from the taglist!

#open heart #ethan ramsey #open heart second year #dr ethan ramsey x mc #ethan jonah ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #playchoices #ethan ramsey fanfiction #mercy writes

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