#tried to imagine a world without maria. failed

[astystole]

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE WONDERFUL, MY LOVELY, BABY GABSY 💗 love you so soooo very much 🥹 look look its us, it's us!!

ITS ME AND MY FUCKED UP ARM!!!!!

[a-spes]

I litteraly can't stop thinking about this post from @whumped-by-glitter ~ Like, can we (please) take a minute to think about how perfect it's for Wandanat or BlackHill x young!R where they take her out of the Red Room?? | Warnings & Tags : messy blurb? (imagine? idk, just wanting to share my thoughts, and couldn't stop writing), mainly BlackHill, mentions of the Red Room/past abuses, no idea if that makes sense. Imagine, teen or young adult R that fails a mission, and is captured by SHIELD/The Avengers. R isn't really cooperative, even if she is not under mind control anymore, she firmly believes that. However, Nat just can't accept the idea of leaving her rotting in a cell for the rest of her life for something that isn't really her fault. Despite what R can say, Natasha wants to believe that it's not true, and that she will be able to show her that life is way more than the Red Room.

But it's not that easy. Nat more than anyone else knows that you don't come back from the Red Room that easily, and she can only assumes that it would be worst for someone that went under mind control. And she was right. At first, she tried to introduce you to how life outside is, how sweet it could be, but she quickly noticed that it didn't work. Whenever she asks you a question about what you would like, she gets no answer. If she doesn't tell you to eat or to go somewhere, you don't do it. The amount of time you didn't followed her or talked because she didn't especially told you to do so is insane, especially in the beginning. So she decides to do what she thinks it's best, even if she hates it: giving you order, being stern with you, offering you a place you know, where you feel safe (no matter how sick it's) because you can predict it, a space where you'll be fine as long as you do as your ask. The world is a big and scary place in which to evolve in, especially when you don't have the keys to understand it - what you do something you're not supposed to, and you're punished for that? R will eventually come here, but it'll definitely takes a lot of time.

But obvsiouly Nat' is hating herself for that. She knows she has to do it, for you, but it doesn't make it easier. She does it because she believes it will help you to feel better, and because if you're under her orders, they have less reasons to be worried that you would attend something under Dreykov's name (or try to go back to him). She feels guilty, and old thoughts about her not being better than the man that made them are coming back. But Maria/Wands are here to help their wife <3

AND SO, here is how I see things if it's WandaNat we're talking about - I picture Wands as the soft mom she is shown as in Wandavision, and she would definitely not appreciate Nat's methods. She trusts her wife, she knows that she has her reasons, and it must be the best way to help you, but she still doesn't like it. She hates the way you always look down, the way you would do everything her wife is asking without thinking twice about it, and most of it, she hates when you're calling Nat' "ma'am" or something else of that kind. She hates even more than her wife isn't saying anything. She didn't know you for long, but she already loves you as her own, and it pains her when you reject her. Sometimes, she and Nat would argue about the whole situation (and those arguments would definitely go too far).

BUT imagine if it's BlackHill?? Even better in my opinion, and definitely can't stop thinking about it ~ Because, unlike Wanda, Maria is directly concerned. She read your file, she saw footages of you killing dozens of people, she tracked you, lost men in the process, and she saw how you didn't seem to regret anything when she questioned you. So Maria has every reasons to be worried, especially for her wife's security (physically and mentally). What if it's just a part of a biggest plan to attempt to kill the redhead? Or worst, to take her back there? I can easily Maria being upset, and taking it out on the other recruit she is training (poor them), not daring to do much more than glaring at you, knowing her wife wouldn't appreciate. And even if she doesn't appreciate R, she trusts and love her wife, so she lets her do her thing. But she is always somewhere looking at you with a stern face, waiting for the moment you would make a mistake to step-in. But you never really make a mistake, always following Nat's orders at the perfection, which is kinda frustrating because then she has no reason to get rid of you. Except if one day R's misunderstood one of Nat's orders, which lead to a heavy situation <3 It's honestly the only situation I imagine leading to an argument between Maria & Nat. Like, maybe you hurt someone or stole something or idk, thinking you did good, and they would be proud, but when you come in the room they're just looking at you with that shocked face. But you did what you had to, no? That's exactly what you were asked to do, so why are they angry? AND IMAGINE THE ANGST FROM NOW. R's confusion, Nat' desesperatly trying to find a solution, trying to convince Maria that it was just a mistake (that was her fault because she is the one that wasn't careful with her words) but she doesn't change her mind. Pulling the "what if it happens again?" and "I am your superior, you don't get to discuss my order" cards, knowing that it would pain Nat', but she has to do it in order to keep her safe. Bonus point if Nat turns to Fury, trying to convince him as she knows her wife won't change her mind, but he doesn't say much, just agreeing with her agent, mumbling a simple "sorry" Nat doesn't want to hear. Obviously, it would eventually

AND (because there is more), I also can't stop thinking about that comment from @light-me-on-pyre ;

Like, I can easily imagine R hating Nat'. It would make so much sense because she grew up in a place where Nat' was pictured as the enemy, the one that betrayed "the ones that gave everything to her". But it wouldn't be the exact reason why R is hating Nat'. I mean, right, she hates her because she left, but mainly because of the consequences it had for the ones that came after - the worsened conditions, the mind control, etc - and how she succeed what's supposed to be impossible: leaving the Red Room. Not only physically, but mentally. Imagine R seeing Nat' on the news when she is on a mission or seeing her interacting with Maria/the Avengers, witnessing Nat' being happy. It's something she was told she doesn't deserve/will never have from a young age, so why would Nat' have the right to be happy when so many didn't? It was so much easier to hate on Nat' than on Dreykov all these years because she wasn't here, and no one would blame her to do so. But now? It's easier to continue hating Nat', for R to convince herself that the redhead is bad despite the appearances because it's easier than admitting that her whole life is a lie (kinda). And the fact that Nat' has to take the "bad guy" role in order to help R only makes things easier because, in the end, she is not different from the others, right? And so, as Nat' can't provide R the comfort she needs, it's all on Maria (at least for the beginning) who doesn't have a choice. But we all know that despite her cold demeanour, she is all soft, she is just scared for the ones she loves <3 Which includes Nat', because she saw how her wife is affected by your arrival. First, she has nightmares again because, with you, inevitably came back old memories and traumas. Then, Maria can see how her wife is so invested in your case that she barely sleep/eat/ (which is one of the reasons why she doesn't really appreciate R ...). But also, what would happen if they can't save you?

Bonus point if things get better but something happen, and everything get worse again, throwing away all these months of progress. But what if they don't have the patience to start all over again?

It's definitely (one of) my favorite trope because the amount of angst/comfort it holds is insane, and I am going crazy about it (you can tell by the lenght of that post that was supposed to be a few lines ...). Do I want to write something like that when I already have too many WIPs? Yes. Will I do it? I don't know, but I'll definitely be thinking about it 24/24 & 7/7.

[teecupangel]

this is pretty hard to put into words but just hear me out. Imagine Desmond as a baker. Like a literally pastry/bread maker.

So the idea is that he'd have time traveled, by the apple or isu bullshit it's up to you, and basically gets adopted into this nice old family who own a bakery. They teach him everything and he settles down a bit. But it turns out he's travelled to before the executions of Ezio's family, where he has a chance to save them, but was warned against it by Minerva (or whoever) because it would mean the end of the world. So he has this moral dilemma the entire time. But also, he wants nothing to do with the Brotherhood. He's done with the Assassin's and Templars for a lifetime.

Then Leonardo comes along, because there's a nice family bakery down the road and he was craving something sweet, and sees Desmond (who is completely freaking out) and Leonardo assumes something... That he's Giovanni's bastard son. Which leads to a large moment of misunderstandings in which Leonardo is trying to tell the family that Desmond exists without sounding like he's accusing Giovanni of cheating but also trying to say something quick. Because if he saw the connection, so would other people.

But Maria, ignoring all the failed attempts of poor Leonardo, goes and orders a large amount of baked pastries to be delivered to the villa in celebration of someone's birthday. Lo and behold, Desmond appears to deliver the goods (and then to disappear into oblivion, because he just couldn't help himself to not see the family again)

Everyone stops when they see Desmond and Leonardo almost passes out from the pure amout of stress he had taken on. Then there's this whole scandal and poor little Desmond is smack dab in the middle of it.

Desmond could find baking as relaxing in the sense that baking requires precision and any deviation in the recipe (that is not like sugar content) could easily destroy it which, for someone like Desmond, might mean that the baker has complete control of what’s going to happen.

At least, if Desmond can’t have full control over his life, he could have full control over the pastries he makes.

Also, if we set it up so that Desmond wouldn’t know much about baking before he got adopted BUT he does know what pastries and cakes should look like and the ‘usual stuff’ that should be in them, hell, he could accidentally invent pastries that shouldn’t exist during that time period.

He would be known as someone not afraid to experiment and try new ingredients and people assume he’s a mad genius but Desmond is just trying to find possible alternatives he could use for the pastries he knows about but doesn’t exactly know how to make.

So Leonardo would be interested in the products themselves but also because of the rumor of this pastry/bread madman and both of them just stared at one another with wide eyes because Leonardo is thinking “Oh no, Giovanni cheated on Maria!” and Desmond is thinking “Oh fuck, what the hell is Leonardo doing here? Okay, stay cool, stay cool, stay freaking cool, Desmond”

And Leonardo becomes a regular because goddamn those pastries are to die for and Leonardo enjoys being Desmond’s taster (or, as Desmond like to call him, his guinea pig) all the while trying to drop hints that he knows who Desmond’s real father is.

Desmond misunderstands this hints as Leonardo knowing that he’s connected to the Auditores and he thinks if anyone could think “Ah! Of course! Time traveling bullshit!” as a reason for Desmond’s existence, it would be freaking Leonardo Da Vinci.

And, just to make everything more complicated, Desmond tries his damnest not to get near the Auditores but it wasn’t like they could reject Maria Auditore’s orders because that was a lot of money and also it would be social suicide to be known as the bakers who said no to the wife of Lorenzo’s unofficial second-in-command.

Instead of Desmond being the one to deliver it though, Ezio gets roped into getting the orders and Desmond freaks out because “oh shit, Ezio! Ohshitohshitohshitohshit!” so Desmond does want any normal person freaking out and out of option would do at that situation, pretend everything is fine and smile and be polite on the outside while just going “AAaaaaaaahhh *deep breath* aaaAAAAAAAAAHHHH” on the inside and Ezio is just staring at him and being uncharacteristically absentminded which Desmond assumed meant he must have just seen Cristina or something.

Instead, Ezio goes to Leonardo after delivering the pastries and go “I THINK MY FATHER CHEATED ON MY MOTHER AND HAS A SECRET CHILD!”

And Leonardo just goes “YYYYYEEESSSS!!!!”

Cue Leonardo and Ezio trying to drop hints to Maria about Desmond’s ‘real’ parentage (which Maria mistakes as Leonardo and Ezio really liking the pastries) and dropping hints to Desmond about his ‘connection’ to the Auditores (which Desmond mistakes as both Leonardo and Ezio coming close to finding out he’s a freaking descendant of the Auditores that time traveled) while Leonardo and Ezio suffer through both of their ‘obliviousness’.

(By the way, all this pastry talk made me remember Tasting History with Max Miller on youtube and, if you’re curious what food was like in the past, check his videos out. He even has a playlist for Medieval and Renaissance food)

[themculibrary]

Tony Stark-Centric Masterlist 2

part one

5 Candid Photos of Tony Stark and the 1 Candid Photo of Iron Man (ao3) - dls T, 8k

Summary: Iron Man, optional. Tony Stark, preferred.

1356 (ao3) - sunspot (unavoidedcrisis) T, 23k

Summary: Tony's going to need more than a box of scraps and a secluded cave to fix a way out of this one...

A.I.s and Lullabies (ao3) - Echo N/R, 21k

Summary: Tony is suddenly a quiet, wary five year old boy. The rest of the team are less than completely sure about what to do about that.

All I Know Is You're Someone I've Always Known (ao3) - ceealaina T, 6k

Summary: Tony wakes up to Nat waiting for him in the soul stone.

Almost No One Makes It Out (ao3) - atrata T, 28k

Summary: What would have happened if Tony hadn't been born filthy rich? A military AU.

a rainbow tide of rainbow pride (ao3) - arabellagaleotti T, 2k

Summary: Bandanna laughs as they press him against the ground, and Tony opens his mouth and laughs, he's always liked this moment, still riding the adrenaline from whatever stupid thing he’s done but too soon for the repercussions to set in.

OR,

It's 1986, and Tony Stark is at a gay rights protest.

Authenticity (ao3) - On_Every_Spectrum clint/tony, clint/phil T, 5k

Summary: "Howard wasn't ever going to win father of the year in anyone's book. Including his own child's. He was more interested in the image of having a son than, you know, his actual son. So, Tony figured he better thank his lucky stars that it was a son that Howard had so desperately wanted. A son he'd longed for."

But I Haven't Thought of You Lately at All (ao3) - dls G, 4k

Summary: Tony Stark resigned from the Avengers post-Ultron. The superhero team believed his absence would not cause any lasting impact. After all, Tony was just a consultant, right?

Or: 5 Times Tony Stark was a Consultant and the 1 Time He was a Teammate

Challenging Authority (ao3) - rocknrollout steve/tony T, 9k

Summary: On May 29th, Maria Stark went into labor. The baby was perfectly healthy and after 5.3 hours, the doctor was able to hold up a bright red, wriggling baby and announce that Howard and Maria Stark now had a perfect baby girl.

That was when problems started to arise.

Checkmate (ao3) - bobthebeekeeper M, 110k

Summary: Follow on from Captain America Civil War. Takes place directly after the confrontation in Siberia.

Tony is taken to the Raft to explain himself and his actions to Ross. Things go downhill.... fast.

dear mr. fantasy (ao3) - iron_spider T, 46k

Summary: Tony worries his brain is misfiring, transporting him across time and space in one final insane journey. He swallows hard, and he hears those garbled voices again. He can’t make out words, or tone, or who the hell is talking, but somebody definitely is, and it sounds strangely like they’re underwater. Or he is.

He grits his teeth and turns around, and before he can even begin to trudge over towards Peter’s room, he’s stopped in his tracks.

By a door. In the middle. Of the living room. Straight up and down like a monolith, just beside the glass coffee table.

Tony chews on his lower lip and stares at it. “Well that’s new,” he says, still rooted to the spot.

elioenai (ao3) - Anonymous G, 6k

Summary: Tony falls through the space between worlds. As a result, he can see daemons. It kind of freaks him out. (It's stranger and more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.)

Enough Rope (ao3) - Amber_and_Ash M, 89k

Summary: Tony can't get himself back from Siberia, and it takes the night for him to be rescued. While waiting to see if he'll die of hypothermia, he realises something for the first time. It wasn't that he failed because he hadn't tried hard enough. He had failed because he had tried too hard. His so-called team-mates had formed the habit of blaming Tony for everything because he had let them. He had shouldered the blame, let them attack him without consequence, and cleaned up after their mess, all so they could continue to feel self-righteous in peace. But it wasn't just him they were attacking, and saving the world didn't give them a free pass to be the very bullies that Steve claimed to fight against.

Tony woke up in hospital, still sustained by the relief of his realisation. Things sucked, but they would get better. He was Tony Stark, and no challenge was too much for him. It was odd how much easier it was to plot when he actually did intend ways to manipulate the ex-Avengers into falling in line. And since that was what they seemed convinced he was doing all along, they didn't deserve a warning that it would now be true.

Extraction (ao3) - ancalime8301 T, 5k

Summary: Tony is (eventually) rescued from Siberia and deals with what happened by not dealing with what happened.

Fateful Choices (ao3) - the_writer1988 pepper/tony, happy/pepper, one-sided gamora/tony M, 177k

Summary: Tony made the choice to make the sacrifice play and was lost. Steve chose to close the portal.

Both lived to regret it.

Gone (ao3) - nonna T, 57k

Summary: In the final fight scene of Captain America Civil War, Tony's helmet breaks off the armour after the relentless clashing it receives.

What if the harsh hits to his head create serious complications for Tony, and he loses his sight?

Somebody's hero (ao3) - EternalSheWolf G, 4k

Summary: Tony Stark is six when he learns that nobody will come for him. If he wants to be rescued, he’ll have to take care of it himself.

The Many Quirks of Tony Stark (and the reasons behind them) (ao3) - audhds T, 23k

Summary: Everybody who is anybody knows that Anthony Edward Stark is a strange one. Even people who have never met him know that the bloke was quirky. Most think he is rude, arrogant and socially inept.

Of course, Tony Stark doesn't give a fuck about what people think of him.

Although it would be nice if his fellow Avengers understood that he wasn't simply doing things to be an asshole. It would be great, just once, if they would look past the mental walls that he put up. If they'd see beyond the smiling mask that he put on, day in, day out.

Because the truth of the matter is that Tony Stark is falling apart, struggling to carry on living in a world that is intent on breaking him down. He is scared and has been through enough to make anybody crumble, so yes he might be a bit odd, but at least he is surviving, ok?

Tony's Choice (ao3) - hafital pepper/tony G, 25k

Summary: In order for the Avengers to use the Stones to reverse the Snap, they each must make a terrible choice.

“We are the gauntlet,” said Tony, looking at Clint, then at Thor and Natasha and Bruce, and finally, Steve. “What is it you keep harping on about? We do this together. We are the gauntlet. There are six stones, and six of us. We each take a Stone.”

Understanding something doesn't mean you can change it (except where you can) (ao3) - sirona howard/maria, steve/howard, peggy/steve, steve/tony G, 3k

Summary: How Howard Stark went from Captain America's Howard Stark to the one Tony grew up with. And a possible explanation for Tony's Mom not taking more of an interest in her son. And Tony coping with the parents he's been saddled with. With bonus appearances from Peggy Carter, Dummy and, eventually, Steve himself.

[katyspersonal]

I am trying to line my OTPs, which is a bit hard to do since I just love experimenting + Bloodborne timeline allows for several to have happened during the events even without any AUs since everyone gets broken up sdfhfdh

I think I did stop at Bradorence and Mariadeline, but now I dunno what to do with Gehrman, if anything.. The closest I have is Djura, whom I headcanon was the first Dreaming Hunter, also the first and the last Dreaming Hunter to be connected with the dream for more than just one night. Gehrman blames himself for not watching him attentively enough and letting the hunt break his heart and end up regretting what he did with Old Yharnam too... He is the second person Gehrman feels like he failed with this stuff, after Maria, but at least Djura gets to live and find new purpose..

But it is because of Djura Gehrman now goes easier on assisting hunters and only gives them one night. And Djura was his most reliable anchor about the news from outside world + it was helpful that he knew Laurence and some other guys. He really misses Djura now though; he used to be one of the most ruthless hunter ever (people change, huh), and he would invent weird weapons even in the Hunter's Dream. Gehrman also used to fix Djura's clothes all the time because he ruined them QUITE often xD Little did he know that the unique way in which Djura got his hat ruined became new trend later hahahah

Though, honestly, Matias (my name for Blood Minister from the intro) is a good candidate too! Wheelchair dudes were Old Hunters too, and I could imagine them not only having known each other in the past, but also having mysterious connection in which Matias is aware of the Hunter's Dream and still tries to help and keeps hopes that Gehrman will eventually be freed, as long as they still not let Yharnam completely perish with them immortal-for-the-night hunters.

________________

But yeah, for now I think this works. Bradorence, Mariadeline, Djurman (lol), Micoed... that's all. Honorable mention for Valtmura. 'Romebrietas or Yurom?' is still a question I will NEVER answer in a LIFETIME. ...although Julie has two hands....

[cloudsspoke]

Though the final match between Argentina versus France has been dubbed by the majority of people as the best World Cup Final, personally this is the best match throughout World Cup 2022, or more like, the most unforgettable one.

The altercation between players started after what Lea did to the Dutch’s bench. Things escalated quickly from that moment. It got worse because Lahoz gave them 10mins additional times and once it ended, the 2nd brawl happened almost instantly.

Dunno what the hell is wrong with that Bergwijn guy 💀🤬.

It’s a good thing Ota came right on time. It looks as if he noticed Bergwijn’s movement and Ota used his body as armor to protect his teammate from violent Bergwijn. We never know which player Bergwijn intended to hurt when he suddenly marched into the players’ mob like that (there’s Macca and Lea right there, Bergwijn proly wanted to hurt them).

This post is solely to capture the fight scenes, for the penalty shoot-out scenes read here.

The game ended after Lautaro successfully converted his penalty kick. The Dutch players got to see El General do this ‘Roman’ celebration right in front of their faces.

But the next fight happened exactly after that. Well, actually there are 2 fights happened at the same time.

Scene #1 was when Lahoz gave Dumpfries red card and Dybala was seen happily mocking Dumpfries. His mouth and his gesture showed that he told Dumpfries to go home. Dumpfries fumed and marched to probably kill Dybala, but Tagliafico shielded Dumpfries from doing that.

can someone tell me what Papu posted on his Instagram story that day 🤔?

Meanwhile, the other scene involved Noa Lang who pushed Paredes and Papu who pushed Lang back.

From this angle we can see how Tagliafico held Dumpfries off with all his might.

It’s a never-ending drama that we saw one after another. And again, in between Argies’ celebration, Messi came to Van Gaal and this whole thing happened:

I know we should respect the elder, with Van Gaal being the senior coach and all that, but at this moment, somos todos Rodrigo De Paul. I can imagine De Paul proly said: “Ay, señor this is what happens if you talk too much about us. See, now you make Leo angry. Jajaja~ Enjoy your exit, señor. Chao~”

And while Rodri loved every second of provoking Van Gaal, our Angelito came to pull Messi away from the altercation. He’s our MOM, okay? Fide is truly the MOTHER ANGEL 👼 of this chaotic group. First, he protected Enzo from Dumpfries, then protected Enzo from hearing DIbu’s cursing, and at last, when everyone tried to calm the shit out of Leo with no success, somehow as soon after Fide stepped in, just like that the altercation ended.

And of course, being such an Angel as he was, Fide took a moment to hug Frans Hoek 👼❤️♥️(The Dutch’s GK coach, who used to work with both Van Gaal and Fide in United)

Not only did Messi pay a ‘friendly’ visit to The Dutch’s bench, but our beloved Dibu too, this time we all could hear his direct message clearly.

Impressive.

My favorite moment?

It’s when Dibu joined his teammate’s celebration and half-joking cursed Enzo for his failed penalty attempt. Di Maria stood there watching that moment smiling, but he saved Enzo from Dibu’s wrath when Di Maria pulled Dibu into a hug, gave Enzo an exit to escape from Dibu.

***

Talk about La Scaloneta destined to be World Cup champion cuz it’s been written in the stars, there are 2 things I found that are interesting from this match against Nederland.

First, when Lahoz yellow-carded Gonza for protesting just 3 minutes after Gonza came to the pitch to replace Molina. That yellow card banned Gonza from playing in the next game, in case the Argies advanced to the Semifinal round. But that didn’t stop him from executing the penalty kick.

With his success, along with Leo’s, Lea’s, and Lautaro’s, La Scaloneta did advance to the next round, where they won easily against Croatia, and Gonza was benched without major problems. Meanwhile, during Argies’ last, final game against France when the victory had to be determined through a penalty shoot-out, we got him ready, unpunished, and he did his job well once again.

*

And then we have Dybala 💎. People have been asking and waiting for when he will play. His chance came to light with Argentina’s victory over Nederland. Fun fact, his first-ever World Cup debut was in 2018, the same game against Croatia when he came to sub Tevez, only this time the Argies won 3-0 and advanced to the final.

And as we all know, in the Final match Scaloni put him in to prepare La Joya to take part in the penalty shoot-out. He didn’t waste that chance. He helped Argies to get the World Cup trophy, despite only playing for no less than 20mins throughout the whole tournament.

The reason why I mentioned Dybala in this post is because of what he revealed later that he remembered what Dibu said to Enzo: "kick the ball to the center". I can say that Enzo’s failure during the match against Nederland somehow helped La Joya to convert his kick successfully.

***

If you think the drama between Argentina players and The Dutch ended on the field, nope. It continued even during the post-match interview session.

Dibu, they hear you: Lahoz announced retirement and Van Gaal too.

🇦🇷✨🏆

[merminns]

No regrets

Erwin Smith x Reader

❧ Request: Hii may i request...Erwin angst...when (S3 spoiler) Erwin march toward the 🐒 with the other soldier, instead of him tht went, it was the reader. Reader just cant make the humanity lost their commander so when he is distracting (idk something happened) reader just take their horse n march with the soldiers, (then do ur magic DETAILS like ur erwin stories✨✨) n levi also decide not to save us like in the s3....shshsh i know this lame :33

❧ Content/Warnings: platonic levi x reader, season 3 spoilers, angst, mentions of injuries and blood, reader dies in the end 

❧ Word count: 3k

❧ Notes: this is a repost from my old blog

Going back to shiganshina after all of these years was a huge deal. Especially after the glorious send-off you were given by the citizens of Wall Rose. You came back to reclaim Wall Maria after six long years, you’re taking back your land and defeating the titans that filled your hearts with terror, cause that’s what heroes do.

But in reality, it didn’t really feel that way to you. Instead of being the hero who’s facing their fear, you feel like a terrified child living in a nightmare.

You expected a fight with the titans, of course, you did. Taking back your land won’t come without a fight, without losses. And it’s not your first time facing titans.

You’ve been fighting them for years now, getting rid of them one after the other alongside your friends. Your records are filled with a decent number of kills and you are proud of it.

But this… this is different, you’ve never been in this situation before. You fought titans and you watched them kill your comrades in the worst ways imaginable, but never in your various years within the survey corps did you ever imagine that these monsters would show this tactical intelligence.

It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Titans are a nightmare on their own, with intelligence like that you’re surely done for.

When you came to shiganshina you expected a fight against the armored and the colossal, even the beast titan, but not a tactical war with pure titans that follow command, and most certainly not rocks killing your most skilled comrades and caging you against the wall.

Despite your fear, you felt a sarcastic chuckle slip past your lips. You’ve lived for years with nightmares of being eaten, and now you’re dying in a titan game of baseball, how pathetic.

Your eyes drifted to Erwin and Levi who were having a private conversation nearby as you tried to calm the panicking recruits. Erwin… your commander, your love, the man who never knew how to back down. He's not in the best physical state, but he just had to come along. He had to be here even though he knew he won't be able to fight.

Despite the fear eating at your heart, you kept your composure, that’s the least you owed your commander. After the recruits calmed down, you made your way to where Erwin and Levi stood. Their conversation halted as you stood in front of them, their eyes holding something unreadable in their depth.

"I'm hoping these looks mean you came up with a plan… " You spoke, your voice coming with the quiver you never hoped to show.

A moment of silence passed, a look shared between Erwin and Levi… if this meant anything then you weren’t about to hear good news. There was tension in the air as Erwin explained his plan to you. It was then that you understood the look in their eyes, you think a similar one can be seen in your eyes now.

It finally dawned on you that this is the end. There is no way out of this war alive. Erwin's plan had a single meaning; if you keep standing where you are, you'll be flattened by the rocks thrown at you by the beast, and if you fight back, you die. You'll have to give your lives so Levi could deal with the Beast Titan.

You always knew this day would come. A war with the titans can’t end without casualties. The survey corps numbers were always changing. These are all facts, but you had hoped it wouldn’t be like this.

The fear was eating at your insides, it’s impossible to face titans without it, but you knew ever since your very first day with the corps that you’ll have to be ready to give your life. You were ready to accept it… that is, until Erwin spoke up again.

"We'd have to ask these young people to give up their lives. You'd need the skills of a first-rate con man to come up with a reason that convincing, so I doubt any of them would charge forward unless I was leading the way."

His words are like a slap back to reality, it wasn’t just your life you were giving. All of your remaining comrades will have to give theirs too, including the commander. The survey corps are going to be wiped out in a crazy move of mass suicide. But it wasn’t only your lives that would have to be given, and all it took was one look in Erwin’s eyes to know where this was going.

"Which would mean I'd be the first to die, " Erwin said and you held your breath waiting for his next words "without ever learning… what was in that basement."

You knew it, you knew this was coming but it still hurt. Amid this chaos, you managed to forget the reason why Erwin insisted to be here in the first place.

'Oh, Erwin, if only you weren't so stubborn' The words were dancing on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t speak.

Of course, Erwin has dreams, he’s just as much of a human as everyone here. While most of the corps were fighting for freedom or revenge, Erwin was fighting for the truth, for evidence that his father’s death meant something.

The look of shock on Levi’s face came nowhere close to the pain you felt. You joined the scouts for a purpose, too. Your dream was freedom, you hoped to be free of the confinement and the terror that the existence of the titans brought. But, now that you think about it, you did get a taste of freedom.

You were free from the confinement of the walls on your horse, feeling the air rushing through your hair and over your skin every time you went out on an expedition.

You were free of terror every time you raised your swords to cut through the nape of a titan’s neck. Every time you brought a titan down you had a taste of the freedom you were chasing.

And the people who fought for revenge, didn’t they get that too? They killed titans, they felt the satisfaction of getting rid of the enemy who hurt them and their loved ones.

The only dream that was never given a chance was Erwin’s. How unfair could the world be to take away the only chance from the man who helped give almost every soldier in the scouts a taste of their dreams? No… he can’t die, not yet.  

You let Erwin give his speech. That’s one thing that no one else can do. Erwin is the only one who can convince the recruits, crying out in fear, to stand tall and fight back as they take their last breaths of the air filled with the smell of dust and death.

As Erwin and the recruits were absorbed in their final thoughts and the speech, you slightly pulled on Levi’s sleeve pulling him back several steps.

The first step of your plan came into action as you answered Levi’s questioning look with a whisper “I want you to distract him.”

“What?” Levi asked, the confusion only growing on his face.

“I want you to distract Erwin. He is giving his speech, I’ll lead the recruits to their death,” you say, your whole being pleading that Levi would agree to help you. He has to, this won’t work out without his help.

“But—”

“Levi, please. The scouts still need him, you know that!” you pause glancing back at Erwin to make sure he’s not listening “When it’s time to move, I want you to pull him aside, tell him it’s something important. It’ll only take a few seconds, then you can carry out your part of the plan and kill the beast.”

“And how do you plan to stop Erwin from following you?”

“I’ll take any extra horses with me, he won’t be able to help you kill the beast and his odm gear won’t do much for him to follow after me,” you held your breath, your eyes pleading. This has to work “Please! Just do me this final favor.”

A moment passed as Levi glanced at Erwin then back to you, his expression unreadable. It was obvious your sacrifice isn’t just for the sake of the corps. “...Fine, but you’ll have to be quick”

“I’ll do my best… Thank you, Levi” the smile that spread across your face was blinding. It held so much gratitude, a final thank you combined with a goodbye.

It didn’t take long for Erwin’s words to give everyone back their composure. You helped everyone fall in line as fast as possible. You are running out of time. The houses around you are almost flattened. You have to move forward, this has to work. You can’t fail this, it has to be meaningful, for you, for the recruits who’ll pay their lives with you, for the whole of humanity… and most importantly, for Erwin.

Everyone is on their horses but it’s not time to move yet. You let your eyes meet Levi’s for one last time giving him a slight nod, signaling for him that you’re ready as you settled on your horse.

Levi stopped Erwin from riding his horse beside you, telling him there’s something important that he has to know first and pulling him aside. He walked Erwin as far from you and the recruits as possible without making it seem suspicious.

Erwin followed urgently after Levi not even allowing you one last look at his face. But that was ok, you didn’t need to see his face, it was already burned to the back of your eyelids.

It all took a few seconds, once you saw Levi and Erwin start talking you took hold of Erwin’s horse and started screaming encouragements for the recruits to charge as you rushed forward. Erwin’s shock had him freeze for a couple of seconds and that was enough for you.

You charged forward with the recruits right after you. Levi waited for a few more seconds to make sure Erwin wouldn’t follow after you. When he was sure you were far enough he took off towards his target, leaving Erwin standing there alone his eyes wide in shock.

Your screams of encouragement were so loud, louder than Erwin ever heard them. They were loud enough that even though you were too far away for him to follow he could still hear your voice filled with determination.

You didn’t look back, there was no reason to. This is the right decision, this plan will work and Erwin will lead what’s left of the scouts to victory. Your life is a small price to pay, it’s nothing compared to the rest of the lives that were already lost.

You can see the beast drawing his hand back, getting ready to shower you with the next round of crushed boulders. Your yelling never stopped even though your throat was running sore from all the screaming.

You didn’t stop when the flares were shot, not when the rocks started showering the frontline lead by you. You didn’t stop when the rocks started growing larger in your vision, you hardly even saw them. All you could see was the future, a bright one without the titans and the fear and the pain. You could see the past, the best and the worst of it. All the memories that you shared with every single one of your comrades.

You kept yelling for everyone to rush forward as tears ran down your face. It’s going to be ok, you had all you ever needed. It was time for you to follow through the same path your fallen comrades walked.

Your screams were cut short when the first rock hit you, sharp pain running through your whole body and the world started spinning as you fell off your horse. The tears still filling your eyes helped blind you, sharp whistles filling your ears and the ever-growing pain flowing through you in waves.

You could hear screams of the fallen around you, hidden behind the ringing in your ears. You could feel the air rushing across your skin as the soldiers rushed past you on their horses. Your mind was as paralyzed with pain as your body.

You just laid on the ground, your tear-filled eyes directed to the blue of the sky but the world has lost its color. It went on forever until you were numb, you have lost all feeling, the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heart growing faint as the blood pooled around your body.

You let your eyelids cover your eyes like curtains, your mind swimming somewhere between consciousness and an endless void. You could hardly feel a thing.

It almost felt like falling asleep, your grasp on reality slipping away. But through the back of your mind, the tiny part that was still conscious could feel your body being moved by someone and a rapid rush of air running across your skin.

It gave a jolt to your brain as if something is trying to pull you back to reality but you were too weak. All you wanted was some rest, you just wanted to sleep.

It was a shock to everyone that you’re still alive. You were in bad shape after losing so much blood. Your breath was faint, but it was there and it was enough for you to be revived by the injection. Armin’s state was worse, the fact he was still breathing was a complete miracle, his whole burned away.

Through your clouded consciousness, you could register voices and movement around your body that laid motionless close to Armin’s. It took everything in you to open your eyes, to try to make out the words being yelled back and forth around you.

Through your blurry vision, you could make out the outline of a face so close to yours, peering down at you. You couldn’t see clearly but you knew it was Erwin. Your hearing wasn’t fully registered but you could make out a few words, things like ‘Armin’, ‘Injection’, ‘need’, and your name.

Your foggy mind could barely understand what was going on, but questions started to fill up the part of your consciousness still present.

Were you dying? The last thing you remember is sharp pain rushing through you in waves, but it seems more like a distant memory.

Was Armin dying? If there are mentions of Levi’s injection then this surely is the case.

A few seconds passed when a new figure appeared in your limited line of vision looking down at you over Erwin’s shoulder. Both of them shifted around until the short figure disappeared again, leaving you with Erwin.

Erwin’s voice was so close to your ears, faint whispers about how it’s going to be alright falling past his lips. You felt a huge hand wrap gently around your forearm, followed by a sharp object touching your arm. The injection!

“No,” The barely audible whisper that left you halted Erwin’s actions as his eyes shot to your face “Did we win?”

It felt like too much time has passed before you heard Erwin’s reply “Yes, it’s over”

You were using up too much of your energy to fight back the fog filling your mind. Just a few seconds more, a few more and you’ll allow yourself some rest.

“Save… Armin” your voice was growing weaker, breaths growing shorter.

It broke Erwin’s heart. He was once again being selfish, everyone else chose to save you because you had more experience. To them, you were more valuable to the scouts, with the exception of Armin’s friends who couldn’t accept the fact of him dying.

And Erwin? He wasn’t much different. He wanted to save you because he needed to. He needed to scold you for the stupid move you pulled. He needed to tell you that he would’ve preferred dying by your side than be faced with your death. He needed you to live.

You didn’t understand, he can’t let you die. There was no time for him to explain how valuable you are to the scouts, how valuable you are to him.

He was about to ignore what you said, bring the syringe back to your arm again but with the almost non-existent strength you had, you pulled away.

“Armin” you whispered again, weakly. Your strength wasn’t enough for you to pull back completely, just slightly shift your arm away from the sharp needle, but it was enough to send your message across.

Erwin understood. You were never as selfish as him. You always made the decisions that would benefit the ones you care about most. Erwin took a shaky breath, the composure he usually kept was there for everyone’s eyes, but he wasn’t as composed on the inside.

Armin is a valuable soldier. He is an essential part of the scouts and you understood that. He should be the one to live. And Erwin knew this fight would make no difference if he couldn’t throw everything he had away.

He was ready to throw his dreams and his life away, but you chose for him. You decided he’d keep his life and dreams but in exchange, he’d have to give you up.

After injecting Armin and pulling your weak body away, Erwin stayed by your side. He kept his one hand placed on your heart, waiting for the faint beating to completely stop. And it would have lasted longer if you hadn’t used up so much energy.

To your weak mind, this was the right decision. Armin would do more change for the scouts, for humanity than you ever could. You had no regrets, you’ve got everything you ever asked for.

You allowed your eyes to rest again, let the energy leave your body. And with the last few seconds your breath was there, you could register one whisper. I love you.

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[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part III)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

Summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: It will take more than a betrayal and blood blath for the reader to stop protecting those who really need it.

Words count: 4.7k

I knew things were going to go from bad to worse when we returned to Paradis; but I never imagined that I would have a letter from the Supreme Commander on my desk. Days had passed since my fiasco conversation with Eren, spreading the word of my insubordination towards the lack of notification to the respective authorities. Sure, the guards had let me into the cell just because they knew me, but I never had the decency to tell Hange-san or even ask for a meeting with the Supreme Commander.

And here I was. Wrapped up in a much bigger shit roll since I decided to enlist in the Survey Corps, with a simple letter demanding my presence in his office for a little "talk."

The medical center where I could do my practices with ease was quite far from the justice’s court where the Supreme Commander was, having to go out to ride through the beautifully paved streets. A street I crossed, a street I saw citizens read the newspapers that had brought so much catastrophe to peace within the walls. People were revolting against the militancy, demanding Eren's immediate release, praising he was the only one who could lead Eldia to its ultimate glory.

If they could heard themself right now. They spoke as if Paradis itself had become an empire, a power on the verge of attacking and taking every country under its feet. It was as if they wanted to turn the game around, to be us the empire and our enemies the war slaves.

I was still far from my destination, but the crowd could be seen cowering above the barred court doors. Men and women with posters screaming without sense or unity, an angry mob demanding explanations, ready to use violence to make their way into the hierarchy.

I got off my horse when I faced the crowd, needing to get up front and through the secured gate and with my loyal traveling companion I wasn't going to make it. I left him tied up outside a local, asking the owner to take care of him, if necessary, I would give him a monetary compensation on my returned.

I tried to get through the mob, asking permission, even nudging some people, but no matter how hard I tried to take a step forward, there was always a bastard blocking my way or pulling me back; They even had the decency to grab my coat and throw me off.

"Excuse me, but I need to pass"

Empty words at this situation. If they didn’t listen to the specialized people of the militancy, it was obvious that they wouldn’t listen to me, a simple doctor in practice for the legion.

"Free the leader of the Eldian empire"

"Free Eren Jaeger"

"Give us some damn answer"

"Fuck off you cheap bitch"

The day wasn’t even beginning and I was already receiving hateful comments, typical of closed minds.

I looked around for a solution, I was wasting valuable time and starting to get irritated. If I was late for my meeting with the Supreme Commander, who knows what punishment he would give me apart from my insubordination.

Besides of the mob there wasn’t much more than a few elegant houses and shops, no other entrance except the one in the backyard, but to get there, I would have to go all the way around the building and it would take much longer. The walls were too high to jump alone and too smooth to climb, otherwise enough people would have sneaked in by now.

I turned my head towards my horse, which was still in the same position where I left him, patiently awaiting my return. Surely what I was about to do wasn’t going to please him one bit.

I ran as fast as I could and unhooked him from the wooden post, ignoring the comments of the owner of the premises who was indisputably claiming for his pay. Without turning my head to such scum, I motioned for the horse to turn around and run down the avenue, against the crowd. Being at a considered distance, I again instructed him to turn around and go as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry Phillip, you're going to have to forgive me for what I'm going to do"

We were a few meters from the mob, mentally preparing myself for the feat that was about to be accomplished. Almost arriving, about to impact, I gave him a little jerk to the right, guiding us towards the wall, and raised my legs towards his back, squatting against him, waiting for the right moment and the impulse he would give when braking hard.

When he was about to slam his trunk against the wall, Phillip stopped his galloping, propelling me forward and flying toward one of the door columns. I grabbed the stone as best I could, avoiding falling on my backside, and raised my legs towards the top, finally reaching my goal. Being already on top and looking at the terrified faces of the rebels, I went down to the other side of the door, slightly hurting my feet and hands in the fall.

"That was quite a show"

Hitch was already in front of me, malicious and proud on her face. She was giving a few applause to the air, trying to lift the spirits of the people of the military squad, even if her acting was a bit cocky.

"Desperate situations call for desperate measures." I waved my hands over the coat, looking at her with the same smug visage she was giving me.

I didn't like Hitch per se, but we weren't friends either. The way she acted and talked gave me bad vibes and I planned to stay as neutral as possible in her presence. Even her gazes seemed to want to pierce the soul of whoever she was speaking to, as if she wanted to undress you internally and seek your darkest and most shameful secrets. I would stick my hands in the fire by assuming that in her younger years she had been a bully or a blackmailer.

But it was better to keep those thoughts for yourself, before generating greater repercussions in the times that hugged us.

"Did you come to see Armin and Mikasa?"

Any thoughts I had of her dissipated.

"They ... are they here?"

I was fuzzy. Not because of the fact that I was uninformed about their actions when they left the legion barracks in the morning, which I was getting used to since last year, but because they were in the same place as me. What a coincidence.

To be honest, the two of them never owed me anything and it wasn't their duty to tell me where they were going every minute of the day, just like Hange. Each one of us had their own will to go where we were sung; But if the three of us were in court, and if they gave me the chance to guess, I would say that to see the Supreme Commander, it made me a bit suspicious.

"Yes, they are talking to the Supreme Commander to try to go talk to Eren"

I must have hit my head at some point in the battle of Marley, because lately every occurrence was quite impossible to believe. They were the ones who asked me to go talk to him a few days ago, they were the ones who questioned me when I returned to the waiting room where the few survivors of 104° Squad were;it was them who gave me a compassionate look as they saw I hadn’t accomplished much and I had ended any relationship that bound me with Eren.

And now here they were, demanding an audience with their childhood friend, while I would have to be judged for the same action. Something wasn’t fitting. I looked around trying to find them, or maybe to find an answer to the thousands of questions that were forming in my head, and finding no help, I turned to Hitch.

"What is going on? Why-"

Before I could finish my question, an explosion rumbled across the cobblestone floor, hurting our ears and knocking us to the ground. Fire and debris couldn’t only be seen in the air but also smelled, flooding our nostrils, causing us to cough and cover our eyes with debris.

I looked up to find a flare coming from one of the court offices and a heavy body falling in our direction. I couldn't make it out until it fell to the ground, leaving a stain of blood and ash around it, apart from leaving a trail of smoke from where it flew off. My eyes were opened with shock and amazement, since the person in front of me was nothing more and nothing less than the same militant leader, half of the body lost and burned by the explosion.

"Well ... that's new"

In all my years of service I have seen every horror inside and outside the walls. True, even the Survey Corps had acted against the law, but it was for the greater good, to expose the bastards who lived on the wall farthest from the sea. I had seen people hit and kick another for a piece of food when the wall Maria fell. I had seen how we were massacred one by one with bullets to the head as we tried to go beyond the walls.

But never in those years I had seen a rebellion like the one taking place, being willing to eliminate such an authoritarian figure as Darius Zackly.

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The chaos went unnoticed by a large part of the population, only those who were present at the time of the explosion and the military police were aware. Faced with such an atrocious event of treason, a small meeting was convened involving the most important heads of each faction; unfortunately I couldn’t be there, my presence had been required in a clinic a few meters from the court. There were quite a few injured.

Some had mild and harmless burns, others had large parts of the body with third degree burns. Some had splinters stuck in their arms and faces, some had a piece of wood stuck in their stomach.

A couple of hours had passed which seemed like weeks to me. I had been assigned the milder cases, but as I pulled the splinters out of a patient's eyes, I had the countless howls of people echoing in my head, listening as they took their last painful breaths. People who asked to die on purpose to ease the pain.

Hours passed and welcomed the next day. I had terrible black circles under my tired eyes, hands stained with dried blood and splintered; they’re fucked up and I needed to heal them as quickly as possible before they got infected. I grabbed the cutting tools and placed them on a metal tray, the cold of the surface soothing the pain in my hands, and although it wasn’t too heavy I felt like it trembled on my grip.

I heard the door open wide at the other side of my last patient's room, the front door, letting in multiple heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor. Apparently, the soldier who had entered was in a hurry or was about to deliver terrible news...I wish I had been wrong in the second option.

"Bad news, Eren Jaeger has escaped from the underground cell"

I dropped the metal tray on my feet, making the sound of metal and utensils rumble across the room. My hands were shaking even more and surely if I saw myself in a mirror I would see my face completely pale.

"If you want to free yourself from this cell, go ahead"

My words invaded my mind like a bucket of cold water, as if they wanted to make me see that I was to blame for his escape. I knew that sooner or later he’s going to free himself, his eyes showed it and by not getting an answer that contrasted with mine, it was perfect evidence of his plans. But even knowing it, even Hange knowing it, I didn't expect him to do it in a moment of such betrayal.

I cleaned my hands as best I could with a towel hanging over the room sink and grabbed my coat, rushing out of the clinic.

"I’m sorry, I need to go"

But where to go was the question. I had no idea where Eren might be, and even if I knew what he was going to win, surely he was with his followers and with the simple image of me approaching from the horizon, I would be dead in a matter of seconds ... or imprisoned, whatever happen first.

At the exit of the clinic, there were two soldiers of the military police standing guard and watching the justice’s court from the distance. I approached them with the intention of asking them about the whereabouts of the Survey Corps, but they looked at me like I had the plague and pushed me aside hostilely, almost knocking me to the ground. I kept my composure as best I could and looked for someone else to ask; I didn’t have to wait long, since a woman of my age with mahogany hair, extremely black and matted, pointed the way where my comareds had gone. According to her words, they’re heading towards a large and luxurious building in the middle of one of the main avenues, recognizing the word restaurant from the conversation between the riders.

The only place that matched that description was the restaurant where Nicolo worked.

I hurried out with Phillip galloping through people, avoiding stepping on them and apologizing on my back. If there was something clear to me in all this mess, it was that Hange would go to find answers among the working Marleyans of that place. Maybe something could be solved.

I was very wrong.

I rushed into the building, finding only a long entrance hall and a corridor that led to god knows where. No one was even around to see me panic and I didn't see a soul nearby either, the only thing if I could hear a heated discussion far away and heavy footsteps on the floor. I let myself be guided by the sound, running back to its origins and finding a bizarre and meaningless scene in front of my eyes.

The room that seemed to be the main one hosted the orphaned children of the Blouse farm as well as Sasha's parents, sad and anguished parents if I paid better attention. The children were just as sad, with tears in their eyes, especially Kaya; they were crying the same way as on the day Sasha's death was reported. They were cornered under a window all together, hugging each other and letting the rays of the sun streaming through the window illuminate their figures, as if those rays could replace the heat that Sasha had left behind.

That scene broke my still fragile heart. I would have liked to reach out to them and try to help them move on, as I would have liked to stay on the farm with them when we came back from Marley to help them get by; obviously I could never have replaced Sasha and they could never have replaced my family, but in these times of battle, what mattered most was healing the wounds between all of us.

I would have liked to talk to them, but my eyes shifted from the Blouse family to the figure of Hange carefully placing a child on the floor. The blond boy was very badly injured on the side of his head, he was bleeding and his clothes had stuck to his body due to the large amount of liquid that had flowed down his torso.

"Hange-san, Wha-" As I stared at the blond boy on the floor, I could see that he was one of the children who had sneaked into our war balloon.

“Isn't that one of the Marleyan children? Why is he here and why is he bleeding?"

Unconsciously my body leaned forward, resting on one knee on the ground and reaching out to the boy. My instincts as a doctor were screaming for me to tend to the poor injured boy regardless of his race and I was willing to do so.

"We will take care of him, go to the room continue with Mikasa and Armin"

I got up without hesitation, taking one last look at the room I was in and it was just at that moment that I recognized Nicolo and Jean in a corner away from everyone else. They both looked very distressed, but I didn't have the opportunity to ask why, they had given me an order and I had to carry it out. I would have to wait until got back to base to understand this terrible situation.

The room they sent me to was at the end of the corridor, the door was closed but every step I took I could hear the soft voices of Mikasa and Armin, apparently talking to someone else. Well, that conversation must have to get a pause because I was about to slam the door in and leave the doors wide open.

“What the hell is going on? Why is a Marleyan child unconscious in the kitchen?"

Upon entering, all excited, my eyes only saw the figures of Armin and Mikasa around a table. They both looked up at me in disbelief when they saw me standing on the threshold. For the second time that day, I looked back across the stage in front of me and spotted a small brown-haired figure sitting at the same table. With a little more attention, I saw that the small figure was trembling, perhaps from fear or from adrenaline, at the same time that its face was bruised and full of blood; and putting all my attention on that bloody face I realized that I recognized those eyes, those same eyes that I had looked at with contempt and had looked back at me with the same feeling the night of the invasion.

The missing girl from the Marleyan duo was sitting across from me staring with sheep's eyes.

All exaltation I had in my body dissipated, my gaze fell, leaving nothing more than a neutral countenance. But ... anyone who could see through my eyes, would know they reflected the fatigue and sadness of several accumulated days. Seeing the girl was perhaps a way of attaching all the harmful feelings in a single part of my body.

I let out a long sigh and closed the door slowly behind me. I walked slowly towards where the girl was, running Mikasa to the side and looked at her with the best possible adult countenance. She had a red nose, it looked like it had been hit right on her septum causing her to bleed and stain her dress, which I assumed was courtesy of the Blouse family. Her cheek was scratched and red too, traces of broken and inflamed skin could be seen around her wound, but without any bleeding. This girl would have a swollen face the next day if we don't give her some ice.

“You’re hurt. Care to explain me what happened?"

I reached my hand out to her, but was greeted with a flinch from her. I could tell she was scared and she had every right to be.Either way, way I brought my hand to her face, placing my index finger and thumb on her jaw to move her head and look for other injuries.

Her face was the one that received the most impact, nothing in her eyes which was a very good sign, and I didn’t notice any kind of fracture in the bones of her cheek or septum. Good. I looked around the room for something I could use, but I only found empty tables adorned with a classic tablecloth and a very well elaborated and cared wine cellar, apart from showing off one of the best wine collections in recent years.

"Armin, can you go get some alcohol to disinfect the wounds? Surely they have something in the kitchen "

The blonde gave me a slight nod and left the room, leaving me alone with Mikasa, who was absolved of the situation, but still maintaining an imposing posture. The girl was still shaking on my hand, so I pushed her away and inspected her body for more injuries.

The palms of her hands were stained with blood, I guessed from the bleeding from her nose, but they also had some slight scratches, perhaps she had fallen to the floor. Her dress didn’t seem torn in the area of ​​the knees, so I assumed that they weren’t injured or it was a very slight scratch, almost no bleeding. Her arms seemed intact as did her torso. I turned to the back of her head, running her hair gently trying to find any trace of blow that could generate a contusion. I didn’t find anything that could be fatal or serious, but I did see something that caught my attention.

“You have marks on your head, diffuse, but they are there. What happened?"

"... A horse bit me"

Of all the situations that could have led to those brands, I didn't expect to hear this one. I didn’t expect it, not at all. It caught me off guard and I let out a giggle which I covered with the back of my hand.

"Sorry, shouldn't laugh… you deserve it thou" I gave her a little pat on the top of her head before ruffling it a bit and bending down to look into her eyes.

Armin returned to the room, alcohol in hand and a clean cloth. Thank God something was clean in this whole city, I was beginning to lose my faith in the cleanliness of this people. I reached for the items and I proceeded to apply a large amount of alcohol to the cloth and apply it first to the frightened girl's cheek.

"Why are you so good to me? I killed a one of your friends"

That comment made me stop for a second, just like I stopped looking at her wound. My gaze fell to the floor in search of an answer; I searched, searched and searched for answers to questions that didn’t have one or weren’t as simple as they seemed...or simply looked in the wrong places and the answers were always in my mind, only that my heart wasn’t prepared to face them.

"The girl you killed the night of the invasion was called Sasha Blouse and she was the best archer and sniper of the legion"

I turned my gaze to her, continuing to heal her wound on her cheek. When I saw that there was only a small pink stain left on the surface, I moistened the cloth further with alcohol and ran it under her nose, removing any trace of blood. The girl pulled back a bit when she felt it’s smell her nostrils and I had the opportunity to cover her nose for a few seconds to stop the bleeding.

"You know ... you remind me of a boy exactly like you"

When I saw that the bleeding stopped and the girl stopped moving due to the burning and itching that the alcohol was surely causing, I grabbed her hands and began to clean them with small touches avoiding tearing her skin.

“Just as intense and ready to fight for what he thinks is fair. You are just a little girl who was taught that we were the bad guys. It’s the way you were raised, the way you see the world. They taught us something else, but at the end of the day, apart from everything... we are the same"

It hurt. Yes, it hurt to see the one guilty of the death of my best friend, but it hurt more to see in her eyes the hatred and contempt they had taught her towards our race. The hate cycle we were getting into wasn't going to get us anywhere and it was better to nip it in the bud, even with baby steps.

When I finished cleaning all her wounds, I put the cloth on the table and looked at my performance with deep pride. It wasn't much, but it was enough; Not only had I cleaned a few simple wounds, but perhaps, I wished that perhaps, it would begin to heal her mind ... and mine as well.

I got up heavily, noticing how my knees creaked when squatting for a long time and I stretched my body generating more crunches, but noting at the same time how the heaviness of my back left and leave behind a much lighter load.

“Very good, you’ve been a good patient. Surely there is something sweet in the kitchen that I can give you” I patted her head again and gave her a sincere smile, one that I hadn't given anyone for quite a while. I headed to the door unconcerned about the situation I assumed was still going on in the main room.

"What's going to happen to Eren Jaeger?"

What will happen to him? And why does she ask me that?

"Don't worry, I'm not letting him put a finger on you" A sincere answer to a question asked out of fear. I reached the door and in the middle of the sentence I turned the knob wanting to make my way into the hall, but a tall figure blocked my way.

Eren was right on the threshold with the intention of opening it.

Well mark me impress

My body jerked back instinctively, avoiding taking my eyes off his. I moved to the right side, avoiding the figure of the Marleyan girl from being in Eren's point of view. I didn't know why he was here or if the others knew about it, but whatever the reason, he surely wasn’t alone and this wasn’t going to lead to anything good.

"Sit down"

He took a few steps forward, closing the door with his foot, not even paying attention to his surroundings, or maybe yes, now everything was a confusion when it came to the brunette in front of us.

"You can't tell me what to do" I planted myself in front of him, without taking a step back. We were both facing each other, him carrying me several inches tall, several dominating inches that made my legs shake and my heart race.

If it had been in any other situation, that trembling, that acceleration would have been very well received. It was impossible not to feel small next to Eren, the damn bastard had hit a big stretch and there was a great difference around the body between the two, a difference that I always loved to admire.

But not now. Not at this moment when everything was going to shit and I had to stand up to the figure of a little girl who was internally dying of fear thanks to him.

"Sit. Down"

Few centimeters separated us from each other, his chest too close to mine, I could feel how it swelled with each breath. He raised his hand to my face, letting me see his cut palm and dripping blood. Fear took hold of me, making me stand even more in my position, but I wasn’t going to give in so easily.

"You wouldn't" I looked him in the eye, defiant, longed for and everything in between.

"Try me"

It was all he said before grabbing onto my shoulders and pulling me back. My body collided with the table and instinctively I placed my hands on it. I heard how Armin and Mikasa tried to get closer to where we were, but a single glance from Eren made them stay still, submissive, as they lost in their positions. His gaze returned to mine. My breath hitched and I had to avoid with all my might thinking about the position we were entwined.

It wasn’t the time to think about how my hips were slightly elevated, just my butt up on the table and one leg dangling, his knee between my legs, preventing me from closing them and keeping the leg that was hanging in the air. His gaze wandered between our bodies and he returned to my eyes. He tightened his grip on my shoulders and pushed me to the side of the table, dropping me onto the chair next to the girl.

"I said. Sit. Down"

He took his hands off my shoulders, took the seat next to me and Armin and Mikasa sat with him, leaving an air of discomfort and tension in the environment.

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[itsclydebitches]

I'm not sure which I'd prefer: If we stuck to Ruby's group in the void world or the show tried to balance void world with the plots on Remnant (or at least, Vacuo+Salem). Because the latter would be insanely bloated, but I don't know how they could stretch the former out to a volume's regular run time. Plus, it'd mean we go at least a volume left hanging on all the plots on Remnant and there's no telling what they will and won't go into in flashbacks in V10 and/or spinoff stuff like novels.

Though I honestly believe that both options have their problems and that it's a huge mistake for any time to be spent away from the main Salem action right when she's about to secure her victory... I'm leaning towards all of Volume 9 being in the void world, with an expected glimpse into Remnant at the Volume's end. You're right, trying to maintain both plotlines would not only keep the bloated state we've been dealing with lately, but would split it across three, possibly four main locations: void world, Vacuo, Atlas (where Qrow, Maria, and Robyn are), and possibly wherever Salem is too, if she doesn't also use Ambrosius to hop straight to Vacuo. Have we had a four-way split with the cast before? Sure, but these are rather different circumstances. It's not an even split among our four main girls, for one, and that imbalance means that every episode, or half episode, we may feel like we're wasting time on side-characters. Are we going to be interested in Vacuo when our four title protagonists (plus Jaune) are off in a presumed afterlife? Are we going to be invested in an afterlife side quest when Oscar and the others are doing the real work back home? I can't easily imagine a split where the fandom doesn't become frustrated with where the show is putting its attention. Better imo to have a full Volume of the girls on their adventure, perhaps securing power or knowledge to take back to the fight, and then return to Remnant prior to any major events taking place, so Team RWBY is actually a part of all that. Seeing Vacuo for the first time, meeting Theodore, dealing with the refugees, managing a new Maiden, checking in on the Relic, fighting Salem again if she shows up... is RWBY really going to start all that with just Oscar, Ren, Nora, and Emerald? I'd personally pull some time shenanigans and dump Team RWBY back in the Volume 8 finale timeframe, right when the group is getting attacked by desert grim. They are, theoretically, dead. Who's to say time is passing for them at all? Give us a Volume 9 on the island and then have Team RWBY reappear right where Volume 8 ended, ensuring the B Team doesn't do anything too important without them. This would also ensure that the B Team never has to grieve for the death of six friends because, frankly, I don't trust RWBY to write that well. I'd rather Team RWBYJ reappear before/right after the others learn that they "died" and everyone just continues to work through Penny's death, rather than watching an attempt at having them mourn to that extent, knowing the show is going to just take it all back.

As for the question of how to fill up that time, I think there's plenty. Actually, that's another reason why I think Volume 9 should be just the island. Are we really going to have the group die, end up in a totally new world, potentially meet the Gods... and tackle all of that for only half to a quarter of the Volume time? RWBY already feels rushed and fails to flesh out important story beats. We don't need to crank that up to ten by speed running through another reality, RT saying six months later that they wanted to include/explain/develop this, that, and the other thing, but there just wasn't time. The group needs to find each other in this place — that could be the split! — establish where they are, deal with Neo, grieve for Penny, find their weapons or get new ones (Jaune), hopefully accomplish something there, figure out how to get home, and then actually manage to do that. That's actually a huge amount to cover in a relatively short period of time, especially if we add in a subplot or two. Throw in a bunch of cool fights with whatever might exist in this place, give the characters the time to deal with the clusterfuck of Volume 8, establish the long-term goal of getting home, sprinkle in some short-term conflicts, hurdles, emotional moments, and you've got yourself a recipe for a Volume that doesn't feel like it's trying to tackle too much and cutting a number of very important corners in the process.

[ill-skillsgard]

A Truth and a Lie - Henry Deaver x Mistress

Warning: 18+ smut/mentions of cheating/mature themes/strong language/spousal conflict. **mentions of impregnation and fertility issues in this part**

Note: This is Angstville. But that’s nothing new for this series! I know it’s been a while since I posted anything, but I’d really appreciate comments and reblogs. It would truly help me get back into the mood to write if you let me know your thoughts and whatnot. No pressure! 

Read past Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

Sudden drumming on the desk startled you from your morning daydreams. Henry peered down at you with a secret smile, one reserved for the rare occasion he caught you slacking off, though Henry would always follow it up with a forgiving wink. Henry rarely caught you off guard at work, and when he did, he was lenient with his reprimands. Most of the time, you were an astute secretary and completed assistive tasks before Henry mentioned them. You were trustworthy, capable, and much better at keeping track of dates and meetings than his last assistant. In a professional sense, you were the perfect employee, which was why it pained him to ask you into his office that morning.

You sat down in front of his desk as he closed the door. Henry tried to smile while adjusting his tie and fiddling with the button of his suit jacket. By the time he sat down, Henry looked frazzled.

“I’m sorry to take you from your work,” Henry began.

“That’s all right, sir.”

You still insisted on the formal address, even behind closed doors. It never failed to twist his mouth upward. Still, he shuffled a few papers on his desk, sighed, then wiped invisible sleep from his eyes.

“What’s the matter, Henry?” You asked, realizing the meeting wasn’t an excuse to keep you close.

Henry let out another distressed sigh, touched your knee and then sat back in his chair. “I don’t want this, darling. Truly, I don’t.”

“Oh, God. Are you firing me?” You whispered.

“Baby... If you haven’t changed your mind about marrying me—and don’t worry, I’ll still propose to you in the traditional way—then we must separate work from home. And since you are my home, and every time I look at you, I feel my heart drop-kick in my chest, it means you won’t be able to work for me here. It’s only to spare us the headache and gossip. I can’t have my soon-to-be-fiance and mother of my children working for me.”

You pressed your lips and exhaled, as you’d suspected your days at the office would soon expire, especially after the news about Mary’s covert investigation. Henry had insisted he would take care of it, and you’d keep her job, but with the promise of marriage and children on the horizon, his guarantee lost substance.

He reached across the desk and motioned for your hand, intent on squeezing it until the urge to kiss the back of your palm overcame him. 

“Please don’t be mad at me, sweetheart. You’re the only person I want at my side.”

“I understand,” you said. 

“Really?” His eyes glistened.

You nodded, determined to soothe the regret on his face. “Of course. I want to start our family more than anything. More than I want this job... No offence. It’s a great job, my boss is ridiculously good-looking, and the pay is nice, but... I’d rather marry you and start thinking of names for our twins.”

“Twins?” Henry asked, cheeks burning and eyes glinting.

Again, you nodded. “Yes. It runs in my gene pool. We have a high chance of double-trouble.”

The man across the desk relaxed his shoulders and smiled wide enough to leave indentations around his mouth when he finally composed himself.

“Sweetheart, you make me the happiest man in the world. I love you so much; I can’t stand it sometimes. You’ve been the best employee and an even better partner. As much as it kills me to do this, it’s only for us. I’ll even let you choose your replacement.”

“Good. Then I can make sure you won’t hire some young honey to schedule your meetings and book your flights,” you quipped.

“I’d never—you know I wouldn’t.”

“I’m kidding, Henry.”

“So, you’re not pissed at me?” He asked.

“No, silly. I’m not pissed. I thought we’d be having this conversation much sooner, to be honest. But you held out until the last minute, didn’t you?”

Henry bit his lip, sudden darkness taking over his bright eyes. “I just wanna get you pregnant so badly.” 

You shifted closer, leaning over the desk and hugging your arms to your side to push out your breasts. “You mean like this morning when you woke me up at six AM to fuck me and fill me full of cum?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, running his hand over his face as his eyes fluttered. “Exactly like that.”

“Well, then I suppose since you’re canning my ass, you might as well take me out to lunch so you can tap it, too.”

“I can swing that,” said Henry under his breath.

You rose from the seat and winked. “I’ll see you at noon. Maria’s?”

“I was thinking more like Steel Heron.”

“Wow! Very fancy. I hope I can get us a reservation.”

“Make it under Deaver. That should do the trick.”

With a wiggle and a smirk, you quirked one shoulder while crossing to the office door. “My powerful Mr. Deaver.”

“I love you, baby. I wish I could kiss you.”

“You can kiss me all you want in the car later on.”

Henry chuckled. “You got it, gorgeous.”

~*~

When your food arrived after twenty minutes of indecision, you both wolfed down overpriced entrees, then rushed to the parking lot to duck into the backseat of Henry’s car. Once he closed the door, you wrestled his pants down to his knees, taking hold of his half-firm shaft to massage until he grew hard and breathless. 

“Get your panties off,” Henry panted. “Quick. Pull them to the side and ride me.”

You scrabbled to sit astride his lap, stretching your underwear over so Henry could prod your entrance with a few mild strokes. He bucked his hips up and met resistance, groaning already.

“Fuck, Henry. I’ll never get used to that cock. You’re so big.” 

“And I’ll never get used to this tiny little hole. Oh, my gosh, but you take it so well.”

You sank, moaning from every inch of flesh sliding inside. Clutching at each other, kissing with ferocious intensity, Henry gripped your thighs and guided you back and forth, the momentum rocking the car. The top of your head grazed the roof until Henry wrapped his hand around your nape and pulled you in for a crushing kiss.

“You okay, baby?” He asked, breath hot on your cheek.

“Yes,” you squeaked.

“God, I’m already close. I can’t fucking take it. You’re gonna make me bust.”

“Do it,” you said. “Cum inside me, sir.”

Henry let out a satisfied laugh. “Oh, I will, honey. You’ll be a mommy when the day is through. I’m taking you home later on and fucking you again and again just to be sure.”

“You’re gonna be a daddy soon,” you replied, running your hands through his soft brown hair.

He stuffed his face between your shoulder and jaw, licking at your pulse. “I hope so, baby. Fuck, I hope so.”

As promised, Henry lasted no longer than a few well-angled thrusts. The pulses and spurts filled you, sending shivers over your shoulders and up your neck. When he slackened from his fading orgasm, Henry placed you gently on your back and stared between your legs as your panties rolled back into place, a dark blot forming where his seed leaked out. He couldn’t help himself and reached over to rub your pussy over the thin cotton, feeling the wetness he’d left inside.

“Does it matter how long you keep it inside?” Henry asked after you both rolled down the windows for fresh air.

“I’m not sure. Maybe we can go to a bookstore to find some reading material? We can do some research together.”

“That’s a great idea, honey. But I have that meeting at 4:30, so I might be a little late getting out. If you want to leave, I’ll grab you afterward. You know how those guys gab.”

Henry helped you out of the car, offering his hand for support while you wobbled to the passenger side door. When you ducked in and put on your seatbelt, Henry leaned into the vehicle and kissed you long and hard.

You gave him a knowing smile. “I can’t wait… Daddy.”

Henry blushed all the way back to the office, happy to have you at his side wrestling with a smirk as cum smeared between your thighs underneath your grey pencil skirt. 

~*~

As predicted, Henry’s meeting ran late, and you didn’t wait to go home to shower before your outing. Though he’d smattered your legs with cum and it had dried in crusty blotches, you didn’t care. You’d shower and change into comfier clothes for your outing with Henry later.

You whistled on the way home, the repetitive song playing over the radio—something that would usually irritate you—catching you in just the right mood. The drive was long, but you didn’t mind. All you thought about was finding baby books with Henry, then going home to try your luck at becoming parents again. 

Daydreams of Henry’s future proposal tickled your insides and had you smiling as you turned street corners. Even the rotten news from Henry’s latest encounter with his soon-to-be ex-wife fell away, and you navigated the busy lanes without a care. A pleasant warmth filled your chest, reminding you of all the fond memories and good times with Henry to come.

Your love for him expanded day by day, with each minute at his side, and every breath you took. Why Mary tossed such an attentive man aside baffled you, but only enough to make you scoff to yourself and thank the higher powers for putting that same loving, selfless man in your path. Sure, your past wasn’t the most sterling love story, but it had room to grow into the relationship you’d always wanted.

Recalling Henry’s smile reflected on your face. His emotive looks and passionate eyes were always enchanting, even when he wasn’t in your presence. Sick with the intoxication of love, you sighed as you pulled into the visitor parking spot. Henry kept meaning to get you your own spot next to his, but extra work had taken away most of his free time.

You shouldered your purse, selected the fob from your ring of keys, and locked the car before sauntering toward the door leading to the parking lot stairwell. Up those stairs was the elevator, but you didn’t get that far before somebody cleared their throat from behind.

Whipping around, you noticed a woman standing near a Lexus. She wore a burgundy business suit with a knee-length pencil skirt that hung loosely about her thighs. Her hair twisted into a bun on top of her head, thin-framed glasses perched on her nose. The woman looked familiar to you, but in the dimly lit parking garage, it took you a few steps forward to realize who meant to grab your attention.

It was Mary.

“Uh, hi?” You said.

“Hello, Missy.”

You sneered at the address but soon dropped your sour expression. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to deliver you some bad news.”

“Henry isn’t here—”

“No, not Henry,” she interjected. “You.”

“Me? What do you want to speak to me for?”

Mary smirked, taking two steps away from her vehicle. You clutched your bag and drew your shoulders back. The woman posed no physical threat, but something about her was worrisome. Your only knowledge of her temperament stemmed from two encounters—both leaving an unflattering impression. Would she come after you? Did she have it in her to shed all professionalism and launch into a physical assault?

“There’s something I think you should know about Henry.”

You looked around the parking garage. Soon, cars would pull in, tired people walking by to reach the elevator. Mary had lived there at one point. Surely she wouldn’t try to hurt you when she knew about the surveillance cameras planted around the lot.

“I don’t understand. How did you know I’d be here?” You asked.

Mary chuckled. “Well, it’s the last Friday of the month, and Henry always has his board meeting at 4:30. He and all those stuck-up codgers never get out of the office until they’ve spent twenty minutes talking business and two hours discussing the prostitutes they took to this place and that, their golfing tournaments, their second and third wives. Trust me, sweetheart. I’ve been in your position before. I know Henry and his associates front-to-back. Which is why I’m warning you.”

A sinkhole opened in your gut, swallowing all the warmth and happiness you were feeling throughout the day. You scraped your thighs together, feeling flakes of semen come off from the motion. If only Mary knew her husband’s cum had been dripping from your slit since lunchtime. This secret fact made you smirk for a moment until you read the seriousness lining her forehead and framing her mouth.

“Well?” You encouraged with an air of impatience. “Out with it then.”

Not one to take orders, Mary clicked her tongue and shook her head. She longed to watch the disappointment on your face as she trampled upon your joy, so she prolonged the silence until you grew visibly perturbed.

“I assume Henry told you about what happened when he paid me a visit the other day?”

“Of course, he did. I’m helping him handle the case.”

Mary tilted her head with an audacious smile. “Yes. That comes as no surprise. He’d never clean up after himself. Henry always needed a woman to do it for him.”

You made a disgusted face, adjusting your purse strap and rolling your eyes. Mary carried on as a sleek black Audi pulled into the parking garage, missing you both by inches.

“He must have made you all kinds of promises when he got home, am I right?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because that’s what he does after he’s fucked up. Let me tell you something... After he jumped in the sack with you, he came home to me and promised to be a better husband. He told me he’d go to counselling, take me on a second honeymoon, buy me whatever I wanted. All because he felt guilty. I’m willing to bet he came home that day and made similar promises to you. Maybe even told you he plans to marry you after all is said and done.”

Your mouth trembled, and you were thankful for the dimness. You wanted to tell Mary off, but she had your curiosity hooked.

“How do you know that?” You whispered.

“I already told you. I know Henry better than anyone. Better than you ever will. We were married for over fifteen years, remember?”

There wasn’t enough air entering your lungs, so you opened your mouth and took in a deep breath.

“I wanted to test him. I had to see whether he really loved you or if he was just using you to fill the void. It turns out he has genuine feelings for you, but not enough to keep him from fucking me.”

“What?” You gasped.

“That’s right,” Mary said, smirking. “I told Henry if he took me then and there, right in the kitchen, I’d call off the renegotiation and let him have what he wanted—the clean break he needed to continue with his happy, albeit staged, little happy life. He took the bait immediately.”

“No, he did not!” You exclaimed.

Mary chuckled, taking another step toward you. “You idiot. He cheated on me. Do you honestly believe he wouldn’t do the same to you? That man was raised in one of the worst misogynistic environments I’ve ever witnessed. Look at the men he calls friends! Sure, they all have their trophy wives, but when they go away on business, it’s blowjobs in the back of strip clubs, hookers at 3 AM and sushi on naked women. Have you never listened in on one of their meetings?”

“I’d never. I trust Henry,” you said, voice quivering.

“You’re a dolt to trust him or anyone he associates with. Henry is a pervert. A useless, sterile sack of shit. Why do you think I turned away? I was sick of getting cheated on.”

“Sterile?” You repeated.

Mary cocked her head, then opened her mouth to gasp softly. “That’s right. Henry and I never conceived because he can’t have children.”

Your hands shook, and every breath you took shuddered in your chest. “That can’t be true. He would have told me.”

The woman six feet away from you shook her head with remorse. She allowed an excruciating silence to pass before sighing. Something changed about Mary’s face. One moment she looked smug and eager to rile you up, and the next, she looked calm, distant... Almost sad.

“There was a time when I truly loved Henry. When any time I thought of my future, I saw us together with several kids. And we tried, we really did. For months and months, we tried getting pregnant. Finally, we went to a fertility clinic, but Henry had his qualms. He insisted it was all chance; that if we kept at it, eventually we’d conceive. We got tested, but the results take time. Well, Henry went to Thailand with Frank and some other colleagues—and trust me, you do not want to hear the stories that came back with them—leaving me alone at home, fretting. But that didn’t matter. I was used to it.

“Anyway, while he was off living it up in paradise, I got the results back. The doctor said I was fine, but Henry... Well, I just couldn’t tell him. I knew it would crush his spirit. Something like that would destroy his will to live, and I couldn’t bring that down on him while he was hitting the peak of his career. He was raking in raises and promotions, and I was on my own path. So, I swallowed the devastating news and saved him the heartbreak because I loved him and wanted what was best. But as time went on, my life and our marriage lost meaning. I couldn’t look at Henry the same. I couldn’t sleep with him because I knew he’d try to get me pregnant, and there was only so much stress I could handle. Sex is meant for procreation, and we would never rise to the task.”

The air in the parking garage grew chilly. More and more vehicles filed in, filling the atmosphere with dizzying fumes. Overhead, the lights flickered as nausea worked into your gut. You began to sweat and shiver at the same time.

“No. I don’t believe you. Who would ever do something so cruel? You’re just saying this so I’ll leave. You don’t love him. What kind of wife would keep a secret like that?”

“A wife who only wanted to see her husband become the best person he could be, which, evidently, still isn’t so great when you take into account all the terrible things he’s done to us.”

You shook your head and threw off your center of gravity. The heels of your shoes wobbled, or perhaps it was your knees knocking, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was you needed to sit down before you lost balance and toppled over. Mary saw this struggle and crossed her arms under her bosom.

“Like it or not, Missy, Henry isn’t the man you think he is. He’ll make all kinds of promises, but he’ll disappoint you in the end. Trust me.”

[marias-studyblr]

Hi maria ...lots of love from India. I wanted to ask that why you chose medicine and what or who inspires you the most in this world?

hi dear friend!! 💗🌿 sending my love your way too~~

buckle up this is a long one!

🌱 why i chose medicine?

it's still to this day something ingrained in me and i don't really know how to explain an exact click. there wasn't a significant event that i remember. my first memory was when my primary school teacher asked me if i knew what i wanted to be and i answered doctor without thinking twice.

i'm one of those people who always knew their path for some unknown reason - it's not that i have someone in my family who is a doctor, i've never had any doctor in my life to look up to. i think i knew doctors healed and took care of others, and that people came to them for advice and resources but i didn't overthink it much. however, in high school, it became my focus. the want to help others in such a meaningful way, and the mystery of what i later learned was physiology and pathophysiology grew in me as i went through my high school years, and it was the only thing i could imagine myself doing. i wanted to become more, do more, and medicine was the future i envisioned, though i had no idea what it was actually like. now, i understand there were many more options if that didn't end up happening, but at the time it was the only thing i thought of or even applied to, even with zero confidence in myself... it was really rough mentally, knowing the kind of grades medicine requires and doing it absolutely by myself.

now, about to enter my fifth year, this dream has become a lot more palpable. i've actually seen it first hand and chatted about it with real-life doctors. the dream is still there though now it has taken a form in my mind if that makes sense? before i couldn't even imagine a doctor's routine, now i've followed it. it became something i can picture, something that is doable, and not this unreachable abstract idea. importantly, i've seen doctors struggle and reach for help, and that gave me an understanding of what the learning curve will be like and the reassurance that it's okay to not know everything.

it has become more tangible but at the same time more and more mind-blowing. i cannot believe there are only two more years until my childhood dream becomes a reality. there's a lot of stress and self-doubt involved!

🌱 what inspires me the most in this world?

i want to be useful and independent as soon as possible! that want has kept me going through my toughest darkest times. even when i didn't believe in myself not even a little bit, i believed there was always space to improve if i found a way. and that my future would look brighter because it had to, there had to be a purpose. i've always tried to explain my own emotions to myself - when i didn't have a blog or a yt to rant some stuff out i only thought or wrote to myself - focus on the light at the end of the tunnel, what that will look like.

maybe this is not making sense. T_T i'll try to rephrase. i've always daydreamed about a better future, i've always been very romantic even when things are shitty. even when i fail, i'm always thinking of the way out, something to do, i'm moving to make it happen. and it's not that i want to accomplish anything phenomenal, i've never wanted to be the best. all i look for is to be independent and live a quiet calm life. have my profession, my hobbies, my ordinary moments - i find so much beauty and content in that! it's what inspires me to keep working hard and when necessary get out of my comfort zone.

i know it in my bones that my anxiety and mental health will improve a lot once i start working and have some stability in my life.

so that's what is inspiring me in my studies and stuff :)💛 when it comes to wanting to keep improving myself mentally, in my relationships, keep learning new things, i definitely looked up to many people in my teen years, like emma watson, michelle obama, IU... or just random people i meet. i looked at their kindness, composure, confidence, how outspoken they are.

traits that i find are really valuable to have, it inspires me to be a better version of myself in the future. i learn how to handle myself in different situations better through experience! i can absolutely see a difference from just a few years ago, so i'll keep trying to learn and change for the better.

thank you for your questions, it really made me think and feel more inspired!💌

[quietlyimplode]

Five Songs.

Day 2 - prompt of Music for @clintasha-week Advent 2020

Five moments in time.

1/ St Ides

Crawling the broken fences, when shit gets hard

You know who your friend is

And when I lose perspective

Need to go to a place where I lose reception

“I just need a friend; not a lecture,” Natasha says quietly.

“Can I sit next to you?” Clint asks standing behind her.

“We’re on the top of a random building in New York, how’d you even find me?”

“Sometimes you come here when you’re sad. How can I not know?” Clint shifts from foot to foot, looking at her nervously. She’s sitting on the edge of the building. A move that would normally be his shiitic.

“You can sit.” Natasha swings her legs from back over the edge and looks at him. Jumping down, she slides down the wall and sits. Crossing his legs he sits next to her.

Tentatively he reaches for her hand, covering her fingers lightly.

They sit in silence, the remnants of the failed mission floating away in the moonlight.

2/ Toy Soldiers

I'm supposed to be the soldier who never blows his composure

Even though I hold the weight of the whole world on my shoulders

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Clint is furious. Angry doesn’t cover it, furious doesn’t touch it.

“I was thinking that we would lose more people if I didn’t.” It’s justified. Natasha thinks. What’s one life if so many more are at stake. Which Clint then calls her out on.

“At the cost of your own life?”

Yes, she thinks. Judging by his pacing, it’s not the answer he wants. She could placate him now or fight on this one. It’s an argument she knows is going to come up again. Fuck this. Let’s fight this one out.

“What the hell do you know? I made the right call. Without me they wouldn’t be on the quinjet back, without me we’d be at a funeral, without me..”

No more funerals. At least in the red room, there was no wakes, no funerals. She can’t stand the grief and the outpouring of emotions.

“You know what? Shut up. You made the wrong call, and it’s shear fucking dumb luck that you all made it out.” Natasha stares at him. Not luck. Clear plan, followed through by skill. Dangerous, maybe but not suicidal.

“So what? Just because you don’t have the guts to do it..” as soon as the words fly out, Natasha knows it’s a step too far.

“Fuck you and your fucking high horse.” Clint stalks out, slamming the door behind him.

.

They’re paired together 2 weeks later in a mission to Latvia. The tension bleeds through every interaction.

They’re made to share a room and it ends in another fight.

This time it’s physical.

It starts by Clint not observing personal space.

By the end of it, Clint has a black eye and Natasha has a knife wound on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t wrong though.” Natasha says passing him an ice pack.

“Maybe not, but either was I.” Clint passes her gauze.

“Truce?”

“Truce.”

3/ Are you with me?

I wanna dance by water 'neath the Mexican sky

Drink some Margaritas by a string of blue lights

Listen to the Mariachi play at midnight

Are you with me, are you with me?

“I love you.” Natasha says flippantly, grabbing her drink and clinking it with Clint's on the table.

“You’re drunk,” Clint laughs.

“Not enough to not know what what I’m saying. I love you.” She repeats.

“You’re serious.” Clint deadpans and laughs. “You’re serious.”

Natasha stretches out on the lounger, “as a heart attack.” She replies.

“I love you too, Nat.” Clint holds out his hand to grab hers and she grabs it, miss reading his intention and kisses the back of his hand.

4/ Konstantine

I can't imagine all the people that you know

And the places that you go

When the lights are turned down low

And I don't understand

All the things you've seen

But I'm slipping in between

You and your big dreams

It's always you in my big dreams

Natasha’s twitchy all day.

And the next.

It sets Clint on edge.

He tries to leave her to her coping. Whatever has triggered her this time isn’t bad (it’s not great), it’s not set off her ptsd (that he can tell) but it is frustrating (him).

She doesn’t stop moving, she doesn’t sleep and she’s more short tempered than usual. He forgot to take out the washing and she all but bit his head off.

He tries to stay away from her, spending more time in the gym, goes food shopping and the hides with Maria in her office.

By day 3, he’s had enough. Calls her out on it. Asks her what’s wrong and gets his head bitten off. Wrong move apparently.

He’s in the kitchen where he finds the writing pad where they write shopping lists, notes and messages to each other. There’s ashes in the sink next to it, a tell tale sign Natasha has burnt whatever her brain has been thinking. He shouldn’t. He wants to know. Any insight is better than not knowing.

He takes a pencil from the drawer and rubs it over the top of the paper. He feels more detective like than he’s felt in ages. She hasn’t hidden what she wrote well. But, he supposes, she didn’t expect him to be snooping.

There’s four sentences, written in her small neat handwriting. Each one drops him harder than the last.

I don’t know what’s wrong, I try and sleep and my dreams are..

He’s going to leave.

This is an exercise in futility

What’s wrong with me?

He covers his tracks, ripping the paper up and depositing it in bins around the apartment and goes in search of her.

She’s at the gym, sweating through whatever is going on. Acknowledging him with a nod she continues. He waits til she’s done and when she’s finally finished half an hour later, she turns.

He stands and goes over to her, and hugs her. Holds tight when she tries to pull away. Continues to hold it til he feels her melt into him. He tries to convey everything into it and squeezes tighter when she finally wraps her arms around him.

5 / work song

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

They’re in the hospital laying in beds side by side.

Clint wakes first, panicking she’s not next to him.

Setting off all the alarms, he falls out of bed and pulls himself over to her, pushes her across and lays next to her.

Safe at last.

______________________________________

1/ St Ides - Macklemore and Ryan Lewis

2/ Toy Soldiers - Eminem

3/ Are you with me - Lost Frequencies

4/ Konstantine - Something Corporate

5/ Work Song - Hozier

[spaceskam]

what's it gonna be? (1/3)

Summary: Max likes Alex, Michael likes Liz, and they are determined to be each other's wingman. Which would be a lot more successful if they didn't fall for their brother's crush.

| next

ao3

Michael Guerin quite liked everything that was Liz Ortecho.

She was smart, pretty, and nice. Maybe his standards were beyond low, but she still fit them all and really that’s all that mattered. The problem was she really didn't give him the time of day. She didn’t really give him much attention when he tried to speak to her and it left him not knowing how.

His eyes followed her as she held a tray above her head, twisting skillfully as she made her way towards the table of her friends. She sat down with a proud smile as her friends just took their respective meals. When he reluctantly looked away, he found Max staring at the same table. Michael furrowed his eyebrows.

“Were you staring at Liz’s ass?” Michael asked blatantly. Max snapped his eyes to Michael, face flushed a deep red.

“No,” he insisted. Michael was more than a little doubtful. Max sank into the booth. “I wasn’t!”

“Well, don’t say it like that, she’s not ugly,” Michael said. Max looked at him with wide eyes again.

“I didn’t say she was.”

“Okay, shut up, we don’t argue about girls or boys at this table,” Isobel said firmly, a motherly tone in her voice, “We only talk about important things.”

“Like what? The fact that I know you failed your math test and didn’t ask me for help?” Michael asked. Isobel glared at him and he offered a smile. Eventually, though, his eyes drifted back to Liz again.

She was laughing, glowing in the fluorescent lights of the Crashdown. She looked fucking gorgeous. It was completely and utterly unfair.

As she got up to get back to work, his eyes followed her again. He wanted to go up to her, ask her out, get to know her as more than just the girl who could outsmart him during every single test without fail. It was hard to even imagine what he would say to her, though. His mind always went blank. It wasn’t even like he was bad at talking to girls or anything, there was just something about her that made approaching her specifically an extremely difficult operation.

“I’m gonna do it,” he decided, “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

He stood up before Isobel and Max could change his mind or make him nervous, making his way to where she was now back behind the counter.

“Liz?”

When she moved to face him, the world seemed to slow down entirely. Her wavy ponytail swung as she turned her head, her face looking ridiculously picturesque. She was almost too pretty to be real, seeming far more fitting to be the cover of a magazine. Dark hair, big dark eyes, nice lips, nice figure. Her genetics had done wonders and he was always stunned by her, well, everything. She was perfect.

And he was Michael.

“Oh, hey, Michael,” Liz said, smiling wide and inviting. He blinked dumbly. When did she learn his name? “You need anything?”

Just ask her out, he told himself. It wasn’t hard. All he had to do was ask if she wanted to get dinner sometime. That was it. Simple as that. What was the worst that could happen?

“Coke?” he said lamely instead. She gave a little laugh, nodding her head. The antenna on her head bobbed and she grabbed a fresh cup, spinning around to fix him a drink. She handed it over with a pretty smile and he felt like his brain short-circuited all over again.

“It’s on the house,” she said, “Anything else?”

“No,” he said, wanting to hit himself when he realized he’d again ruined his chances, “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Michael lamely made his way back to the table, ignoring the expectant eyes of Isobel and Max. He just tried not to seem too annoyed as he took his straw out of his half full drink and put it in the new, completely full one.

“Well, did it work?” Max asked.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Isobel snorted a laugh and Michael just did his best to ignore her as well as keep his eyes to himself. Staring at Liz wasn’t going to do anything. He just needed to do something that made it easier to talk to her.

Back to the drawing board.

-

Alex Manes was a goddamn gift.

Max bit his bottom lip so hard it nearly bled as he watched Alex in gym class. His gym clothes of choice were black sweats and a black t-shirt, not too unlike his normal clothes, and he was walking around the basketball court with Liz and Maria. He looked gorgeous, eyes lined with makeup and hair long and pulled back into a low, messy bun. Max didn’t have the right words to express how badly he wanted to speak to him.

The problem was that Alex Manes was far too cool to speak to. He’d gotten in two fights so far this year, both of which he’d won, and most guys in school stayed away from him for one reason or another. There were rumors that he was gay and Max had a feeling that was where the fights came from, but it didn’t bother Max if he was. In fact, he hoped that he was. It would take away at least some of his anxieties about it.

“Evans!” Coach called and Max was reluctant to listen. It was hard to watch Alex whenever he had to focus on the ball.

Still, he joined in the game of basketball and tried not to get distracted. It almost worked, actually, but all of his senses failed whenever Alex tilted his head back in a laugh. It was gorgeous and rare and Max was so completely and utterly fond. Why didn’t he do that more often?

Of course, that was when he missed that he was being passed the ball and suddenly he took a ball straight to the stomach.

Max doubled over and then fell to his knees as the wind was knocked out of him, desperately gasping for breath as Coach ran over to make sure he was okay. He did his best to focus on breathing and not checking to see if Alex had seen him make a fool of himself. That was more embarrassment than he could actually handle.

“You alright, Evans?” Coach asked. He nodded, slowly pushing himself up as he caught his breath. His stomach was sore and his lungs ached a little, but he was fine. “Alright, go sit down until you’re good enough to play.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said, nearly wheezing. He winced and Coach fixed him with a look, so he just went and took a seat back on the bleachers.

Alex and his friends passed him at that moment and Max thought about joining them, but that would be too weird.

“Max, you okay?” Maria asked, though. It meant Alex slowed to a stop in front of him as well and he wasn’t about to be embarrassed. Max had seen Alex get his head slammed into a bathroom stall and be completely unfazed, totally fine enough to hit the other guy hard enough that his mouth bled. Max couldn’t seem weak.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said. Maria gave a smile and nodded.

“I have an extra water bottle if you need it,” she offered. He shook his head, his eyes not-so-subtly looking at Alex to make sure he didn’t think he was lame. He didn’t seem to have any reaction at all as he stood there, but Alex had a blank face most of the time. Max took it as a good thing.

“No, no, I’m fine, thank you though,” he said. She smiled and they went back to walking around the court.

Max watched them walk away, his eyes on Alex Manes. He was so, so gorgeous and he didn’t even know it. How could he? Everyone was so mean to Alex, Max was sure no one told him how great he was enough. Sure, Max didn’t know much about him other than the fact that he looked great, but still. He was sure he was great.

He wanted to get to know him, to ask him out, to find out what made him Alex. That was just much easier said than done. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Alex was actually gay or if that was just a rumor. Asking him out without knowing for sure might just make him angry. He needed a better way to find out.

He just needed to think.

-

“Can you believe this is our last Homecoming dance?”

Michael didn’t say that he was glad it was the last. He hated dances and yet he’d let Isobel drag him to every single one since middle school. Every single dance she’d had two dates in Max and Michael no matter how unenthused they were about the whole thing. But they had never been ones to tell Isobel no when what she wanted was so easy to provide.

“I think I’m going to ask someone to be my date this year,” Max said out loud from his place on Isobel’s bed. It got both Isobel and Michael’s attention, both looking over at him with wide eyes. “I don’t want to have every single dance I go to be with my sister.”

“Well, excuse you,” Isobel scoffed.

“Not like that, Iz,” he sighed, sitting up. Michael stayed in his spot on Isobel's beanbag, fiddling with the loose string on his shirt. "There's just someone I really wanna ask."

Michael bit down on his lip and wondered if he should make it worse by saying there was someone he wanted to ask as well. He looked between Isobel and Max and tried to guage the situation.

"Who?" Isobel prodded, "I thought only Michael was being stupid."

"How is liking someone stupid?" Michael asked. She thought about it for a second, clearly trying to come to some conclusion that would be viable. Both Michael and Max waited until she came up with nothing.

"It just is," she said, "It's a waste of time."

"I don't know, I think it'd be nice to have someone," Max said. Michael nodded.

"Yeah," he sighed, trying to rip the string and only pulling it out more, "If I could only figure out how to talk to Liz."

"Same, but Alex," Max groaned, falling back in bed. Michael raised an eyebrow.

"Alex? Really?" Michael asked.

"You like the bad boy type or something and didn't tell us?" Isobel wondered, walking closer and sitting on the edge of the bed. Michael brought the string of his shirt into his mouth to bite it off, trying to see in what world Max would like Alex.

"He's so hot," Max stated, "But I have no idea how to approach him without risking pissing him off."

"Get Michael to approach him to ask if he'd like you, he's kind of a bad boy too," Isobel suggested.

Michael spat out the string, "I am not a bad boy."

"Close enough," Isobel said, "Besides, if you both are going to act like it's hard to talk to people, might as well use a wingman."

"It's not that easy, Izzy," Michael said. She raised an eyebrow.

"Why not? Max gets to know Liz so you know what to say to her when you go up to her, you get to know Alex so he knows what to say when he approaches him. Or do I need to do everything?" Isobel said, sighing dramatically. Michael considered her words and looked to Max who was already looking at him.

"Would you be down to talk to Liz for me?" Michael asked.

"Are you gonna be okay talking to Alex? 'Cause I can understand thinking he's scary," Max said. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Who, Alex? He's not scary, he just wears a lot of black and pouts a lot," Michael insisted, "Besides, he's friends with Liz and Maria. They wouldn't hang out with him if he was scary."

"So we're all set and we don't have to talk about this shit anymore?" Isobel asked hopefully.

"Well, wait, you're not gonna, like, fall for my girl or anything, are you?" Michael checked. Max rolled his eyes.

"I should be the one asking you that," Max said. Michael scrunched up his nose.

"Alex isn't my type."

"And Liz isn't mine."

"So, deal?"

"Deal."

"Fucking finally," Isobel huffed, pushing herself to her feet, "I'll try not to be angry at you both for ditching me in favor of being thankful this conversation is over."

"You're just jealous, Izzy," Max laughed. Isobel scoffed.

"Jealous of what? I could get anyone in that damn school if I wanted," she said, looking at herself in the mirror hung on her closet door, "I'm just too good for all of them."

"Sure," Michael laughed, looking back to Max, "You gonna start talking to her tomorrow?"

"Yeah and you start on Alex tomorrow and we'll fill each other in on what we find out in, like, a week. Sound good?" Max said. Michael nodded, biting down on his lip as he realized he might actually have a date with Liz by next week.

This was going to be perfect.

"Cool."

[prouvaireafterdark]

Our Heaven's Worth the Waiting

Here’s my take on @pastelwitchling‘s prompt! I also mixed in an anonymous prompt I got for Max and Michael talking about his feelings for Alex ‘cause it fit really well. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I didn't write Michael's poem in this fic, the credit for that goes entirely to Vlamis himself.

Also, while I wouldn't consider this fic anti-Maria, Alex is a little petty and there's a blink-and-you-miss-it reference to 2x06, which did not happen in the universe of this fic, so make of that what you will.

Also on AO3!

***

Max Evans doesn’t know much right now, but he can spot bullshit when he sees it. And this? This is bullshit.

From his and Isobel’s table, he’s watched Michael flirt his way through the evening, leaning hard against the Wild Pony’s bar with a bright smile aimed right at Maria DeLuca. He looks happy, his shoulders a little lighter, until Maria goes to get something from the back and Alex Manes walks into the bar with a hipster on his arm.

If looks could kill, Max is pretty sure this blue-haired guy would be six feet under. It’s probably for the best that he skips the bar and heads for a table near the front of the open mic stand, dropping a kiss on Alex’s cheek before he goes.

Alex talks to Michael briefly and Max clocks the way the airman tries not to let his eyes linger on the wide spread of Michael’s thighs over his barstool while he waits for his drinks.

He doesn’t miss the way Michael digs his right thumb into the black bandana covering his palm when Alex leaves, pressing so hard it has to hurt.

Maria comes out from the back room with a box of straws and that million watt smile reappears, almost like it was never gone in the first place.

“Is he always like this?” Max finds himself asking.

There’s a pause where Isobel follows his line of sight to Michael, now leaning over the bar to help himself to Maria’s whiskey while she takes an order.

Isobel laughs. “God, even without your memories you’re such a fucking cop. Don’t worry, she’ll make him pay for it one way or another.”

Max turns to see an amused smile on her face.

“No, I mean…” he starts, struggling for the right words. “Is he always pretending?”

Isobel frowns and glances back at Michael, her head tilted in confusion.

“Nevermind,” Max shakes his head, taking a sip from his beer. “Maybe I’m imagining it.”

Except he isn’t.

Max watches Michael and Alex dance around each other, trading glances when they think no one’s looking. He watches Michael throw himself at Maria that much harder one night after he and Alex fight, and he watches Michael’s heart break when that blue-haired guy—named Forrest, he’s since discovered—snakes his fingers up the back of Alex’s shirt like he owns him.  

He watches until, one night, he just can’t take it anymore.

“We’re brothers, right?” Max starts, leaning against a cabinet full of complicated medical equipment.

“Uh, yeah, man,” Michael gives him a weird look.

“We talk to each other about things then?” Max presses.

Michael laughs. “Not really.”

“Hm.” Max isn’t quite sure how his past self fucked that up, but he’s hoping he’ll be able to fix it. “Well, can we? ‘Cause there’s something I don’t really understand.”

Michael shrugs and turns back to his equipment. “Okay, shoot.”

Max takes a deep breath and decides to just go for it. “Why are you with Maria when you’re clearly in love with Alex?”

Michael freezes for so long that Max thinks he broke him for a second. “Are you fucking with me right now?” he asks at last, brow drawn tight with something that looks a little like betrayal. “Do you have your memories back?”

“Um, no,” Max says regretfully. “But I do have eyes.”

Michael sighs heavily and tosses the pipette he was holding onto the table, placing his hands flat against the surface. His head hangs between his shoulders, but he doesn’t say anything.

Max waits patiently.

“I don’t—“ Michael starts, but cuts himself off like he just can’t get the words out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You wouldn’t even know your own name if we hadn’t told you.”

Max’s mouth twists unhappily at the deflection. “Okay, but—“

“Leave it alone, Max,” Michael interrupts, a little desperately. “I’m with Maria. I like Maria. Isn’t that enough?”

The door to the secret lab opens before Max can respond.

“Hope you boys are hungry!” Liz calls as she walks over the threshold, arms laden with takeout bags from the Crashdown. Her thick, dark hair is tossed over one shoulder, and her lipstick is a distracting shade of red. “There was a mix-up with an order at the diner and I have a truly absurd amount of fries.”

Max smiles at her, stunned into silence just long enough for Michael to weasel his way of their conversation.

A week later, Max remembers who he is.

He also remembers his brother’s a goddamn idiot, and Max is determined to save him from himself.

“You want me to what?” Michael asks him, pushing himself out from under the car he’s working on to give Max an incredulous look.

“Well, you can’t exactly see a therapist,” Max says, a little defensively.

“So you want me to write a poem about my feelings?”

Max rolls his eyes at the disbelief dripping from Michael’s voice.

“It works, okay?” Max says. Michael keeps staring at him. “If writing something honest about what you’re feeling will make you breathe a little easier, why not give it a try?”

Michael stands up, dusting his hands off on his jeans as he stalks off toward the bench his mid-afternoon beer is sitting on. He takes a long pull from the bottle instead of giving him an answer.

“Michael,” Max sighs.

“Why won’t you drop this?” he asks, rounding on Max.

“Because I love you, and I want you to be happy,” Max says, amazed and a little offended that that needs an explanation.

“Maria makes me happy,” Michael protests.

“Does she?” Max asks, taking a step closer. “Or does she just distract you from the things you’d rather not think about?”

Michael glares at him.

“Look, do it or don’t,” Max says, laying a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “But you’re gonna have to deal with this eventually, and for your sake I hope it’s not too late when you do.”

When he turns to leave, Michael doesn’t stop him.

This is stupid, Michael thinks, laying on his bed with a notebook open on his chest. Max is stupid and I’m stupid for listening to him.

With a sigh, Michael rolls over and closes his eyes, shoving his face in his pillow. It smells faintly of Maria’s perfume, but his mind inevitably drifts to Alex, to that morning when he woke up to Alex kissing his chest and Michael forgot he lived in a world where he wasn’t allowed to have nice things.

It’s ridiculous. Ten fucking years, and he’s still reeling from Alex Manes.

Michael reaches for his notebook. Once he starts writing, the words flow out of him.

The fire crackles in front of him, a folded up piece of paper tight in his grip. He tries to make himself put it in the flames, but his fingers won’t obey him. What will be left, he wonders, if he burns away the part of him that loves Alex Manes?

His phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s a text from Maria.

Can I come over? I need you tonight.

Michael’s mouth twists as his finger wipes over the screen. Max might think Maria’s just a distraction, but she’s—it’s more than that. After losing Alex, losing his mom, losing Max… she’s the only person who doesn’t make him feel useless. That’s gotta count for something, right?

But he won’t fuck her in the bed that makes him think of Alex. Not tonight.

I’ll come to you, he types back, standing up from his seat in front of the fire. He puts it out and slips the folded piece of paper into the back pocket of his jeans before heading to his truck.

He can be good for Maria, and that’s enough. It has to be.

Michael wakes up the next morning alone in Maria’s bed. He picks his clothes up off the floor, tugging them on roughly. It’s not until he puts his phone in his back pocket that he notices it’s empty.

His head whips back and forth, scanning the floor for any trace of that piece of paper. He looks everywhere, even under the bed.

Nothing.

With a nervous swallow, he leaves the bedroom and walks down the hall toward the kitchen. He sees Maria sitting at her kitchen table with a mug of coffee and a bottle of Jack. He tries to keep the panic out of his voice when he asks, “Hey, have you seen—“

The words die in his throat when Maria fixes him with a red-rimmed glare. It’s then he notices the unfolded piece of notebook paper in front of her.

Michael’s stomach turns to lead, an intensely violated feeling creeping under his skin. She wasn’t supposed to read that. No one was supposed to read that.

“Look, I can explain,” he tries, but she scoffs at him.

“Fuck you, Guerin,” she says, crumpling the paper and throwing it at him. It bounces off his chest and lands on the floor.

Michael leans down to scoop the ball of paper up off the terra cotta tile, shoving it deep in his pocket before he takes a step closer to her.

“Maria, it’s not—“

“Have you been fucking him behind my back this whole time?” she interrupts, looking up at him.

“What? No, Maria, come on,” Michael says, bristling at the accusation. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I would never do that.”

“Oh, okay,” she says, but he can tell from her tone she’s still furious. “So you won’t actually fuck my best friend, just write romantic poetry about him. Got it.”

Michael doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t think there’s anything he can say to that. He stands there, eyes on his boots, hands on his hips.

“When did you write it?” she asks a moment later, her poorly-constructed veneer of calm failing to mask the storm of rage and hurt he can see swirling behind her eyes when he meets her gaze again.

“What does it matter? I was just going to throw it out—“

“When?” she asks again.

He sighs, defeated, and looks at the ceiling when he admits, “Last night.”

It’s deadly quiet while Maria processes that bombshell.

“Get out,” she says at last, her voice cold and angry.

“Maria, I’m so—“

“Get out!” she screams suddenly, startling him. “Get out, Guerin! God, I can’t believe I thought you actually cared about me, I’m so fucking stupid.”

“I do care about you!”

“Not like you care about Alex, though, right? I mean, Jesus, Guerin. ‘Ten years and my heart’s still reeling’?”

“Please don’t,” Michael begs, unable to bear hearing his own words thrown back in his face.

“How the fuck can I compete with that?” she demands. “Why even let me try?”

“It’s not a competition,” he says.

Maria laughs harshly.

“It’s not, okay?” he insists. “I like you.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she says, her tears beginning to fall. “But you don’t love me.”

She lets that hang in the air between them, as if waiting for Michael to deny it. He doesn’t. He can’t.

“Get the fuck out of my house, Guerin,” she says, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“Maria,” he pleads, though for what he isn’t sure.

“Now,” she says. “And find somewhere else to drown your sorrows. You’re not welcome at the Pony anymore.”

Michael leaves without another word.

Max is only slightly surprised when he comes home to find Michael on his couch, head in his hands with his cowboy hat and a bottle of bourbon on the coffee table in front of him. He hangs his own hat on the hook by the door and slowly walks over to his brother.

“Michael?” he asks softly.

“I fucked up, Max,” he says, voice thick with emotion. His eyes stay fixed on the floor between his feet.

“Is this about Maria?” he asks as delicately as he can. “Liz told me you two had a fight,” he adds, which is really putting it mildly. He wasn’t privy to all the gory details, but he’d heard enough.

Michael shakes his head and laughs, but it comes out more like a sob.

“It probably should be, but no.”

“Ah,” Max nods in understanding as he carefully sits down beside him. “It’s about Alex.”

Michael reaches for the open bottle of bourbon on the coffee table. He takes a long pull before he answers.

“Yeah,” he sniffs. “God, I’m such an asshole. I broke her heart and all I can think about is Alex. Why is it always about Alex?”

“He’s your Liz,” Max explains, bumping Michael’s shoulder with his own. “You love him.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Maybe,” Max says, “but that’s not how love works.”

“You some kind of expert?” Michael turns to look at him, his eyes wet.

“Hey, you’re not the only alien around here with an advanced degree in pining,” he jokes, but Michael just sighs heavily and tips backward into the couch cushions to stare at the ceiling.

“I’ve wasted so much time,” he says, mournfully. Max watches a thick tear roll from the corner of his eye into his ear. “I think… I think it might be too late.”

“You won’t know until you talk to him.”

“I can’t do that,” he protests. “He’s with someone now.”

“Well, how long are you willing to wait for him?”

Michael takes a deep breath before he answers, “As long as it takes.”

“Then tell him that,” Max says.

Michael looks unconvinced.

“Just take it one step at a time, okay?” Max says. “When you’re ready, tell him how you feel.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Easy? Hell no,” Max says with a sympathetic smile. “But the best things never are.”

The sun is setting low in the sky when Alex pulls up to Michael’s Airstream, summoned by an enigmatic text from the alien asking him to meet. Given that barely anyone has seen Michael in almost two weeks, Alex feels justified in his relief to see Michael sitting in a lawn chair in front of his fire pit.

“There you are,” Alex comments as he approaches. Michael smiles at him. “You know, next time you decide to drop off the face of the Earth, a heads up would be nice.”

“What, you miss me?” Michael asks, flashing him that cocky grin. Alex has to fight not to blush. Truth be told, if he wasn’t getting regular updates from Max of all people that Michael was okay, Alex would’ve tracked him down himself.

“Maybe,” Alex shrugs, giving him a smile of his own as he takes a seat next to him. “What were you up to?”

“This and that,” Michael says. “Fixed some cars, did some research, went on a road trip for a couple days…”

“Oh?” Alex asks. “Where to?”

“Santa Fe.”

Alex laughs. “That’s not very far.”

“Didn’t want to be too far,” Michael explains. “In case something happened, you know? I just needed to get away for a while. Clear my head.”

“Did it work?” Alex asks.

Michael licks his bottom lip before he nods. “Yeah, it did.”

“Good,” Alex smiles. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” he replies.

There’s a lull in the conversation while Michael goes to get another log for the fire. Alex watches him, really lets himself look. His unruly curls have gotten brighter from exposure to the sun, and his clothes—unstained, for once—fit his lean frame nicely. He looks good. Really good.

Alex is about to ask him why he’s here when Michael settles back in his seat and speaks again.

“So how’s, um, how’s Forrest?” Michael asks hesitantly, like he really doesn’t want to know.

Alex winces at the question. “Not great, probably.”

“Probably?” Michael asks.

“I broke up with him,” Alex admits.

“Oh, really?” Michael leans forward in interest. “When?”

“About a week ago.”

“What’d he do?”

Alex sighs. “You really want to talk about this?”

Michael shrugs. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Alex takes a deep breath before he says, “He told me he loves me.”

Michael’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. “Um, wow,” he says, and there’s a pause while he processes that.

“Yeah.” Breaking up with Forrest was hard, but it felt kinder than to string him along, knowing he’d never feel the same way.

“I’m guessing the feeling wasn’t mutual?”

Alex chooses his words carefully. “Forrest is one of the nicest guys I know,” he starts. “He’s thoughtful, and funny, and sweet, and he’ll make someone really happy one day, but… that guy isn’t me.”

Alex watches Michael bite his lip before he asks, “Why not?”

The question makes Alex sigh, his gaze dropping to the fire. “Do you really need to ask?”

When he chances a look over at Michael, he sees his eyes are wide with surprise. Alex swallows hard, needing to change the subject. He can’t listen to Michael reject him again. He just can’t.

“So, what was it you wanted to show me?”

“Right,” Michael says. He looks nervous all of a sudden as he reaches into his pocket and takes out a folded piece of paper.

He stares at it in his hand for a minute, as if mentally preparing himself for something. Alex waits as patiently as he can, though his curiosity is piqued.

“I wrote you something,” Michael says at last, running his fingers over the wrinkled, white surface. Alex’s stomach clenches in nervous anticipation. “Well, I wrote me something, about two weeks ago.”

“Does it have anything to do with why you disappeared?” Alex asks, connecting the dots.

“Yeah,” Michael admits. “I’ve been so… mixed up, lately. After everything that happened with my mom, and Max… I did a lot of dumb shit I shouldn’t have, told myself whatever lies I needed to to make things easier. And I hurt people. I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” Alex dismisses. After everything his family has done to Michael’s, Alex considers Michael’s anger his cross to bear.

“It’s really not, Alex,” Michael protests softly, his eyes sad. He takes a deep breath and looks back down to the paper in his hands. “Max pushed me to try writing something honest. He said it would help clear all the bullshit in my head.”

“I take it he was right?”

“Yeah,” Michael nods. “And I think… I think it’s time I shared it with you.”

Michael offers the paper to him. Alex takes it, unfolding it carefully as he braces himself for whatever he’s about to read.

Alex scans the first two lines before he looks up abruptly.

“Michael, what—what is this?”

“Just keep reading,” Michael begs him. “Please.”

Alex swallows and looks back at the page.

a veteran move as you limp into frame

longing to be your crutch, I want to consume your pain

so I loosen my belt, a familiar feeling

ten years later and my heart’s still reeling

then you show up on my porch, floating down the stream

while I swim uphill, running out of steam

lies upon lies, thighs upon thighs

love a woman’s touch, but damn that guy

the one who lifted my heaviest sighs with ease

too much pride to beg; I’ll let my looks say please

so ignore my words, this is where I stand

you’re a pretty little liar, and I’m your man

“Michael,” Alex says, his voice trembling when he finishes reading. “What—What does this mean?“ he asks, desperate for an explanation before he gets the chance to hope.

“It means I love you, Alex,” Michael says, and then the words are spilling out of him, “I thought maybe I could leave this thing between us in the past, but I can’t, and—and I don’t know that I want to anymore. I don’t know that I ever really did.”

Alex is stunned into silence, his heart full and aching all at once with the simple, beautiful truth that Michael loves him. He blinks and Michael is on his knees in front of him, reaching for his hands as he looks up at him with eyes the color of smooth bourbon, fresh tears clinging to his lashes.

“Tell me it’s not too late,” Michael sniffs. “Tell me I haven’t lost you.”

“Of course you haven’t lost me,” Alex says, bringing his hand to Michael’s cheek. “I’m right here.”

“Then stay,” he begs, eyes wide and desperate. “Please. I’m asking you to stay.”

Alex leans forward to kiss him, too overwhelmed to answer with words. He pours everything he’s feeling into it and Michael takes everything he has to give. He makes a wounded sound when Alex pulls away, tries to push back into Alex’s space, but Alex stops him with a gentle hand on his collarbone.

“I’m never leaving you again,” Alex promises, looking Michael right in the eye, needing to see him understand how much he means it. “I love you too, Michael. I love you too.”

Tears finally spill down Michael’s cheeks as Alex kisses him again. Michael pushes his way up off the ground and into Alex’s lap, still attached to him at the lips. Alex’s hands slide down his chest to grip his waist, then his hips, holding him firmly.

The cheap chair groans worryingly under their combined weight, just loud enough for Alex to notice through the rushing of blood in his ears. He feels drunk as he pulls back, Michael’s lips leaving his to press needy kisses down the length of his neck.

“Michael,” Alex says. Michael only groans and bites at his throat. Alex’s eyes rolls back into his skull at the sensation, his hand coming up to weave his fingers through Michael’s hair. “Michael,” he says again, this time tugging his head back by his curls so he’s forced to look at him.

Michael’s eyes are dark, intense as he stares down at Alex’s mouth like he wants to devour him whole.

“As much as I don’t want to move right now, I think this chair is going to break,” Alex pants.

“Take me to bed, then,” Michael whispers, sending shivers down his spine.

“You’re gonna have to get off my lap if you want me to do that,” Alex responds, wishing he could just carry him instead so he wouldn’t have to give up the feeling of Michael’s thighs spread over his lap for a single second.

Michael whines, but kisses him once more before sliding off his lap. Alex grabs his hand and lets Michael lead him inside the Airstream.

Once they’re inside, Michael pushes him gently to sit on the edge of his bed. He climbs right back onto his lap, so close their chests are flush together, like he can’t bear the thought of even an inch of space between them.

Alex certainly isn’t complaining, especially not when Michael reaches back a moment later to pull his shirt off. Alex’s hands are on him instantly, savoring that otherworldly heat simmering under Michael’s skin beneath his fingertips. Michael lets out a shuddering breath against his lips at the touch.

“Off,” Michael murmurs when their kiss breaks long enough for him to get the words out. He tugs on the front of Alex’s flannel. “Take this off.”

He leans back to start on the buttons, but he doesn’t move fast enough for Michael, whose fingers grip his collar and pull, buttons flying in every direction like he’s living some kind of bodice-ripper fantasy. Alex doesn’t even have the time to feel put out about his shirt being ruined, Michael’s hands on his chest chasing every other thought right out of his head.

The next thing he knows, his back is hitting the mattress, Michael’s frame weighing him down, caging him in. He feels Michael’s hard cock against his own and he can’t help but pull Michael down harder against him, fingers digging into his ass.

“Fuck,” Michael gasps, grinding down.

Alex keeps kissing him, losing himself to the heat of Michael’s mouth, the softness of his tongue, the occasional bite of his teeth against his bottom lip. It’s nothing short of heaven, and Alex is sure he never wants to feel anything else for the rest of his life.

“Wanna suck your cock so bad,” Michael whines a moment later when he breaks the kiss, rolling his hips against Alex’s a little harder, “but I feel like I’ll die if I stop kissing you.”

The promise of Michael’s hot, wet mouth on his cock makes him throb in his jeans, but Alex shakes his head.

“Later,” Alex pants. “God, Michael, I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t stop kissing me.”

Michael groans before bringing their lips together again in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth.

“Wait,” Michael gasps when they part again, reaching for his absurdly large belt buckle. He doesn’t bother to take it off, just unbuckles it and gets to work on his jeans.

Alex gets the picture pretty quick. He unbuttons his own jeans and shoves them down his thighs along with his underwear, just far enough to free his aching cock.

Michael licks his palm and takes Alex in hand, hissing when Alex does the same before he leans down to kiss him again, a forearm braced beside Alex’s head to give them just enough space to work. Michael’s cock is hot and hard against his palm, and Alex wishes he could watch the way pre-come leaks from him as he runs his thumb over the sensitive head, spreading the wetness around as he moves.

It’s a heady assault on his senses—the smell of Michael surrounding him, the feel of Michael’s fist tight around his cock, his lips smothering the whimpers Alex can feel in the back of his throat. Alex is coming before he knows it, pleasure twisting hot in his gut as Michael jerks him off fast and rough, just the way he likes it.

When his brain comes back online, Alex uses his own release to slick the way even more as Michael fucks his fist. He barely has the time to say, “Come on, just like that, wanna watch you come,” before Michael is shooting hard against his stomach, gasping against his cheek.

Alex kisses him wherever he can reach as Michael collapses against his chest and trembles through the aftershocks, his clean hand running up and down along his spine.

Michael wakes the next morning to see the love of his life lying on his back next to him, re-reading the poem he wrote about him. He shifts closer to Alex and presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“You’re awake,” Alex says, looking at him with a bright smile.

“You stayed,” Michael says, a fond smile tugging at his mouth.

“Told you,” Alex says, rolling onto his side to face him. “I’m never leaving you again. I’m in this, for real this time.”

Overwhelmed by the confirmation of Alex’s feelings, Michael leans in to press their lips together. The kiss is short and sweet, lasting only a few seconds before Michael pulls back, just to look at him.

“What?” Alex asks, a subtle blush beginning to color his face.

Michael smiles wider. “Nothing,” he says, dropping a kiss on one of his pink cheeks. Alex catches his lips with his own as he pulls back, and Michael is happy to let him.

“This is really good, by the way,” Alex comments when he’s had his fill of kisses for the moment, looking back to the poem. “Forgot to mention that last night.”

“Guess I distracted you, huh,” Michael says, smirking as he eyes the bruise he left on Alex’s neck.

Alex hums in agreement.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” he says, something in his chest loosening at Alex’s approval.

Alex smiles, but Michael can tell there’s something brewing in his head.

“What?” Michael asks, nudging his chin with his nose.

“I’ve gotta ask… is this the reason you and Maria broke up?” Alex asks, waving the paper in his hand. “I heard it was pretty explosive.”

“Yeah,” Michael grimaces. “She found it in my pocket.”

“Hm,” Alex hums, and a look of smug satisfaction graces his face. “Good.”

“Good?” Michael asks, raising an eyebrow.

“She knows you’re mine now,” Alex says as he shifts to lean over him, his right thigh coming to rest between Michael’s own. Michael shivers as Alex leans in to whisper in his ear, “And I don’t share.”

[breathings-of-the-heart]

I feel the most loved from physical affection but I can still feel love from any other forms so Im quite flexible in that area. I feel most comfortable when taking care of others so having an s/o who relies on me would be nice. I have a realistic and down to earth perspective on life & I get excited easily. My hobbies are drawing and cooking/baking :) Thank you so much and sorry if it was too much info

Thank you so much for your request, lovely! From everything you’ve told me about your wonderful self, I ship you with...

...Eren Jeager!

~ Getting to know him ~

Eren’s love for you definitely took him by surprise; snuck up on him when he wasn’t paying attention. After all, you weren’t the flashy type who would go out of their way to impress other people for the sake of being the center of attention. But it was that laid-back, kind, reliable nature that drew him in like a warm embrace-- the type Eren couldn’t shake. 

I imagine you being a talented medic in training for the Survey Corps, the strong desire to help people bringing you to the place that needed it most. Most post-expedition days were stressful and the infirmaries were always understaffed, with innumerable amounts of casualties to make your days dimmer. Your resilience was always unwavering when it came to this, however, and you became known to all for having those soft eyes and smiles. Soldiers always felt more comfortable around your soothing presence, taking your hand in theirs whilst you treated their wounds to the very best of your ability. 

The first time you met Eren was when the scouts earned custody over him, and Levi Squad took over in assessing his capabilities. Although the male had regenerative powers, your job was to make sure he was alright after titan experiments and observe the extents of his endurance. This was what you were briefed on... 

...but none of it prepared you for seeing young male in front of you: his blue-green ocean eyes forever etched into your daydreams. 

Eren’s first impression of you was refreshing, and, to be brutally honest, relieving. Most people tip-toed around him in fear, reluctance, or hesitation because of what he was. The first time he transformed in front of everyone, trying to reach the teaspoon that fell on the ground, you proved to be someone set apart from other scouts. Seeing the fear and confusion on his face told you everything you needed to know; it was heart-warming to see a someone he barely knew stick up for him the way you did: waving off Levi squad as they drew their swords in hostility. 

“Guys, calm down, please. Eren knows just as much about this as we do. So just-- back off, alright? Screaming isn’t going to make anything better.” 

You turned around to look him in the eyes and he instantly felt safer.

And from that day on it was pretty easy for him to trust you. 

Naturally, with the amount of time you spent together, the two of you became close pretty quickly. Your down-to-earth personality kept his fiery passion grounded; you balanced each other out. Every day while you did your check-ups Eren would tell you anything and everything: from events throughout his day and what his life was like before the fall of Wall Maria, to what his goals for the future. And every day without fail, he’d leave the infirmary with a cute doodle tattooed on some part of his arm that he wore with pride.  

It was an unlikely friendship, but one Eren greatly valued: he’d do almost anything for the people he cared about, and now, that included his friendly, sweet, personal nurse.

No matter how used to each other you got, though, examining a shirtless Eren for bruises and marks never failed to make you blush. 

~Your first kiss~

There were times when the experiments became more and more difficult for Eren, especially when practicing hardening his titan skin. He rarely showed it, but you knew him well enough at this point to see he was having a hard time. And because of that selfless nature, you took it upon yourself to make him feel better. 

“Eren, wake up,” you whispered one day, shaking the brunette gently. 

His eyelids fluttered open at the sound of your voice, pulling him out of sleep as the orange sunlight of the early morning filtered into his room. 

“What is it? Are you alright?” He had asked as he sat up, the question making your heart swell.  

“Yes, I am alright. But look, I made something for you.” 

Eren’s eyes dragged across your figure, appreciating the familiarity of this person he’d grown quite close to. Your messy bedhead was endearing, almost as much so as the proud smile adorning your face. 

A tray laid out in front of you, a steaming batch of pastries neatly placed on top. Each was decorated with an immense amount of detail and care, beautifully shaped and frosted. They were vibrant and delicate, appearing to have taken hours to make, each topped with fresh fruit and dusted with powdered sugar. The mouth-watering smell woke him up even more as he looked from them back to you. You must have spent all night making these for him. 

“I know you’ve been working extra hard recently...” your voice trailed off in sudden timidness. “...so I just wanted to start your day off with a little something to, hopefully, I don’t know, make it better.” 

Eren was standing up now, taking the tray from you and placing it on the bedside table as his heart constricted. The gesture struck him more than he’d expected, and caught him off guard: no one had done anything like this for him before. 

As he gazed at your features and tried to decode the strange feeling in his chest, a breeze swept through the open window and brushed the strands of hair past your face. They danced like ribbons before settling and a sudden rush of fondness Eren like a slap until all he could look at was your lips. 

“You don’t want to try them?” you asked disappointedly, taking his silence as in-amusement.

In a daring moment of boldness, Eren grabbed you by the hips and pulled you close to him, claiming your lips in a kiss. 

"I don't know what I’d do without you,” he murmured.

~ Being in a relationship ~

It was no secret that Eren had a lot on his plate; as much as he wanted to spend more romantic time with you, he shouldered a lot of responsibility. He was lucky that you understood this, and thankful that you were the one to patch him up and remain by his side throughout it all. 

There are a lot of little things he does that shows you he loves you: we all know the boy is not the best with words, after all. Things like draping his cloak around your shoulders, asking if you’d eaten today, brushing your hair behind your ears, or rubbing your shoulders when you’re stressed. 

Although he doesn’t admit it too often, he relies on you a lot. Eren has lost so much in his life and was motivated by hatred and anger before he met you, so naturally his priorities changed to revolve around a future where the both of you can live together in freedom. 

Believe it or not, Eren loves to cuddle. At the end of the day he just wants to forget the world and have you in his arms as you whisper sweet nothings in his ear. He loves being the big spoon, but there are moments you can tell he just needs to be held. (To which, you gladly oblige) 

Eren absolutely adores when you play with his hair. He will complain if you don’t do it for long enough, and pull your hand back if he is not satisfied. Sometimes you pull away just to tease him. 

He is also very protective. He will pull you closer anytime another male stares at you for too long and isn’t afraid to start fights. (Obviously. This is Eren we’re talking about.)  

PDA isn’t really his thing, but before doing anything dangerous, giving you forehead kisses is a must. 

You always write “I love you” on Eren’s forearm before any mission, and ask him what he wants you to draw next to it. His requests range from “chibi titan” to “big-ass trees” to “whatever your heart desires”

~ End ~

I hope you like it! I’d love to hear back from you on your opinion, so feel free to let me know how you felt about your pairing. Thank you again for the ask, and stay safe/healthy cutie <3

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 18

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Read Chapters 1-17 and more HERE

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump

CW: Gore, food gore, captivity, swearing.

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

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: DINNER IS SERVED

        Perhaps the floor wouldn’t have felt so rough- Perhaps the air would have felt less dry- Perhaps the bars wouldn’t have been staring back at Arch so mockingly- if…

        If they hadn’t practically waltzed into their own prison. Perhaps it would have felt less humbling to be there if they had tried to fight back just a little bit. But it was impossible to do. It was like Paimon had every little one of their muscles at his beck and call. The thought of it made Arch sick to their stomach. They were disgusted with him- with themselves for being too weak to oppose his whims.

        Arch stood in their cell, back to the door as they heard the clanging shut. They felt themselves released from the hold Paimon had and immediately they turned to charge the bars.

         “Let me out you wretched animal!” they noted the distinct change in the way they insulted him. Usually the go-to word was bastard or jackass. Lyrem had really rubbed off on them more than they realized.

         Paimon tilted his head and placed his keys within his robe. Its green silken sheen seemed drastically out of place for a cavern full of tortured souls.

         “That’s no way to speak to your employer.” He wagged a single finger. “Consider this a verbal warning.”

         “Fuck you,” Arch spit. Their hazel eyes still brought a fire of life to their words- all of it burning with the hatred of a thousand suns.

         Paimon raised his eyebrows and moved on.

         That had been… probably hours ago… maybe twelve? Arch had passed out against the cave wall for a while and when they had awoken, nothing had changed. Not a shadow moved along the corridor, and not a single discernable word echoed through to them. They heard screams, whimpers, and cries from men, women, and sometimes even the sounds of young children.

        Their knees hugged up to their chin and they settled their cheeks into the crevasse they created there, allowing their tears to be soaked into the light purple chiffon and satin. And their feet, their poor feet ached. They didn’t know how long it would take the soles to heal, but Arch wasn’t betting that Paimon would be bringing them shoes any time soon- not after their last encounter… And there was no way in hell they’d ask for any.

        The thought was tremendously tempting though.

        The sound of clacking hooves against the ground forced Arch to wipe their tears away, determined to maintain their composure. Soon enough, Paimon appeared at their cell door with a glass of water in their hand.

        Arch didn’t move an inch, but they shifted their eyes up, glaringly.

        Paimon sipped on the glass silently, paying them no attention- refusing them the honour. As though he had planned the moment carefully, Arch found themselves swallowing, and suddenly becoming parched. None of their usual bodily functions seemed to be operating before now.

        It was like Lyrem’s back room- Jess, Kyle, and Marcus never used a bathroom, never ate, never drank any water, and never died from it- even though the time Kyle and Marcus had spent back there without any form of sustenance would have been enough to kill a person. Places like Paimon’s home- places like the back room, were odd exceptions to this rule of human functioning.

        Arch breathed heavily, though they tried their best not to show it.

        “How long do you think it’s been?” Paimon asked, swirling the clear liquid in his hand.

        “What?” Arch’s voice cracked. “I don’t know.”

        “Guess.”

        They rolled their eyes and threw out a higher number than they would have regularly guessed.

        “Seventeen hours.”

        Paimon looked over to them in mild shock. “Close… Eighteen.”

        “Why does it matter?” Arch raised a skeptical brow. They found their eyes lingering on the water glass more than they would have liked.

        “Because I have always been fascinated by the perception of time,” he admitted.

        Arch blinked, and wiped a hand against their face.

        “When can I see Lyrem again?”

        “You won’t be seeing Lyrem for a very long time,” Paimon replied.

        Arch fell contemplatively silent.

        “You see? Perception,” he added, patronizingly. He emptied the glass and it vanished out of his hand as though it had never been there at all. “It’s fascinating. Guess how long it’s been on Earth.”

        Their eyes focused on the rocky floor. They had no choice but to obey.

        “I don’t know,” they answered, honestly.

        “About ten minutes,” Paimon replied. He stared down at them with shining eyes. He turned around, his hooves clacking against the ground as Arch heard his words echo back. “Fascinating, I think.”

        Arch was left alone again, with nothing but a bleak reminder that Paimon was more of an asshole than he ever let on as he had known them on Earth. Arch was still thirsty; and now they knew it was only because Paimon wanted them to be. What felt like many hours, had passed by again. At the knowledge of time being meaningless here, Arch didn’t bother to try and keep track of the minutes. They closed their eyes against the most comfortable of notches in the wall and allowed whatever time to flow, to flow as freely as it willed as they tried to sleep it off.

        Their head lifted up from the wall with a sudden jolt as they heard a rumbling noise. The ground wasn’t moving like it had before, and then Arch heard the rumble again. They looked down, and grew annoyed when the sound originated from their stomach, carrying with it some small pangs of hunger.

        A pressure in their forehead, made them wish to close their eyes again- and they also wished to have something soft… a pillow, a bed… a blanket-

        NO.

        Arch couldn’t afford to think like that. This was the game Paimon wanted them to play. He wanted them to bargain with him. He wanted them to ask for shoes and pillows and water and food. They would stretch their legs, sit back down and try to get some rest again instead of entertaining the notion for even a second that they would give in to a single one of their basic needs.

        From far off down the tunnel, there was a wheel squeaking. It grew louder, and then outside the cell, Arch saw the shining silver rolling tray stop to park. Paimon wasn’t far behind it. There were two dinner settings, covered with their own silver warming bowls. Paimon lifted one of them off, and immediately the scent of a salt and pepper steak, roasted potatoes and mushrooms filled the air. Arch couldn’t help it; their mouth began to water the moment it was uncovered.

        “Hungry?” Paimon asked with a slightly playful note in his voice.

        “No,” Arch lied.

        “Tell the truth.”

        “Yes.”

        “Hm. Well, I have some good news for you, Arch. You and I will be enjoying a lovely dinner together.”

        Paimon unlocked the cell door.

        “Stay,” he commanded and Arch stayed, as if they had any other choice. “Good pup.”

        He lifted one of the covered dishes and handed it to Arch as they stood warily in the corner of their small prison. Paimon returned for a knife and fork and set down a glass of water on the ground before locked the cell again.

        Behind him, a simple stick chair materialized out of the ground below and he sat down in it, using the rolling tray as his table.

        “Go ahead. Eat.”

        Arch heard the command and sat cross legged on the ground, setting their plate in front of them.

        Lifting off the silver warmer, it was soon clear that Paimon had not come to bring them any desirable meal. The dark red liquid ran along the sides of the plate and smelled much worse than the steak did.

        That was because their main course was a raw human heart about the size of their fist.

        Arch gagged at the sight, letting the silver clang noisily to the ground. They were going to be sick- any second now-

        “Eat,” Paimon knew he didn’t need to repeat the command, he was just growing impatient and placed a linen napkin over his lap.

        Shaking and pale, Arch lifted the knife and fork. Sticking it into the left atrium, they heard and felt the sickening pop as the fork broke through. Then, the knife slowly sawed away at a small piece. Arch gagged again before lifting the forkful to their mouth and wished they had a clothespin to stop the heavy scent of blood from rushing into their sinuses. It was warm on their tongue. It was probably fresh.

        It was also rubbery. Hard to chew. Tasted… a little bit too much like metal and vaguely musty with a hint of… was that canola oil? Creamed corn? They shut their eyes tight. Hoping they could just imagine away the uncooked organ as some raw beef. They served that in France, didn’t they? The chewing took the longest time. With each bite down, Arch tried to ignore the rubber band sensation, but it was much harder to ignore the heavy taste of blood and the recurring thought that it had just been inside of someone’s chest.

        They finally choked it down with a hard swallow as Paimon watched on with a smile. Arch shuffled to the side to pick up their water glass and drank it greedily as a stray tear rolled down the side of their face.

         “I was worried that Lyrem would grow soft.” Paimon said, placing a small potato in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed and savored the delicious taste as he reminisced. “Before he had met me, he had nothing. He ran around the world searching for meaning and purpose at the behest of millionaires and politicians but it was never enough. I brought him true love, and in exchange I put his skills to good use. Then, like all men eventually, he decided that he wanted to settle down. He wanted to live normally; grow old with his love and start a family. Well, I certainly couldn’t have that be the reason for a failing business. The last thing I ever wanted was to see him fail... I kept him on the right path. I saw him through the worst of his emotional tribulations with Maria until she finally left the picture, and I convinced him to find someone to new to work with.

        I wasn’t convinced by you in the beginning, I admit. You were too green for my tastes, and that is saying something. But, after I heard what you did for him, and what you did to your poor uncle, well… I realized that perhaps he did not make the mistake I thought he did.

         Then, I heard that Hekate’s debt to Lyrem had been forgiven. She no longer wanted his life paid out in full so, there was no more rush for you. I could sense that he would want to pump the brakes on your advancement in this field. That is why you’re here. I need to make sure you progress properly. Go ahead, sweet thing. Eat up. It will make you big and strong.”

        Arch had taken several bites already, but stopped as they listened to Paimon speak. They sliced into a side of the heart, allowing blood to escape and further pool into the plate.

        “Whose heart is this?” they asked.

        “Are you sure you want to know?”

        A blink, and Arch stuck their tongue between a gap in their teeth in the effort to loosen a piece of tough muscle that had been lodged there.

        “Probably not,” they replied, thankful for the response he gave. They took another bite. Arch burped and covered their mouth. “Excuse me.”

        “It’s a bit hard to get down the first time. That is why I am here to help,” Paimon remarked understandingly. He was nearly finished his meal now.

        “How did you meet Lyrem?” Arch inquired, carving out their next piece onto their fork.

        “He threw himself off a balcony and I saved him.”

        Arch’s eyes grew wide. They couldn’t imagine Lyrem to be anything less than self-preserving. He certainly couldn’t be suicidal.

        “He threw himself off a balcony? … Why would he do that?”

        “Because he was sad, and he was alone. Though, I never understood why he felt that way. He had it all, he had done it all. It turns out all he really needed was a good friend.”

        “Pfft. You?” They commented. “You think you’re a good friend?”

        Paimon raised a comical brow, unoffended and unironically he replied.

        “Well, yes, of course.” He set his plate aside. “I taught him plenty of tricks until he nearly became a god himself. Of course, he will never reach that tier but I was the only one who encouraged him to follow that yellow brick road. Then and even now, all sorts of people; rich, poor, young and old, sought him out for favours of his own, or favours from me. All they needed was something… genuine. An ancient sacrifice, a recent sacrifice, …or something simply more valuable than money could buy, and we would be willing to make an offer and give them whatever they wanted.”

        “And you want me to sell your… indulgences? Lyrem said it himself, I’m not the greatest salesperson. I’m not the same as him.”

        “Oh, sweet thing, yes you are. Just look at you. You’ll carve up a classmate for Lyrem’s spell work- just as he once did for me. Right now, you’re eating a raw human heart to gain mystical power- not even he was willing to do that without a firm shove in the right direction. With just a nudge of encouragement from yours truly, you’re nearly finished your very first. You belong with us. Lyrem’s an old friend; he’s a business partner and you’ve signed on as an employee of this great enterprise.” Paimon’s eyes shone with the inkling of pride as Arch finished the heart in two quick bites and shoved the plate away. “In fact, one day, I believe you’ll make partner.”

        They wanted to puke, but their body wouldn’t let them.

        “Is this the way all your business meetings go?”

        He laughed, throwing his head back.

        “Only the important ones.”

        Arch lifted their head; the life coming back to them that they had felt they had lost time and time again was returning now. Their feet no longer ached. Their head no longer pounded. Their stomach had been satiated completely.

        “So, tell me then,” Arch began, “when do I get a raise?”