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ambassadorarlert · 1 year ago

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HEAT WAVES... (Armin Arlert x afab!reader)

0.6 AS ABOVE… (main menu | spotify) ↳ summary: armin does something special. // sasha starts getting curious. ↳ warnings: so much fluff it'll make you sick, minor mentions of violence, flower language. ↳ genre: comfort, comedy, fluff ↳ word count: 6k

“Woosh… woosh…”

All was quiet in the girls barracks. Crickets sung outside of the window, the pale light of the moon high in the shy offered relief from the darkness of the night.

“Woosh… woosh…”

The layout in the barracks were rows and rows of bunk beds with a nightstand in between each one that housed a single oil lamp. To your right was Mikasa, who slept on her back as if she were sleeping in a coffin. Above her was Sasha. Her foot hung off the side of her bunk, beckoning to be grabbed or tickled. To your left was Christa, and Ymir, who snored loudly on the top bunk.

The sound of whooshing had woken you up. You rubbed an eye, looking around for the source. Everyone around you seemed comfortable and cozy, out cold from a hard day of training. After another quiet ‘whoosh,’ you pinned that the sounds were coming from above you. You kept your eyes half shut to retain your sleepiness so you could easily go back to bed, and climbed the ladder on the side of your bunk.

Annie laid on her back, one arm out from under her covers and rested above her head. She looked just as intimidating asleep as she was when she was awake. Annie had a bad habit of talking in her sleep. Sometimes, they were incoherent sentences but most of the time she made the silly “whooshing” sound effects.

Annie had talked in her sleep since she started cadet training, and you figured she had done it her entire life. You always wondered what an aloof person like her dreamt about. You asked once, but she never gave an outright answer. It only added to her cool mysteriousness.

You waited less than thirty seconds to catch her in the act and “whoosh” again under her breath. With a pillow in hand, you whacked her with it. Annie jolted upright, sputtering confused and dazed.

“What was that for?” She hissed at you.

“You’re talking in your sleep again.” You informed her.

Annie looked around her. Her eyes were blown out wide, lips turned upside down into a different kind of frown from the one she wore during the day. She looked around, getting a grip back into her waking reality.

“Are you okay?” You tested.

Perhaps she was having a nightmare, and smacking her with a pillow wasn’t a good method to wake her up. You immediately felt guilty.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry.” She mumbled.

Annie turned on her side, facing away from you now, and cuddled back under the thin sheet. You returned to your bunk, settling down on your back. You closed your eyes to get back to sleep. Not even five minutes had passed until you heard,

“Whoosh… Whooooooshhhhhhhh…”

The morning was warm and breezy. The sky above was just beginning to turn blue. Shades of yellow swirling behind the clouds. The sun had not come up yet but here you, Sasha, and Mikasa were, ready to train.

It was Mikasa’s idea. Now that everyone had returned home to Paradis, it was time to fall back into the usual routine. Mikasa used training to blow off the stream Eren left her seething in, instead of laying in bed and rotting. You and Sasha woke well before the crack of dawn to accompany and support her.

Two months had gone by, and neither of you missed a single day.

“Om…” Sasha hummed. She increased her volume slowly with each meditative mantra.

Before physically training the body, Mikasa stressed the importance of training the mind. For forty-five minutes the three of you did peaceful meditation. Mikasa led since this was her routine. She’d find a comfortable spot and you all would fall into a higher state of consciousness.

“Om…”

“Sasha, quit it.” Mikasa chuckled.

You kept your eyes closed as you focused on finder inner peace. There was no way you could now. Sasha exclaimed out loud, pouncing on you and Mikasa’s shoulder.

“Look, look, look! There he goes!” Sasha excitedly hushed.

Just a few feet away, Niccolo walked to the mess hall. It was unclear if he knew you three were there and watching him or not. All you could make of him was the back of his curly blonde hair, white chef's coat, and the crate he was carrying. You put the pieces together and assumed he was beginning the breakfast shift in the kitchen.

“For a Marleyan, isn’t he dreamy? I wonder what he’ll be making this morning!” Sasha sighed whimsically.

You weren’t completely sure if she was drooling over Niccolo himself, or the idea of his cooking.

Sasha was completely head over heels for this guy, and you could understand why. Niccolo was relatively good looking, but the fact that food was Sasha’s love language and Niccolo was a chef boosted his score. She had fallen stomach first for the grumpy and apprehensive Marleyan that was hired to work in the kitchen temporarily, both of them forgetting that he was technically a prisoner. Niccolo couldn’t hide how he had begun to soften around Sasha. Whatever he cooked, Sasha ate it and was always given a sample before it was properly served.

No better match could have been made.

“For you.” Mikasa chortled.

The wet morning dew from the grass dampened your clothes, especially on your butt. It had gotten to a point which you couldn’t tolerate anymore. Having enough of Sasha’s lustful shenanigans, you quickly stood up on your feet.

“Can we get started now?” You asked.

You extended your arms out, pulling Mikasa and Sasha to their feet as well.

Sasha mostly kept up with her archery and shooting skills, since she was the kill shot of the squad. The sound of her emptying her magazine didn’t bother you as much anymore. You didn’t need to see how she had obliterated the target dummy with bullets and arrows. Wherever Sasha’s target was— between the eyes, center chest, or the groin for giggles, she hit it with impeccable accuracy.

You liked to imagine Sasha as a little girl with a crossbow in her hand, proudly displaying the game she had hunted. She always kept you entertained with her childhood stories about growing up in the forest. You could recall how ecstatic she was when she had conquered that wild boar in the forest of Trost District. Sasha had brought it down with a single arrow to the skull. That was when you truly realized how amazing she was.

You couldn’t break your eyes away from Mikasa for a moment to admire Sasha’s damage. One distraction would cost you your face. With boxing gloves on her hands and safety pads on yours, Mikasa boxed you with no remorse. You dug your feet in the dirt to keep your balance upon her impacts, focusing on her flying gloves to protect yourself. Mikasa’s eyes were cold and dissociated as she pounded your palms. You and her were together often enough, you had a stellar idea of her routines and habits. Still, you wondered what the hell she ate that made her so strong. Or, perhaps, she was simply born effortlessly talented.

From your peripheral vision, you saw how Mikasa raised her foot for a kick. Without hesitation, you swatted her ankle away. Mikasa caught her own balance. She never fell, slipped, or tripped over anything.

She had barely broken a sweat. This moment of lapse made you realize just how far you both had moved from your original position. A good ten feet or so. Mikasa was slowly backing you into a corner, she always had the advantage.

When training for the day had drawn to a close, Mikasa suggested that your living quarters would be the ideal spot to recuperate and relax. You agreed, saying you had nothing planned for the day.

As the three of you slowly approached your living apartments, an object in front of your door came clearer into view. You all stared at the wrapped bouquet of blue Campanulas perfectly placed in the corner of the doorframe. They were delicately protected in white parchment paper.

“Someone left you flowers.” Mikasa announced, her tone comically flat as she pointed her finger at the conspicuous gift.

“Who are they from?” Sasha incredulously gawked.

You carefully picked them up and inhaled the petals. They smelled divine, a hint of Earth still lingered which meant they had been freshly selected and dropped off not too long ago. The gag was that you already knew who had left them. It was a typical token of affection and appreciation that Armin would present you with a flower, or a small bundle he had chosen for you. He also liked to place a few of them in your hair. Then, later, you pressed them into your personal journal for safe keeping.

Buried deep within the stems was a small note card. You plucked it and read the face silently to yourself.

10am. Same place, was all it said, written in Armin’s tiny penmanship.

During those two months since you had returned from Marley and adjusted back to regular life, you still hadn’t told a soul about you and Armin. Since Mikasa was healing from a broken heart, it felt insensitive for two of her best friends to be open about being in a relationship with each other. You and Armin didn’t exclusively agree to continue your low key relationship on those terms, it just seemed clear that now was not the right time to broadcast it.

The honeymoon phase of your relationship was still buzzing. Since you and Armin couldn’t be out and about in the way you liked, the routine you had become accustomed to on Marley had bled into your lives on Paradis; sneaking through the halls at odd hours of the night and averting a wider audience of wandering eyes, letting your eyes linger on each other longer than normal, holding hands and playing footsie under the table.

Being in a secret relationship had its perks and downsides. It was fun to lurk in the shadows, feeling as if you were doing something you shouldn’t. You never had a rebellious phase. Slipping out with Armin and creeping back in the small hours of the morning, hushed quickies in empty closets, keeping your own secrets and knowing things about each other no one else knew was far too exhilarating.

The only negative perspective was that you couldn’t shout from the rooftops on how madly in love you were with Armin already, previous years of undercover pining like a juvenile included. Armin had made you feel so special with his words of affirmation, tender acts of service, and romantic quality time. He was supernaturally kind, always considerate of your feelings and carefully choosing his words. He had literally given you the clothes off his back, letting you wear his heavy Survey Corps coat if you weren’t adorned in yours and the night was chilly as you roamed the streets together after dark. He picked up easily on your likes and dislikes, what your favorite anything was, and how you expressed displeasurement by the way you turned your nose up at certain things.

You had been awake for so long, it started feeling later in the day than it actually was. Sasha had a watch, you grabbed her wrist to read the time which read nine forty-five.

“Oh, shoot! I completely forgot I had something to do this morning after training!” You falsely gasped at the time.

Sasha blinked. Her first thought was how it was unlike you to forget anything, especially if it was something important. Mikasa spoke, but Sasha didn’t hear. Your suspicious body language was too overwhelming not to pay attention to. Sasha saw the note you slipped into your pocket, and the way you cradled the bouquet closer to you as you fumbled with your key. It seemed like putting a key in a lock was an exceedingly difficult task given how you began to tremble like a leaf in the wind. She watched you cautiously.

“Aw, that’s a shame. I was hoping you’d touch up my eyebrows.” Mikasa pouted. She traced a finger over them as she thought about it.

You quickly unlocked your door and briefly stepped inside. Mikasa and Sasha didn’t follow, as you’d be leaving anyway. Sasha stuck her head through the door, she watched as you chucked a smaller and more decayed bunch of flowers into the trash and added the fresh flowers to the same vase.

Y/N get flowers regularly… Interesting, Sasha thought to herself.

“I’ll do them later, I promise.” You said, closing and locking up your apartment.

“You said that last week!” Mikasa protested.

You looked in between both Mikasa and Sasha. Mikasa’s unkempt brows were bent together in the middle in a dissatisfied frown. You had been putting off helping Mikasa with some of her beauty regime because any other amount of free time you had was spent mostly with Armin. You glanced at Sasha, eyebrows turned in the opposite way. She had hers quirked up, her eyes shamelessly looking you up and down. They both stared at you intensely, and you knew if you lingered a second longer they’d start asking questions.

“I’ll see you guys later!” You caved, not being able to handle the silent pressure. On that note, you scurried off down the hall, not looking back as you exited quickly. Sasha and Mikasa stood for a brief second in silence. They exchanged odd glances, knowing they were both thinking the same thing. What’s with them?

“I can do your eyebrows for you!” Sasha offered.

“After what happened last time, there’s no way I’m letting you that close to my face ever again.” Mikasa spat out.

The sounds of horses snorting amongst themselves along with the smell of hay lingered in the air. Each stall was occupied with either a single horse or a mother and her foal. Whenever you went to the stables on unofficial scouting business, you tried your best to never arrive empty handed, whether it be a crunchy carrot or a nice head pat and a scratch. You offered the new colt your friendship, petting along its little face, and paid brief attention to some of your friends' horses as well.

You briefly scanned the stables for a sign that Armin might be here, but all was silent and vacant. To pass the time you thought you would visit your own horse.

You walked further down the isle of horses, each one snorting and making noises to themselves as they stood around in tranquility. Walking by one particular stall, you heard an all too familiar sound.

“Psst.”

Doubling back your steps, you saw that it was Armin tending to his own horse.

“There you are!” You exclaimed.

You briefly eyed Armin up and down. He was in rather casual clothes, accepted with a pair of his tougher boots he wore for working in. His horse also had a saddle strapped to her back, ready for an adventure.

“What’s with the get up?” You wanted to know.

“I was going to the forest this morning. I w-wanted to know if you would like to come along with me?” The words spilled from Armin’s lips like an accident that was waiting to happen. His sky-blue eyes were drawn open wide, wholeheartedly hoping you would agree to his invitation. He rubbed his palms together, a sheepish mannerism you realized he had.

The smile that slowly began to spread on your lips lifted the heavy weight in Armin’s chest. He logically knew that he had no reason to be nervous about rejection, as you had never denied him before. You had alway been open to his ideas he shared, always met up on time when you arranged meet-ups, and you never pushed him away whenever Armin started poking and prodding at buttons that he knew would make you turn to liquid in his hands. Even so, the potential chance of being turned down lingered involuntarily.

“Okay!” You didn’t even miss a beat.

Armin released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He grinned ear to ear, ready to immediately set out. You didn’t notice the rucksack in the corner until Armin grabbed it. He wasted no time gathering his bag and strapping it to the side of the saddle. Armin held out his hand, obviously waiting for you to take it. His hands were usually soft and just a little sweaty, but you didn’t mind it that much. Armin assisted you in helping you jump up on his horse’s back, hoisting you up by your foot. You could mount a horse on your own, but you allowed him to be a gentleman. - The Scout Regiment’s headquarters was stationed in Trost, and had been for a few years. The pastures from Wall Rose and outward had been completely wiped of titans, thanks to Hange and Eren’s ingenious guillotine, thus making expeditions outside of the walls a breeze. With Armin taking the reins and you sitting behind him, you both trotted off of Scout property and into the streets.

It surely didn’t take long to reach the gate of Wall Rose, the only thing keeping civilization and the nearest stretch of wilderness apart. You never would have imagined that you would be able to travel back and forth, and still remain alive. This would be your first time going beyond the walls, not necessarily alone, but without a parade of scouts. You took a moment to look up at the wall and at the people around you.

You already knew that the walls were made from titans, but your brain just couldn’t imagine how they’d all fit together inside. The haunting face of a titan peering through the brick, or what you used to believe was brick, never left your imagination. A flock of birds flew overhead, making shadows while they flew in front of the sun.

“State your name, regiment, and business going outside of Wall Rose.” The Garrison guard demanded. He held out his hand promptly to inspect Armin’s exit permit to be outside of the wall on his own.

“Cal, you already know me.” Armin sighed, obviously annoyed. He reached into his back pocket to present his permit.

“No exceptions, Arlert!” Cal spat back.

You relaxed your posture and waited. You looked out at the people around you. Since there were no titans outside of the wall, the Garrison didn’t have much to look out for. Not that their jobs were back breaking anyway. A few guys in their short tan leather jackets sat around a wooden crate, playing cards and passing around a flask. They were all painstakingly bored, because the guard currently monitoring the lack of traffic through the gate was giving Armin a particularly rough time.

“This looks fake.” Cal huffed, holding the permit high in the sunlight to spot any forgeries.

“Well, it’s not.” Armin responded dryly.

You locked eyes with a woman. She was blonde, her hair had a dustier hue to it, compared to Armin’s yellow undertone. She sported the knee length green coat with a unicorn in the center of the crest, indicating she was of the Military Police. Being an MP was your first goal once you joined the cadet corps, but as time went on and with the more friends you made, and the more you changed your ideals, you decided to stick it out with the scouts. A decision you were glad that you chose, even through all the disaster and tragedy the scouts had to endure and will experience more of.

Everyone knows two things about the Military Police; they’re lousy at their jobs, and the women were gorgeous. The woman you were having an unintentional staring contest with was no exception.

You politely smiled at her, a favor which was not returned back to you. Her lips were thinned in an expression of judgment and you were close enough together to see some emotions in her eyes. She scanned you up and down as if she knew already knew what your greatest sin was. Your smile fell from your lips, no longer seeing a point in trying to be nice. She turned away with a roll in her eye, and carried on with the squiffy men seated around her. You watched her out of the side of your eye as she twiddled a piece of her short hair and flirtatiously laughed above everyone else.

The screeching chains of the gate being lifted caught your attention. Since they weren’t in a formal formation, As the outer gate to Wall Rose was lifted to let you pass, you could see the green fields as far as the eye could see. A new and fresh gust of wind blew right through you. You got your arms around Armin’s abdomen and held on, knowing Armin would tear off for the open field. Armin snapped the reins, and broke speed in record time.

You held Armin tightly as Armin’s horse booked it by his command. The sky had never been so blue and the grass had never been greener. You could actually admire the land you lived on now that blood didn’t stain the ground, and steam from destroyed titans didn’t fog up the sky. You thought back to the very first time you had gone outside of Wall Maria, bound for what seemed at the time to be the edge of the Earth. Life really was beautiful when it wasn’t polluted with death and destruction.

The nearest set of trees wasn’t far, only a half an hour ride. Armin rode up to a heavy patch of the deepest pine and juniper green trees that stood well over eighty meters tall. Their leaves rustled in the wind, a few falling high from the branches above. Armin hopped down from the saddle, tying his horse off on the trunk of the tree. His blond hair glistened in the sun. Armin’s hair had three different dimensions of color, a few pieces around his face and temples had a different texture compared to the rest of his head. Sweat had curled the hair framing around his face, his cheeks and the tip of his nose flushed darker than usual.

“So,” You breathed once your feet hit the ground. “We’re here. Now what?” You asked.

All around you, there was nothing. No villages or homes, not even empty or abandoned ones. The land was flat and appeared to continue forever if you didn’t know that the ocean was on the other side of the distant horizontal line. The wind was silent and warm.

Armin took a few steps closer, the grass squishing under his boot. His eyes trickled over your face, talking in all of your beautiful details in the organic sunlight. Armin kept eye contact with you while he sneakily grabbed your hand and held it politely in his. Even through his fingertips, Armin radiated kindness. He gently pulled you towards the man-made gap in between the trees. There was a trail that led through the shadows.

“Come on, I want to show you something.” His voice was low and enticing. There was a bass in his quiet tone that made your ear drums tickle.

You glanced over his shoulder to look through the massive tree trunks. There were glimmers of light that came through the branches. Looking deeper in, you could see that it was dark and shady. Ominous and suspicious. A shiver went through your spine and a reflex to wonder if there were titans lurking about.

“Are you sure there are no titans out here?” You asked.

You moved your feet apprehensively as Armin continued to tug you closer. You felt silly for asking considering you were on the expedition to double check that all titans beyond Wall Rose had actually been eliminated.

“I swear.” Armin promised.

With his word of honor, you grasped Armin’s hand tighter and brought yourself to his side. Your fingers locked in with his while you walked into the forest.

Comfortable silence blew through every now and then, but Armin mostly talked while you listened. This seemed to be your usual dynamic. He asked how your morning training went, if you were tired and if you needed a break from walking. Armin filled you in on his morning. He finally finished that book he had been reading for most of the month and how he didn’t like the ending, the ideas he proposed to Hange and how he was looking forward to seeing some of them come to fruition. The railroad was almost complete, and was about to kickstart a new project. Armin thought it would be beneficial for the population inside the walls to construct a major institution where the sick and injured could be treated. If there was one place the severely ill and wounded could heal, there would be more free space for minor illnesses and grievances in local doctors offices. That way, health care could be provided easily and evenly. You thought it was a fantastic idea.

The forest wasn’t as threatening as it seemed. The sun came through the canopy of the trees beautifully, creating an ethereal environment. You spotted a bush of Campanulas along the matted dirt trail. One section was missing several flowers. You put two and two together. Armin had been here earlier, but why? With the rucksack hanging on one shoulder, items inside of it clinking together, you knew he had to be up to something.

Jumping over fallen branches and bending under low branches, Armin began to lead you uphill. The mourning doves were still hooting softly in the distance. Armin stopped abruptly. He popped up directly in front of you. He already had a solid grip on one of your hands. With his free one, he slid it down your arm to the one he didn’t have. His touch sent a cold chill through you, despite it being quite warm outside. He held them both as he spoke.

“Close your eyes, okay?” Armin couldn’t resist giving your knuckles a quick and chaste kiss.

You were right. There was a trick up his sleeve, an ace in his deck you weren’t expecting. There was a flux in his tone of which he spoke, drawing you to say anything except no. His eyes sparkled with mischief and surprise while he held you so close to him.

You did as he said with no questions asked.

Behind the darkness of your eyelids, you could hear Armin doing things and moving around. He unzipped the rucksack. Whatever items he had in there clanked around as he moved about. Armin muttered quietly to himself.

“Are your eyes still closed?” Armin asked, though he could see that they were squeezed tightly.

“Yes.”

“Don’t open them yet!” He instructed.

“‘Kay.”

You stood awkwardly, eyes still closed and not yet completely sure of your surroundings. Your ears were finely tuned into the noises around you. Birds flittered and chirped closely, leaves rustling up above your head along with the faint breath of breeze. You drummed patiently on your thighs as you waited, growing more anxious by the second as to what Armin could possibly be up to.

“Okay, open.” His voice this time was lower than a whisper and appeared right in the shell of your ear. Your heart pounded at his lips suddenly being so close.

You did just as he said, opening your eyes and letting them adjust to the greenery around you. Both of you were standing in the middle of a clearing. The sun was at its highest morning peak, not a single cloud in the sky. It shone a spotlight down on the clearing Armin was leading you up to the entire time. On the ground was a blanket with food spread buffet style. White flower bushes encased the area like a natural fence.

“I-I figured that since you don’t have anything planned this afternoon, and I don’t have anything to do either, we could just hide out here…?”Armin explained, an open and hopeful suggestion left in the end. He rubbed his hands together nervously as he spoke.

It wasn’t really surprising that Armin had gone out of his way to do something this nice, as he tried to do things for you while keeping a low profile. The bouquet of flowers weren’t out of character, and neither were the little notes. Armin left little pieces of himself in places only you could see; the inside of your Survey Corps coat, in books.

This set up, however, was the grandest thing he’d ever done.

Armin pulled on the joints of his fingers to soothe the storm in his stomach. He scanned your body language. Your face lit up, a wide and surprised smile spreading across your soft lips. The knot in his tummy quickly untwisted itself.

“Aw!” You gaped at how everything was intentionally set up and laid out before you.

“You like it?” Armin questioned, as if the sentimental gloss in your eyes made it difficult to actually tell.

“Yes!”

You immediately got comfortable on the splayed blanket. It was unexpectedly soft. You laid on your back and threw your hands behind your head, looking up at the sky through the deep green branches. Armin joined your side without wasting a single second. You took a closer look at all of the food and smaller things he brought. It wasn’t much, but there was bread and jam, bits of different cheeses, apples and grapes. There was also a deck of playing cards and two books. They were simple things to come by.

Your chest felt as if it could just explode from the way Armin made you feel. Before you had gotten into a relationship, you never would have guessed that Armin was as romantic as he had been. Often a man of a few words unless prompted into conversation. Logical, analytical, and practical didn’t seem to go hand in hand with romance and affection. It was a side of Armin that only you got to see, a side that you knew that was only reserved for you. Which made you feel all the more special.

“This is really, really nice. You’re so sweet to me.” You gave him praise and recognition. Armin jokingly rolled his eyes, shrugged his shoulders and scoffed with faux imperturbability.

“Well, you know…” His face turned a deep pink.

After all the hard work and organization he put in to set this up, you decided at least a kiss was in order. You extended your neck slightly to meet his lips in the middle in the midst of his humble denial. Only then did Armin fall silent. He caught up to the pace of how you moved your lips in between his. His body melted on top of yours, now lying comfortably on top of you. He helped himself to hover you, his waist making home right in between your legs and hands holding him up on both sides of your head. You threw your arms around his neck, Armin instinctively lowered himself. The tips of your noses brushed against each other, and abdomens flush.

In between little make outs, you fed yourselves and each other, played a few rounds of Go Fish, and finally nestled down and started reading once all of the food had been eaten. You cracked open the newest book Armin had got just for this occasion. With a book in one hand, Armin rested his head in your lap and you played with his hair as you read out loud. You used your nails to scratch at his scalp, and twirled pieces of fine angel hair around your finger. Armin’s eyes fluttered shut, resting them as he listened to you read. He could listen to your voice forever.

Apart from the sounds of you reading and the feeling of you gently twirling his hair, everything around Armin seemed to fall away. Armin could only seem to find peace of mind whenever you were in his presence. Just the sight of you soothed the redundant and dull ache in his chest he had acquired from the trauma of the last few months. Armin still missed Eren more than anything, he thought of him every single day. He wondered if Eren was alright, if he had somewhere to sleep or something to eat. Whether or not Eren had grown comfortable in the new life he abandoned his old one for, or if he was even alive at this point. Instead of bottling up all his emotions inside, keeping his thoughts to himself so as to not upset Mikasa and others, you encouraged him to speak his mind. Little by little, each day got easier. Even still, apart from you and Mikasa, Armin couldn’t confide in anyone else on the same level as he did with Eren.

No one could take Eren’s place in Armin’s heart. However, the space Armin had for Eren and you separately started to slowly merge. Your touch comforted him like soup on a sick day. Armin never knew how much physical touch meant to him until Armin got to hold you almost whenever he wanted to. Your hands fit perfectly together, your bodies evenly meshed when you were pressed against one another. Hearing you laugh drowned out the buzzing in his brain. He slept deeper and longer with you snuggled up next to him. Those thoughts that had their own tiny voices couldn’t be heard over Armin hearing you moan his name in your ear while you both fucked each other.

Armin took advantage of the pause you took to flip the pages to speak after he had been quietly paying attention to your story telling.

“Can I ask you a question?” He blurted out.

You gave up trying to turn to the next page and closed the book completely, giving Armin your full attention.

“Yes,” You spoke, not even thinking twice about it.

Armin sat straight up. You leaned back on the blanket, supporting your weight with your hands. Armin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. There was something on his mind that he just could not hide. Armin was a quiet man, and you studied his body language carefully. A slightly turned head with eye contact was reserved for when Armin was curious, inquisitive. When Armin turned his head without eye contact, something was on his mind. He took a reasonable pause.

“If you could have anything you wanted, what would it be?” Armin implored.

You reached out again for his hair. It was so soft, as if you were touching nothing. His hair wasn’t as neat as it normally was since you had been playing in it. The wind blew his bangs back. You remembered when his brass-blonde hair was just shy of touching his shoulders. Armin hardly ever did anything with his hair, as a guy usually would. It always hung in his face, shielding him from being perceived. All you wanted to do was let the strands fall through your fingers.

Now, Armin’s hair was shorter in the back and layering longer at the top. It wasn’t quite a bowl cut, but it worked for the shape of his face. When Armin first got his hair cut, you were glad to see the guy behind it, but sometimes you did miss the length. You never got to play in it while it was long.

Your first thought to his question was to be able to turn back time. You would take it back three months ago in Marley, where Eren stood in front of you shaking with an unknown anger you had never seen before. You would change how you didn’t try hard enough to get him to articulate his thoughts. You would make yourself follow him outside so he wouldn’t be alone. Then perhaps he would only be minutes late to meet back with the squad instead of never showing up at all. Armin would be happy and still be conjoined to Eren’s side. Mikasa wouldn’t have cried for weeks and weeks, her smile would be brighter and her eyes wouldn’t be so cold. Captain Levi would still have someone to sarcastically abuse, Hange would have at least one person willing to stay up until three in the morning with them, Jean and Eren would fight as usual. Connie and Eren would still teasingly taunt and terrorize you at every chance they got. Everything would be in balance, as it had been before, and as it should be.

“I don’t know.”

You shrugged innocently as you took a section of Armin’s hair and split it into three pieces. It would be best not to say. You didn’t want to ruin a perfectly good and wholesome moment.

On the other hand, there wasn’t anything else you immediately wanted or needed. You were so grateful for all the times you scraped by death without even a broken bone. There wasn’t much one could ask for once you’ve been given life so many times. You weren’t starving, you had a roof over your head, and money in your purse. You had friends, and Armin, who gave you heart palpitations every time he blinked those long eyelashes. What else could you want?

“What about you?” You asked Armin in return.

You reached around you towards the flower bushes and plucked one straight from the stem. Within the white petals and yellow center was a sultry and sweet aroma. The scent tagged itself in your memory. You chose a few more flowers and placed them along the crown of Armin’s head.

Armin had already gone beyond the walls and had already seen the ocean, his ultimate life goal. He had an influential hand in transforming the island of Paradise, installing the railroad that was almost completed, and several other new ideas. Those ideas were just that so far. Armin wanted to think of an objective that was outside of work, something personal.

“I’d like to revisit my old house at some point, and see what it looks like.” Armin admitted.

“That can easily be done.” You said while your fingers kept working. Armin chuckled.

“Yeah. But, I can imagine some renovations would be in order for it to be livable.” Armin added.

You hummed. The scouts didn’t have the greatest salary, and saving money for a home would take quite a while. Even in a less fortunate outlier district such as Shiganshina. Why would the government waste money on paying soldiers in a regiment who were destined to die anyway?

You started your project on Armin’s hair over, since the flowers wouldn’t stay put in its fine texture. You recreated a braid going across the crown of Armin’s head, and then stuck the flowers in where they fit best. You worked on him as Armin spoke about his home in Shiganshina.

He and Eren lived in the same neighborhood, just a few blocks from each other. Armin remembered sitting at the kitchen table with his grandfather, who taught him to read, showing him pictures in the infamous book Armin brought up a few times. At the same table, his father would fix up the scrapes on his hands and knees from falling, either because he was clumsy and mistook his step or because he was shoved to the ground. And, Armin definitely remembered sitting in his mother’s lap while she showed him all of the blueprints for the hot-air balloon and the plans she had made.

Armin thought about his bedroom, and how juvenile it would be for him now. How the dishes would still be piled in the sink, books on the shelves were still organized in chronological order, shoes still by the front door and clothes for a little boy hanging in the closet and folded in the dresser. Everything would have layers and layers of dust, but would still be perfectly in place.

“And after reconstructing whatever needs to be done, we could get off-campus permits and live there.” Armin said.

Your heart almost stopped completely at hearing him say ‘we.’ As in you and him together.

“That sounds lovely.” Your breath tickled the back of Armin’s neck. He rolled his eyes back at the sensation, toes curled in his boots and stomach turning.

From that comment on, Armin continued. He shared how he wanted a flower box in every window, even on ones facing away from the street where no one could see. He wanted bookshelves built into the walls so it appeared more flush and cohesive, an oven to make bread at home instead of struggling to buy a loaf every week. All the renovations would be expensive, most definitely, but if he saved just enough and learned how to do a few things himself, the possibilities would be endless.

You lost your concentration for one moment, and a flower tumbled from Armin’s head to his lap. He picked it up and lifted a finger to ever so gently touch the delicate petals. All that Armin described sounded like a dream. But, there was one tiny minuscule flaw.

“Wouldn’t people notice that we live together? What would we do then?” You asked, half teasing.

So far you and Armin were so good at hiding your relationship, no one had suspected anything. It was easy to slip undetected while everyone’s attention was averted to coping without Eren and adjusting back to regular life. If word got out that you and Armin were living together off Survey Corp grounds, there would definitely be assumptions and questions.

Armin shrugged. He shoved his nose into the flower that had fallen into his lap. Armin got a whiff of a spicy scent with earthy undertones. He twirled it in between his fingers.

“It’ll take a while to save for even a down payment, then having the off-campus permit go through. W-We’ll just figure it out when we get to that point, I suppose.” Armin talked low, despite you two being the only ones out in the forest.

Armin’s flower crown was completed. He moved his head around carefully so as to not ruin your masterpiece. The flowers sat on the top of his head as if you had crowned him a prince of the trees. Armin did a half turn to at face you. The sun coming through the greenery above granted Armin a glowing shadow around his shoulders. He looked like an angel.

“What kind of flowers are these?” You wanted to know.

You quickly changed the subject. Thinking further ahead about living with Armin was making your head spin. You wouldn’t be totally opposed to it, but you never had lived with a boyfriend before. The possibility of settling down somewhere seemed so far away, so unlikely given the chance you’d die the very next day. A new window of potential cracked open ever so slightly.

Armin took a final glance at the flower in his hand, and then gently placed it in your hair just above your ear. You flushed quickly at the feeling of Armin’s fingers dusting through your hair.

“I believe these are gardenias.” Armin replied matter of factly. He responded with little hesitation.

“We could plant some of these in the windows!” You mentioned excitedly.

“Okay, sure. Whatever you’d like.” Armin smiled, and chuckled.

His cheeks burned hot, he could feel himself turning an embarrassing shade of red. He smiled gently and genuinely at you. The corners of his eyes turned upwards happily. Only you were capable of making him grin this way these days. The pulling feeling in his chest was a sensation reserved for you and you only. The tunneling vision whenever you were in his line of sight became clearer and sharper with focus. Armin’s body was already admitting to itself that he had fallen for you harder than he had ever thought imaginable.

When the sun shifted and time set to late afternoon, it would be time for dinner by the time you and Armin returned back. The thirty minute trek lasted another thirty minutes because Armin’s horse walked the rest of the way to Scout headquarters. Armin could have made her pick up the pace a little bit, but he wanted to spend his time with you as much as he could. Armin didn’t talk much. He stayed quiet and enjoyed the slow trot with you holding onto him again. You didn’t have to hold onto him so tightly, but Armin liked it nonetheless. You both parted at the stables, but not without quickly and deeply pressing your lips together in a long kiss. Neither of you were sure if you’d be able to see each other later, or if this was your secluded parting for the night. You went ahead of Armin to the mess hall. The snacks Armin had brought were eaten hours ago, and you absolutely needed more sustenance. The mess hall was busy, as expected. You got your plate and sat yourself at the usual table. Connie and Sasha had already claimed their spots, sitting right next to each other and shooting the breeze. You plopped in front of them, greeting them breathlessly before helping yourself to your meal. The food today was just alright, but beggars can’t be choosers. You completely missed the way Sasha and Connie exchanged short looks at each other.

They leaned in closer, keeping their eyes on you until you noticed them staring directly at you. Connie naturally had wide eyes, big and a yellowish-hazel, lighter than Sasha’s. If you didn’t know them both, you would have assumed they were fraternal twins. They spent so much time together they started looking like one another. You blinked at the both of them, staring you down like you had grown a second head. “What?” You asked. You took your napkin and wiped the corners of your mouth, in case there was something on your face.

“Who’s the guy?” Sasha simply asked as if it were the easiest question in the world. You scoffed.

“What?” You choked. “Who is the guy?” Sasha pressed again.

“There is no guy!” You automatically denied.

You did the best you could to keep your composure, but your body couldn't stop the increase of anxiety. You might as well be under a single spotlight lamp, playing carrot and stick. Sasha leaned in closer, the smirk on her face grew bigger and bigger as you kept insisting there was no person of interest. There was no getting out of this conversation, Sasha could smell fear. Her honey-hazel eyes met to yours, you subconsciously avoided eye contact. If she looked too deep into your eyes, they might tell her the answer she seeks.

“Oh, there’s a guy.” Connie input with a knowing smirk on his face. “‘Cause I’m a guy, and I know when there’s another guy.” He explained as if he was making sense.

You squinted, not understanding Connie’s logic. You and Sasha cut your eyes at each other.

“Old flame, or is it someone new?” Sasha continued. She wiggled her eyebrows and shimmied her shoulders.

Just because you have had an incredibly dedicated crush on Armin since you were cadets, did not stall the pursuit of other potential partners and lovers. For years and years, you had become comfortable admiring Armin from a distance. You never actually thought you two would potentially end up together. Had you known that, you obviously would have waited for him. Then, you never knew when your last moment would be, so you lived your life as fully as you could for a soldier — per Sasha, who encouraged you to have normal relationships.

You took a pause to actually think about what you might want to say next. You didn’t honestly believe you could hide much without at least Mikasa and Sasha catching on. They were both very intuitive, and Sasha was more of a gossip than Mikasa was. Confessing now, in front of Connie and without Armin present, thus leaving Mikasa the last to know, seemed inappropriate.

Like Armin said, you’d both figure out what to say when you got to that point. Whenever that day comes, you’d like Armin to be with you. Connie wasn’t paying attention anymore. His focus was directed towards his bowl of stew. He shoveled food into his mouth as if someone would come by and snatch it from him. Sasha’s face twitched with excitement. She leaned in closer and spoke just a smidge quieter, a tone that was befitting the noisy environment.

“Who is it?” Was her next question, naturally.

You sighed. You took a look around the mess hall, wondering where anyone else was so the current conversation could come to a close. You shook your head.

“I can’t say.” That was all you were willing to admit for the time being.

“Whyy-uhh!?” She whined as she stomped her feet under the table.

“We want to be…private.” You put it lightly so as to not hurt Sasha’s feelings by saying it was a secret.

You wanted to tell Sasha so badly. She was always your number one supporter about crushing on Armin. If your circumstances and environment had been different at the scene of defining your relationship, she’d be the first person you’d tell.

Sasha slouched back in her seat, arms folded with a smug smirk across her lips. Her eyes glanced you up and down about twice before she nodded and threw her hands up.

“Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out myself.” Sasha declared.

You hadn’t looked away from Sasha’s suspicious yet omniscient stare down. Not knowing who the mysterious guy is would drive her insane for sure. Perhaps it would be fun to see all of her guesses, and to watch her face fall every time she got it wrong. The chance of Sasha naming Armin right off the bat was slim.

Right in the nick of time, Jean had helped himself to sitting on your left.

You didn’t see Armin, but you felt him. You smelled him. The aroma of gardenia still lingered on his skin, on his clothes, in his hair. Armin gently sat down across from you, next to Connie. Jean had occupied the only space next to you. Armin greeted you with a soft ‘hey.’

“What are you trying to figure out?” Jean wanted to know. He got a spoonful of his stew and blew on his spoon lightly.

“Sasha’s gonna figure out who Y/N’s secret boyfriend is.” Connie summarized the conversation.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing could come out of it. Like a sixth sense, your eyes honed in on Armin across from you. Armin kept his hands folded in his lap, ears open and listening to the conversation as he pretended to be busy with a string on the hem of his shirt.

“Like I said, it’s private.” You repeat yourself again so Jean could retain that bit of information.

Under the table, Armin nudged your foot with his. You made eye contact for half a second. You met each other with stealthy and knowing twinkle in your eyes. You knocked your foot against his in return, rubbing the side of your shoe with his boot.

Armin’s face muscles ached to pull to smile, but he held it all inside with an awkward swallow. His heart skipped a few beats when you raised your foot to graze higher on his calf, teasing him under the table.

“That’s your business. I don’t care.” Was all Jean had to say. He began to eat his dinner and remained silent.

“I care! I care so much!” Sasha exclaimed.

Sasha had worked herself up so, she went to flail her hands up to her chest in dramatics. She knocked into Connie’s wrist, and his spoon flew from his fingers. The muted clang of metal rang from Connie’s position.

“See, look what you made me do! You made me drop my fuckin’ spoon!” He complained.

Armin refrained from giggling at the irony. If it hadn’t been for Jean and that humongous gulp of alcohol he made Armin chug, you and him would not be a private item. Another thought crossed Armin’s mind. He knew you both couldn’t stay in the comfort of your secluded relationship forever, and eventually the truth would come to light. If Sasha was asking questions, how much longer could you two get away with it?

Armin watched you and Sasha go back and forth. Sasha spat out a few names of Scouts you might know and who might be interested in you. You shook your head at every name Sasha gave, promising her that she wouldn’t guess it so easily. Once she ran out of names to give, she gave up and insisted she’d try again later.

“You got me now, but I will figure this out!” Sasha swore as if her life depended on it.

You could spare her sanity and give her a hint, tell her to shorten and reel in her fishing net, or offer a clue about his identity. Sasha was so hellbent on solving the mystery, it seemed to be more entertaining to let her do it on her own than to offer help. You failed to hide how much you were resisting to smile. You nodded, while still brushing yourself against Armin’s foot only inches from Sasha’s own casual flat sandals.

tags: @callm3senpaii @aegonslawyer @arminsdiscordkitten

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filmtv2022 · 2 years ago

Text

To the Bitter End: Chapter Seven

18+ Minors Do Not Proceed

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist

Pairing: Doc Holliday x Earp!Reader

Chapter Notes: Y/N recovers under the care of Doc & her family. Once she is feeling better, John & Y/N return to living their life together, as normally as one can, given the current set of circumstances. The cowboys continue to cause a problem for the town of Tombstone, and that in turn puts the reader's loved ones in danger.

Warnings: Swearing + alcohol consumption + kissing/suggestive behavior + gun fights

** Author's Note: Again, this chapter is probably more like 16+, but I don't want anyone to be caught off guard by the content. So, it is what it is. This one feels super long, but I hope you all enjoy it!

Recovery after a bout like your last took time, and it was never a full recovery, you body never quite made it back to the place it was before it happened. Your muscles fatigued more quickly, your lungs burned with effort from even the shortest walks, and the face staring back at you in the mirror looked impossibly more pale. Even with your body failing you, the past few days had been some of your happiest, and it was all because of who were with. John never left your side except to round up food for the pair of you to eat. Each day was spent getting to know each other’s hearts & minds in a way you’d never had the chance to fathom. And the nights were spent tangled beneath the sheets, committing every inch of the other’s body to memory.

It had been nearly five days since your night at the Bird Cage with Doc & your family. In that time, your brothers had made it a point to visit daily, both Virgil & Morgan brought their wives along. But each time Wyatt came to visit he was alone, the look of sadness never fully left his eyes.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Standing at the mirror you heard a small knock on the door. You figured it was probably John returning with his arms too full to manuver the handle, so you slowly made your way over & pulled it open. It wasn’t Doc standing there, it was Wyatt. Once the door was open he quickly moved through the frame & into the room, his shoulders slumped as he sat down on the edge of the bed. The door quietly thunked in its frame as you shut it before moving to sit next to him. Not sure of what to say you grabbed your brother’s hand with your own, and waited for him to speak.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Confusion rolled through your body as you pulled Wyatt’s hand into your lap.

“I have spent your whole life trying to figure out how to protect you because the thought of you being in pain scared the shit out of me. And when you first got sick…I..I felt like I had failed you. I had failed to do the one thing I’d sworn I would do. And then with Mattie, god, I don’t even really know why, but I let her try to walk all over you.” His words were flowing fast, coming in as an almost incoherent stream of consciousness.

“I should have said something that night at the Bird Cage, but instead I let you defend yourself alone. And when you collaspsed I was terrified because I realized that I might never get a chance to be a better brother.” He paused just for a moment, standing up from the bed before continuing to bear his heart to you.

“And I know that I don’t say it enough, but I need you to know how much I love you. I never wanted this life for you, and for years I have been lost trying to figure out how to keep you here with us longer, to protect you, but when I saw you with Doc, it all made sense. You don't need me to find a way to keep you here, you don’t need me to protect you from the world, you need me to simply just be there, to bring more good into your life, which I know I haven’t always done. So I promise you this Y/N, from here out, I will do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

Wyatt’s breathing was heavy, as if he had just run a race, but he felt lighter than he had in years. Standing you reached out to him, your arms wrapped around his middle gripping the back of his jacket tightly. It only took a second before Wyatt was reciprocating the hug.

“Wyatt, there’s nothing to forgive, but I know you need to hear it. So, I forgive you. And I need you to know that I love you. I know how much of a burden it has been to walk with me through this illness & even the best men falter in the face of death. And when it comes to happiness, I hope you do the same. Pursue happiness Wyatt, life is far too short to live without it…I know because I’ve lived that way for the past two years.”

The two of you stood in the each other’s embrace for a few minutes until the door opened again, this time it was Doc returning with food.

“Well, if it isn’t the picture of familial bliss.” Doc teased as he entered the room. Pulling away from your brother you made your way over to Doc, placing a small kiss to his lips as he set down the items he’d been holding. Doc’s arms circled low around your waist as your own found a home on around his neck.

“Doc, how the hell are you?” A wide smile formed on Wyatt’s face as he greeted his friend. He’d never admit, but knowing that Doc was the person bringing happiness back into your life was like a life preserver keeping him afloat in turbulent waters.

“Wyatt, I am rolling” quipped John, grinning back at Wyatt before dipping down to kiss you. This kiss grew a bit more passionate than originally intended causing your brother to clear his throat before bowing out of the room.

“Well, I think it’s time for me leave.” Quickly Wyatt made his exit from the room, hearing the pair of you huff a muffled laugh at the impropriety of it all.

As the door thunked in its frame, Doc’s chapped lips moved down your neck before backing you up onto the bed. He lowered himself down on top of you as the back of your knees hit the edge of the frame. His hands roamed your body, lingering on the swell of your chest before sweeping down to caress your sides. Pure lust & desperation took hold of you as his fingers slid sensually across your body. A breathy moan escaped your lips as one of your hands gripped John tightly by the hair, while the other brushed along his back. The feeling of Doc’s finger tips ghosting over the inside of your thighs had you fisting your hand in his brown locks. The sudden tension caused John to groan into your mouth, and grind his hips down into yours.

That’s when you could feel it, the tightening of John’s body, not from lust, but from a deep cough searching to escape. Doc shot back from your body, his face strained from the violent contraction of his lungs. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching into his breast pocket for a handkerchief. As he pulled the cloth from his pocket you could see that it was already stained with blood. The sight of it caused your chest to clench, you knew this meant this was not the first time today he’d been ravaged by a coughing spell.

A particularly forceful hack spurred you into action. You stood from the end of the bed before moving to the spot slightly behind John, your left leg draped down next to his while your right shin was tucked behind him. Once you were back on the bed you reached out for John bringing him closer to you. Your arms wrapped around his body as he continued to try & calm his blazing lungs. There you sat, stroking comforting touches along Doc’s arms. Finally, his chest stopped heaving allowing John to take a few restorative breathes. Leaning back you curled your fingers around a clean cloth that was within your reach. You pressed a sad smile to John’s temple, gently dabbing away the moisture that had collected there. Settling back onto the bed you took Doc by the shoulders to lay on your chest, a contented sign slipped past your lips as his warm body melted into yours.

—----------------------------------------------

After some time you could feel Doc begin to stir in your arms. You’d know John for a long time & you could guess that while the past several days had been wonderful in many ways, he was itching to get out of this hotel. Doc had never been one to turn down the chance to drink whiskey and gamble, the risk of it all was like a drug, numbing reality enough to let the anxiety of dying ease just a little. It was time to break out of this bubble & return to life outside of the Grand.

“Doc… I think I’d like to pay a visit to the Oriental tonight, if you’re up for it?” You offered up this lifeline for him to grab & John gladly took it.

Doc’s thick drawl swept across your body, his voice was like a pain killer for your soul.

“What a splendid idea darlin’, I believe it is high time we give this town something new to talk about.” A mischievous grin grew on his lips as he stood from the bed.

—-----------------------------------------------

The sky was already dark by the time you & John left the Grand & began the walk over to the Oriental. The two of you were certainly a sight to behold with John dressed in a long sleeve, button down undershirt & a black vest, and you in a scandalously low cut dress. The deep navy blue of the fabric complimented your pale skin in a way that left Doc feeling electrified, in truth, you’d almost never made it out of the hotel room. The fact that you weren’t wearing a bustle had nearly stopped his heart cold.

With drinks in hand, you made your way over to the Faro table to visit with Wyatt & Morgan. Tonight, John couldn’t resist throwing his hand in the pot, and in traditional Holliday fashion, he cleaned house on every round. While Doc continued to play, you made your way over to the bar to buy not just another drink, but a bottle of John’s favorite whiskey, Old Overholt Rye. Tipping the bartender well, you looped your fingers through the handles of the cups while clutching the bottle’s neck in your other hand. What you didn’t notice was the man with a red shash & a powder blue shirt glaring at you as you sauntered away.

Coming up behind Doc you pressed your body against his as you reached around him to first place the pair of cups on the Faro table, followed by the bottle of whiskey. The bottled sounded with a dull thud as it hit the cloth covered surface. John quickly glanced down to see what was in front of him before turning himself around.

Sitting back on the table slightly John’s hands slid into their favorite position on your hips as he spoke.

“Well, isn’t that a daisy? I’d say I’d gone to Heaven, but I’m fairly certain the Pearly Gates have already been slammed in my face.” Leaning forward John brought his lips to your neck, his hands finding new purchase in your hair & on your ass. The feeling of his mouth on your throat causing a quiet gasp to blow past your lips.

“Besides, you’re no angel are you darlin’?” His mustache tickled your skin as he smiled against your throat.

“Well, there was a devilishly good looking bidder aiming for soul a few nights back, so no, I’m no angel at all” The reference to your conversation at the Bird Cage sent you both into hysterics. Loosening his grip on your body, John turned around to open the bottle of whiskey. He poured you both a brimming glass before clinking your cups together.

—------------------------------------------

John continued to play rounds of Faro, throwing back glass after glass of alcohol in the process. Seeing just how far gone he was, you slowed down your own consumption. You knew that the more he consumed, the more likely he was to say something irrational and earn himself a fight. And while John could certainly handle himself, it seemed wise to keep your wits about you just in case.

Eventually, Doc’s attention turned to the piano sitting next to the table. Collecting his money, John bowed out of the game & plopped himself clumsily down on the bench behind the keys. Turning away from your brother’s you watched as Doc slowly began to move his fingers along the ivories. You loved this side of him in a way that was difficult to explain, he was soft, almost vulnerable when he played piano, and it warmed you through to see him like this. Many people discounted John upon first glance, they assumed he was nothing more than a drunk lunger hoping to get into a fight. And while there were threads of truth in those perceptions, there was a whole other person sitting just below that tough exterior. In reality, John was also an academic, a musician, hell even an amateur philosopher. Not only could he hold his own in any gun fight (drunk or sober), he could debate about the woes of the world with the best of them.

Within seconds Doc was languidly moving along the keys, gracefully playing a somber tune. The song certainly didn’t fit the atmosphere of the Oriental, but it fit John perfectly. The invisible string that connected you & him seemed to tighten as he glanced over his shoulder at you, silently inviting you to join him. So you did, sliding onto the bench behind Doc you leaned your backs together, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. The two of you moved together as the music played, the scene far too intimate for the setting, but neither of you cared enough to change. Wyatt & Morgan who were sitting at the Faro table couldn’t help but laugh a little at the sight of you two.

Your eyes had fluttered shut as Doc continued to play, wanting to focus on the sounds of the room rather than the sights. This caused you to miss the man who had watched you earlier approaching the piano. The sound of the person’s voice caused your eyes to fly open.

“Hey! Hey! Is that “Old Dog Trey”? That sounds like “Old Dog Trey” to me.” The smell of old alcohol was wafting off of him in waves so strong it nearly made you ill.

John didn’t bother to stop playing as he replied, “Pardon”.

“You know, Stephen Foster. “Oh! Susanna”, “Camptown Races”...Stephen Stinkin’ Foster!” The man’s tone was growing agitated as he spoke. That was when you noticed the red sash hanging from his hip, the sight bringing a pit to your stomach.

“Uh, yes, well, this happens to be a nocturne”

“A which?”

“You know, Frederic fucking Chopin”

The tension in the room kept you from laughing at Doc’s comments, but you heard Wyatt & Morgan slip up in the background. A sudden commotion in the street tore you and everyone else in the bar from the moment. You could hear repeated gunfire and the sound of fast moving hooves as the sheriff came running into the Oriental.

“Do you see what’s going on in the street? Somebody’s gotta do something”

Another man stepped in to say, “I believe you’re the sheriff”

“No, no, no, no. This is not county business. This is a town matter. Marshall?”

Your eyes turned toward Wyatt in surprise when he interjected himself into the conversation.

“Why don’t you just leave it alone?”

The Marshall hesitantly spoke up, “No, I, uh…I gotta do somethin’ ”

The Marshall took off towards the door through which you could still hear the person hollering & carrying on. Wyatt tried to continue the game, but his efforts were short lived as the situation on the street escalated. In the distance you could hear the Marshall trying to talk the man down from his shooting spree. The Sheriff made his way out onto the porch of the Oriental to watch what was happening when you heard one more shot ring out in the night air. Your blood ran cold as you heard the Marshall grunt with pain. Wyatt rose quickly, practically running out to help. Doc stood up to follow pulling you with him as he moved. As you exited the building you clocked the man in the red shirt, it was same one from a early in the week, and the sight of him made your blood boil.

The scene outside was chaos.

“You better get him off the street” Wyatt ordered as more of the patrons from the bar flooded around Fred’s body. He’d grabbed the man in red by the back of the neck, holding his face down as he barked a command.

“All right, back off” Wyatt’s tone growing more serious as the crowd demanded for the perpetrator to be tied up & killed.

“Nobody’s hangin’ anybody. He’ll stand trial for it. Now get back! Move!”

The man in blue from the other night appeared suddenly amongst the people in the street, throwing demands at Wyatt.

“Turn him loose!” Tensions rose as guns were cocked, ready for a fight

The cowboy who had been harassing Doc by the piano joined in the fray.

“He said to turn loose of him”

“Well, I’m not; so, go home”

“I swear to god, law dog, you don’t step aside, we’ll tear you apart”

Wyatt turned to point his pistol directly at the man, lifting it to his forehead.

“All right, you die first. Get it? Your friends might get me in a rush, but not before I make your head into a canoe. You understand me?” You knew by the tone of his voice that Wyatt was ready to take a life tonight, and all you could do was hope that it didn’t come to that right here, right now.

Music man interjected, “He’s bluffin’. Let’s rush him”.

The weasel with a gun pointed to his head pleaded with his friends to back off.

“No… he ain’t bluffin’.

“You’re not as stupid as you look, Ike. Now tell them to get back”

“Go on now, get back. He’ll kill me.

As the group of cowboys started to move back you felt Doc move from the spot right behind. He took a few paces forward, removing his gun from its place on his side and engaging the weapon.

“And you, music lover, you’re next.” Alcohol smoothed the tone of John’s voice, and most certainly impeded his able for rational thinking.

“It’s the drunk piano player. You’re so drunk, you can’t hit nothing. In fact, you’re probably seein’ double” The man drew a long knife from the sheath at his side causing the air in your lungs to freeze. Doc on the other hand seemed entirely unfazed by the threat in front of him. Throwing back the last of the drink in his cup, John hooked his finger through the handle before pulling out his other pistol and spining them both in his hands.

“I have two guns, one for each of ya.” The crowd of people stood stock still in nervous anticipation, the air thick with the possibility of bloodshed.

The sound of a gunshot tore through the air and was quickly followed by Virgil shouting, “All right, back it up now!” Morgan joined Virgil as they broke up the crowd on the ground. Meanwhile, Doc’s head was on a swivel watching for any unseen threat that might manifest.

Wyatt pushed Ike away with the barrel of his gun, but Ike just didn’t know when to quit.

As he stumbled away Ike shouted a veiled threat towards your brother, “I’ll see you soon. I’l see you soon. We’ll meet again”.

Once Wyatt, Virgil & Morgan had left with Curly Bill in tow, Doc returned his pistols to his holster & turned back to you. The look on your face was unreadable, bordering on stoney. Carefully, John approached you, like a wild animal that might snap without warning. Having closed the gap between you, John stood in silence, waiting for you to speak, to let him into your mind. But you didn’t, you simply turned around and walked back into the Oriental. Back at the Faro table you began cleaning up the mess & collecting the few items you brought. Every movement was calm & calculated in an attempt to hide your true emotions from the people flooding back into the bar.

Doc continued to watch you as you worked, thinking it best if he didn’t interfere. With the table cleaned up & closed for the night & the nearly empty bottle of whiskey in hand, you turned to say good night to the bartender before making your way to the door. John was only a few steps behind you, trailing you all the way back to the Grand.

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

Back in the room John was seated on the bed, removing his outerwear to get ready for bed, all the while his eyes followed you around the space. First the money from the table was stored away safely, then the bottle of whiskey was placed next to the vanity mirror, and finally you stood in the front of the wardrobe preparing to undress. The silence was heavy with tension, but Doc knew you’d speak when you were damn well good and ready.

Your hands reached around your back to start unbuttoning your dress, fumbling with the angle. Noticing your struggle, John made his way to you & began slowly undoing your dress. His fingers pressing gently into your back as he moved from button to button. As the last closure was opened, he pushed the fabric from your shoulders, guiding it off of your frame & placing it on the chair nearby. Next his hands fell to the ties on the back of your skirt, untying the strings holding it in place. Taking you by the hand for balance he helped you step out of the skirt & placed it to on the chair. Now that you stood before him in your underwear, the last step was to remove the pins from your hair. Doc’s long fingers threaded through your hair carefully finding each pin, the plink of the pins hitting the vanity the only sound in the room.

John was transfixed on the feeling of your proximity, but the small sound of your sobs returned his attention to the present. Turning you around Doc brought you close, your arms wrapped around his middle squeezing tightly, as his were secure around your neck. Hot tears collected on his shirt as you continued to cry, but the dam had broken and there was no stopping the flood.

You finally found your words & broke apart from John’s embrace to speak.

“It scares me… your lack of self preservation.” Your voice wasn’t angry, you were sullen… almost defeated.

John waited for you to continue because he could see the words you wanted to say brewing under the surface.

“John you told me once that you always believed you’d die with your boots on and your gun blazing. And, while rationally I know that’s probably true, there’s part of me that hopes for something different… for you and me. Our time together is already limited with the grim reaper himself is our chaperone, but I… I don’t want to watch you die that way.”

Now it was Doc’s turn to be silent. There were no words to express the thoughts in his head at that moment. For the longest time, John gave himself over to his fighting instincts, hoping that an ill-advised gunfight would be the thing to take him and not the slow decline of his body. There was control in the first option, and while John thrived in chaos... when it came to his exit from the world… he would have given almost anything to have some say. Now there was a shift in his universe, a battlefield in his mind. He still desperately wanted control over his fate, and yet, he too couldn’t fathom the thought of making you watch as he bled out on the street or in a bar from a bullet wound. But by the same token, even the thought of you holding him in your arms as he succumbed to his illness sent chills through his body. And oddly enough, at that moment, the only thing John wished for was for someone else to make that decision, to take the control away… make it so he didn’t have to choose how he hurt you.

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

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@sassyactorsandmanyfandoms

#doc holliday x reader #doc holliday #tombstone 1993 #val kilmer

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highdramas · 4 years ago

Text

it’s rotten work | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers, general talk about illness/stomach flu

word count: 1.7k!

summary: you have the stomach flu. bucky takes care of you. somewhere in there, love is confessed.

note: here’s another installment in the twalb story <3 again, you don’t have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn’t like! just a heads up i wrote this SUPER quick and it is not proofread but the thought of bucky taking care of me when i’m sick....... ya i just had to write it

enjoy! <3

“doll?”

you’re not sure when you padded out to the living room. you’re not even sure how you managed to get the bowl to set next to you, in case your stomach turned again. and you’re really not sure how you even thought to put a few cubes of ice in the mug full of water that sits on the coffee table.

all you had known was your stomach was a pit of fire and your head was pounding and you are an absolute baby when it comes to feeling ill. and bucky is finally beginning to sleep through the night in the bed that you two share. he doesn’t need to be woken by your moaning and groaning.

apparently, you had drifted off into sleep at some point. and apparently, bucky had noticed. you shouldn’t say apparently as if it’s so shocking. bucky pays attention to just about everything when it comes to you. you’re sure that the second he reached his arm out and felt nothing but the sheets, he sprung from the mattress.

you’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness for you don’t know how long. it was nearly two in the morning when you wandered out of the bedroom, and as you scramble to grab your phone, it reads 3:07am back at you.

“doll, what’s goin’ on?” bucky sits on the edge of the couch and his hand goes to your bare thigh, rubbing your skin, and you note that he is shirtless.

“don’t feel good,” you mumble and cover your eyes with your forearm. “didn’t want to wake you up.” you pause and look at him. “you look so good. ‘s not fair.”

bucky scoffs and he pushes your arm away, placing his hand on your forehead. “jesus, you’re fucking burning.” you faintly feel his hand moving down the side of your face. “you should’ve gotten me.”

“didn’t want to wake you up,” you repeat and you finally open your eyes. he’s looking down at you with an incredulous smile, that somehow manages to mix irritation and adoration. “or get you sick.”

“i don’t care about that.” you’re sure with the serum he couldn’t even catch a cold. “one second.”

you begin to push yourself up, protests on your lips, but bucky shakes his head and gently pushes you back into the couch. “stop. let me take care of you.”

oh.

there’s something simple inim the words that stirs your stomach.

and you promptly grab the bowl and throw up into it.

bucky’s not gone long once he hears you. he has a hair tie on his wrist and various other items which he sets on the coffee table before he scrambles to pull your hair back. you’re hunched over with the bowl in your lap and a pout on your lips. you look at him and say, “i’m sorry, this is so not sexy.”

you throw up into the bowl once more.

despite tying your hair back, bucky keeps one hand tangled in it, the other rubbing circles on your back. “i always think you’re sexy.” cue a gag. “even now.”

you pull back and look at him with furrowed brows. “shut up.”

bucky grins and he wipes your mouth with a damp towel. you slacken slightly as he holds you, as he takes care of you. your mind is nothing but a fog, but at the center of it is bucky. bucky’s touch, bucky’s hold, bucky’s soft voice in your ear. “i think i fell in love with you the first time i saw you,” you begin to babble, your head falling to the side. whether it’s the fever or the exhaustion or a mix of both, you’ll never know. “when you asked to help build kitty’s tower.” you point to where it now lives in the corner of his apartment. “look at your handiwork. you did such a great job. how could i not fall in love with you?”

bucky stills. the two of you have passed many firsts. hell, you two live together for christ’s sake. however, there is one thing that has never passed either of your lips.

i love you.

you continue. “it’s so easy, too,” you say, your head lolling to the side. “to love you. you’re so hard on yourself, buck. but it’s easy as-- it’s easy as breathing.” you smile and it quickly dissipates as you feel your stomach twist again. “god, i’m so sorry you’re doing this.”

“don’t be,” he says, and his voice is husky.

you love him.

he should’ve guessed, right? because he is in perfect agreement with you. he has loved you since he has known you.

slowly, you lean your head on his shoulder and he holds you, setting the bowl down onto the ground beside you. “i feel like you’re not going to believe me,” you mumble. “how much i love you. you never believe me.”

“doll…”

“it’s true!” you pull back, and your eyes are glassy. you fall back onto the couch and you once again place your arm on your forehead. “i wish you could understand.”

“understand what?”

blue eyes lock onto yours. “how deserving you are of good things in the world.” you stretch your legs out across his lap.

you don’t give him much chance to respond before you’re pressing your hand to your forehead and groaning. bucky opens and closes his mouth, trying to find the words, before he shakes his head. not the time. “here,” he grabs the bottle of ibuprofen he’d found in the cabinet and the mug full of water you’d fetched for yourself when you initially stumbled out into the living room. “let me help you. can you sit up?”

nodding, you push yourself up again. he taps your chin lightly, and you open your mouth. he places two pills onto your tongue and he holds the back of your head, handing you the water. a shaky hand takes it and you tip your head back, downing nearly the entire glass. “thank you,” you look at him. “you don’t have to do this. i would’ve been fine.”

“didn’t you just say something about being deserving of good things?” bucky studies you. “that applies to you, too.”

“i didn’t realize puking all over my boyfriend was a good thing.”

he rolls his eyes and you laugh. even when you feel like shit, you’re laughing, bucky notes. it’ll never be lost on him how lucky he is to get a front row seat to that laugh every single day. the two of you sit in quiet for a long time. he gets another damp rag and puts it on your forehead. he sits on the opposite side of the couch and he runs his fingers up and down your legs, making smoothing circles.

when you open your eyes again, sunlight is beginning to stream in through the windows.

bucky is still sitting in the same position, but now, he’s watching the tv, and he seems to have found a t shirt. no sound omits from the tv, but you watch as his eyes take in the subtitles at the bottom of the screen. as you begin to stir, his head snaps to look at you. “hey.”

you rub your eyes, and you’re already feeling a hell of a lot better than you did last night. “what time is it?”

“almost noon.”

bucky has clearly done some cleaning. the bowl from last night is gone and replaced with a new one, clean and empty beside you. there’s a new glass of water on a coaster next to you, as well as more medicine and some saltine crackers. you rub at your neck, trying to recall the events of last night. the things you said.

how could i not fall in love with you?

your heart plummets. you fix your eyes on him and he sits up a little bit straighter. “are you feeling alright?”

“oh my god,” you breathe, and you cover your face with your hands. “i’m so sorry.”

bucky pulls your hands away, scooting closer to you. “doll, no. don’t be sorry--”

“no, i am!” you press your hand to your cheek. “i throw up all over you, probably sweated all over you-- like, ew! and then, i incoherently mumble about how much i love you?! buck, that’s not the way that i wanted to tell you. not at all.” frustrated tears begin to rear their ugly head. “i’m sorry,” your apology is not more than a whisper.

bucky doesn’t seem to mind any of that, though. “you remember?”

“of course i remember!” you fall back and bucky takes your hand.

“doll…” bucky looks at you. “doll, c’mere.”

stubborn as ever, you stay where you’re at, embarrassment written all over your face. his hands pull you up and finally, you look at his eyes. “i’ve loved you since that night, too.” his words are soft, almost nervous, though you could never understand why. “i thought that maybe you were just… you know, when you’re feverish, you can say crazy things. i didn’t want to--”

you can’t help it, a laugh breaks free from your lips. “that is so like you,” your words are laced with fondness. “i confess my love to you, and you think it’s the fever talking.”

his cheeks go pink. you lick your lips and you hold his face in your hands. “i meant it.” you nod your head, biting down on your lip. “i meant all of it.”

it’s as if you can see the physical weight that lifts from bucky’s shoulders. he breathes a bit lighter, his smile is a bit easier. “i love you,” you insist. “forever, buck.”

bucky’s hand goes back to that spot on the back of your neck, pushing past the tangled knot that your hair has turned into. “i love you,” he says, and he leans in.

his lips barely brush yours before you scoot back, shaking your head. “no, no.” you laugh and move to stand up. “you had to see me throw up everywhere, i’m not going to make you kiss me with vomit breath.”

bucky grabs your hand, holds your face in those tender hands of his, and he presses his lips against yours. the kiss is slow, and it is sweet. when he pulls back, he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “i’ve seen a lot of bad shit, sweetheart,” he pecks your lips again. “i’m not scared of a little puke.”

you fall in love with him over and over and over again.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series #the world's a little blurry #my writing

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swqns · 3 years ago

Text

“ I swear it to you, I will never forget how you loved me. “

synopsis ;;

You think back on a distant memory of Kazuha finding you wounded at the Wangshuu Inn. He hadn’t been there to protect you from such an injury, but you two still looked back on it fondly. Now, you reminisce alone, praying to any god out there that Kazuha doesn’t have to see your downfall.

-- kazuha x gn reader

-- cw ;; blood , death , injury.

-- note ;; enjoy <3 do let me know which part of this hurt the worst in my inbox, im curious

Being a traveler, you’ve had your fair share of injuries. some worse than others. some … you weren’t quite sure how you healed from them.

Some injuries were sourced from carelessness, ignorance, or pride. you did take more care to not get injured after falling in love with kazuha, though. he means the world to you, you can’t imagine leaving him alone in it. you knew he had his worries about you, and as much as he wishes he could follow you into battle .. sometimes you just traveled where he could not follow. he was a wanted man, after all. but you always returned home. always on time, or earlier. you were never late so .. why were you late?

Kazuha paced back and forth, nibbling at his fingernails in his worry. you were supposed to be home from this commission hours ago .. where had you gone?

His pacing is interrupted by a deckhand knocking on the door of your shared quarters, the place you two had been calling home for a while.

“Kazuha, you have a letter. it’s important.“

He doesn’t say anything other than a quiet thanks as he unfolds the delicate paper, reading the words scribbled down. you can almost see the moment his spine stiffens and his blood feels like ice in his veins. kazuha is out of that door and jumping off the boat in a second, using his anemo vision to aid him in his sprint towards a certain inn.

He’ll be damned if he cares about getting caught. you have docked in liyue anyway, the chances were slim. all he cared about was reaching you in time.

The letter had been delivered to inform your fellow crew of your condition. you’d taken a hit from the blunt side of a mitachurl’s axe. it broke several bones on impact, but your arm had shielded most of the damage away from your ribs. you’d be extremely lucky if your arm healed back completely, though.

You’d been ushered to one of the upper floors of the Wangshu Inn by several adventurers who had found you on their way home, laying unconscious. your arm was broken, making even the seasoned adventurers wince at the sight of it. verr goldet had convinced the green-haired Adeptus living at the inn to deliver the letter, your condition was critical and your companions and loved ones needed to be notified of your whereabouts. after running the errand, however, he went back to his anti-social tendencies and disappeared against the mortal eye. he had no reason to be physically present with you .. but maybe he could watch over nearby and make sure you were breathing. just for verr goldet’s closure.

You can hear kazuha’s voice pierce the thick fog of your unconsciousness.

“Where are they ?! [ name ], i- i got a letter they were here and hurt, where are they ?!“ he calls, voice hoarse and you can almost hear the way his heart shatters in it. you don’t have the strength to open your eyes, but you can hear his light footsteps approaching the cot you’re resting on as the door opens.

Kazuha falls to his knees beside you, grabbing your unwrapped hand with his and holding it close to him, mumbling incoherent prayers to some god that you’re okay. you peek at him through your eyelashes, moving your hand to pet his hair.

“Kazu, you worry too much,” you speak.

A held breath leaves his body, and you can see his shoulders relax. unshed tears shine against his eyes, a shaky laugh leaving him.

“You worried me sick. what happened ? are you hurt ?”

You laugh. a weak sound leaving your beaten body, your hand once resting on kazuha’s hair moving to your shattered arm. “ … yeah.”

Kazuha’s eyebrows furrow and he stands to get a better view of your other arm. With how heavily it was bandaged, and the makeshift splint peeking through the layers of fabric and gauze, it wasn’t hard to figure out just how bad the injuries were. You had other bandages and bandaids scattered around your body, a few small ones on your face. kazu wordlessly presses soft kisses to each of the wounds on your upper body, scooping you into his arms. he’s mindful of your injury, keeping any and all pressure off of your arm.

Oh, how you wished you were in his arms again. the blue sky above you seemed to dull as you laugh. laugh at the gods for cursing you this way. left to bleed out on an expedition in jueyun karst. your previous break had left you with permanent injury in your arm, and though you could move it just fine, the range in which you could was not as good as it used to be. meaning, your entire side was exposed to enemy attack.

You knew how kazuha beat himself up that time. when you first broke your arm, he didn’t leave you alone until you had completely healed. apologies spewed from his mouth for the first few days. he was sorry he wasn’t there to protect you. how long it took him to get to you. sorry for not being the one to find you.

Knowing that, you almost hoped he didn’t find you. it would shatter him more than you just not returning home. it was such a warm place. you and kazuha shared many memories there. you grew closer there.

You let your eyes close, the blood loss making your eyelids feel like lead and your limbs feel like ice. maybe it wasn’t your delirious state that made the sky seem dull, as soft raindrops patter against your face, making your spilled blood travel with the water. does death feel warm, you wonder? as warm as kazuha’s hands around you? what you’d give to feel his arms around you one last time.

You’re too far gone to realize a warmth does embrace you until you’re physically shaken into consciousness. your eyes flutter and reveal a certain ronin dressed in red clothing. tears stream freely down his cheeks, his words nothing more than gibberish to you. you smile to yourself, cursing the gods once more to give the love of your life the pain of watching you die.

The downpour grows heavier, drenching both you and kazuha as it washes away every feeling from your body. with the little strength you have left, you lift a shaky hand and hold kazuha’s face. a smear of your blood is left from where you rub your thumb on his cheek, trying to reassure him with what you have.

“Kazuha, I love you. don’t you ever forget that” you murmur, and one of his own hands goes to cover the one holding his face.

“Don't talk like that. I’m going to save you, I won’t let you die here,” he speaks, but deep down you both know there’s no saving you. the edges of your vision go blurry as you lose the strength to hold your hand up, and kazuha does it for you.

“Swear to me. swear that you won’t forget how much i love you,” you whisper, and you can feel yourself letting your eyes close. if you have any hope of living, you know you need to keep them open. kazuha does too as he ushers you to look at him, to reopen your eyes, to say something. anything.

He can feel his will draining from his limbs as he hugs your dying body close to his. you’re cold, colder than any cryo beast he’s ever fought. colder than the rain falling on your bodies. you’re already gone, he realizes. pulling your body into his lap, he wraps an article of his clothing around you as he leans against a rock. letting the rain soak through his hair and into his clothes, he holds you close to him as your blood seeps into his clothing.

“I swear it.”

#genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha genshin impact #genshin impact angst #kazuha angst #velli.fics #kaedehara kazuha

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insaneoldme · 3 years ago

Note

Can you rec buddie fics? Pretty please?

OMG it's my time to shine, bitches!!!

Sorry if I went a little nuts, but this fandom has some of the best writers I've ever seen. I have 186 Buddie fics bookmarked in my AO3,

I'll link here if you are interested in taking a look cause if I put them all here it would be too long. Also, I tried to show here some fics I very rarely see recced, and a little bit o the classics. This fandom has some very underrated authors, everyone in my bookmarks is worth taking a look really.

Please take a look at the warnings before reading, enjoy!!!

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies (Rated E )

Buck and Eddie had always been unconventional. Neither of them gave it much thought – they were just them. Buck and Eddie - partners, best friends, co-parents – just as entangled in each other’s lives as any actual couple in the 118.

Or, the story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.

My Heart's Been Borrowed by ElvenSorceress (Rated E)

aka the one where Taylor gives Buck his ultimate fantasy and uncovers far more than either of them expected, forcing him to confront his long held feelings for Eddie

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by HMSLusitania (Rated E)

Buck 1.0 fathered a child and Buck 4.0 comes into custody.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) (Rated E)

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

Keep It On by R_E_R6 (Rated E)

When Eddie walks in on Buck, bent over in nothing but a hoodie, their plans for the night immediately change. Buck's outfit though? Well, Eddie requests that it stays the same...for reasons.

Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by ElvenSorceress (Rated T)

Buck nearly loses everything and Eddie has to follow his heart

hungry for your love by evcndiaz (Rated G)

prompt: "who’s gonna write a fanfic where chris is not cooperating with buck and eddie accidentally says “listen to your dad”?"

or; breadsticks are a metaphor for love and boning

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests (Rated M)

A glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

when things fall into place by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Eddie asks Buck to move in with them during lockdown to help look after Christopher, which leads to certain unresolved feelings being resolved.

Carbon Date Me, Excavate Me by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

Evan "Buck" Buckley has made a name for himself as the independent bad boy of archaeology. At least, until Professor Eddie Diaz shows up with his fedora and good looks and starts beating Buck to the punch more often than not.

Buck hates his stupid six-pack covered guts.

Except for how... he might not.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates (Rated E)

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.

But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie.

Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back.

He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head.

ripples all the way down by iriswests (Rated M)

christopher partakes in some parent trapping

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings (Rated M)

Evan Buckley is lost.

It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door.

Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name.

Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Hi, I’ve never made a Reddit post before and I’m not 100% sure what I’m doing but I need advice and can’t ask anyone in my real life. So, I [30M] have this best friend [34M]…

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico."

And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?"

In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

fireflies where my caution should be by littlesnowpea (Rated M)

“You never talk about your parents,” Eddie says, which is not even remotely what Buck expects Eddie to say. He frowns, tilts his head, but it isn’t a question, as evidenced by Eddie charging on. “I never asked because I figured it was your business, but the look on your face any time they’re brought up tells me you don’t get along.”

Buck swallows hard, against a lump in his throat. His parents? Eddie’s right, he never talks about them, for good reason. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, not sure what he’s even going to say.

Eddie takes it as the answer Buck is trying to make it out to be. He squeezes Buck’s wrist again, takes a deep breath, like he’s on a call with someone who’s panicking. Buck finds his breathing slowing to match Eddie’s, and Eddie nods as Buck gets it under control.

“There are people on the porch,” Eddie says, voice even. “Saying they want to meet their grandchild.”

Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

People like to flirt with Buck on calls. It kind of makes Buck uncomfortable.

And that makes Eddie frustrated.

I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea.

Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right?

There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

Memorable by JessicaMDawn (Rated T)

Six times Buck got recognized by people he saved during the tsunami, and how his team realized he was a hero.

All Bets are Off by NobodyKnows_U (Not Rated)

Or, the five times the firefam realized Buck and Eddie were in love, and the one-time Eddie finally did something about it.

fire on fire by extasiswings (Rated T)

Or: Buck and Eddie get in the habit of sharing a bed while living together during quarantine. It's platonic until it isn't.

Better Together by Randomfandombloggs09 (Not Rated)

5 times Eddie sees Buck wearing his last name and 1 time its not just his

Daddy and Pops by EdithBlake (Rated M)

When Christopher calls Buck 'Pops' things get a bit confusing. Buck and Eddie have a talk with Christopher that ends up with both of them being even more confused by how right it sounds.

the meaning of the words you see by florenceandthemachine (Rated E)

unknown sender: Hi!

unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run.

unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way.

sent: hey um

sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but

sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone

the dream you wish will come true by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Christopher Diaz cannot understand why his father would want to date his former teacher when Evan Buckley is right there.

vienna waits for you by mottainai (Not Rated)

Eddie doesn't deserve a soulmate.

Work Husband by hideeho (Rated T)

“What...what have you done with Buck?” Eddie is going to kill him for messing with his phone. No, that’s too extreme. He’s going to maim him. Just a little.

“Check under H,” Chim offers helpfully, shooting a look over to Hen with a smirk.

Why the hell would he be under—

Then he sees it.

Husband.

Bad Neighbors by firstdegreefangirl (Rated E)

Eddie's new neighbors are keeping him up all night. He calls on his best friend for a little taste of their own medicine.

Cross the Line by Sirencalls (Rated E)

Eddie laughs, short and quiet and almost to himself. “No. If you want to learn, then I’m gonna be the one to teach you.”

Buck is pretty sure his brain stops working. “What? Why?”

Eddie turns to look at him and steps closer, their chests only a few inches apart. “Because there are people out there who will take advantage of how naïve you are. They’ll hurt you, and I won’t.” Eddie’s eyes are so intense that Buck doesn’t have any choice but to believe him. “If you want someone to do this for you, to—to dominate you, it has to be me. I don’t trust anyone else to do it right.”

pretty in pink by dykeevans (Rated E)

Buck forgets that he and Eddie made plans to hang out until Eddie shows up and Buck's in the middle of laundry day.

His laundry day outfit consists of a small pink crop top and grey sweatpants.

Eddie loses his damn mind. Me too, though, me too.

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies (Rated G)

“Didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him.

“That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him.

-or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.

Something Old, Something New by dumbhuman (Rated E)

“Damn, I love weddings!” Buck’s face lit up as he closed the door.

If asked later, Eddie wouldn’t have been able to explain what came over him in that moment to make him ask the question. Or, at least, he wouldn’t have wanted to explain. The exhaustion was an easy excuse, but he knew deep down that it wasn’t a real one.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

one of the few things by thatnerdemryn (Rated G)

five times that Eddie tells someone else that Buck is Christopher's legal guardian plus one time he finally tells Buck.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

things we shouldn't do by Ingu (Rated T)

“Why is everybody taking my relationship status so personally? Can’t I be fine with being single?” Buck said.

“Hey, you don’t have to say yes, be sad and alone if that’s what you want,” Josh replied. “But, I’m just saying. I’ve seen photos and this guy is volcanic levels of hot. Also, single dad, super cute kid. Saves lives for a living like you. I think you should give it a go.”

(the one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there)

Keeping It In The Family by Wolves_of_Innistrad (Rated T)

A young man shows up at the firehouse looking for Buck. Turns out Javier was a Bartender with Buck in Mexico. He’s back in LA, looking to reconnect and very flirty. Cue Eddie realizing Buck is not as straight as he thought.

kiss me (like your ex is in the room) by rebeccaofsbfarm (Rated E)

Eddie Diaz gets drunk and protective and signs up for a fake double date to get back at his friend's ex.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania (Rated M)

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is… missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home

All my Buddie AO3 bookmarks

As I said this fandom has some very talented people, some of my favorite Authors's Tumblrs below, I recommend all the things they wrote and their blogs are very good.

@elvensorceress, @hmslusitania, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @extasiswings

For gifs:

@arrenemris, @skylessnights (very lovely AU gifsets)

@from-nova(good gifs & content)

For Podfics: @mistmarauder everything she ever read is amazing, her podfics are high quality and she has a very lovely voice and her presence calms me down lol I recommend it

I'm sorry there are a lot more people but I'm kinda in a rush haha most of the people I follow are amazing, but the ones I mentioned here are enough to get you started or entertained for a while.

Buddie fics are amazing, this pairing has spoiled me so much, everyone I met because of it is nice and so active and talented.

Sorry mutuals if I forgot someone!

I hope I helped Anon, have fun!

(Tell me if any link is wrong please, thanks)

#buddie #buddie recs #recs #fic recs #911 on fox #911fox #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ao3

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skopostheorie · 4 years ago

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understanding fujisaki chihiro’s personality via her talent (thereby explaining her actions in the killing game)

I’ve been having some thoughts swirling around in my head recently about Fujisaki My Beloved, so I’m trying to explain them in a stream of consciousness. Sorry if this is a little incoherent.

Fujisaki’s programming prowess was born out of necessity and adversity. Because she was too weak to play outside, and other kids terrorised her for being feminine and weak, she spent her time alone inside. This led to her messing around with her father’s laptop, and discovering she was actually a computer genius.

They say necessity is the father of invention, and you could arguably apply this to Fujisaki’s character. However, perhaps it would be better to word this as “adversity is the father of potential”. When faced with all these challenges in childhood – bullying, disadvantages, and eventually having to repress a major part of her identity* in hopes of being accepted – instead of completely shutting down, Fujisaki found one thing she could call her own – a programming hobby – and mastered it. In other words, when faced with adversity, as much as she may put herself down and see only her weakness that other people harassed her for, Fujisaki Chihiro rises up in some way or another, making something beautiful under the pressure. This programming genius is something uniquely Fujisaki. It is a core part of her identity, she is known for being the best in the country at what she does, she lights up when she gets to talk about the subject, she pours her heart and soul into her creations - so much so that her ultimate invention, Alter Ego, was made in her image (but we’ll get to that). Remembering that Fujisaki had to repress and hide one of the most important parts about herself – her “gender identity”* – in order to get by, it could even explain why she fell so in love with her programming.

Her ability to code was the one thing about her identity no one could really take from her, because for once no one had a problem with it; hell, it’s even notable that Fujisaki assumed Taichi was going to get angry at her for messing around with his computer (in a similar way to how Fujisaki was terrorised by her peers for everything she did, if not for the fact that it’s typically not very nice to mess with someone’s computer without permission) and her pleasant surprise at being supported and admired by her father for her skill gave her room to continue to hone her skills.

The TL;DR of all this is that it was only due to Fujisaki’s problems that she ended up falling into programming, becoming the best programmer in the entire country (at least for her age group, but she is hired by big companies so we can assume she does well among adults too), and creating all these amazing things. No matter what you make Fujisaki face, she will somehow make something incredible out of it. She will deal with hardships in surprising but often beautiful ways.

This is all a preface to the statement that Fujisaki’s actions upon being faced with the secrets motive, then, should come as no surprise. It’s tempting to view her choice to tell a trusted friend the truth about herself in such a possibly dangerous situation when faced with blackmail, as opposed to simply panicking and falling into despair, as her make-or-break moment, the decision in which her personality does a 180 and she changes forever. However, I feel this is doing a disservice to who she always had been, though she doesn’t really give herself credit for it. Fujisaki always had a tendency to take the bad situation she found herself in and produce something good out of it. It happened the moment she turned a computer on due to having no other options, so it obviously happened the moment the mastermind threatened Fujisaki with an outing that could ruin her life and she chose to subvert the Mastermind’s desires and take matters into her own hands. This ability is what granted her the metaphorical strength that towered over basically anyone else who ever held her physical weakness against her, and is an ability that, say, Oowada didn’t possess (but this isn’t about him).

And this is not only subtle but ever-present. Even after she dies. When she finds a broken, good-for-nothing laptop in Hope’s Peak, she (obviously) tinkers around with it and creates Alter Ego. What’s first of note, though I won’t expand on it too much, is that it was made in her own image - the only main difference is that it uses 僕 for itself, in a way Fujisaki could not due to wishing to conceal her true identity**. I’ve already mentioned how programming was basically the one part of Fujisaki’s identity she wasn’t terrorised for or needed to hide and how this most likely contributed to why she liked it so much – and Alter Ego is a demonstration of how Fujisaki therefore used programming as a means of being her true self*; creating a version of herself that she desires to be that lives behind the screen. And Alter Ego’s existence, especially in the Killing Game, is further proof of how she rises up against hardship. Some have theorised that Fujisaki made Alter Ego and put it in the locker that night because she knew she wouldn’t be alive much longer, and I’m inclined to agree. Her desire to help lives on, her desire to help her friends out of the KG lives on beyond Fujisaki herself. Through the bad situation – that is, her impending demise – she built something that helped her friends rise up against the Mastermind.

This disposition of Fujisaki’s is a direct juxtaposition to whatever the hell despair is (though Danron’s writers have a habit of forgetting that despair isn’t just, like, anything that hurts). Despair, being defined purely as “the absence of hope”, is the feeling that there is no longer anything that can be done is an undesirable situation. Fujisaki has been pushed into all sorts of corners and faced with constant ridicule from her peers just for being herself, but has always found some way to shine through. This is why it’s only natural that instead of hitting a brick wall when Monokuma announced the secrets motive, she used it as motivation to change and work towards being the strong person she had wanted to become since the beginning. This disposition surprised the Mastermind almost as much as it pissed her off, only being satisfied again when things turned sour for Fujisaki due to not fault of her own. Of course it would surprise the Mastermind, a brain so hooked on despair that anything which denies it power simply doesn’t add up.

And now we come to the obvious conclusion; that this is why Fujisaki is the character chosen to be “the one that lived on after death”. This one actually comes from an interview with the creators (which I reference a LOT)***, in which they state that Fujisaki’s programming talent was used as a means of making her a “revivable” sort of character. Knowing that what granted the other six survivors their right to survival was to battle against the despair of the KG, its motives, and the truth about The Tragedy, it makes sense that Fujisaki should survive alongside them somehow. It makes sense that Naegi having hope is how Alter Ego managed to save him. It makes sense that she’s a crucial part of the Future Foundation. Fujisaki cannot give into despair by design.

* as portrayed in canon, different to how it is perceived here ** however 僕女 exist *** warning for brief transphobic sentiment in interview

#long post #danronposting #put in the images bcos look at her :')

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heavensturtle · 3 years ago

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Day 1: Flower | Swords

A short fic for Day 1 of Xie Lian’s Birthday Week!

- - -

Note: Sorry this is a day late, I lost track of time.

Spoiler Alert: Book 4 spoilers.

- - -

Hong’er watches in silence as Xie Lian destroys the flower he’d placed before the prince’s broken statue.

“It wasn’t me,” he’d murmured when gege had confronted him, eyes wide in terror.

But who else could it have been? Ever since gege caught him all those years ago, Hong’er has only ever seen him. Only ever loved him. Only ever wanted him. He has left gege a flower every day, first outside the palace gates, then inside the little shrine with the dilapidated crown prince statue, and now before the god himself, the only interruption to this ritual being his time as a helpless ghost fire.

Worshipping gege is his most natural state.

But the gesture triggers something in Xie Lian, who rages against the tiny flower, smashing it into the ground under his shoe. It’s the worst thing Hong’er has ever done, forcing himself to stand wordlessly watching gege’s heart break in front of him.

I’ll never let them know I’m watching over them, he’d promised Xie Lian. So he stands still, even though all he wants is to pull the prince into his arms and hold him tightly against his body until the world ends.

You are good, he wants to say as he follows gege from the descrated temple. I’ll believe in you until you believe it too, he wants to say when gege sighs heavily.

Instead he says, “I hope Your Highness would give me this sword and permit me to activate the human face disease.”

It’s the only way he knows to protect gege from himself.

Gege refuses, as Hong’er suspected he would. He bows his head.

And then, before he can intervene, he sees gege stab himself in the stomach and feels the sword penetrate his own viscera. He’s a ghost, there’s no reason for him to feel anything this bodily. But he’s been tied to Xie Lian for so long now that the feeling doesn’t surprise him.

He kneels beside the Flower-Crowned Prince that night, listening to him babble incoherently and brushing sweat-stained hair back from his face. Once, he hears gege whimper I’m sorry. It was beautiful. And he’s glad he’s a ghost in that moment because if he were a human those words would have flattened him. As it is he simply stops breathing to hold back the shuddering noises his body is threatening.

He holds gege’s hand as he drifts in and out of consciousness. And then, as the sky begins to take on a dirty grey tinge, the prince throws himself out into the streets.

Hong’er, as Wuming, can do nothing now but wait.

When the spirits finally come, he knows what to do. After the sword is roughly knocked from the hands of someone about to stab gege, Hong’er calmly picks it up and walks a little ways from the crowd so he won’t be noticed.

He sees gege step out into the open and spread his arms to call the resentful spirits towards himself.

He can feel them cut through gege’s soul like shrapnel, and he knows without a doubt that if he lets it continue for even one more second gege will be utterly destroyed. Perhaps his body will survive, but -

The rest is easy. He stabs Fangxin into the ground, dragging the stream towards himself.

It works. The darkness enveloping gege dissipates.

For a brief second, gege’s eyes meet his behind the mask, and he feels - oh god, he feels like his soul is bursting from his ghost skin, he feels bigger than the sky, and he wants, he wants - oh god he wants!

He’d hoped they would have more time. It doesn’t matter. If all he ever gets is this moment it’s still worth it.

He smiles.

And then he’s screaming. The pain would be intolerable, except that he’s aware in some distant corner of his semi-consciousness that someone else has taken on the burden, too. He screams through his body disappearing, through his soul being pulverized. He screams and trembles knowing that this other person, the one he loves, is holding him through it.

And then he’s gone, his soul ripped apart like a corpse after vultures, but that tiny piece that’s left lying on the ground in the shape of a little white flower feels a spark as Xie Lian picks it up, cradles it in his hands. Xie Lian’s hands are so warm.

He feels gege’s confusion, his relief, but most of all his exhaustion. And he knows in that moment he will have to come back. He will have to stay, and keep on staying.

No! He wants to scream when gege asks to be banished again, Please! I’ll never find you that way. But he’s a sliver of a ghost inside a tiny white flower, and he’s barely able to hold onto even that thought before he’s gone, drifting out across the empty desolation of Xianle.

#hualian #tgcf novel #wuming #hua cheng #xie lian #XieLianWeek2021 #Day 1 #flower #sword

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ikingsley · 4 years ago

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Ina x MC: Late Nights

Summary: Ina misses a date she planned.

Warnings: Angst! Also warning for brief mentions of alcohol.

Tag: @samanthadalton @domakir @kulaykape @hellyeah90sbaby @dopeyouth @kwaj05 @thedaft1 @swimmingshoebakerydreamer

Author’s Notes: I wanted to provide a little more background on Luna, who’s a neuroscience major. I also was craving angst, so this is the product of that.

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

Friday @12:47 pm

Ina: I’ll see you at home tonight; remember, I’m cooking.

Luna: Oh lord 🙏

Ina: Hey! I promise it’ll be fine. All you need to do is show up. See you then, mi amor ❤️.

But now, it was almost 3 in the morning. The apartment was dark and quiet, except for the TV that was on at low volume. Luna was sprawled on the couch; she had knocked out a long time ago. What was supposed to be a fun date night with Ina had turned into a night of anguish for Luna.

Ina was supposed to come home early to cook — albeit a very basic meal, but nevertheless, a meal — for Luna. The two were supposed to play some Trivial Pursuit and then cuddle to a movie together. Little did they know that that was quite the opposite of what would really happen that night.

When Luna had arrived at Ina’s apartment to find Ina not there, she hadn’t been worried. She’d been held up in the office quite often before. A student asking for an extension, an administrator here and there...but as the minutes slid into hours, Luna began losing hope. And with that dissipating, Luna became more and more angry. She texted Ina multiple times, just to receive radio silence. She had to rearrange her volunteer schedule at the hospital for this, and Ina hadn’t even bothered to show up at her own place. For such a driven and brilliant woman, Ina could be so irritating.

Ina got out of the cab, lurching forward towards her apartment. She mumbled incoherently to herself as she fumbled with her keys. When she finally was able to let herself into her home, she stumbled over her own heels and fell down, subsequently causing a loud crash sound. Oh crap, she muttered.

Luna jumped up, already on high alert. She looked around, only to find Ina on the floor. Luna gave Ina a sad, disappointed look, but turned away as a tear fell from her eye. This seemed to slightly sober Ina up.

“Wait- Luna!” Ina said desperately, clawing at the floor, trying to get up. The cry in her voice caused Luna to turn around for a split second. “Can we please talk?”

“Ina, you’re too out of it to have a mature conversation. Christ, you reek,” Luna sighed, shaking her head and retreating to the bedroom.

It hadn’t been the first time Ina had come home intoxicated, but those times, Ina was funny, and Luna had taken care of her accordingly. More importantly, on those occasions, Ina hadn’t planned out a date night.

Ina poured herself a shot of coffee and downed it in an attempt to sober up. When she felt like she had gained some sort of consciousness, she walked towards the bedroom. Right before she had reached the doorway, she held herself back, drawing in a deep breath. The conversation that she wanted to take place was going to be heavy, and she knew it.

Luna was curled up on her own side of the bed, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone. Tears rolled down her face, onto the pillow, but she had no control over her them.

“Luna,” Ina breathed out. It was low, but very well enunciated.

“You’re welcome to sleep on the couch in the living room,” Luna said sarcastically.

“I know you’re mad. Today was supposed to be about us, and I blew it.”

Though Ina couldn’t see Luna, she felt her eye roll. “You really did.”

Ina walked over to Luna’s side of the bed and crouched down to meet Luna’s eyes. She was met with Luna shifting on the bed, rolling over so that Ina couldn’t see her crying.

“Oh, real mature,” Ina scoffed.

“Bye bye!” Luna said in a sing-songy voice.

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Ina snapped.

“MATURITY. She left when you came home, wasted and reeking on our date night. God, just go to sleep, Ina. It’s three in the morning. The couch is practically screeching your name,” Luna said as her voice finally broke. The sarcastic facade could only last a few moments. She pointed to the door, trying to get Ina to leave her alone.

Ina stood in the middle of the bedroom, just watching Luna cry. It hurt. She hurt Luna. What have I done, Ina reckoned, wiping at her own tears.

Finally, Ina trudged out of the room. She plopped herself on the couch; the only times she’d actually slept there were when Luna fell asleep in her arms, and she didn’t want to wake her.

When Ina left the room, Luna let out a sob, followed by a stream of tears. For the past few days, Ina had acted distant. Luna thought it would be a quick phase; Ina had publishing deadlines throughout the year. When a big deadline approached, Ina would immerse herself in her work, and Luna understood. Sure, she was clingy, but she knew how much work meant to Ina. And when Ina met the deadline, Luna was the first to congratulate her, and they’d celebrate together. But never had anything like this happen before. Never had Ina come home smelling this foul. Never had Ina missed a date she planned and seemed excited about. Most of all, never had she let Luna down like this before.

The two hugged themselves on their respective sleeping arrangements. Tears flowed freely and the women tossed and turned. By now, hours had gone by, and neither had slept a wink.

The sun had come up and light broke into the window. Luna huddled under the covers, acting as if the sun’s light was the reason she couldn’t sleep. At this point, she had stopped crying - she felt that her tear ducts couldn’t physically produce anything anymore.

“Luna, I love you,” Ina’s voice rang out.

Had that been real? The sleep-deprived young woman didn’t know if Ina had actually spoken to her or if that was a figment of her imagination, recalling happier times of Ina’s many love confessions.

“Luna,” The voice said again. “God! Just look at me! Please.”

Now, Luna knew she wasn’t hallucinating anymore. She pulled off the covers, facing Ina for the first time in hours. And with a quick glance, Luna discovered that Ina didn’t look much better than herself. It was evident that she also hadn’t slept, and dried tears stained her face.

Luna’s lower lip quivered, and she knew, somehow, she was about to cry again. And once again, she pulled the covers over her face.

“What can I do, Luna? You used to tell me I was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, and now you can’t even look at me.”

“Leave me alone,” Luna grumbled.

For a moment, there was silence, but then, Ina attacked. She yanked off the covers and pinned Luna down with her body.

“I love-” Ina cried out, but she was interrupted by the pain flashing through Luna’s eyes. It had only been a mere second, because Luna shut her eyes so promptly to ease her pain, but it had taken its toll.

God, what am I doing, Ina thought to herself, rolling onto the other side of the bed. For a while, the two just sat staring numbly at the ceiling. It was as if they were reflecting - physically together, but mentally, miles away.

It was Luna who clasped the other woman’s hand. Ina wasn’t expecting it, but she returned the grip.

“I’m really sorry, Luna,” Ina admitted. “I’m such an ass.”

“I know you’re stressed, it’s fine-”

“It really isn’t, Luna. I made a commitment, and I failed to follow through.”

“I’m more disappointed than mad or anything else, really.”

And if this was supposed to be any sort of consolation to Ina, it really wasn’t. Somehow, her heart dropped even further into her chest. Having disappointed Luna was worse than upsetting her.

The two sat in silence for a long time, contemplating. They could hear each other’s sniffles every so often, followed by them clearing their throats. Their hearts still beat together as one, even after feeling so apart.

“Ina?” Luna questioned, releasing her hand from Ina’s hand. She moved to face her as Ina did the same.

Before, Ina had only seen glimpses of her lover, but now, it was all real. Luna’s face was now wet with tears, but she still had a small, sad smile on her face. That smile. It was the one that broke her heart into a million pieces, something that only Luna knew how to put back together.

Ina shut her eyes, trying to not let herself cry for the umpteenth time in a span of 12 hours.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” Luna asked sympathetically. Ina just shook her head, looking back at the ceiling through her tear-glazed eyes. She reached out to Ina to cup her face. “Ina, look at me. What’s wrong?”

“Look at you. I was the one who screwed up, and now you’re comforting me,” Ina said, letting out a quick breath. This girl was truly something else.

“Missing a date night...that’s not like you. At all. So something’s up, and you’re not telling me,” Luna said intuitively.

“I-” Ina began, but her voice wavered, and a sob followed.

“Come here,” Luna said, opening up her arms.

Ina inched towards Luna, and Luna wrapped her arms around Ina. They stayed like this for a while, until Luna brought her hand around to wipe away Ina’s tears.

“Ever since you started volunteering at the hospital, I feel like we’ve...grown apart,” Ina said.

“I- I’m not sure what to say to that, Ina. I have to focus on my own future, just like you had to in college,” Luna said back softly.

“I know, I know. I’m not asking you to drop it or anything like that. I know you’ll need some kind of experience for med school. I’m just...worried about us,” Ina admitted.

“Is that why you were drinking tonight?” Luna asked.

“Well, my paper was one reason, but then I began thinking about us. How much you’ve grown since we met. And now, you’re about to take the MCAT. You’re already so busy now; imagine when you get into med school and become a famous neuroscientist.”

“We’ve both always been busy, but we’ve managed it. You’re so important to me, Ina. And don’t you forget it. Because I won’t. My future is important, but mainly because you’re gonna be a huge part of it.”

Ina smiled slowly, meeting Luna’s eyes. “How do you always know what to say?”

“Because we’ve been through hell and back, Ina.” That glimmer in Luna’s eyes was back, giving Ina the confidence she needed.

“You know, you’re right. As a great poet once said, ‘Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey,’” Ina chuckled.

“Oh god, you’re quoting Lord Byron now?” Luna broke out into a laughing fit.

“He defined poetry from the Romantic period! Maybe he didn’t find his own...person, but he was a great poet.”

“Well, you’re my person, and I’m yours. You’re not losing me, and you never will. We’re practically stuck together for eternity,” Luna jested.

“There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with,” Ina grinned.

#ina kingsley #ina x mc #queen b #choices stories you play #luna garcia

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shimmershae · 3 years ago

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Just watched the episode and I’m going to have a lot of thoughts for you, most of them probably bordering on incoherence (LOL) so this is your last chance to nope on out of this post because I’m going to go ahead and put everything else behind a cut to save the eyes that do not want to see any spoilers at all. Unlike mine, that very much wanted to see but in a lot of cases? Could not see shit, but I digress.

Shae’s stream of consciousness coming at you in 3-2-1.

First of all, can I saw how good it is to have my show back again? Like, no. I don’t quite have Season 5 levels of excitement about the new/last season, but it is definitely nice to have all these characters back.

So all these thoughts of mine. Okay. Bear with me because there be a whole lot of them, lol.

My immediate impression as the episode opened was WHOA. Such a cool shot of Daryl with one light wing, one dark wing (representing the two sides to Daryl maybe--the man of honor versus the man he was raised to be, hmm?) looking out over some dark vista of something. Seriously. It’s dark. My room is also dark at the moment and still I was squinting to see. To make out what I’m “looking” at. I really, really hope the rest of this season isn’t this hard to make out.

Is that a tank? Kinda sorta a callback to Rick’s first episode? If so, cool. If not, well. Us fans have always put way more thought into things. For real. Change my mind.

Holy intense eye contact, Batman! Daryl Dixon has literally never looked at anyone--not BethusConLeah--in quite the same smoldering way as he looks at Carol. It’s next level. I don’t know why people be fooling themselves into thinking different.

Let’s see. I can make out--besides Daryl, Maggie, and that face mask dude I already forgot the name of--Kelly, Magna, Jerry (who’s that with him?), and Carol. Sorry. My world, like Daryl’s, inevitably narrows to Carol. She’s loking fierce and fine AF per usual.

Was that Rosita I noticed rewinding to relive Daryl eye-fucking Carol?

I’m guessing this is the army base they talked about in 10C.

That Walker perking up like “I smell food--pancakes and bacon and oohhhh” has me giggling inappropriately right off the bat. WTF.

Look at all my fabulous ladies tiptoeing through that Walker minefield. And Carol spotting that gun that might be useful right away. Listen, if you don’t think her mind ain’t always ten steps ahead of everybody else’s, you’d be wrong.

So. Are these Walkers just so old and feeble not even the call of fresh meat attracts them? Because just tiptoeing through their midst without the knockoff Lady Gaga meatsuits or skin masks has never really worked before that I can remember.

I just want to see most of this season. Is that really too much to ask? Don’t X-Files and Game of Thrones us, Angela. Please and thank you very fucking much.

Okay. Is the one drop of blood thing making anybody else have 28 Days Later vibes? Kinda? Sorta? No? Just me? Okay then. Carry on.

Wait a minute, though. How they be explaining how Daryl keeeps acquiring all these new tats all the time? Hmm? It’s like they just quit giving a shit about continuity in these latter seasons.

I mean. Do Walkers sleep now? LMAO. What is this? I guess they’re constantly evolving?

There’s my baby Lydia. Love my smol bean.

Alright though. I love to see the ladies of TWD kick some ass. It’s very gratifying. Gimps would never. Thank you, Angela.

Clever, resourceful, calm and collected, quick thinking Carol to the rescue! Seriously. Her haters must be withering away inside with absolute envy.

Hey, ya’ll. Remember when Carol was still mastering her sharpshooting skills at the Prison yard and shot at Rick’s feet? Her little “sorry, sorry”? LOL. If Rick could only see her now. Wait. He already knew what so many of his stans refuse to acknowledge--Carol=ultimate survivor and true savior to the group many times over.

Maggie’s got herself a gun, too. Go my badass girls.

Of course, Carol’s got everybody’s back. Of fucking course, Daryl’s got hers even when everybody else seem frozen in some kind of awe or stupification or something. Microcosm of the whole damn show right there.

Carol’s like “here’s your knives, love of my life.”

Eh. Maybe that’s just me.

Nah. She’s totally thinking it, too.

YAS! YAS! Norman Reedus and Melissa McBride with the top billing. How very far my babies have come.

Listen. I miss all the characters we’ve lost. Absolutely. But I love the ones that are still with us, that have been with us for so very long so hard. Whether I love their stories or decisions or not.

Is that THE Alexandria sign? That sign’s been through some shit.

DOG! Daryl kneeling to embrace our Grimes babies has me all up in my feels. And how cute is Dog getting all excited and making sure he’s the first one there to welcome back, Daddy?

Hershel is literally just as puppy dog cute as Glenn ever was. Really some Grade A casting.

What did Maggie call Mr. T? Ducky? Dougie? Sometimes with Maggie? I really cannot tell. Anyway. He’s Mr. T. for me until I find out differently, probably through rewatching with close captioning, lol.

Maggie’s got more people. So. Some new redshirts to sacrifice for plot purposes. I don’t know if I should bother learning their names or not.

I seem to remember Meridian being mentioned in one of the episode synopses.

Sophia’s hair tie around Carol’s neck will never fail to be an emotional throat punch. My heart.

“They come at night and by the time you see them, you’re already dead.” Welp. Guess that means we ain’t seeing shit for at least this first third of the season, lol. Very horror-eque though.

“You’re leaving to fight ghosts.” Aaron, to Maggie. So I see Aaron’s the type to get the hell outta Dodge when the Boogeyman comes calling, hahaha. Least he was. In the old world.

Rosita’s pissed off expression at Gabe’s decision to volunteer for the so-called suicide mission gives me life.

My baby Carol is tired AF of suicide missions. You can tell. Also? Methinks she has something to prove to Daryl here. Or at least feels like she does.

Dog with his little tactical vest. I love it.

I guess I get why they had Carol and Rosita stay behind. They had to more evenly split up the badassery to make things more fair and balanced, lol.

Okay. So Negan’s definitely earned everybody’s disdain. But they’re being woefully short-sighted by not at least hearing the dude out. Isn’t he at least native to the area?

“That is God telling us to turn around.” I’m actually on Negan’s side with this one, but Gabe answering him with “I’m pretty sure he would have run that past me first” has me howling with laughter. Father Gabe has gone straight up savage in these last couple of seasons. Rosita’s influence, perhaps?

I see what Angela is doing. Trying to make Negan the voice of reason. In this particular case? It’s kind of working. I’m still ultimately on Maggie’s side with this though BECAUSE GLENN.

Imagine showing up to work and unironically dressing like a storm trooper every day. Excuse me while I LOL.

Even in the ZA, there’s bullshit paperwork.

“Pumpkin colored spacesuit.” Good one, Ezekiel.

LOL forever. I love Princess.

“Michonne. Our Michonne shut people out of Alexandria for years.” Timely reminder that choices aren’t always perfect. Neither are people.

WTF is reprocessing? Sounds ominous. LMAO at Eugene’s “Okay. We gotta go.”

What in the actual hell with all those bagged, squirming undead? Creepy AF in that subway tunnel.

Should I just go ahead and call that the Easter bunny? We’ve had some version of it pop up since Season 1.

Is it stubborn pride with Maggie or what? Why go through with something when all signs point toward the wisdom of stopping? You can argue that she’s acting similarly to Carol last season, but there’s a huge difference here folks. Carol did her damndest to Lone Wolf that shit and minimize the danger to those she loved. Maggie’s straight up enlisting those she “cares about” to carry out her mission of revenge or vengeance, what have you. Let’s see if she gets near the amount of hate for it. Personally, I don’t blame her for her feelings one bit. They are valid. But her knowingly drawing the others into the game? That’s my sticking point. That’s how she and Carol differ, even if some people refuse to see or accept it. Anyway. Hopping right on off my soapbox.

“Why don’t you get up on your little tippy toes and try?” Omigosh, I’d dying. When I tell you I about passed out with laughter, I do not exaggerate. I should hate Negan forever and I do. Really. But I adore JDM and he frequently makes me LOL. He’s made Negan entertaining if not completely redeemable since Angela took over and more layered so I say kudos.

He has a point about Maggie playing dictator. Damn you, show, for slanting the writing just that smidgen that makes Negan make sense over his victim. I guess, though, it’s better this way. Gives both characters more shades of gray.

“He’s a dick but he makes sense.” I feel like this is Angela calling us all out when we dare to harbor any lasting resentment toward Negan for what he did to Glenn.

Speaking of--Negan. You deserved Daryl’s punch to the mouth. You just went a bridge too damn far.

“Keep pushing me, Negan. Please.” Warning shots fired, Asshole. You better watch yourself around the Widow Rhee.

Have I mentioned how much I love Princess? Her shipping the Commonwealth guards is killing me, lol. I can’t wait ‘til she meets Carol and Daryl. She’s going to have their number in two seconds flat.

I like Ezekiel and Princess as a duo. I’m not saying romantically necessarily. I just like them in scenes together because they’re fun. There’s sort of a protective indulgence Ezekiel seems to telegraph whenever they’re in scenes together. Like he’s like don’t hurt this one. I don’t know. For all these words I’ve written, I can’t quite find the ones to adequately describe what I mean.

The wall of the lost gives me such Battlestar Galactica feels. What sad thoughts it inspires.

Eugene in that Commonwealth gear. Omigosh, lol. So did they just sneak up and take Princess’s little Commonwealth ship’s gear when they were sneaking off on their own to have a quickie?

Princess finding that note for Yumiko on the wall actually gave me chills. Yeah. I’m easy. Just the suggestion of someone getting reunited with lost family gets me all up in my feels. Yumiko saying “I have to stay”? I felt that.

Oh no. Dog ran off! Somebody protect my favorite fictional puppy. Of course, Daryl goes after him. He’s always been the sweet one. Merle said it.

Eh. Negan taking Maggie’s hand at the end there would have smacked too much of Negan Sue and Maggie’s biggest plot of the season would have been prematurely dealt with so I get why they did what they did. But c’mon. It’s not really that big of a cliffhanger, is it?

Okay, so Angela calls those sleeping beauty Walkers “Lurkers” and I get it. Apparently they’re a bigger deal in the comics, but I really don’t remember seeing them all that much on the actual show. Somebody jog my memory.

Of fucking course, you can actually see what’s happening in the inside the episode clips. I wish we could choose to view the episode with that lighting because some of us be blind. And this time I mean in the more literal sense. Not the figurative one.

Anyway. I’m going to stop trying to write a novel for ya’ll and move on to better things. Like maybe a nap. Maybe some early dinner. I don’t know. I’m tired AF and need a little recharge.

Before I go, though? Overall impression of the episode? I liked it. There were parts that I loved (all the ladies being badass, every second of Carol, Daryl reuniting with the Grimes babies and Dog, all things Princess, some of Negan’s one-liners about had me busting a gut, Rosita serving looks, Kelly and Lydia getting to be badass too) and parts I didn’t love (not being able to see a damn thing, Angela trying to tip the scales in Negan’s favor, not enough Carol or Aaron or Rosita, no reunion between Aunt Carol and the Grimes babies even though that picture floating around suggests it was at least shot, not being able to see a damn thing, all the Alexandria people playing follow the leader for Maggie when she’s been gone 6 years and Daryl’s right there--hell, even Father G deserves the honor over her because it’s obvious they’re not exactly on the same wavelength anymore).

I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m just glad to have our show back.

Later, lovelies.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #spoilers #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #and giggle and giggle

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reachexceedinggrasp · 4 years ago

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Would love to hear about your beefs with Lucas because I have beefs with Lucas

(Sorry it took me three thousand years to answer this, anon.)

They mainly fall under a few headings, with the third being the most serious and the thing that I am genuinely irl furious about at least biannually (and feeling unable to adequately sum up The Problem with it after yelling about it so often is a huge part of why this post has been in my drafts for such a long time):

1. His self-mythologising and the subsequent uncritical repetition of his bullshit in the fandom. Obvious lies like that he had some master plan for 10 films when it’s clear he did not have anything like a plot outline at any point. We all know the thing was written at the seat of various people’s pants, it’s blatantly self-evident that’s the case. There’s also plenty of public record about how the OT was written. Even dumber, more obvious lies, like that Anakin was ‘always the protagonist’ and the entire 6 films were his story from the beginning. This is preposterous and every time someone brings it up (usually with palpable smugness) as fanboys ‘not understanding star wars’ because they don't get that ‘the OT is not Luke's story’... Yeah, I just... I cannot.

Vader wasn’t Anakin Skywalker until ESB, it’s a retcon. It’s a brilliant retcon and it works perfectly, it elevated SW into something timeless and special it otherwise would not have been, but you can tell it wasn’t the original plan and there’s proof it wasn’t the original plan. Let’s not pretend. And Luke is the protagonist. No amount of waffling about such esoteric flights of theory as ‘ring structure’ is going to get away from the rigidly orthodox narrative and the indisputable fact that it is Luke’s hero’s journey. Vader’s redemption isn’t about his character development (he has almost none) and has no basis in any kind of convincing psychological reality for his character, but it doesn’t need to be because it’s part of Luke’s arc, because Vader is entirely a foil in Luke’s story. It’s a coming-of-age myth about confronting and growing beyond the father.

All attempts to de-centre Luke in RotJ just break the OT’s narrative logic. It’s a character-driven story and the character driving is Luke. Trying to read it as Anakin’s victory, the moral culmination of his choices rather than Luke’s and putting all the agency into Anakin’s hands just destroys the trilogy’s coherence and ignores most of its content in favour of appropriating a handful of scenes into an arc existing only in the prequels. The dilemma of RotJ is how Luke will define ethical adulthood after learning and growing through two previous films worth of challenge, education, failure, and triumph; it’s his choice to love his father and throw down his sword which answers the question the entire story has been asking. Vader’s redemption and the restoration of the galaxy are the consequences of that choice which tell us what kind of world we’re in, but the major dramatic conflict was resolved by Luke’s decision not the response to it.

And, just all over, the idea of Lucas as an infallible auteur is inaccurate and annoying to me. Obviously he’s a tremendous creative force and we wouldn’t have sw without him, but he didn’t create it alone or out of whole cloth. The OT was a very collaborative effort and that’s why it’s what it is and the prequels are what they are. Speaking of which.

2. The hubris of the prequels in general and all the damage their many terrible, protected-from-editors choices do to the symbolic fabric of the sw universe. Midicholrians, Yoda fighting with a lightsabre, Obi-wan as Anakin's surrogate father instead of his peer, incoherent and unmotivated character arcs, the laundry list of serious and meaningful continuity errors, the bad storytelling, the bad direction, the bad characterisation, the shallowness of the parallels which undermine the OT’s imagery, the very clumsy and contradictory way the A/P romance was handled, the weird attitude to romance in general, it goeth on. I don’t want to re-litigate the entire PT here and I’m not going to, but they are both bad as films and bad as prequels. The main idea of them, to add Anakin’s pov and create an actual arc for him as well as to flesh out the themes of compassion and redemption, was totally appropriate. The concept works as a narrative unit, there are lots of powerful thematic elements they introduce, they have a lot of cool building blocks, it’s only in execution and detail that they do a bunch of irreparable harm.

But the constant refrain that only ageing fanboys don’t like them and they only don’t like them because of their themes or because they humanise Anakin... can we not. The shoddy film making in the prequels is an objective fact. If you want to overlook the bad parts for the good or prioritise ideas over technique, that’s fine, but don’t sit here and tell me they’re masterworks of cinema there can be no valid reason to criticise. I was the exact right age for them when I saw them, I am fully on board with the fairy tale nature of sw, I am fully on board with humanising Anakin- the prequels just have a lot of very big problems with a) their scripts and b) their direction, especially of dialogue scenes. If Lucas had acknowledged his limitations like he did back in the day instead of believing his own press, he could have again had the help he obviously needed instead of embarrassing himself.

3. Killing and suppressing the original original trilogy. I consider the fact that the actual original films are not currently available in any form, have never been available in an archival format, and have not been presented in acceptable quality since the VHS release a very troubling case study in the problems of corporate-owned art. LF seizing prints of the films whenever they are shown, destroying the in-camera negatives to make the special editions with no plans to restore them, and doing all in the company’s considerable power to suppress the original versions is something I consider an act of cultural vandalism. The OT defined a whole generation of Hollywood. It had a global impact on popular entertainment. ANH is considered so historically significant it was one of the first films added to the US Library of Congress (Lucas refused to provide even them with a print of the theatrical release, so they made their own viewable scan from the 70s copyright submission).

The fact that the films which made that impact cannot be legally accessed by the public is offensive to me. The fact that Lucas has seen fit to dub over or composite out entire performances (deleting certain actors from the films), to dramatically alter the composition of shots chosen by the original directors, to radically change the entire stylistic tone by completely reinventing the films’ colour timing in attempt to make them match the plasticy palate of the prequels, to shoot new scenes for movies he DID NOT DIRECT, add entire sequences or re-edit existing sequences to the point of being unrecognisable etc. etc. is NOT OKAY WITH ME when he insists that his versions be the ONLY ones available.

I’m okay with the Special Editions existing, though I think they’re mostly... not good... but I’m not okay with them replacing the original films. And all people can say is ‘well, they’re his movies’.

Lucas may have clear legal ownership in the capitalistic sense, but in no way does he have clear artistic ownership. Forget the fans, I’m not one of those people who argue the fans are owed something: A film is always a collaborative exercise and almost never can it be said that the end product is the ultimate responsibility and possession of one person. Even the auteur directors aren't the sole creative vision, even a triple threat like Orson Welles still had cinematographers and production designers, etc. Hundreds of artists work on films. Neither a writer nor a director (nor one person who is both) is The Artist behind a film the way a novelist is The Artist behind a novel. And Lucas did NOT write the screenplays for or direct ESB or RotJ. So in what sense does he have a moral right to alter those films from what the people primarily involved in making them deemed the final product? In what sense would he have the right to make a years-later revision the ONLY version even if he WERE the director?

Then you get into the issue of the immeasurable cultural impact those films had in their original form and the imperative to preserve something that is defining to the history of film and the state of the zeitgeist. I don't think there is any ‘fan entitlement’ involved in saying the originals belonged to the world after being part of its consciousness for decades and it is doing violence to the artistic record to try to erase the films which actually occupied that space. It's exactly like trying to replace every copy of It's a Wonderful Life with a colourised version (well, it's worse but still), and that was something Lucas himself railed against. It’s like if Michaelangelo were miraculously resuscitated and he decided to repaint the Sistine Ceiling to add a gunfight and change his style to something contemporary.

I get genuinely very upset at the cold reality that generations of people are watching sw for the first time and it’s the fucking SE-except-worse they’re seeing. And as fewer people keep physical media and the US corporate oligarchy continues to perform censorship and rewrite history on its streaming services unchecked by any kind of public welfare concerns, you’ll see more and more ‘real Mandela effect’ type shit where the cultural record has suddenly ‘always’ been in line with whatever they want it to be just now. And US media continues to infect us all with its insidious ubiquity. I think misrepresenting and censoring the past is an objectively bad thing and we can’t learn from things we pretend never happened, but apparently not many people are worried about handing the keys to our collective experience to Disney and Amazon.

4. The ‘Jedi don’t marry’ thing and how he wanted this to continue with Luke post-RotJ, so it’s obviously not meant to be part of what was wrong with the order in the prequels. I find this... incoherent on a storytelling level. The moral of the anidala story then indeed becomes just plain ‘romantic love is bad and will make you crazy’, rather than the charitable reading of the prequels which I ascribe to, which is that the problem isn’t Anakin’s love for Padmé, it’s that he ceased to love her and began to covet her. And I can’t help but feel this attitude is maybe an expression of GL’s issues with women following his divorce. I don’t remember if there’s evidence to contradict that take, since it’s been some time since I read about this but yeah. ANH absolutely does sow seeds for possible Luke/Leia development and GL was still married while working on that film. Subsequently he was dead set against Luke ever having a relationship and decided Jedi could not marry. Coincidence?

There’s a lot of blinking red ‘issues with women’ warning signs all over Lucas’s work, but the prequels are really... egregious.

#sw #salt #more unhinged rambling #anyway dowload the despecialised editions #unsubscribe from Disney+#be free #usually we'd be having a big family thing for Boxing Day but you know #so God bless us all at home separately #I hope everyone had as happy a Christmas as possible in keeping with the situation #I should see if I can drag my brother outside to build a snowman

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horsegirlneigh · 3 years ago

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pls review the current les mis cast 🥺

You are my first anon in 5 years God bless you.

I was about to say “I can’t really review them as I don’t feel I’ve seen them enough” but then I realised that actually I’ve seen them 5 times now...

The last time I "reviewed" a cast was the 2013 cast change and people got very angry at me...I can't remember the details. So Disclaimer: these are just my personal opinions more in the form of a stream of consciousness than a review....

Also this is going under a cut because its long and incoherent and I don’t actually think anyone wants to read it...

Jon as Valjean I was not expecting to like him but I really do. He seems very suited to the concert shows too, his voice has matured so much since his Marius days and I really am quite blown away by him in One Day More. He can be a little more aggressive than I would like during some moments and i do wish he would sing slightly softer (and slower...) at some points, but I don't know if thats his fault or the direction because it has been years since we had a Valjean that wasn't aggressive...and the conductor doesn’t seem to let anyone carry a note any longer than strictly necessary. Basically I think if the production and direction were the same as it was in 2009 Jon could be up there with the old guard fan favourites. (But he’ll probably continue to play it in the modern “”gritty””” Tom Hooper way sadly)

Bradley as Javert.... Is he good or is he just tall....? He is a beautiful man and I love all his pretty hairstyles, he also has a wonderful voice.....he just doesn't seem to use it when he plays Javert. I'm not a vocal expert, I couldn't carry a tune if you handed it to me in bucket but even I can tell his technique (in Stars especially) is all over the place. Maybe someone else can clear up what he is doing with his mouth...when I first heard it I thought he was trying to put on an ‘evil voice’ but he doesn’t do it all the time it seems to just be on the lower notes. I also feel he is a little too angry and chaotic for my personal taste, while his Suicide is captivating to watch and actually reduced me to tears once it is not very in character for Javert in my opinion. But then again I think this may be down to direction, Javerts have been getting gradually more chaotic for years.

Lucie as Fantine: Okay I’ll get it over with first: why is she a brunette? I know it shouldn’t matter but it annoys me so much. To tell you the truth its been a really really long time since I’ve actually loved a Fantine, I either put up with them or just loathe them. Lucie is in the middle. I have no strong feelings either way. I’m not personally a fan of the IDAD riff....I know this is a concert but I don’t like how les mis is being reduced to a compilation of its Big Songs. As a sung through musical the songs should just carry effortlessly into one another and tell the story....unless you’re doing the michael ball lick on your muck up matinee I’m not into vocal riffs and the like. Unless its somehow adding to the emotional delivery of the song, its distracting and, I think, especially inappropriate in the character songs.

Jamie Muscato as Enjolras I love him. He is vocally strong and as the weeks go by he is getting more and more into the character. I especially enjoy his “Marius, you’re late” and he a pro and dying....So angelic...it almost......almost.....has the impact of a death in an actual staged show.

Harry as Marius He is very sweet and I can’t really find much fault in him. I don’t think he and Charlie’s Cosette have a great chemistry but I thought he was adorable with Holly.

Shan as Eponine I don’t love her and I don’t dislike her either.... She has a good voice but I don’t really feel she brings anything new. But then of course its very hard to tell when she can’t interact with anyone, an Eponine’s performance can sometimes be made by her reactions.

Charlie as Cosette Sorry but I find her so boring...In My Life is when I start thinking about what I’m going to do in the interval...

The Thenardiers It is difficult to care about the Thenardiers....I do however like Josefina, she has a good energy and comic timing and other than the bizarre Quiche line I have no complaints about Gerard really... Cameron covering Thenardier was enormous fun but mostly because he was having the time of his life. The only Thenardier I’ve ver been seriously impressed with is that one understudy with a northern irish accent I saw years ago and I don’t even know his name (oh god for shame...)

The real stars of the show are of course Earl Carpenter as the Bishop and aproned gentleman, Will Barratt as Major Domo, and Cameron Blakely. Also special mention to Aaron Pryce Lewis who’s vocals are amazing.

I could probably go into more detail but this is already waaay too long. I also apologise for my inability to express myself properly, I haven’t written anything other than emails for almost a year....

#my stupid opinions #anon

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milkywinnie · 4 years ago

Text

"𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧" || PRINCE ZUKO

𝟎𝟎. 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 (2,579 Words)

"You know, I live with many regrets, but the biggest things I regret at this moment was not bringing a jacket..."

You huffed, shivering from the cool breeze that swept past in your direction. Shakily, you rubbed your hands together, and lifted them next to each other to ignite a small flame from within your palms.

'It's so cold that I have to spare my breaths.' You sighed, spreading out the map down on the wooden surface. "I need to find a village soon. My food supply is running low." Ever since you had escaped from the Fire Nation and its kingdom, times have never been harder, especially knowing that you're constantly on the run.

The water currents shifted and swayed in a variety of directions, signaling the upcoming of a dangerous storm. "Oh no...! This can't be any good." You clenched your fists, discarding of the flames rising upon your palms, and rushed to find a secure shore to rest upon.

The tides raised chaotically as you let out a muffled scream as the waves crashed against the frail boat. With haste, you tucked the letter securely into your bag, before you felt your body being submerged into the icy waters below you. 'I can't go out like this...! I have to find the Avatar!'

But the air escaping from your lungs refused your desire to call for help. Desperately, you clung onto a scrap from the broken boat. "Someone, please..." You coughed out, your consciousness slipping from your being, feeling your body become lethargic, and your mind hazy and clouded.

In the distance, figures approached you, but they were too late - you had passed out.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When you woke up, you realized that you were in an area unfamiliar of your own. "W-Where the hell am I...?" You murmured softly, lifting yourself from upon the firm polar bear skin you were snuggling upon. All you could actually recognize was the throbbing headache that was pounding against your head.

"Hey, I think she's waking up!" A feminine voice exclaimed, causing you to rise from your dazed state. "Who's there?" You stated in a demanding tone as you scrambled from the floor to get into your fighting stance. "O-Oh, don't worry! I'm not a threat to you!"

You skeptically glanced over at the pretty, young girl in front of you. Her long, deep brown hair that was braided into a singular braid. Her sapphire-colored eyes shined brightly - maybe out of fear or bewilderment from your actions.

Her custom tribal clothing let alone made you immediately aware of the fact she was from the Water Tribe, and knowing your directions, most likely from the southern district.

"My name is Katara, and I come in peace. My brother and I found you washed upon a glacier." She introduced herself, extending a hand out in your direction. Relaxing your posture, you shook her extended hand. "Thank you for rescuing, I'm in your gratitude." You thanked her, before pulling your hand away.

"I'm sorry, but where is my bag? I must continue my venture as quickly as possible." You wondered, looking aimlessly in multiple directions in search of you beaten and probably soaked luggage, much like your cloak.

"Oh, everything was soaked to the bone in that bag, so my tribe took the custody into warming it up." Katara explained, placing a bowl of soup down on the low tea table in front of you. "I'm sorry, but I must be on my way! I have to meet up with the Avatar!" You instantly froze at her statement.

"The Avatar?!" You yelled, rushing up to her to clutch her shoulders tightly. Katara, obviously, flinched from your sudden burst of energy, but she nodded nonetheless. "Yes... His name is Aang, and he brought us back here while we were trying to reach out to you."

You were completely stunned with the news that you had received. "T-This is amazing! I'm actually speechless!" You gasped in amazement as you giddily embraced the younger girl into a hug. "Yeah, I definitely agree!" She beamed, hugging you back. Now that you've realized that your hunt was over, you felt a little more at ease.

"Wow, Katara, real professional, and you say I couldn't snuggle up with her while trying to warm her up." A make voice whined with disbelief. "And I'm going to assume that he's the brother you speak of, right?" The both of you giggled, pulling away from the rather warm hug.

"Hey, the name's Sokka, gorgeous." "And I'm not interested, lover boy." You hummed, winking playfully at the boy in front of you. His brown hair was shaved amongst most of its perimeter, leaving him with a parting on the top of his hair, which was formed into a bun. The boy, most likely the same age as you, eyes burned in your direction, mentally plotting as to what to do next.

He wore a familiar uniform, much like Katara's, but with his own weaponry slung around him. "But now..." Sokka began, before aiming his dagger, which was constructed into the form of a boomerang, pointing directly at you.

"What are you doing within this region?" He sneered shakily, but his voice demanded answers. You chuckled at his brute approach, watching how Katara attempted to calm her elder brother down. "Me? I'm just a mere traveler who sought to travel the world..."

The lies slipped past your lips with ease as you faked a wry smile. "It was so frightening on my own, and I appreciate such kind, humble citizens like yourself saving me." Sokka and Katara exchanged glances between themselves, watching their facial expressions shift into ones that displayed guilt.

"It's no problem, miss, really." Katara comforted, patting your shoulder gently. Sokka released a stream of incoherent words muffled under his breath in defeat.

"Fine, she can stay a little while longer, but by sunrise she must go." Sokka declared, looking over at you. you could feel his distraught, suspicious demeanor still wavering from off of him, but for now, you knew that you were in the clear.

"Great! Now you can stay, and even meet the Avatar!" Katara grinned happily, pulling you along outside of the tent. You squinted from the harsh sunlight that was being emitted, and reflecting from the pale white snow. Looking further, you noticed several little children and adults in awe, watching an entity fly throughout the cool winds.

You couldn't believe it, you were in amazement to the sight you were viewing. There he was, flying his in the bright blue sky. "Amazing..." Was the only word you could muster as you watched what took sight from above. Well, it was amazing up until the point where the poor boy crashed into the watchtower.

"My watchtower!" Sokka cried out, rushing to the pile of rubbish that as left behind for him. "That was amazing!" Katara gushed before rushing to Aang's side to help him up. "Definitely, I dare say that I am impressed." You smiled, clapping your hands together. Though the Avatar was much younger than you thought, it he was intriguing.

As Sokka was digging through the broken watchtower, Aang released a powerful gust of wind, causing snow to topple down upon him. You tried to muffle your giggle by covering your hand over your mouth.

"Great. You're an airbender, Katara's a waterbender, together you can just waste time all day long." Sokka taunted, patting the snow from off from his body. 'A waterbender, huh? Duly noted.' Your [e/c] eyes glanced over at the pair of teens conversing happily about their abilities, knowing that you couldn't put your input of your firebender powers.

'People fear others from the Fire Nation, they hate them...'

Sokka noticed your discomfort, and decided to approach you. "Hey, it's okay to be uncomfortable around benders. They're overrated, anyway." Sokka blushed slightly from your little laugh, watching as you shuffled closer next to him.

The invite to converse with another was refreshing, along with Sokka's vivid personality. Despite his misogynistic conceptions, you could tell that he was genuine with his passions., and you liked that especially about him.

"Hey, I've gotta go train my men, but you're allowed to observe, if a girl like yourself is into that type of thing."

You had to scoff at Sokka's comment. "Although I'd love to show you off at your little lesson, out of gratitude, I'll watch."

Sitting on the frozen water, you watched as Sokka assembled the team together with haste. While he was getting everything together, you quickly looked around for your bag, and an escape route, if things went in the wrong direction for you.

You were astonished to see a flying bison that was sleeping on the floor across from you. Its arrow symbols that trailed up and down its body made it easy to realize that it was Aang's, but then again, only the Airbenders wielded such useful and kind creatures.

'Maybe the flying bison wouldn't mind helping me...' You pondered, also mentally noting to grab your bag as well. Hopefully, no one bothered to look through it, or else you'd be given away.

"Now men, it's important that you show no fear when you face a Firebender. In the Water Tribe, we fight to the last man standing. For without courage, how can we call ourselves men?" You quickly realized that Sokka's training has begun, and decided to pay a bit more attention to him.

Not to mention that his "men", were a group of little toddlers who clearly didn't want to be here, especially one kid, who was desperately trying to go to the restroom. "I gotta pee!" He cried out, trying to hold his bladder best that the poor boy could.

"Just let the boy go, Sokka." You intervened, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. Though Sokka was ready to protest, you asked, "Actually, who else needs to go on a potty trip?" Every other kid raises their hands, and Sokka sighs at the sight.

You send them off to the bathroom, watching as Sokka slaps his forehead in embarrassment and disgust of his mini crew mates. "It's okay, Sokka. They're just little kids, after all."

After Sokka's failed lesson, Katara approached the two of you. "Have you seen Aang? Gran Gran said he disappeared over an hour ago." Katara's voice wavered, concerned for the younger boy as she looked around for him.

"No, I haven't seen him around, but I'm sure he's fine, Katara." As if on cue, Aang exits the bathroom with a childish grin. "Wow! Everything freezes in there!" The children laughed at his statement as Sokka becomes upset from the constant interruptions.

"Ugh! Katara, get him out of here. This lesson is for warriors only." Sokka grunted, making a shooing motion towards Aang. You barely managed to suppress a laugh. "I think your lesson is gonna be cut short, Sokka." You mentioned, directing your eyes over to the children playing around the bison.

"Haha, yeah!" Aang nodded, noticing your presence. "Hey, you're the girl Appa and I saved!" He grinned, making his way over to where you and Katara stood. "Appa?" You raised a brow at the unfamiliar name.

"Yeah! Appa's my flying bison, and I'm Aang!" He introduced himself, smiling proudly. A slight smile crossed your face as you waved politely.

"Nice to meet you, Aang. My name is-"

"Stop! Stop it right now!" Sokka yelled, finally done with putting up with all the chaos going on around him. "What's wrong with you? We don't have time for fun and games with a war going on." He seethed, pointing his finger directly into Aang's chest.

"What war? What are you talking about?" Aang stopped playing around at the mention of a war. He was so stunned at the fact that the world he used to know was changing all around him in an instance, and that scared him.

Though the feeling wasn't as severe as it were have been for you, knowing that your father had left for the war, and knowing that he would never return back home was always a sad thought. Knowing this, your mother was forced into careers that wasn't a pleasant lifestyle, but was something that she could provide for you.

"You're kidding, right?" Sokka's jaw dropped in surprise, unable to believe that Aang was unaware of the constant war that was occurring for over one-hundred years. "Something's not right here..." You murmured softly to yourself, mentally connecting the dots as to why Aang didn't know everything that had transpired.

You were about to investigate deeper with Aang, but he was gone with the wind, along with Katara following after him. "Now that there's no more distractions, care to observe in peace?" Sokka flirtatiously wiggled his eyebrows as you rolled your eyes in amusement. "Sure, after I find my bag. I have a change of clothes in there." You motioned to your beaten up satchel.

"Fine, go look through your purse, I'll start again with my men."

"Sure, ponytail, but you'll be upset when I won't see what's going on."

And you wished you were out there when a sudden strike was laid upon the once peaceful village, and the heat of the attack made it all to familiar as to the enemies that were fighting.

"The Fire Nation..." You growled in disgust, quickly changing into your other outfit that covered more of your [s/t] skin, and covered your hair. You reached through your bag, grabbing your silver-trimmed fan with thin blades that structured the weapon.

You rushed out of the tent to see a large, metal ship heading in the direction of the village, already see part of the once frozen grounds melted with ease. "Oh no, they've already started attacking." You muttered, running up to where Sokka was tightly wielding his weapon, his hand shaking out of either fear or anger.

"You told them about us being here!" Sokka yelled, jabbing his pointer finger in my direction. "Maybe you just infiltrated our home, so that they could take over!" "And why the hell would I do that when I'm on the run from them!?" You shot back, aiming your weapon into his chest.

"Well, because we don't even know a lot of information about you like your name?!" Sokka defended his case, crossing his arms in protest. "Well, I tried to tell it to Aang, but you interrupted our conversation, dumba-"

"What the heck is going on here?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[NOTE]: Thank you all for reading my Zuko x Reader Story! The purpose of this story was not only to relive one of my first childhood crushes, but to allow everyone who is new to this community to experience a proper fanfic that follows the plot of the story, and still with a hint of romance with our best boy, since I am aware that there is not many! Please know that this story will be a slow burn, and will have some moments of smut, so be aware!

Any who, please make sure to like, comment, and share this story to others who may enjoy it as well! Much love, and I hope to see you all in the next chapter, lovelies!

187 notes · View notes

ayatosmlktea · 5 years ago

Text

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Hiraeth (n) A Welsh word used to describe the feeling of homesickness for a home you cannot return to.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it

A/N: This is my first long fic...honestly I’m proud of it. I never thought I'd ever reach the 5k word threshold but here we are!

@thesilencebeforeastorm wrote a second part here, it’s very sweet!

“God it’s like you never listen to me!” Y/N’s complaint grated against Levi’s ears like cutlery scraping across glass plates, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the passenger side door.

“I always listen! It’s you who never wants to hear what I have to say! You know I’m right”! Levi countered through gritted teeth, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as they sped along the dimly light road.

“Are you being serious right now?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend feeling her heart begin to beat harder in her chest. She hated fighting with him, but his arrogant attitude was becoming intolerable.

“Yes! How many times have we had this fucking conversation already?” Levi groaned, his head was throbbing. All he wanted was one night of peace, one night where they could connect without being interrupted. But as usual something just had to go wrong. It seemed that lately all they knew how to do was fight. They weren’t even significant arguments, the smallest inconvenience could send them into a fit, more often than not Levi found himself going to bed long after Y/N had. Not even wanting to sleep in the same bed some nights. He knew from the beginning of her pregnancy that she was going to be emotional, but God there was only so much he could take.

“We wouldn’t need to be having this conversation if you would just fucking chill out for once!” Y/N snapped back the air inside the car suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot, her palms were sweaty and her nails were digging into her skin to prevent angry tears from falling.

“I need to chill out? Okay, fine. When we get home I’ll grab my shit and go chill out.” Levi’s jaw was beginning to cramp from how hard he was clenching it, his foot unconsciously pressing down harder on the gas pedal. The pent up frustrations over the past few weeks were finally coming out all at once.

“Fine! I don’t want to be around you anyway!” Y/N yelled, ignoring the tiny kick against her stomach.

“Great! Then maybe we shouldn’t be together! Since I’m so fucking uptight maybe you should be with someone who doesn’t give a shit!” Despite the harsh words they were throwing at each other, Y/N flinched at this. Things had been bad, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. She knew she was being unreasonable but sometimes Levi knew how to push her buttons to the point where she didn’t care how snappy she was.

Levi probably should have stopped venting, the words coming out of his mouth did not at all reflect his feelings. His temper was out of control and his pride was only fueled by her lack of comebacks.

“What the hell is wrong with you! I never said I wanted to be with anyone else! You’re being really irrational right now Levi” Both of them were so caught up in tearing each other apart that the bright white headlights rapidly approaching went unnoticed as they continued to rip into each other.

“Oh I’m being irrational? That’s rich coming from you, miss I need ice cream and pickles right now or else I’m going to cry for the next three hours.” Levi mocked, swerving lights inching closer and closer.

“Well if it bothers you so much then I won’t ask you for anything anymore! If we’re so fucking inconvenient to you then don’t bother! Take your shit and go!”

“Sometimes I wish I’d never met you!” The blaring horn pierced their ears, eyes widening in horrific realization that there was no time to react. The sound of glass shattering and tires screeching drowning out panicked screams.

“Hey babe!” Levi called out as he removed his shoes, the house was oddly quiet. Most of the lights were turned off, usually by the time he got home Y/N was cooking dinner with the tv on in the background. She never liked being home alone without having background noise to keep her company. Levi flicked the living room light on, nothing seemed to be out of place, an occurrence that was rare. Y/N would typically lounge out in front of the tv with a snack or two before he got home. Walking down the hallway to their bedroom he was surprised to find her in bed, not one to take naps regularly Levi began to worry that she was sick. Sitting down on the edge of the bed his fingers gently caress her cheeks, pulling back once they were met with something wet. Y/N was...crying? But why?

“Baby what’s wrong?” He asked in a soothing whisper, brushing strands of damp hair away from her face. Levi was on edge, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what was making her upset, their relationship had been going so well.

“I’m sorry” she cried, bringing her hands up to her face turning her body farther away from him.

“What do you mean you’re sorry? What happened?” Levi’s palms were becoming clammy with panic, he tried keeping his voice steady knowing that it was only going to make her freakout even more.

“It’s my fault!”

“What’s your fault? Tell me what’s going on?” Levi pulls against her shoulders rolling her onto her back. Bile creeps up his throat as he stares at her bloody face, shards of glass jutting out from her skin, tears stream down her cheeks mingling with the crimson liquid. Levi wants to say something but his tongue feels like lead.

“Wake up! You’re dying!” Y/N’s body is suddenly towering over him, drops of blood falling onto his face.

“You have to wake up!”

Gasping in short breaths of air Levi’s eyes hazily open, white lights too bright for him to stare into make his head throb. He was moving, but where.

“He’s conscious!” Someone shouts too loud for Levi’s liking. Masked faces hover above him, they’re moving too. Levi’s throat feels like sandpaper as he groans, Levi tried to turn his head to the side but found himself unable to.

“Don’t try to move sir” One of the masked figures said reassuringly, but Levi felt anything but reassured.

“Y/N...where is she” he rasped out, every breath felt like his lungs were being set on fire.

“She’s right behind you, you’re going to be okay” They replied, Levi tried his best to look for her but his body wouldn’t cooperate. Blinking slowly the lights grew faint, he barely registered a mask being placed over his mouth. Words exchanged between the nurses mingling together to become one incoherent string of nonsense as his vision becomes engulfed in a blackened silence.

“Are you excited?” Y/N asked with her head resting in Levi’s lap. Neither of them were really all that invested in the movie they were watching.

“Excited for what?” He inquired, raising an eyebrow at her. Her unamused expression had Levi fighting the urge to smirk.

“Are you serious? You’re going to be a dad soon!”

“Am I?” Levi asked again, a more prominent look of confusion on his face now. Y/N rolled her eyes while slapping his chest half heartedly.

“You’re so annoying sometimes” she sighed, turning her attention back to the movie.

“I am” Levi admitted after a few minutes.

“You are what? Annoying? I know”

“I’m excited...to have a family with you. Our little brat is lucky to have your for a mom” Y/N huffed in amusement.

“Stop calling our baby a brat”

“She is a little brat, always giving your mom a hard time huh?” Levi scolded affectionately.

“Don’t you think it’s time to wake up?” Y/N’s suddenly serious expression and tone was off putting, the blank far off look in her eyes made him feel like prey backed into a corner. It was nauseating.

“What?”

“It’s time to wake up, Levi. She needs you”

A soft beeping greets Levi as his brain tries to grab onto consciousness. For a moment he can’t remember where he is or why he’s lying in a bed that is definitely not his own with sheets that don’t feel right on his skin. Something was obviously wrong, but he couldn’t remember anything. Glancing around the room he could tell he was in a hospital bed, his side ached every time he tried to reposition himself. Where was Y/N? Why was he here?

Sometimes I wish I’d never met you!

Levi felt his stomach drop, an uncomfortable lump forming in his throat as he remembered the last thing he’d said to Y/N. The events of the previous night came back in flashes, the smell of burnt rubber, Y/N’s scream echoed around in his mind. Levi pulled himself up ignoring the sharp jabs of pain coming from every part of his body. He had to find her, he needed to know she was okay, that their baby was okay.

Pulling the IV out of his arm, he attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed. His left leg was stitched up from just his knee to the top of his thigh and God did it fucking hurt trying to move. Setting his foot down on the cold tiles he hissed, nearly collapsing onto the ground as he tried to distribute his weight to take enough pressure off of his injured leg. It was a bitch to try and walk around but he had made it to the door of his room, albeit sweating heavily and panting. His body was too hot, everything was too bright and too loud.

“Sir what are you doing? You shouldn’t get out of bed” A gentle looking nurse says calmly while trying to direct him back into his room.

“Where is she? Is she okay?” Levi demands and he can see a brief look of pity flash across her face but it’s gone in seconds.

“You can see her when you’re properly healed from your surgery! You’re in no condition to be walking!” She says in a more authoritative voice, yet still fairly calm. Levi attempts to shove past her but stumbles when his ankle gives out, hissing in pain and annoyance. With quick reflexes she manages to catch him easily, calling for another nurse to help her transport him back to bed. Levi was relentless in struggling against them, soon two nurses became three and Levi realized with disdain that he was getting nowhere.

“Please...I need to know she’s okay” the throbbing in his side was getting worse and his entire leg felt like it was on fire.

“His stitches ripped,” one of the nurses stated while they maneuvered him back to the bed. His eyes pleading with the first nurse he’d ran into.

“We aren’t allowed to disclose information on her condition to anyone who isn’t family but I can tell you that Miss L/N is resting and her condition is stable” Levi felt momentary relief but he wouldn’t get his hopes up until he could see her with his own eyes.

Grunting when they placed him back in bed the pain that had briefly subsided in his panicked episode was coming back all at once. He needed to apologize for saying something so horrible to her. He obviously didn’t mean it, he had been so lost in his own pettiness that he had said something for the sole purpose of hurting her feelings. It was stupid, childish. The moment he saw her, he was going to beg for her forgiveness. From that day on he would do whatever it took to make it up to her for putting them through this mess.

Levi’s stomach churned as he thought of their baby...only seven months along, he hoped they would survive. He’d never be able to live with himself if something happened.

His thoughts kept him distracted, replaying their fight in his head over and over wishing that he had paid more attention to the road, drove slower, used his fucking head and calmed down.

“Mr.Ackerman?” Levi’s eyes shot open, his bubble instantly popped by the sudden intrusion beside him. He didn’t know how many hours had passed since the nurses had fixed his stitches or when he had fallen asleep.

“I’m Dr. Jaeger, I’m here to answer any questions you might have regarding your surgery.” Levi could give a rats ass about himself.

“Y/N. I want to see her.” That familiar look of pity flashed across the doctors face and Levi was growing sick of it. There was obviously something they weren’t telling him. Sighing softly Dr.Jaeger nodded.

“I’ll take you to see her but there are a few things you need to know first.” Levi didn’t like where this was going, a foreshadowing sense of dread settling itself in the pit of his stomach.

“We’ve checked her medical records, it seems that she has no immediate family. You’re her emergency contact.” Levi nodded, it was something they had discussed after a year of being together. Y/N didn’t have any immediate relatives and the only remaining family she did have lived across the globe. It wasn’t a hard decision to make at the time, he hadn’t been thinking of worst case scenarios when he agreed to become her emergency contact.

“Meaning that you’re going to be making this decision for her.” Dr. Jaeger continued cautiously, waiting for an outburst.

“What decision?” A nurse entered the room with a wheelchair, Levi’s lips were set in a thin line. He wanted to see her more than anything but now he wasn’t sure what he was going to be met with.

“I’ll explain when we get there” Levi didn’t like that answer but complied, figuring it was better to go along with them rather than demanding answers. He begrudgingly allowed Dr. Jaeger and the nurse to help him into the wheelchair. He hated being dependent on others but after ripping his stitches open he didn’t want to go through the trouble again. It would only delay him seeing Y/N.

The trip to her room felt impossibly long, Levi’s hands were balled into fists in his lap. When they finally stopped outside her room, Dr. Jaeger gingerly placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder. Unreadable grey eyes locked onto green ones. It almost felt like he was being prepared for what was awaiting him on the other side of the door.

Levi felt nothing but guilt as his eyes drank in Y/N’s unconscious form, there were bruises and cuts littering her face and arms. A tube was inserted down her throat meaning she was unable to breathe on her own.

“She can hear you but we aren’t sure when she’ll wake up.” The silence was heavy, Levi’s mind was reeling with possibilities he didn’t want to consider.

“You don’t know when she’ll wake up or if she’ll wake up?” An inevitable sense of hopelessness gripped him by the throat, slowly squeezing the air out of his lungs.

“There were a few...complications with her surgery. Due to the force of the impact her brain suffered swelling and hemorrhaging, internal bleeding in the brain. We’ve done all we can to try and reduce the swelling, the rest is up to her.”

Levi hated the way he sounded so...bland about it. Like this kind of thing happened everyday, and yeah, it probably did but Levi couldn’t help but feel angry as his entire world was being ripped from his hands so cruelly. Levi had learned early on that this was the way the world worked. It moved on, life didn’t stop while he struggled to pick up the pieces that had shattered.

“What about the baby?” He asked tightly, keeping his eyes focused on the blank face of his lover. His mind was clouded over with too many emotions to process at once. Everything just felt like white hot rage, burning its way through his body with no regard for what it destroyed.

“The baby is doing well, it was a miracle they survived. We’re still monitoring them closely, if anything happens we’ll have no choice but to perform an emergency c-section.” Levi’s shoulders slumped forward with relief, his baby girl was okay. He picked up Y/N’s hand locking their fingers together before pressing a small kiss to her knuckles. However, the relief he felt was short lived.

“What decision am I supposed to be making for her?” He asked, turning his head too sharply to glare at the doctor.

“In the event that miss L/N’s coma progresses to a vegetative state, it is your decision on whether to keep her on life support or let her go” Levi’s jaw clenched, she was going to wake up! She had to.

“What’s going to happen to the baby?” Forcing himself to breathe Levi was seconds away from losing his control, his eyes were burning, the lump in his throat pressing uncomfortably against his Adam’s apple. He wouldn’t cry, he needed to be strong for her.

“As long as her brain is able to carry out regular functioning the baby is in no danger. Providing there are no further complications the baby can safely be delivered via c-section.” Taking in a shuddering breath all Levi could do was nod his understanding. He didn’t want this, they were supposed to go through this together but now he was alone.

“I’ll give you some time alone with her, try talking to her. It might help.” Levi watched the peaks rise and fall on the EKG monitor, she was so close to him and yet he had never felt farther from her than in that moment. Levi placed a hand on her stomach, something he had done many times before while Y/N slept except now it felt weird. Like he shouldn’t be touching her, didn’t deserve to be touching her. Black locks covered his face as he hung his head unable to fight back the bitter tears that had been building up since he’d regained consciousness.

“What do you think we should name her?” Y/N asked her fingers absentmindedly carding through his hair while he rested his head in her lap. The more her belly grew the more often Levi found himself wanting to spend as much time talking to their baby as possible. After Y/N had told him that she could hear them, he wanted her to get used to the sound of his voice.

“I’m not sure, what’s a fitting name for my little princess?” Y/N couldn’t fight the grin that spread over her face, watching her boyfriend address their baby like they were having a conversation was one of her favourite things.

“Hm, how about London?”

“No, I’m not naming my daughter after a city” Y/N scrolled through the list of baby names she’d pulled up on her phone, their new nightly routine consisted of trying to find a name for the baby. Despite it being only five months along they were both impatient to meet their baby, Levi referred to her solely as his little princess while Y/N had taken up calling her pumpkin. They butted heads with every name, either Levi said it sounded too tacky or Y/N complained that it wasn’t unique enough.

“How about Alabama?” Levi’s head craned up to meet her eyes, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Please tell me you’re joking”

“This is impossible” she sighed defeatedly.

“Let me see” Levi reached out to grab her phone, eyes scrolling down the list until one name caught his attention.

“How about this one?” Y/N raises an eyebrow in interest, her eyes lock with Levi’s.

“Not bad shorty, not bad”

♡ ♡ ♡

The following weeks were torturous, Levi was still unable to walk on his own. After calming down Dr. Jaeger has explained that his femur had been fractured and would take a while to heal. His torso still ached but it was nothing in comparison to the pain he felt during physical therapy. During the times he wasn’t learning how to walk, something he hated with his entire being, he was in Y/N’s room. The nurses didn’t have the heart to move him, eventually they had given up trying to coax Levi back into his own room allowing them to be together. It made Levi easier to deal with and he was less grumpy when it came time to bring him to therapy. Y/N’s condition hadn’t gotten worse but it showed no signs of getting better and while Levi was grateful for it he was struggling to hold on the longer she was unconscious.

“I miss you...I hope you can hear me. I know I don’t deserve you, not after what happened. Princess is doing okay but she’s gonna need you babe, I need you! I can’t do this by myself. Please, wake up” Levi didn’t have much time to talk to her during the day, but at night he poured his heart out in ways he never had and every night it made him feel guilty.

Things he should have told her while she was in his arms, moments he took for granted that he might not ever get to experience again. With crushing realization Levi couldn’t even remember the last time he had kissed her, worse he couldn’t remember the last time he had told her he loved her. Pressing his face into the mattress he cried silently, the grip on her hand tightening as he bit back sobs.

He knew it was stupid, giving himself false hope that maybe one day she’d wake up. It had already been over a month and soon enough they would be delivering their baby. Levi was not confident in his ability to be a parent, let alone a single parent. He didn’t even want to think about it, he needed Y/N. But even if she woke up, what would happen, would she be the same person he remembered?

Levi hated being late, if it wasn’t for the fifteen minutes he’d spent trying to shovel his car out of the snow he wouldn’t be sweating his ass off just before going on a date. Not that he really wanted to be going on one in the first place but Hange and Erwin had both decided to meddle into his pathetic love life and set him up with someone they knew. Levi could care less about dating, he didn’t have time to emotionally support someone else, not while he was so invested in trying to earn his masters.

However, he was fed up with Hange giving out his number to random girls and she promised that if he went on this date she’d stop meddling. Levi would suffer through two hours of his life if it meant he didn’t have to receive anymore texts from clingy girls with shitty pick up lines. Besides his closed off personality was usually enough for them to get uncomfortable, calling off the date early. Levi waited inside his car for a few minutes, not wanting to rush in drenched with sweat.

Actually, maybe that was a good idea. The sooner he scared her off the better. Levi walked into the restaurant, the waiter glanced at him weirdly but said nothing as Levi was led to his table. The sight of his date had him doing a double take, none of the girls Hange set him up with had ever looked as beautiful as her.

“Oh, good you’re here! I was about to order without you. Levi right?” Her eyes never left the menu in front of her and Levi was a little taken back by her brash attitude. Not only did she completely disregard his presence but she was going to start eating without him. When her eyes finally met his Levi felt the wind being knocked out of him, her eyes were mesmerizing.

“Huh...well I guess you’re not bad. Although, Hange really talked you up. I will admit you’re, by far, the most decent looking guy she’s set me up with” She laughed and Levi willed himself to ignore the way he craved to hear more of it. He hated to admit it but he was used to being completely fawned over by his dates, this was...new.

As the night went on Levi found himself enjoying her presence. Y/N was entertaining, she was sarcastic and witty and not afraid of his sharp comebacks. He had completely lost track of time, he needed to see more of her. He wasn’t going to be satisfied with one date.

“You know, you’re pretty good company” Y/N smirked, and for the first time in his life Levi felt butterflies in his stomach. Levi usually drove his dates home and if he felt like it had even given a few of them a goodnight kiss. But nothing had ever made him feel the way Y/N did, her lips fit against his like they were made for him. Her hands molded perfectly with his; and as they pulled apart out of breath, his heart pounding against his ribcage, Levi knew he was in trouble.

“Levi?” Levi’s daydreaming was interrupted by Hange’s cautious voice. Hange and Erwin were staring at him like he was fragile, like if they said the wrong thing he’d break. He hated the way their gazes drifted towards his leg, the ugly stitches immediately caught everyone’s attention. It was a constant reminder of his stupidity.

Hange’s eyes were wet with tears as she enveloped Levi in a firm hug. It hurt but at the same time he almost craved it, they were his closest friends. The only ones who could understand the pain he felt. Levi had been waiting outside of the delivery room for what felt like hours. They had asked him to wait in his room but Levi wanted to be there the second their baby was delivered. He couldn’t tell if things were going well, but there was a feeling he couldn’t shake. His gut was telling him that the dread he’d been feeling since they had rushed her into an emergency c-section wasn’t paranoia.

“Have you heard anything?” Erwin asked, taking a seat next to Levi.

“Not yet” Erwin was used to Levi’s short worded responses, but this was something different. Levi’s body was tense, glancing down Erwin took in how white his knuckles were. His eyes were trained on the doors in front of them, he looked so different from the person they’d seen months ago. Hange grabbed one of his clenched fists in her hands and Levi made no attempts to shove her off of him. The sound of the door being pushed open almost made him vomit with nerves, if he could he would’ve been on his feet already.

“Mr. Ackerman, we’re ready for you.” They weren’t giving anything away but Levi felt like he already knew what was coming.

“We’ll be here” Hange said, giving his hands a reassuring squeeze.

The room was divided by a curtain, Levi felt his body go numb as he listened to Dr. Jaeger give him the news he’d been dreading.

“We’re very sorry, we did everything we could but there was too much bleeding.” He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. He struggled to take in shuddering breaths, nails digging crescents into the cold palm of his hands. Angry tears pricked at his tired eyes. It wasn’t fair! She was too young, their lives were only beginning. Levi thought of every dream they had ever talked about, finishing their degrees, travelling the world together, getting married.

“Would you like to hold her?” The question distracts him, for a second Levi felt himself hesitate. Did he really want this? He was by no means parental material and the thought of having to raise their daughter without Y/N was terrifying. Levi nodded, unsure of what to expect. He hadn’t expected to cry at the sight of their baby but she was without a doubt the most beautiful child he had ever seen. During the last two months Y/N’s body had fought to keep their baby alive, he didn’t care that people were watching him. He would never be able to go back and change the past, but he would take the precious gift she had given him to create a better future.

“Do you have a name picked out?” Levi’s eyes were focused on the miracle in front of him. Their baby, the last piece of Y/N he would have to remember for the rest of his life. They had agreed on a name months ago but Levi felt like it wasn’t enough to express the meaning that the tiny human in his arms had abruptly brought into his life.

“Yeah, I do”

♡ ♡ ♡

The crisp air nipped at his cheeks, tinting them with a youthful rosy pink. It was a beautiful day, the kind of fall weather Y/N loved. The sun was warm despite the chilly autumn wind, she loved sweater weather. It was only fitting that she be laid to rest on a day as beautiful as she was. Levi’s emotions were anything but cheerful, his heart was heavy. There were so many things he wanted to tell her. He could only hope that she had heard him the countless nights he had spent lying next to her apologizing for what he’d done.

Levi’s gaze lingered on the cloudless sky, hoping that wherever Y/N was, she knew how much he loved her, and would always love her. The swaddled bundle in his arms begins to stir, drawing his attention back to Lily.

‘She looks just like you’ he thought, a bittersweet smile on his lips. Her eyes opened slowly, e/c orbs trying to focus on his face. Levi’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes burned with tears once more. No matter how many times he looked at her, he was breathless. Lily looked so much like Y/N it almost physically hurt sometimes. Levi wished he could turn back time, do it all over again. If he hadn’t been so reckless then he wouldn’t have to be standing over his girlfriend’s grave holding their motherless baby. The guilt never went away, it still felt like just yesterday that Y/N had been in his arms.

Some nights his chest ached so bad he felt like he was going to die, sleep completely evading him. Other mornings he woke up searching out her body in his drowsy state. Only to remember that she was gone. The bed was too big, it was cold and empty without her. Sometimes Levi swore he could still hear the sound of her voice calling him to wake up. But every time he opened his eyes she was never there. The only reason Levi still got out of bed in the morning was because of Lily.

“It’s just you and me princess” he said softly, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. Levi’s life would have ended the moment Y/N’s had if it wasn’t for Lily. A flower that had bloomed in the darkest time of his life. His second chance for a life after Y/N.

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