#if he hadn't been running away he wouldn't have wound up in that position and izzy would have just normal stabbed him

[something-about-sunflowers]

I'm. I should be in bed. I should. But. Fucking hell is that a bad read lmfao. Just gonna go down the list shall we?

Stede starts off hesitant and asking about the rules because he doesn't KNOW the rules of a duel. Of which there are many, that he should have asked about before he accepted. Rules that Izzy, an experienced swordsman/fencer would know. Rules that Izzy, an experienced swordsman/fencer would follow, being 'the best sword on the seas'. Its not Izzy's fault or problem that Stede is overconfident and dumb. Stede isn't being 'proper' by entering a duel where he doesn't know the rules, he's being stupid. He’s TOLD this, in not so many words, by Ed (and the rest of the crew). Still not Izzy's fault or problem.

Izzy has been impatient with Stede throughout the season because he IS ignorant and naïve. And because he's arrogant despite being ignorant and naïve. And he's arrogant because he's a rich man/gentleman (in the original definition of the word: a land owner) who thinks he's better than people of lower stations than his own, even if its only subconsciously. Given that its subconscious and its a learned ideology that Stede is arguably working on, I'll give him the credit of 'he doesn't really mean it' but its an attitude he's turned on the crew as well and one that they haven't called him on (except Oluwande, but he was too gentle about it when Stede needs it to hit him like a brick) but they have narratively pointed it out.

He's not desperate, he's angry. And honestly, rightfully so, at least from his own point of view (and kind of like, in general too?). Stede has been nothing but unpleasant to him from the jump and his crew are following his lead. Izzy is not having a good time on the Revenge like Ed, Fang, and Ivan are. Nobody is letting him (even himself, in fairness). ANYWAY. Its not desperation, Stede is the desperate one if either of them are. He's not miraculously ‘out of reach’, he's running away. A lot. Not exactly in the spirit of the duel he accepted.

Stede's win is, by definition, unfair. He exploits a loophole, one that he didn't even know about, and he's lucky that Buttons did. Tossing the powder in Izzy's face is unfair. Getting Izzy's sword stuck is unfair. 'Rendering a weapon inoperable' in a traditional duel would likely mean 'disarming' the opponent with your own weapon. Getting the sword stuck fits on a technicality. Unfair. 'He just wanted to humiliate Izzy'? Have you been to like, kindergarten? Do you know what fairness is? That ain't it.

Izzy is a good swordsman and he's confident BECAUSE he's a good swordsman. He's not boastful/arrogant. He’s straight to the point. He's not the one who says 'he knows his shit' that's Ed. His confidence is earned. His downfall is not realizing he's one of the antagonists/the rival love interest in a rom-com. He can't adapt. If it were anyone else he was fighting but Stede Bonnet aboard the Revenge? He would have won. But because its Stede and because Izzy is following the rules of HIS world he loses. The same can be said for him in the rest of the season as well.

I can agree that the duel is a good show of personality but you're like. Wildly off about how it does so.

Not gonna reblog because anybody that has that bad a read of Izzy (and Stede tbh) is getting a block from me but I am happy to share my opinions. 3/10 read, you at least got the crew and Ed right.

P.S.

IZZY. IZZY HANDS? HE doesn't care about rules or fairness? Off the top of my head, Izzy: buys the hostages from the natives instead of stealing them, apologizes to Ed when he believes he's wronged him, plays chaperone/teacher while the Revenge crew is learning pirating, reminds Ed of his OWN rules and holds him to them, challenges Stede to a DUEL instead of outright killing him, gets decked in the face by Ed for selling out Stede and calls it 'fair', he literally describes himself as captain as 'tough but fair'. THAT Izzy Hands doesn't care about rules or fairness? Okay. Okay sure. Totally. Right.

[vivwritesfics]

"Oscah"

Accord to his girlfriend, his name isn't Oscar. It's Oscah

"Oscah!"

There was one person who said his name like that. Well, her brother sometimes did, but she only called him 'Oscah'. She hadn't said his name properly in months.

There was a small (rather large) part of him that loved it. It was a cute little nickname for him, like when Lando called him Osc.

Basically, the Norris siblings hated properly pronouncing is name. After a year in Mclaren, a year of being Lando's teammate, nearly a year of being with her, he barely knew his own name. Oscar Piastri? He only knew Osc and Oscah.

"Oscah!" He turned around at that. There she was, sitting beside her brother, readying herself to throw a balled up piece of paper at him. It didn't escape Oscar that she and Lando were sat in the exact same position. They weren't twins but they really could have been.

She wound her arm back and threw the piece of paper at Oscar. Call it his amazing driver reflexes, but he caught it and opened it out. 'U+ME = get out of here?'

He looked up, and she was still watching him. With a quick nod they were both out of their seats, walking out of the room as Lando sat there confused. "Thank you for enabling me," she said as she grabbed a hold of his hand, leading him outside.

Oscar stopped her and kissed her quickly. "I will never not enable you," he said and kissed her once again. "Now come on, before your brother catches up to us."

Even though they both loved Lando, he was the third wheel in their relationship. They both felt bad for taking off on him, but they just needed some time alone.

***

The paddock was bustling as Lando and Oscar walked through it. "Do you know where it is today?" Lando asked as he put his cap backwards.

Oscar's eyebrows rose. "It? You mean your sister?"

"Yeah, it," Lando reaffirmed.

Oscar had never heard Lando refer to his sister as 'it'. But it didn't surprise him. She bothered Lando just as much as he bothered her. "She is..." Oscar had to think about it. His girlfriend had told him where she was going to be while he was racing, but, for the life of him, he couldn't think of it. "I think she's at your grandma's house?" He suggested, but his eyebrows were raised, as if he himself didn't know.

"Huh," Lando muttered, nodding his head.

They continued on through the paddock.

"Oscah!"

He stopped dead in his tracks. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be back in England, with grandma and grandpa Norris. Oscar wouldn't believe it, not until he saw her.

"Oscah!"

This time, he couldn't stop himself from running to her. Phones were out, cameras were clicking as Oscar grabbed a hold of her and pulled her into his arms. As a usually private person it was weird to see him being so public, but neither of them cared.

"Lando knew the entire time, didn't he?" Oscar whispered, still holding her.

"Who's idea do you think this was?" She whispered back, tucking herself into his side. "C'mon, Oscah, show me the car," she said, pulling him away from the cameras.

***

She had been napping as he finished up. She'd woken up far too early and no amount of monster energy was keeping her awake. So, she napped while she waited for Oscar.

When Oscar finished, he gently woke her up.

It didn't matter how gentle he was being though. She batted his hand away and tried to roll away, nearly rolling herself off of the sofa. "C'mon," he said softly, attempting to pull her up.

"Piss off, Oscar," she muttered with a groan. "Let me sleep."

It was so weird, hearing her call him Oscar. He wasn't Oscar, not to her at least. Who was Oscar? He didn't know.

He stood over her for a moment, and she finally looked up at him. "What? Oscah, what?" She asked, sitting up.

"There we go," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. "Got scared when you called me Oscar."

"When I called you by your name?" She asked as he picked her stuff up (what a gentleman).

"When you called me Oscar, yeah."

"What do I normally call you?"

He stopped and stared at her. Did she seriously not realise that she rarely called him by his name. "Say my name," he said.

"Oscah."

"Now say Oscar," he said, putting emphasis on the R.

"Oscar-oh."

Oscar couldn't stop himself from laughing. "You seriously didn't notice?"

She shook her head and Oscar kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

"Love you too, Oscah."

[barcaatthemoon]

the ultimate betrayal || ingrid engen x mapi leon x child!reader ||

you get hurt from the most unlikely of sources.

you were definitely mapi's little girl. ingrid hadn't been there when mapi brought you home. she had been in wolfsburg, painfully unaware of your existence. the moment she got to barcelona and had her first practice, things changed forever. mapi claimed to have known from the moment that you ran over to the norweigan player that she had found her soulmate, or rather that you had found her soulmate.

everything that mapi did, you wanted to do too. that was why you were running around tailing your mother with a smaller version of her flag. it was a staple of barcelona games to have the tiny flag girl. players on both sides knew to watch out for you and create a bubble of sorts for you to run around in.

for the most part, you stuck around the barcelona players. occasionally, you'd wander over to the other players when barcelona played teams like athletico madrid. for the most part, you weren't too picky about who your friends were, as long as they weren't real madrid players. alexia and mapi had told you all about how badly sick they were. you hoped that one day, they'd find a cure to whatever was making them feel like that.

"vicky, watch my trick!" you called out to the player. you managed to get her attention as well as a few other people's, which you thought was great. you gripped your flag tightly in your hands and started to run before jumping up like you had seen your mami do before. unfortunately, you had a bit too much momentum than what you could handle, so you toppled right over and landed directly on your face.

ingrid didn't think that she had ever moved so fast in her entire life. mapi didn't even know what was going on, but once she heard you crying, she was right by ingrid's side as the norweigan scooped you into her arms to console you. you looked positively confused, having done your little trick on the trampoline at your abuela's before with your moms watching you.

"shh, shh, it's okay. you just had a little tumble, you're okay. look at me baby," ingrid said as she smoothed your hair down. you were still crying as you leaned back so that she could get a good look at you. that didn't last long because you quickly pushed your head against the side of her neck to hide from the sun. "mapi, i'm going to take (y/n) for a walk. she needs some ice for her head."

"alright, let's go." mapi looked a bit shaken up, but ingrid's presence and ability to stay calm helped a lot. she walked behind the two of you, smiling and waving at you when you peeked your head up to see where you were going. they took you to the trainer's, and while you normally liked him, today he kept shining a light in your eyes.

a bunch of boring questions and bright lights later, you were given sunglasses and headphones. there wasn't any music in them, but they made everything sound quieter, which you appreciated. mapi held you tightly in her arms after the game, which normally wouldn't have been an issue because you loved cuddling, but she was sweaty. once one of the other girls were back from the showers, you went over to cuddle with them.

"don't fall asleep," alexia said as she tapped on your nose. she had seen you fall, and a part of her was surprised that you had only walked away with a minor concussion and a little scrape from the top of your flag on your forehead. it was pretty close to your eye, so alexia knew how lucky you were that things weren't worse. "tell me a story bebita."

"no stories, i'm hurt," you whined. alexia cupped your cheeks and leaned down to press a kiss over the bandaid you had on your forehead. "not better, you're not ingrid. you don't have magic."

"bebita, your words wound me!" alexia gasped dramatically. you let out a small chuckle, but laughing made your head hurt. alexia played with you carefully, which was why you went over to her in the first place. she was always careful, outright refusing to rough house with you most of the time. mami said that she played like a coward, and you agreed. girls like cata and jana were far more fun, but they would have probably hurt your head worse.

"alright bebita, it's time to get on the bus," mapi said as she ushered you away from alexia. you happily let her carry you onto the bus, where you were sandwiched in between her and ingrid. you cuddled up against ingrid, playing with the woman's fingers as she and caro talked about something in norweigan. you didn't know the language very well at all, but you thought that it sounded beautiful whenever ingrid spoke it.

"i think that you dropped something on the field," cata said as she approached with your flag in her hand. immediately, you burst into tears, screaming at the top of your lungs in spanish to get it away from you. cata quickly tossed it behind her, hitting patri with it as she scampered off apologizing to mapi and ingrid.

"bebita, you love your flag," mapi said, obviously a little confused.

"no, i hate it. it hurt me," you cried. ingrid pulled you tightly against her chest and rubbed your back until your crying had subsided. you spent the whole ride back tucked safely against her side, not moving even when mapi and marta tried to bribe you with chocolates.

"this is serious, you have to fix things," marta said as she glanced at the flag patri was stuck holding. mapi knew that you'd eventually get over it, you had once claimed to hate bagheera after getting scratched, only to fall asleep cuddling the cat that night. in fact, you claimed to hate anything the moment that it hurt you, only to forget in a day or two, so mapi assumed this would also be the case.

…

upon your return home, the living room had been turned into a blanket fort. mapi took it upon herself to distract you from not being able to watch tv or play video games while ingrid made sure that you took naps and rested. they had a good balance going, which shouldn't have come as a surprise for either woman. they had been working effortlessly as a team for nearly their entire relationship.

"bebita, i think it is almost your naptime. we have a shadow," mapi said as she nudged your shoulder. you turned to see ingrid's legs as the woman stood in front of your fort. cautiously, you lifted up the door flap and peeked your head out.

"hola ingrid. do you want to come in?" you asked her. ingrid knelt down in front of you and pulled you out of the fort. "can i take my nap in the fort with mami, please?"

"not today. you're not taking a nap right now, we have to go to the doctor's," ingrid told you. you huffed and puffed, but let her put your shoes on anyway. you had thought it was a bit odd that both you and mami had to wear nice clothes to play in earlier.

the doctor did the same things the trainer did when you fell, only now the lights didn't bother you nearly as much. whatever the doctor had told your moms must have made them happy because ingrid took you to mcdonald's, which never happened. mapi would occasionally give in whenever you'd ask for it, but ingrid never did. you should have known something was up when you saw some of the barcelona girls there too.

"i've been holding onto something of yours for you," patri told you. you felt conflicted as she set your flag on the table in front of you. it was yours, and you loved it, but the last time you had played with your flag, you got headaches and couldn't watch movies or tv with your moms.

"that's a bad flag, it hurt me," you grumbled. patri sighed as she started to pull it away. on instinct, you reached out to grab it and pull it towards you. "but it's mine. i'm the flag girl, that's what mami says. it's my job to wave the flag so that we can win."

"does that mean you'll take it back?" patri asked. you nodded as you pulled the flag against your chest. silently, ingrid thanked patri as you sat there hugging the flag. "just be careful, we can't lose our flag girl again this season. vicky tried, but it's not the same."

[cleo-writes]

Leo Valdez x Apollo!reader pt2

Pt1 pt3

°•~《☆》~•°

A/n: if you saw the post asking if I should make this no you disn't. Also ignore the fact the position of his wound changed.

Warnings: kiss kiss, bad writing bc I suck at this :')

Enjoy!

°~•《☆》~•°

Small recap:

"You're not damaged goods, leo."

- You grabbed bandages -

"and even if you were, that wouldn't change the way people see you. You -" You cut yourself off.

Why were you going on this big rant trying to convince Leo he was worth something to someone - to everyone?

It was the truth, but why did you care for the obnoxious, flirty, son of hephestus?

You didn't say anything, grabbing the bandages and something to clean the wound.

"This is gonna sting." You mumble to Leo, carefully cleaning out the big, nasty cut in his side.

It wasn't too deep, thankfully. But it was pretty long, stretching from his right side to his belly button.

Leo whimpered, a noise you hadn't heard coming from his lips before.

He looked a little... ashamed? Vulnerable? ... it wasn't an expression you had seen on the great Leo Valdezs face before.

Regardless, you continued cleaning his wound. When you were finished, you placed gauze over the gash and began wrapping bandages tight around his torso.

Leo's face was inches away from yours.

Unfortunately, he would not let go of your gaze. He held this longing, fragile stare while you wrapped his wounds.

When you were finished, you didn't move away from him. You don't know why, but it just felt... right.

"Don't I get a kiss to make it better?" Leo whispered, his breath hot against your face. You could practically feel his body heat.

You chuckled lightly, looking away from Leo's piercing gaze just to pick it back up again.

"Why should I?" You whispered.

"Because..." Leo started playing with his fingers and looking away from you. Anywhere but your face.

"Because I like you?"

Silence.

You don't know why you did it. Leo Valdez was an annoyance to you... well, he was only an annoyance when he walked into the infirmary with hardly a scratch on him, saying he was in dire need of assistance.

When you two hung out elsewhere? It was different to you. Leo Valdez may have been snarky and making bad jokes all the time. But sometimes, he was the softest, sweetest little thing.

If you had the slightest migraine, Leo would be dimming down all the lights in Bunker 9 for you.

If you were cold, he would offer to cuddle you. Most of the time, you refuse his offer, snuggling under a pile of blankets instead. But one time you did. It was concerning how he has such a warm body temperature.

Others told you Leo was never like that with anyone else, even his closest friends. You didn't really believe any of what they said, but the look on his face now... something tells you he was always only sweet to you.

And maybe now he still would be, for a very, very long time.

You chuckled, though you were completely flustered and breaking down.

"...i-i like you too, repair boy."

You could feel the tension leave Leo. He sighed deeply and relaxed. But he still didn't get what he asked for.

He looked at you, slightly pleading for a kiss, slightly demanding one.

Of course, what choice did you have? He was the prettiest, sweetest boy you knew.

And maybe, just maybe you had feelings for him too all along that made you kiss him.

It was deep and passionate, long lasting. You heard Leo moan ever so slightly it made you chuckle and break the kiss for just a second.

You looked into Leo's eyes and saw him silently begging, pleading for more.

You gave him what he wanted, picking the kiss back up in a swift motion.

Your tongue grazed his bottom lip ever so slightly that made him melt at your fingertips. You cupped his cheek and let your other hand run through his hair. Leo grabbed your waist and softly pulled you closer to him.

When you pulled away, Leo wasn't smiling like a manic or making a snarky comment.

He was dumbfounded. Shocked, surprised, all of the above. He tried to say something but only opened and closed his mouth a few times before his pretty grin spread on his face.

You don't know how long you sat there staring at each other, memorizing each other's features, everything about him seemed more... lively, and up for the taking. You wanted to be the one to take him, one way or the other.

You heard your name being called from somewhere else in the infirmary, and you snapped back into reality.

You shifted, breaking your gaze. "Well," you swallowed. "You're fixed up. Now get out of my infirmary." You mumbled, though you didn't sound annoyed in the slightest.

You wanted him to stay. Maybe he could help out? Grab supplies for you while your hands were occupied with keeping a patient calm?

Leo regained his sanity and pouted a bit, he didnt wanna leave you either. But, you both knew it was best to talk about this later. Leo threw his shirt over his head and started to walk out of the infirmary with a big grin on his face.

You went off to whoever was calling you, pushing down the memory of what had just happened so you wouldn't be distracted and hurt a patient. It wasn't any use. Your siblings were almost concerned with how you were smiling so much while stitching a wound.

Before Leo could walk out of the infirmary, he wanted so badly to turn around just to get a small glimpse of you. Your eyes, your smile, anything about you.

He knew he shouldn't. If he turned around, he knew he would wander until he found you somewhere in the infirmary just to try and talk things out with you while you were busy.

Leo fortunately didn't turn around. He walked out of the infirmary, already running over things to say to you in his head.

°•~《☆》~•°

I could possibly make a part 3 where leo and you talk things out? Does anyone want that or....

[threepandas]

The Vod's List: Part 1.5

Fox sat in the medcenter staring blankly at the 'sensor's read out. They all were. A numb sort of horror silencing the normally busy room. The only real noise was the steady churning hum of the substance analyzer off on a table to the side, still busy churning away at what exact compound EXACTLY were in the liquid drying on his face. Running in random chaotic lines of slowly drying death, down his neck.

He really needed to change before he got reinfected.

But... but all he could do was stare.

There was a chip in his head.

WAS. It was half gone and disappearing even as they watched. Whatever let it hide itself the first thing destroyed, by what now flowed in his blood. His head felt like it was going to pop. Yet? As... WHATEVER those things were? Worked? Processed. Attacked. Did what ever it was they were designed to DO... the less his head hurt.

The medic said it looked like they went after the connection filaments first. Then traced them back to the chip itself. Because... because he had a CHIP in his brain.

He was compromised.

How long had he been compromised?

Were the others? Or was it just him? Was it because of his position of command? Should the other commanders get checked? What is he saying. Of course they should. They have too. He has no idea when this could even have OCCURRED. It could be a threat to the Republic. To the Vod.

The analyzer chimes. His vod numbly going through the motions to check the read out. Only to pause. Check again. Then again. Fixer calls over another medic. Well... that reassuring.

They have samples, scraped from his cheek and neck. He expect then to pop them into another machine, when they pick the vial up. But instead? The rest of them watch in confused horror as the two medics apply some two a swab, grab a vibroscalpel, and make cuts along their arms. Pressing the swabs to the fresh wounds.

Deliberately... infecting... themselves...

VOD WHAT IN THE FRESH HELLS?!

One set chrono and a vicious shouting match later? The truth reveals itself. Two more scans. Two matching chips, being eaten away. It's Kamino cure, they say. Half way across the known galaxy, probably has all sorts of side effects they'll have to look out for, but? Assuming they SURVIVE it?

This could fix every karked up thing the long necks ever put in them, known or unknown.

It's DESIGNED to "fix" it's host, no matter the cost. That is... assuming the host can endure the pain. Kriff. His mind can't help but shoot back. The civilian. An aid to an aid so many layers down in the senate, they're barely one step above the Vod themselves. Glorified furniture with a purpose.

She'd been...

The sheer HORROR in her eyes, when she realized she'd shared what was inside her. When they met, she was in a karking muzzle, too. Sure, it was designed to be "humane". But she couldn't even run in it. It suffocated her. Did she endure? Was that why she froze up? Every injury the threat of something so much WORSE?

He could see the same thought, spreading like everything always does with the Vod.

Fast and impossible to contain.

Kriff... he ran a hand down his face, exhausted. They hadn't even figured out who was behind THIS attack. Anti-war protesters, kidnapping attempt, assassination attempt. Some sleemo who wanted to watch the galaxy burn, maybe. It didn't matter. What DID was that they contain it.

....maybe get a gaurd or two on their new friend.

I mean... it wasn't UNREASONABLE, right? She... she COULD be a target. Natural bioweapon. People can be terrible. Wouldn't put it past somebody right? And they really SHOULD have complete coverage of the senate building. Even the lower levels. That's were trouble makers try to slip in.

It's reasonable.

It's not like she's THEIR Civilian. They don't HAVE an anything. The other Vod have their generals. Various officers, if their Generals aren't that great. The Gaurd doesn't... they don't NEED...

I mean... it would be NICE...

No. Focus.

Just because she helped you and yours... just because she's SOFT and CIVILIAN and VULNERABLE to threats-! Don't. Do not. Vod, I can FEEL you-

"Did you know most Technoganic never leave their planet?" Nose piped up from near the door, little shit could never leave anything alone if he TRIED. He had his datapad out. "Says here they are highly priority targets for slavers."

Every Vod in the room twitched.

Well... there went HIS calm. His hand went to his com-link, already fighting to keep from clenching his jaw. A.. FEW gaurds wouldn't hurt. For Senatorial safety. They aren't giving anyone preferential treatment! Just. Being cautious.

Doing their job.

They should check in.

Just in case.

[captain-mj]

Angst? How about Ghost being blind (temporary or not is up to you) after a failed mission and of course it brings him back to his past

Oh you are devious this thank you

First part is Price's pov, then it switches to Ghost's

Price winced at the small explosion, mentally checking everyone's position. Soap was rather far away. Gaz was too. Not far enough away to be considered safe, but far enough away that they should be able to take care of himself.

Ghost hadn't been. If Price had their positions right, he would've been a just a few rooms away from it.

"Simon!!" Price started to run to where Ghost would be. He searched the area, trying to find him. The explosions wouldn't have been big enough to kill him, right?

There he was.

Ghost was knelt down with his hands over his head, the standard way to sit when debris may still be falling. The roof had fallen to pieces around him. Scattered pieces of wood and brick from the wall that Price had to climb over.

"Simon, you're good. This place is steady for now, you can get up."

Ghost didn't move. He was clearly awake though. Price wondered if he was still hearing the ringing and moved closer to help him. His hand rested on his back. "Hey, son. You're good now." It was now that he noticed the growing puddle of blood underneath them, but he couldn't see a wound.

"I'm in the box. Why am I back in the box." Ghost mumbled.

Price frowned and gently tugged him. "Simon, can you hear me?"

"John, please get me out of the box." He didn't sound distressed, though that didn't mean much. Ghost was an expert at keeping these things out of his voice.

Price moved him, first removing his hands from the top of his head and then tilting his head up. His pupils dilated very slowly and they had a glazed look over them. But across his chest was a gash of some kind and the blood had started to slowly trickle from it.

"Simon."

Ghost's eyes fluttering, though they were still clearly sightless.

Cold water ran down Price's spine as Ghost went limp. Clearly not dead, but blood loss had gotten to him.

The problem was Ghost was almost 300 pounds without the gear and there was no way Price could get him back alone. He got on the comms. "Gaz, Soap, sitrep."

"Solid. That explosion was in a terrible position." Price could feel Soap holding back his critiques on the bomb.

"Solid, sir." Gaz chipped in, sounding slightly out of breath but fine.

"Ghost is down. Need help getting him out of here."

Soap sounded panicked. "What? Where? I'm coming now, sir."

Price would roll his eyes if he didn't find it endearing. Also if his best friend wasn't down. He informed them of his position and ordered them to get there carefully. The building may not be actively still falling apart, but no need to tempt fate, especially when this room had been so wrecked.

They managed to get him up and moved. It was difficult, but they managed. Price and Gaz both pretended they didn't notice that Soap was clearly more affected. He looked so distressed that Price felt sorry for him.

Once Ghost was resting in medbay, Price could already hear the snarky remarks of they should've just put him in his room to sleep it off, he stayed with Soap. Gaz got them some tea, but eventually, he left to get started on the reports. He told Soap he'd do most of his for him so he could focus on Ghost. Price knew he should tell him no, Soap wasn't injured, no reason for him to not be able to. But while that may be what he was supposed to do, he wouldn't dream of making Soap leave the waiting room.

A nurse told them Ghost had a nasty concussion and thanks to the blood loss knocking him out cold, it was hard to tell how it affected him.

"I thought you weren't supposed to sleep after a concussion?" Soap looked nervous.

"Don't worry. That's not true. Sleep is actually good for the brain in these times. It's only if they lose consciousness out of nowhere that its a problem and we know why he fell asleep." The nurse patted him. "Your friend probably won't be up for a while, but he's completely okay."

"Thank you, ma'am." Price nodded at her. She told them they were welcome to sit with him.

Price let Soap sit with him alone, with the caveat that he tell him when he woke up.

-

Ghost felt something in his arm. It hurt, like a sting. He opened his eyes to find out where he was and found nothing. An inky darkness. Not black. There was an absence of color too.

The box. He was back in the box with the scorpion it must've stung him on his arm that's why it hurt. They let him go back to the box why did they do that why did they put him back in the box

He quickly reached his hands up, trying to find where the box ended. A hand grabbed him.

"Ghost! You're up!" Soap. Soap sounded so excited.

Ghost hit where he was holding him as hard as possible. "Get me out of the box I want the fuck out." He snapped at him. He kicked his feet, connecting with something that felt hard. Metal but it had gaps.

Soap grabbed his face, cupping it so gently. "Ghost, calm down. There is no box."

"Then why is it so dark?"

"Dark... We're in a hospital room. There's fucking fluorescents." Soap sounded confused.

The realization started dawning on them. "Simon, what can you see?"

"Nothing. Not a bloody thing."

Soap took a deep breath. "I'm going to get a nurse, okay? You're alright. You're in a hospital bed, safe and sound." His hand pulled away.

Ghost tried to believe him. He really did. But the air felt stale and the machine next to him gave away his rapidly increasing heartrate. There was a machine hooked up to him.

Ghost took a shuddering breath. "Don't leave." He listened for Soap's heartbeat or even his breathing, but he couldn't over the sound of the machine.

"Soap?"

"Johnny?"

The beeping became louder and more obnoxious. It drove into his skull, reminding him that he was all alone. They were going to start cutting him open. They needed him alive so his vitals were monitored. He'd be cut open again and they wouldn't stop and it would hurt an-

"Mr. Riley." He recognized her voice. The head nurse. Sometimes he would let her look at wounds if he thought they looked infected, much to her chagrin. "We're going to run a couple of tests, okay?"

Ghost nodded slowly.

"You can feel your eyes, correct?"

What an odd question. "Yes."

"Open your eyes as wide as you can."

"No."

"What?"

"You're going to do something..." Ghost didn't trust her. What if she plucked out his eyes? Or stabbed something into him? He couldn't see her to stop her.

Soap grabbed his shoulders. "It's okay. I'm here. Not going to let anything happen to you."

Ghost hesitantly opened his eyes and there was a pause. He tried not to tremble like a bitch.

"Your eyes aren't reacting to the light at all. Sometimes, when someone experiences blunt force trauma, it can cause blindness."

"Temporary or permanent? Soap asked as Ghost spiraled.

"Depends. He could never get it back. It could reappear in a few hours. There's no way to tell."

Ghost knew his luck. He knew he was never going to see again.

The scorpions stung him. Maggots crawled over his skin. Under his skin. He couldn't see them to get them off.

His heartrate jumped again, beeping erratically.

"Mr. Riley, you need to remain calm. You were injured and you may reopen your wounds."

Ghost's heart didn't stop, though he did stay still. He didn't want to live like this. The bugs. The dirt. The air was so stale.

"Simon." Soap's voice broke his thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"

Ghost couldn't answer, just shaking his head.

"I'll watch him, ma'am."

"Thank you, Mr. MacTavish."

"You can call me Soap."

"No." She left. Ghost could hear her footsteps.

"Simon. What do you need?"

Ghost hated how he sounded. "The bugs... I know they're not real, but I can feel them."

"Do you need me to... brush them off?"

"Please don't." Ghost wasn't sure if he could deal with it. He wasn't sure whose hands he'd see them as.

Soap put a slight amount of pressure on the bed, just enough that Ghost would know where he is.

"Alright. No touching. There's nothing on you."

Ghost went to tell him not to bother, but it helped. A little. "Absolutely nothing?"

"Nada. Not even a shadow."

Ghost nodded and curled up on his side.

"Simon... Why would there be bugs? What box were you talking about?"

Ghost felt himself spiraling. Not mentally, physically, he slowly turned around and around. "They put me in a box with a scorpion. It would sting me and it was dark."

"Jesus Christ." Soap sat fully on the bed, in the space where Ghost's legs bent. "Why?"

Ghost was quiet for a while. Soap's hand landed on his boot, the tiniest bit of contact.

"He was mad at me."

"Who?"

Ghost didn't answer for a while again before choosing to not answer that question. "They buried me alive with another dead body. It had maggots and beetles and little things that crawled all over me. They got in my nose and my mouth. Tried getting in my ears."

Soap didn't respond other than to put his hand on his shoulder. He rubbed gently.

"It was so dark. I'm back in the dark." Ghost said helplessly. He couldn't defend himself. He couldn't keep being in the military like this. He'd have to retire. He had nothing. No place to go home. No where to go. "This is all I have. I don't have anything else."

Soap rubbed his back more, reassuring him that he was at least there. "Do you have any family?"

"All dead. All because of me." He closed his eyes, feeling his eyes burn. "I have nothing besides my team. I'm going to have to quit. I can't..." Ghost couldn't do another job. He wanted to sometimes, but it wasn't in the cards for him. He had no idea what he was going to do.

"Simon, it's okay, alright? I promise, we'll figure it out."

Ghost shuddered and buried his face in the pillows. "Go away please."

"No. Ghost, come on, don't kick me out."

"Please..."

"I'm not leaving you alone."

Ghost hated him but he relaxed into his touch. "Okay... Okay..." He felt him there. His hands so warm and inviting. Ghost must've dozed off at some point because Soap suddenly disappeared.

Before he could panic, he heard him and Price talking. Their voices were soft, lulling him. He yawned and curled up more, tucking himself into as tight a ball as possible. He was so tired and it was hard to focus.

Ghost yawned and his body protested him not going back to sleep.

"We'll set something up. I have a place he can stay in free of charge for now." Price told Soap.

Soap, Ghost imagined him probably nodding, responded. "I want to take leave for a while. I don't want him alone."

"Let's hope we get you both back soon then."

The next two days were a blur. Ghost ended up in Price's spare flat with Soap. Soap who would not give him a moment of space. He tried to map out the flat, counting his steps around the apartment.

"Simon do you nee-"

"No. I do not need help. I am just going to the kitchen." Simon reached out, feeling the wall. "Stop babying me."

Soap was staring. Ghost could fucking feel it.

"Johnny."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Right." Ghost got to the kitchen. He wanted a cup of tea but the stove.... His confidence wasn't there yet. Instead, he made himself a cup of water. It was... different. Very different. He made his way back to the room and sat next to Soap again. He accidentally sat too close, their thighs brushing.

"I could make you tea, ya know."

"You make it bad."

"You haven't even tried it!"

"I know you do. It's a scottish curse."

Soap was staring at him. Ghost could tell. "Is my mask on wrong?"

"No. Are you going to lift it up?"

"Can you take it off?"

Soap paused. "What?"

"Just... take it off. Can't see myself. I'm not military. Just take it off for me." He leaned closer and eventually he felt Soap grab it and pull it off of him.

"There you are."

Ghost pulled back and sipped his drink. "Fine. I'll try your tea. You know how long it needs to steep right?"

"Of course I do!" Ghost could hear the click of Soap's phone as he no doubt looked it up.

He didn't like this. He was very.... He hated it. But other than the forced medical leave, it wasn't completely awful.

Maybe having Soap's undivided attention helped a tiny bit. He wouldn't admit it.

Soap brought him the tea. It tasted bad. Ghost had no clue how he messed up this bad.

"I will walk you through it later."

"I'm glaring. Ye can't see it, so I'm telling you."

Ghost laughed. "Whatever, Johnny."

[namorslutfanfiction]

Oh boy am I grateful to have found your blog!! I have two requests if that’s ok but I’ll ask them separately to make it easier for you as I’m sure you have many! Ok so 1 - we all know tenoch kisses like a slut so I was thinking tenoch and reader have a kiss scene (maybe sex scene but only if you’re comfortable) and there’s some mutual pining and they get carried away with themselves

Thank you for that. He does in fact kiss like a slut.

Summary: He rarely got nervous during sex scenes let alone kissing scenes. But you had him so wound up that he couldn't help himself.

Oh this ends in SMUT for sure.

Tenoch was feeling incredibly wound up. Four months of filming with you and he was fully and undeniably attracted to you. From the way you smiled at him to the way he could always smell your perfume in the makeup trailer in the morning. Everything about you was playing on his mind. But you were also so hard to read.

The problem wasn't that you were closed off or even shy. It was that you treated everyone equally. You knew everyone's name and if you didn't you made a point to ask. You gave out compliments freely, remembered small details, and never forgot anyone's birthday. You greeted everyone with a hug or a kiss unless they said not to. Then you made an effort to find out a comfortable way to greet them that they now fondly accepted.

If he hadn't seen you act with open affection with everyone else he may have believed you returned his attraction. You of course had spent most of your time and scenes with him the last few months as you filmed this movie together. The chemistry you shared translated into your characters and Tenoch found it easy to act out being in love with you. You were affectionate with him and seemed to enjoy his company.

So far you had only filmed a couple brief kissing scenes. While you kept it light hearted and comfortable between takes, Tenoch was fighting his urge to kiss you longer, rougher, and more passionately each time.

The way you would look at him while you filmed a scene could make anyone fall in love. The trust, the adoration, and the lust were palpable. But the minute the director yelled 'cut' your eyes would shift back to an unreadable pleasantness that drove the actor insane. Even when the two of you, or even with a group, went out after a day of shooting he could not tell if you favored him at all.

The rehearsals leading up to the sex scene had been comfortable and playful between the two of you. Neither of you were embarrassed about nudity and you approached the whole situation with logic and communication. When Tenoch told you that he tended to run with the feelings of the scene rather than to choreograph every movement, you simply nodded and said you could adjust.

"So you wouldn't mind if it got more explicit? Like I put my mouth on your nipples while you say your lines about how we shouldn't continue?" Tenoch asked, teasingly.

You just smiled serenely, "That would actually fit your character, getting distracted from the risk because he finally gets to give into the mutual attraction."

Tenoch almost scoffed at how easily you had redirected, "He would want to go down on her. I'll have to get close depending on the angle."

"That's what the modesty tape is for. I'll definitely be pulling at your hair and scratching you but I'll try not to be too rough," You said as you laid back onto the bed on set. You were both dressed and there were crew milling about as they prepped for the shoot tomorrow. The intimacy coordinator had left awhile ago and the two of you had been discussing the shoot the next day in the bed it would take place in.

While major parts of the scene were choreographed, like when the bed would get involved, when clothes would come off, and what positions would ultimately be used, the rest was up to them. Tenoch was more experienced in these things, "Pull as hard as you want, and leave marks on my back if you like too. I think it will do wonders for the scene."

He was laying on his side with his head propped on his hand looking at you. Tenoch was admiring your profile as you reminded him that he was filming a pool scene in a couple days so you couldn't actually leave marks.

Tenoch scoffed, flipping onto his back so you both were staring up into the ceiling, shoulders touching, "Aye, that's what makeup artists are for. We should leave big read hickeys on each other and see whose make up artist does the best at covering it up."

You laughed lightly then it was your turn to turn to your side, prop your head up and admire his profile. You ran a finger down his forehead, the bridge of his nose, and then over his lip. He playfully nipped at your finger before you took a hold of his chin and made him look at you. "You're always so silly."

"And you're always so serious," He replied smoothly. Tenoch tried not to get lost in your eyes as you stared at him. The air shifted and the tension between you rose to a peak again. He did not want to think about how kissable you looked at the moment, "If we are going to be serious then we can. I don't think I have to remind you that if you ever feel uncomfortable or that the scene isn't going the way it should, then please stop me. We can always do another take. If you need a break or even just a moment to breathe, take it. I know that these kind of scenes can be taxing to shoot."

His sincerity touched you. You knew behind the suggestive jokes and the flirtatious attitude that Tenoch cared about your wellbeing and safety, "I know Tenoch. I trust you. I think it will turn out perfectly."

Tenoch was taken by surprise when you leaned over and kissed his cheek. You were sitting up before he could react. "Goodnight, Tenoch. I'll see you tomorrow. And for the record, no hickeys."

He watched you leave, putting a hand to his cheek and rubbed the spot where your lips had been. Tenoch sighed, you were really getting under his skin.

~~~

The next day, the shoot started bright and early at the studio. Not very sexy but with all the cameras, you didn't expect it to be. Hair and makeup were minimal and once all the physical prep was worked out it was time to start. You both naturally fell into your characters.

"You keep talking down to me knowing damn well I can leave you shaking and whimpering under me if you gave me the chance," Tenoch was speaking his line softly, you were only millimeters apart and you could feel his breath against your lips. The way he looked at you shook you to your core.

He grabbed your chin, "Do you want to give me that chance now? I have a feeling you like being put in your place."

The way he purred that last line set off something inside you and you tried not to be embarrassed or self conscious about feeling yourself getting aroused. You had been doing so well being professional with him, still your close and affectionate self but with a boundary. The kissing scenes were always a struggle for you, trying not to sink to deeply into the need and want for the man. This scene now would be your biggest hurdle to keeping your attraction a secret.

You met his gaze, "We shouldn't do this here."

You put a hand against his chest and pushed him back. He only moved slightly. His hand covered yours on his chest. You watched him as he looked you in the eye and took your hand, placing it on his crotch. He took your chin and again got close enough to you that it was nearly a kiss, "Don't pretend you don't get wetter at the thought of someone finding you on your knees for me. Or better yet pinned to their bed while I fuck you."

Then his lips were on yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands roughly found the hem of your shirt and pushed it up to expose your bra clad breasts. As Tenoch found your neck, his hand pushed underneath your bra to palm your breast. You threw your head back and moaned a moan that wasn't acting.

You felt Tenoch pause for a moment then he pulled you in for another kiss that was only broken as he pulled his shirt over his head and yours followed. His hand found the back of your neck as his lips found you own again. With his other hand he tried to unhook your bra. His kissing faltered and then he let out a giggle against your lips. You opened your eyes as Tenoch pulled away. He was breathing heavily but had a goofy smile on his face.

"What?" You whispered, embarrassed at how breathy you sounded.

"I think your bra is stuck," Tenoch said loud enough for the crew to hear. The director yelled cut.

"It's alright Tenoch, Y/N that was nearly the end of that part anyway. Let's figure out why the bra is stuck and then we can reshoot that part from the other angles," The director turned to the crew to reset for the next angle.

Tenoch was a little red faced as he guided you to turn around. You felt yourself grow shy as the intimacy coordinator brought a towel over to give you some privacy as Tenoch figured out why your bra was stick.

"Ah, I got it. I'll put it back. There was a little extra loop and one of the hooks got caught. It should be okay for the next take," Tenoch said as he smoothed your bra back down and went to find the shirt he had tossed.

"That felt good I think," You tried to start an innocent conversation. You were sure that you looked a little flustered and hopefully not as needy as you felt. You took a look at all the crew and the cameras and tried to make yourself feel a little more embarrassed hoping it would but a damper on your arousal.

Tenoch now had his shirt back on, "Yea I liked when you pushed me away. That felt like a challenge. Was the boob grab too much?"

"No, no it was great, um fine. Yea it was fine. Now let's do it 4 more times," You tried to joke again. Tenoch was grinning at you and reminded you that you still hadn't put your shirt back on.

It was only 3 more takes of the lead up sequence and then it was time for the bed. There wasn't much dialogue during the journey between the wall and the bed, but there was a bit of coordination needed over when clothes would come off. Eventually you and Tenoch were laying on the bed naked except for the blanket you both were laying under for modesty, while the crew reset.

"How are you feeling?" Tenoch asked, turning on his side to look at you. You were unfortunately very aware that the modesty bandage between your legs was having trouble staying in place due to the moisture collecting there.

Your mind flashbacked to the last couple hours. The countless kisses, the skin on skin contact, the moans you released that weren't as much acting as you wanted them to be. You were annoyed with how flustered you were getting while it seemed like Tenoch was doing just fine.

"Hello, Y/N? Que pasa?" Tenoch asked as he waved his hand in front of your face.

You shook yourself out of your reverie, "U-um I'm fine, I just need to go to the bathroom."

You scooted to the edge of the bed and one of the assistants wrapped a robe around you and helped you to the bathrooms. The intimacy coordinator knocked on your dressing room door to find you sitting on the couch with your head in your hands. She rushed to your side, "Y/N, what's wrong? Is it too much? We can tell them to cut the shoot short today or we can change the scene?"

You let out a long groan, "It's nothing like that."

"Tell me how I can help you," She took a seat next to you and patted your back lightly, "What's bothering you?"

You looked at the compassionate face of the other woman, "You won't laugh?"

"Not unless it's really funny," She teased, you made a face but she reassured you, "I promise I won't laugh. Even if it's funny."

You hesitated then turned to your side and showed her the crumpled modesty bandage, "I-I got too wet."

"Oh honey, that's totally normal," She said taking the bandage and throwing it in the trash next to her, "You're a woman being very intimate with an attractive man. I was surprised you lasted that long. We have a ton more where that came from so we can bandage you up as many times as you need."

You felt your cheeks heat up and patted them to try to cool yourself, "It's embarrassing. I'm trying to be professional but it's just overwhelming."

The older woman rubbed a comforting hand up and down your arm, "Don't be embarrassed. Just between you and me, Tenoch asked us to keep his socks in the cooler so whenever he had to get tucked again it would make him soft."

Your eyes widened and you couldn't help the amusement showing on your face, "Really?"

"You're both very attractive people with blazing chemistry. It's an extensive scene and the director is pretty specific with how many angles he wants. You've been going at it for hours. I'd be worried if he didn't need a little help to stay decent. The way he kisses you seems a bit more desperate than necessary. Lucky girl." Her voice was soothing and you felt better about your biological reaction. But now you were thinking about Tenoch getting hard from kissing and touching you. "Come, Y/N, we will get you bandaged up again and then we can finish up the shoot.

~~~

Tenoch was left in the bed by himself as you went to handle your business. He shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the hard on that was raging while strapped to his leg with a sock and bandage. He hoped you hadn't felt him during the last couple takes. The actor was at his wits end after spending hours essentially doing foreplay and hearing your moans.

Whenever the cameras were cut you reverted back to yourself so quickly that Tenoch almost felt a little insulted. But he had noticed the darkening of your eyes and the swift rubbing of your legs together when you thought he wasn't looking. He was finally having some effect on you. There was only one scene left and he was actually looking forward to the exquisite torture to come to an end. At least in his hotel room alone he would be able to relieve himself.

"Hey, can we change the sock?" Tenoch asked one of the assistants who hurried over to a cooler and handed him the necessities. The actor took care of the switch under the sheets, not caring that the crew was walking around. The coldness of the sock slipping on made him hiss but his erection finally died down again.

"You ready?" You asked him, having made it back to your side of the bed.

"Always, hermosa," Tenoch replied with a grin. He watched as you took your robe off and slid back into bed with him. "Are you sure you're okay?"

When you looked at him he saw a flash of amusement. He watched as your eyes roamed his naked shoulders and chest, landed on his lap then shot straight back up to meet his eyes, "Never better, handsome."

The director called for places as they started the next take. Tenoch pushed the sheet down as he got on top of you. His hand found your breast as he slotted himself between your legs. The way you were look at him from the bed was different now, there was affection and lust. You seemed to have slipped into character quickly. The director yelled action and after a moment Tenoch whispered his last line before he captured your lips in a kiss.

You grasped at his hair and gripped his back as he kissed his way down your neck and pulled a nipple in his mouth. His other hand massaged your other tit as he hiked one of your legs up around his waist. You both pantomimed the moment when he would have slid inside of you. Together you acted out the act, groping, kissing, and making filthy noises. Tenoch had to start thinking of all the cameras because he could feel himself getting hard again. You acted out the scene until you finished your character's love making and then collapsed into bed and each others arms.

The director called for a cut and then reset. Agonizingly you both went through the motions again from different angles just like the other takes for the other parts. By the time you finished, both of you were a little hoarse and sweaty. Neither of you could look each other in the eye. You were both led to your dressing rooms to clean up and decompress. A final talk with the intimacy coordinators about how you both felt it went was the bookend to the long day.

The both of you exited your dressing rooms at the same time. You greeted Tenoch like usual, trying hard to forget how wet the last few modesty bandages had been and remembering you were coworkers. "Good job today. It was fun acting with you as always, as awkward as sex scenes can be I'm happy I did it with you. Thanks for taking care of me and being so attentive."

"Yeah, good job too. I think it will look great," Tenoch replied, distracted by the immediacy of his hard on at the sight of you even fully clothed. "Heading back to the hotel?"

"Yeap, I am beat," You replied nonchalantly as he headed down the hallway. Tenoch followed you, trying not to draw attention to the bulge in his pants.

"I already called an uber. Just ride with me," Tenoch said as he hurried to catch up.

The short ride was easy and companionable. The both of you did your hardest to appear unaffected by the proximity after the day you had had together. But Tenoch was covering his crotch subtly with his folded hands and you were trying not to think about how wet your panties were.

You parted ways when the elevator dropped you off at your floor, and agreed to get breakfast together before the shoot the next day. Tenoch watched you longingly as the elevator doors closed. He turned and smushed his forehead against the cold polished mirror of the elevator. He felt like he had been edging for hours and release was finally in sight.

When he entered his hotel room, he went straight to the tequila on his counter and poured himself a shot. He needed to relax. The actor palmed his crotch as he took of his shoes and pulled off his shirt. He was dying to jack off but held off to wash up before bed. The actor knew that once he got relief he would probably fall asleep for the night.

As he finished his nightly ablutions there was a knock at his door. He looked at the clock and it was close to nine. There shouldn't have been any maids or anything roaming around. When he opened the door he was surprised to find you standing there, barefoot, and out of breath.

~~~

A part of you hoped he wouldn't open the door; that he had fallen asleep as his head hit the pillow. But he did and stood there shirtless in low slung jeans, slightly damp hair, and a bulge in his pants.

"Can I come in?" You asked as you pushed past him.

"I guess. What's up?" He asked as he shut the door. You had walked into the room only a few steps and turned. You were only a couple feet away from him and already you were dying to touch him.

"I, um, I just wanted to ask you something," You stuttered out, wringing your hands together. You were conflicted, worried that you were just imagining the attraction.

"Was it so important that you forgot to put shoes on?" You followed his gaze to your feet, surprised to see the bare. "Now who is the one being silly."

The genuine smile on his face was your undoing. You crossed the short distance and pulled his lips down for a kiss. He hesitated for a moment then returned it with the same passion. You pushed him back against the door as he pulled you flush against him.

Your hands found his jeans and started to undo them. Soon your hand was shoved in his briefs palming his already hard cock. He moaned into your mouth as you thumbed his tip. You pulled at his lip with your teeth as you knelt before him. Neither of you spoke, not wanting to interrupt this explosion of attraction, this culmination of a day of denied lust.

You pulled his pants all the way down. Tenoch stepped out of them while keeping his eyes on you, as if you would disappear if he looked away. Your hand circled his cock, pumping it lightly before you took his tip into your mouth. He tasted clean and his skin was smooth. You felt his hand gently guide your head to start taking him in and then out.

Tenoch was already moaning, not believing but thoroughly enjoying what was happening. Your lips around his cock, the way you looked up at him as you palmed his balls were making it difficult for him not to thrust into your throat. You relished the look of pleasure on his face as you blew him. You had felt his hard on a couple times today but you were still pleasantly surprised at his size, especially his girth.

There was drool dripping off your lip when he finally pulled you off his cock, stopping himself from cumming. "Get up."

You followed his command and he pushed you up against the door, back arched, and with your legs spread apart. He pulled off the pajamas you were wearing, frustrated that they were in the way of him touching you. Tenoch kissed and nipped at your neck and shoulders from behind, running his hands up your front to cup and pinch your breasts.

Your breaths were coming in quick succession as the sensations overwhelmed you. The actor kissed his way down your body as his hand found the apex of your thighs and started to touch your wet pussy. You mewled at the sudden contact, aware that you were a wet mess for him. On his part, Tenoch let out a masculine grown, "God, tell me you've been wet for me like this all day."

"You have no idea how many times I had to change the modesty bandage. I'm convinced you made me cum without touching my pussy." The words would have embarrassed you if you weren't so overcome with need.

You felt Tenoch smile into your back as he got on his knees behind you. He affectionately nipped at your ass cheek and then lightly slapped the other. The actor palmed your cheeks, spread them and enthusiastically began eating your ass. The sensation surprised you but wasn't unpleasant. His tongue teased at your tight hole, setting off nerves you'd never felt before. Tenoch licked and sucked at your ass with enthusiasm, pulling moans from you that you had never heard before.

"Delicioso," He whispered against your ass as his hand came back around to rub your clit and tease your pussy.

You could feel your legs shaking as his tongue found your pussy. He lapped at your wetness hungrily. "Tenoch, please, I need you."

Your plea was all he needed. He stood and turned you around for a body melting kiss. He led you deeper into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Tenderly, he kissed your tummy then pulled you to him to suck lightly on your nipples. The actor's hand teased you between your legs for a moment longer before he lightly pushed you onto the bed.

With his strong arms he pulled you by your legs to the edge of the bed. Your chest was pushed into the covers, your back arched, with your ass in the air. His hands caressed your back affectionately, reaching between your cheeks to thrust two fingers into your waiting pussy. You gripped at the sheets, loving the feeling of having something of his inside you. The hours with him touching you and on top of you early had made you impatient.

"The sounds you make, mujer, they make me wanna bury myself inside your sweet pussy," Tenoch said this as he continued to finger you. Your wetness covering his hand and dripping down your spread thighs. The sounds that filled the room were obscene, so telling of how much you wanted him. You came with a loud and long moan, squirting as he furiously thrust his fingers into you.

You could have wept from the pleasure of release but he did not give you a moment before his fingers left you to be replaced by his large cock pushing into your waiting pussy. Even after cumming you felt him stretching you slightly. The guttural moan that left you was muffled as Tenoch thrust his hips, pushing you into the bed,

The pace he set was brutal and told of the need he had been suppressing for hours. Impulsively he pushed his thumb firmly into your asshole and the feeling of fullness intensified. Your hands gripped the sheets desperately as he pounded into you. You were nearly delirious with pleasure as Tenoch bent over you, playfully biting at your shoulder.

"Earlier today, I wanted to fuck you in front of everyone. I wanted to show them how I could make you cum. How much pleasure I could bring you while they filmed it. I wanted to fill you with my cum and have you walk around with it dripping down your legs," His voice was rough as he painted the picture of your ravishment. Tenoch slowed then turned you over. He pushed you further up the bed, held your thighs and plunged back inside of you making you scream out in pleasure.

"I want you to cum on my cock this time, hermosa. I want to feel your walls tighten around me as you moan my name. I want you to look me in the eyes while you see god as I bring you the most pleasure you've ever felt," His words were punctuated by the snap of his hips. You were nearing another peak. When his thumb found your clit and circled it you were undone. You yelled his name as you came with jolting movements. But Tenoch held you down and continued to thrust into you.

The overstimulation sent you over into a less intense orgasm but it still had you seeing stars. His lips found yours just as you felt his hips stuttering. He groaned against your mouth as his seed spilled deep inside of you. Tenoch continued to kiss you softly, running his hands and fingertips along your torso and arms, your cheek and neck. He whispered against your skin, "Are you alright? Was I too rough?"

His gentle tone was unexpected after the words he had spoken earlier, but you still whispered against his lips, "I'm ok. I'm perfect. You're perfect."

You continued to share languid kisses until your panting died down. When Tenoch finally pulled out of you, you both moaned at the sensation. His cum dripped out of you and he carried you into the bathroom so you could clean up properly. He continued to kiss your temple, neck, shoulder, cheek whenever he had a chance. Like he still hadn't been able to touch you enough after all that you had done together.

Your eyes met in the mirror and you looked away shyly. You felt him set his chin on your shoulder, "Will you stay with me tonight? Or do I have to watch that sexy ass leave my room?"

You glanced up, meeting his eyes in the mirror again, "You want me to stay?"

The grin that crossed his face made your heart flutter. He kissed your cheek, "I'm far from done with you, mujer."

His hands found your hips and he gently pulled your naked body up against his front. You could already feel him getting aroused again. You pulled away and took his hand, leading the way back out of the bathroom, "Come to bed, Tenoch. I'm not done with you either."

...

DAMN BOI

I'm gonna take a nap now. That was a lot....hehe

reviews, comments, reblogs, and tags, are much appreciated and welcomed. share in my thirst.

[sqeyungs]

hunter, ft. ranpo edogawa cw. horror themes, cursing, mentions of blood & wounds a/n. been getting back into idv recently and i have ranpo's skin and ideas came to mind☝️

the weather was cold, yet somehow humid at the same time. maybe it was just the fact that you had been working your ass off trying to get those damn generators to run. with more than a couple zaps from misplaced wiring keeping you on your toes- not even to mention the one out for you two. the hunter.

the one that managed to rip both atsushi and dazai away from your grasps. it had been hours. hours of evading the entity that ranpo had felt so stumped on- and that wasn't exactly the most helpful place for the detective to be in this scenario.

with sweat dripping down your temple, you had only hoped the male was somewhere safe and far away from that monster right now. you weren't sure when you'd been separated from him, yet it happened, and it couldn't have been less than an hour at this point. luckily this would only be the second to last generator to finish. neither of you could help the fact that at sometimes hiding seemed better than running away from your foe. how you had even got yourself stuck in this situation; you weren't sure.

the only thing keeping your exhausted, not so clean body moving was finding ranpo and getting the hell out of this shit show. the ding went off when you finally finished up the current generator and as soon as it did you found yourself running far. you weren't in the best state, with more than just a couple cuts and bruises, but you couldn't stop now. not when you were so close.

it was when you approached a new, hardly touched generator that you heard twigs snap in the distance which made you flinch worse than you would rather admit. you cowered, crouching in a corner created by the space between the generator and the brick wall behind it, covering your mouth and closing your eyes tight as you could. you bit on your lip so hard you think you may be tasting blood now. you wouldn't be surprised. the weather along with how filthy you felt would be the explanation for your already chapped lips.

you couldn't die here... no. not when you don't know where your black-haired ally was or if he was safe. though, you couldn't manage to open your eyes or even move. you swore you almost yelled out a lung when you felt a hand cusp around your wrist, but that second hand was quick to keep your hands in a position where you couldn't open your mouth.

"don't make a sound," the voice whispered. the voice was one of familiarity, one that even at these times was able to calm your still growing nerves. your eyes opened with slight hesitation to see the one you've been so worried about. his eyes scanned over your features, and you swore you saw something welling up in his brown eyes which usually were closed or at least a little more enthusiastic than at the moment. "i'll fix everything. i always do, right?" he spoke, a fake chuckle following after his rhetorical question.

he looked around the surroundings before helping you off the muddy ground to gesture you to follow him as quietly as possible. as you walked more you soon heard the clanking of a nearby generator, one that was already halfway done! you would let out a sigh of relief if your teeth hadn't been so harshly clamped together. though you now felt more relieved, it soon dissipated due to the overwhelming pain all over your body. maybe it had been your adrenaline keeping you going, not your will.

without a sound from either of you, you two began to work on the last generator. you'd become much more paranoid yet much more careful in the process. not nearly as many misplaced cords or mess ups as before. not when you had ranpo at your side once more. where atsushi and dazai had went... you had only hoped they managed to find their way out. though you hadn't explicitly seen their demises you could only assume so from the sounds of terror you heard from the man-tiger earlier.

yet, you had a newfound hope. maybe it was just your reunion with the man but you wouldn't question it. you noticed your heartbeat suddenly increasing and it caused you to pause in your tracks. it was near.

"come on, we're almost done then we'll be safe, y/n," the boy tried to ease your nerves and coerce you back into working on the sparking generator. he knew why you paused in your tracks, in fact, he'd realized it was getting closer moments before you. he didn't let it stop him. you both needed to finish so you could get out and he couldn't let anything get in the way of safety.

you spotted it, out in the distance. your eyes began to well up in fear. no, no, no, no.. it couldn't happen again. you had already been locked up in that damn chair once which you were lucky enough to have atsushi at your service then but you couldn't go back. it could not happen again.

your heartbeat steadily increased as well as your rapid breathing and ranpo knew he wouldn't be able to snap you out of your trance while he was so focused on the generator. he took a deep breath, realizing just how close you two were. only ten more percent left to go and you were home free. he couldn't just ignore your rising panic though. "y/n."

you didn't even flinch at his call, not a single reaction. you were too focused on watching the hunter's every move since it would be after you at any second now. what then? what would you do? what if it-

"y/n," the detective repeated, now separated from the generator and pulling you to crouch down in front of him, hiding behind some barrel. "we're so close. i told you i would fix it, but you can't give up now. not when we're so close," he said. typically, he wasn't the type to give out free pep talks but for the first time he felt truly threatened in a life-or-death scenario and he wouldn't let said scenario take you away from him.

"i won't let it get to you again, but you have to help me."

[a-lonely-dunedain]

'hey, I'm not your pillow,' for character(s) of choice? :D

oh gosh I forgot about this one! I think I'll do this with Ethedis&Tossdir bc I've been very mean to Ethe in my discord lately so she deserves some cuddles with her bestie <3

...........after I chuck her down a minor plinko offscreen. Look, listen, how else am I going to get that sweet sweet hurt/comfort? she's FINE everything is FINE this is FLUFF

--------

“I think this is supposed to go the other way around...” Tossdir says quietly, wiping the dried blood and dirt from a small cut on Ethedis’ cheek with a damp cloth. He’d already finished patching up her more serious wound, thankful that Ethedis was conscious enough to guide him through most of it, and now all that's left is to tend to some minor cuts and scrapes.

Ethedis scoffs weakly "You're hardly the only one here the Iron Crown wants dead."

"No, but between the two of us, running headlong into danger is usually my job," he flashes a halfhearted smile, but it fades quickly as he returns his focus to her bandages, readjusting the ones on her arm that he had hastily tied earlier "and you’re far better at this part than I am…"

"You’re doing fine, Pîn-Toss." Ethedis gently assured, though Tossdir knew well that 'fine' was hardly comparable to what someone trained under Lord Elrond was capable of. He felt clumsy and out of place with such delicate work, only made worse by his nerves at the fact that his friend's life was in his hands at the time. He hoped Ethedis hadn't noticed how much his hands shook earlier.

"You’re usually just so careful… I never expected you to…" He trails off, too preoccupied in his worry to be annoyed at the nickname 'little-shrub' she had given him. He couldn't help but still be shaken by what happened. She was fine one moment, launching storms of embers and lightning at their foes, and then the next she was collapsed on the ground with an orcish blade in her side. She was barely responsive when he finally fought his way to her, only fully coming back to her senses after he managed to drag her back to their camp. The wound was, thankfully, not as deep as he initially feared, but ideally she should not be wounded at all.

"I try to be, though I’m unaccustomed to fighting so frequently. I overextended myself and paid the price, a mistake I do not plan to make again." Though admittedly, she didn't plan to make it this time, either. Calling upon natural powers would be taxing anywhere, and doubly so in a place like Angmar, but she had not yet learned how to accurately sense when she was at her limit. Until recently, she was a stranger the necessity. "I'm lucky you were with me, to think of what might have happened if I was alone…"

"Don't-" Tossdir winces at the thought, looking away "don’t even talk about that. Please."

"All right, I won't. But thank you all for saving me all the same"

"Not as if I had a choice, you know Corunir would have killed me if I let something happen to you." he says half-jokingly.

Ethedis snorts an almost-laugh "He wouldn't."

"He might."

"I think he's far too gentle for that," she says with a weary smile. "But in any case, you said we should not speak of such grim things..." Her head nodded slightly, as if she was having trouble keeping upright.

"Right," he gives her bandages one last look over, making certain he hadn't missed anything. "It looks like I've done all I can for now," he says after some hesitation "you should try to get some rest, I don't want you scaring me like that again any time soon..."

Ethedis nods again, this time in agreement, but instead of laying on her bedroll she leans forward and rests her head on his shoulder, her face nestled in the warm wool of his scarf.

"Hey, I'm not your-" Tossdir halfheartedly protests, but the words die on his lips. He hesitates a moment before gingerly putting an arm around her "...Alright, fine." Ethedis says nothing in response, but wears a small contented smile.

He carefully adjusted to a more comfortable position, with his back against the cliff their camp was set under, keeping his cloak wrapped snugly around the two of them. Soon enough, it seemed that Ethedis had fallen into sound sleep, the corners of her lips still turned in a slight smile. Tossdir just breathed a quiet sigh of relief, at least her injury didn't seem to be bothering her much. Maybe he had done a better job tending it than he'd given himself credit for.

Tossdir didn't sleep much that night, instead dutifully keeping watch over his friend, although it was probably unnecessary as Ethedis' raven friends were already tasked with guarding the camp and waking them if anyone came near. Still, Tossdir felt better keeping watch himself, maybe he was unable to protect her earlier today, but at least like this, he felt as if he could.

And besides, he never really trusted those birds anyway.

[cloudninetonine]

Yandere koridai and courage drabble?

“No! (Name)!”

“There’s too much blood, we need to get them to a healer-”

“Quickly- QUICKLY!”

“Come on cutie, you gotta stay awake-”

“Stay…..no!....(name)....”

There’s a silence over the entire room, not a joyful soul in sight.

Your body isn’t moving under the touch of the Impa, still and quiet much like everyone else as she works over you gently, making sure not further to rustle the wound decorating your neck, stained red with your blood. Potions were harder to come by in these times, and fairies could only do so much- Sprite looked broken when her efforts yielded only so little, especially with such an intimidating slash.

It was a blessing from the Goddess that you had even made it this far.

Courage and Koridai had certainly thought it was the end, watching the leader of the bandits slice so deep into the side of your neck in a moment of pure desperation, running away with the first spurt of blood and the dropping of your body.

You fell like a sack of potatoes, heavy and unmoving then suddenly, there weren’t heroes, but those children once again facing the dark lord as they rushed over with screams of your name.

“I’m not sure what sort of turn they will take.” Impa’s words had only shot peril through the hearts of them all, Wisdom’s face that of heartbreak as she watched her handmaiden stand. “A wound like this usually ends with certain death-”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a healer?” Courage snapped and his princess flustered angrily at his tone. "Why can't you do your job and heal-"

"Link!" Wisdom cried, disgusted with his behaviour. "Impa is trying her best, don't be so-"

"Oh, don't get me started on you, princess. You're the whole reason (Name)'s in this mess to begin with, if you hadn't been so demanding, making them some sort of maid, they wouldn't have been in this predicament-"

His steps were deadly as he pushed on, the Princess slowly backing up in a confused fear as each word was spat from his mouth like acid, burning and cruel as he nearly cornered her. 

"-This is- Your. Fault."

Oh, he was mad- no, furious in every way possible. He blamed her, he blamed the culprit, he blamed the circumstances, he blamed the goddess for such a thing to happen to you. He wanted justice and he wanted it now, he didn't care who he needed to deal with for it to come to fruition, Courage would get his revenge no matter what it took.

Wisdom's back had finally met the wall, a nervous sweat decorating her brow when Koridai's hand had finally pressed against his chest, face stern as he looked at the brunette, similar anger decorating his eye.

"Step back, guard, before you do something you'll regret."

It was a tense moment, the staredown between two equally strong heroes. Men who had gone to hell and back for their country fought off hoards of monsters and bore the magic of the Goddesses certainly wouldn’t back down, nor would their fight be a small one, so as the tension continued to rise Widsom felt herself shrink further into her corner in a confused fear.

Courage was her friend, Link was her friend, and he wouldn’t hurt her…right?

Groan.

Heads snapped towards your direction, your face pinched in pain as your body tried to readjust your position, a broad pain blooding in the région of the wound.

Anger was replaced with worry and with a single last glare, Courage wandered over to your side to pull up your blanket and brush the stray hairs out of your eyes.

Impa and Koridai were the ones to lead Wisdom out of the room, still shaky from the last few moments as the door to your room was finally closed, the face of the older hero apologetic as he gently grasped the shoulders of the young princess. The spark in his eyes was convincing enough for the woman to listen, his words quiet as he spoke,

“I’m sorry, princess, you shouldn’t have been subjected to such a scene.” Wisdom went to speak but he shushed her, bringing her into his arms and rubbing soothing circles into her back, body relaxing into him, “My brother in spirit is facing inner turmoil, so please excuse his actions, but I’ll make sure to set him straight- I promise.”

“I-I just- he’s never acted so cruelly.”

Koridai held her a little tighter, “Once again, inner turmoil, makes us do things we wouldn’t usually do.”

Another moment passed and the hero finally pulled away, squeezing the princess’ shoulders in a reassuring way. “Why don’t you leave me to talk with him for a while? I’ll bring the man back to his senses.”

“I-” She stumbled, wanting to fight before ultimately sighing. “Alright.”

Impa led her down the hallway of the main rooms, the man waving them away with a kind smile.

That instantly dropped as soon as they had turned the corner, turning back to the door and slipping into the room quietly, eyes falling onto Courage still leaned over you with his hand holding his.

“How stupid can you be, guard?” The brunette’s glare was dark, scalding eyes pierced onto his form as he wandered closer, waving his hands as more words dripped from his mouth, venom to the other's ears in his moment of melancholy. “Threatening the princess? Did that fight make you lose a few marbles? Had you not been her friend I’m positive you would have been hanging from your neck by now for disrespecting her highness-”

“It was her fault-”

“And you think I don’t know that?”

The tone shift wasn’t expected. Not even an inch was given to the sudden darkness hanging from Koridai’s words, Courage turning to look upon the man with his lip turned down, eyes ablaze with a rage that matched his own- there was an evil over his face, one he recognised because he had seen it in the mirror.

“A stupid wench, to think they got them because of her-” Koridai gently moved his hand against their cheek, a soft stroke that made their lips twitch into a smile. “It boils my blood.”

Courage gave a confused blink “But you-”

“I would prefer to protect the one I love in my physical form- I don’t want to be hung like a witch.” He hissed, scowl pointed towards him. “Something you could have been facing had you not shut your mouth. The princess may be your friend and you may be the hero but that doesn’t stop you from facing the consequences of disrespecting royalty- I will not have you dying when there is still much to be done.”

The brunette paused at those words, watching as the blonde wandered towards the window, staring out into the distance as the sun set on the Kingdom of Hyrule.

“What needs to be done?”

The huff that Koridai released was an annoyed one, eyes rolling as he glared back at the man with a face that showed the answer was obvious.

“We’re going to find that bandit- and make him regret messing with what’s ours.”

….Courage’s face morphed into a sadistic smirk. “Now you’re speaking my language, fisherman.”

[prismatica-the-strange]

My Heart is an Open Wound | Something I Can't Abide

Warnings: 18+, none that I can think of

Dove's Grandmother offers a precious heirloom to her granddaughter's lover

Word count: 1.2k

Flightless Bird, American Mouth (Wedding Version) by Iron and Wine | Dividers by @sweetparty

Lestat adores these cloudy days. While he may be up long before usual, he wouldn't give this up for anything.

Dove is sat on the floor with her cousin's youngest stood between her legs, the little one hasn't even taken off his raincoat as he excitedly shows her his new monster truck toy.

Lestat himself is lounging behind them on the couch, watching her ask questions and amuse the four-year-old. But his attention is suddenly stolen by her grandmother, Maria, in the next room, calling his name and waving him over.

He gingerly rises and walks over, stopping just past that doorway.

"I have something for you," She says quietly, crooking her finger for him to come closer.

He pauses for a moment, glancing back at Dove before leaning close.

"This," She twists off one of her rings and holds it up, "Was my grandmother's wedding ring. I see the way you look at her and how you are with each other. I want you to take this so you can propose to her."

Before he can say anything she takes his hand in hers and closes his fingers around the trinket.

"Propose? I..." He lets out a breathy laugh, "I thought such things went to the eldest or first married."

"I want Dove to have it," She says, squeezing his hand, "I've always wanted Dove to have it."

He's genuinely touched she'd trust him with this and he looks back out at his love, smiling softly at the sight of her laughing, "I don't even know if she wants to marry me."

It's a silly thing to say, she's all but promised herself to him forever already, but to make it official? The thought of putting himself in such a vulnerable position by asking outright terrifies him.

"Of course she does," Maria insists, pulling his attention back to her, "She's different with you. More confident."

Her shakey hand reaches up to touch his cheek, "You make her the happiest I've seen her in years."

To say the bulk of her family hadn't been welcoming is an understatement. He quickly realized that every decision she made had to be scrutinized and mocked by her mother's sister and her family despite how clever it was or how happy it made her, even the people she cared for.

Maria on the other hand had been warm and receptive of him from the moment he moved into the apartment. Going so far as encouraging Dove to give him a chance in the first place.

His own family had been a mess of it's own, so to have this woman so eagerly invite him to join her's moved him deeply, "Thank you."

"Just don't take too long to ask her," She teases, "I'm sure you'll know the right time."

He watches her shuffle out to towards the kitchen, standing there, staring at the ring in his hand.

It's gold with a dark red stone. He imagines it on his beloved's hand and a teary laugh forces itself from him, his chest warming at the thought.

"Teddy?" Doves voice calls from the living room. He slides the ring in his pocket and wipes his eyes.

"Yes, my love?" He grasps the doorframe and leans out, smirking at her.

"Just wondered where you wandered off to."

The little boy runs off when he strides over, wary of him, like most of his family.

"I never stray far from you," He says, pulling her up next to him.

She smiles against his lips when he kisses her.

She's asleep in his arms, his little mortal. His sweet, darling Dove, breathing softly against his chest as they lay in his coffin. She doesn't always sleep with him there, needing room to stretch out from time to time.

The lid is open, letting a soft breeze wrap around them. The sun is barely high enough in the sky to filter into the valley, but it's still late for him.

His gaze flickers over to the wardrobe where, three months ago, he safely tucked the ring away from any curious eyes.

He tenses at the thought of asking her, of binding themselves beyond this, what they already have.

"Teddy?" Her soft murmur brings him back to her, "Too tight."

He loosens his grip on her, letting her adjust in his hold.

"Mon Cher?"

She hums in response, nuzzling closer to his chest.

"What are your thoughts on marriage?"

A beat of silence passes and he wonders if she's already fallen back asleep, but then she shifts, looking up at him, "Do you have a question for me?"

Her teasing makes him chuckle and he wraps her hair around his finger, "I suppose that all depends on how you answer the first one."

There's a seriousness to his voice that catches her off guard.

"Oh," She pauses for a moment, "Well... I can't say I haven't considered it."

Her fingers trace small shapes on his chest and he can feel the way her cheeks heat up.

"I've always loved wedding aesthetics," She admits, "The dresses, the flowers, the music..."

He dares a look into her mind and sees flashes of white lace and pastel ribbons. Pink, yellow, and purple flowers gathered together with baby's breath.

"So it's something you've thought of quite a bit?"

She hides her warm face against his chest as if she were embarrassed, "More than I'd like to admit... Though I never imagined I'd actually get the chance."

His jaw clenches. How could someone as caring and beautiful as her think she'd be alone forever?

"Sweet one..." His hand tilts her face up to look at him. His heart, his gorgeous angel.

She shrugs and looks up at him with sleepy eyes, "Just how I was raised."

He carefully slides out from under her, thin robe fluttering behind him as he walks over to the wardrobe.

She rests her chin next to her arm on the edge of the coffin, watching him.

"That is something I can't abide," He says, swallowing hard.

Her eyes go wide when he turns back to her and drops to one knee, holding a ring toward her with an anxious look, "Dove Clarke, will you-"

"Yes!" She leaps from the coffin, throwing herself into his arms and he freezes before letting out a relieved laugh.

"Yes?" He asks, pulling back to look at her, "Mon coeur, I didn't even get to finish asking."

She pulls him against her lips and he smiles into the kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you," He breathes.

There's wetness on his cheeks and he's not sure if he's crying or she is.

"Would you like to see the ring?"

"Huh?" She pulls away and he sees her red, puffy eyes as she tries to wipe her tears away, "Oh! Yes!"

He takes her hand and slips the ring on her finger, grin faltering when she goes silent.

"What's wrong, my love?"

"This is my grandma's," Her bottom lip trembles, "How-"

"She gave it to me. She wanted you to have it."

Silence.

"Oh."

Her voice cracks when she finally speaks, tears dripping down her cheeks.

"Mon coeur," He coos, pulling her close again.

And, in the quiet of the morning, they held each other their future a wellspring of possibilities.

[onomatopoetic101999]

Chapter Six: Irruption

Chapter Seven: Illumination

Ignis Fatuus Masterlist

------

Irruption: a violent incursion or invasion

------

TW: This chapter includes violence, blood, wounds, and hospitals. If any of these things bother you, skip to the end for a summary!!

------

You open the door to your shared room about 15 minutes after you've run away. Sam is there waiting, and he all but leaps up from his chair to meet you.

The tear tracks along your cheeks are obvious, and when Sam hesitantly reaches out to wipe them away, you let him. When you look up to meet his eyes, your heart twists. He looks devastated at how upset you are, and you try to find it in your heart not to blame him. He didn't do anything wrong; his plan worked, didn't it? Your sudden realization wasn't his fault; he didn't know any better.

You try to smile, to stop him from worrying, but it fails miserably. You just close your eyes and bury your head against his chest instead, unable to bear looking at him now that you've realized the predicament you're in.

He wraps his arms around you immediately, and the tension eases from his shoulders, as if he's relieved you're letting him touch you at all.

You'd ask yourself again how you hadn't realized your feelings until now, but you guess it doesn't matter anymore. He squeezes you, burying his face in your hair, and you try to remind yourself that he isn't doing it romantically. You take advantage of the closeness regardless, wrapping your arms around his waist to squeeze him right back.

After a few moments, Sam raises his head just enough to whisper.

"Dar-," he cuts himself off and starts over, beginning with your name instead. His voice is pained.

"I'm so sorry I forced you to do that. I should have thought of a different solution, or let you hide and get caught myself," he leans back then, raising his hands to cup your cheeks so you meet his eyes.

"After this is all over, I'll leave you alone, okay? I promise, you won't have to see me unless it's absolutely necessary."

You blink. What in the galaxy did he mean? You wouldn't have to see him...?

You analyze the look in his eyes. He seems overwhelmed with guilt, but why? Unless he... unless...

You grasp his wrists and pull them away from you, stepping back.

"You knew? You knew and you did it anyway?"

He knew you were in love with him and still kissed you? Still teased you the way he had the entire mission? 'I'm so sorry' wasn't good enough for a betrayal like that. No wonder he felt guilty. You run your hand through your hair and turn towards the bed, grabbing your pajamas before storming towards the bathroom. How could he?

You toss a, "yeah, keeping your distance would be nice," as you pass him, but when you slam the bathroom door, you again miss his expression, a confused look on his face.

--------

The next day is filled with tension. You wake up in a similar position as the previous mornings, but you get out of bed immediately, not caring if you wake him up.

He tries to catch your attention, but you ignore him.

He'd known you loved him. He'd known and still chose to make out with you? To hold you against him and sigh your name and call you 'Baby' and...

This whole week must have been a sick game to him. You knew he was older than you, you were shocked for the few moments you thought he returned your feelings, but you had never known him to be cruel. It was a complete invasion of a relationship you had long considered precious. A complete betrayal of who you thought he was.

He gets up with a defeated sigh and walks to the bathroom to get changed.

When he gets out, you brush past him without a word to get changed yourself, fuming.

You pack up to leave in silence and only put on a happy, loving persona when you go to the front desk to check out.

The same woman from the week before beams at you, either unable to sense the tension or too polite to address it.

"Did you two have a good vacation? I hope everything was to your liking!" Your smile is strained, but you agree that it was.

It isn't her fault Sam's a scumbag.

After checking out, you board your ship and start the trek back to Jemison.

It takes a few grav jumps, but you make it to orbit fairly quickly. You're thankful that at least the end of this horror show of a weekend had been peaceful. Just when you move to start the landing sequence, however, the alarm lights of your ship begin to blare, the words "ALERT. UNAUTHORIZED DOCKING." appearing in big red letters across your navigation screen.

You unbuckle and stand as quickly as you can before running towards the back of the ship where your docking station is. You crouch behind one of your storage boxes and take out your pistol, readying yourself for a fight. Sam is crouched behind the crate across from you. He nods grimly when you meet his eyes.

The airlock blocking the unknown ship from reaching you opens with a hiss and 8 Crimson Fleet pirates land on your deck with a clang. You immediately aim and fire, taking one out with a bullet to the head. That left 7. Sam stands and lets off two shots of his shot gun, each one taking out a pirate. 5. You stand from your hiding place again, and take out 2 more in rapid succession with a shot to the chest and the neck, respectively. 3. The pirates are returning fire, but their aim isn't as accurate as yours. Still, a broken clock is right twice a day. One of the pirates shoots, and the bullet zips past you, grazing your arm and leaving you bleeding. You let out a pained yell, and fire a shot back, taking him out. That left only 1. You take a breath and aim carefully again before shooting. The bullet hits its mark, and the last pirate falls. 0. You start to step forward to see what valuables the pirates had on them, but a pained wheeze coming from Sam's direction stops you.

He's on the ground, hand pressed tightly against his stomach, back against the ship wall. He's breathing, but each inhale is shallow. Scarlet blood is already seeping out onto the surrounding floor. Sam was... he was...

You dive forward, landing hard on your knees. You move his hands and see an enormous gash in his side. You rip your jacket off and push against the wound as hard as you can, trying to stop the blood flow. He winces at the added pressure. When you mutter an apology, Sam shakes his head at you.

"No... I'm sorry, Darlin'. I heard you get hurt and I got distracted. I sh... Should have paid better attention. The snake had just enough time to throw a knife before you got to him." Every word is stunted, every syllable pained.

You lean up to press a kiss to his forehead and apply more pressure to his side. "Don't try to talk, okay? Everything is gonna be alright. I just need to find an emergency kit" You push hard on your jacket, and when he sucks in harshly through his teeth, you wince with him.

You can tell he's lost a lot of blood; his face is getting paler by the second. An emergency kit is the only thing that could save him now, so you leave him to sprint to the crate behind you and grab one, ripping it open while you run so you're able to apply it the second you're back at Sam's side.

You remove your jacket, now soaked in Sam's blood, and press the kit to the wound. When it starts to knit Sam's skin back together, you look up to see how Sam is doing.

His eyes are lidded and hazy. When you see them start to close, you grab his face in both hands, shaking him back awake. His eyes flutter back open, and he looks at you with dazed eyes.

"You have to stay awake for me, okay? I've gotta let the emergency kit work but then I'm gonna get you to the New Atlantis Reliant Medical. Please, just... Just stay awake for me."

It isn't until Sam sluggishly raises a hand to wipe at your cheek that you realize you're crying. You know he's getting his blood on your face, but you couldn't care less. You cover his hand with yours to keep his palm there.

You keep talking, trying to get him to focus.

"Think about Cora. You don't want to leave your little girl here by herself, do you? You've gotta stay awake for her and the rest of Constellation. You're the heart of us, you gotta come home."

The emergency kit takes about 3 minutes to fully stitch Sam's wound up, and you talk to him the entire time, shaking him by the shoulders every time he starts to drift again.

When the emergency kit finally falls to the floor, the job finished, you sigh in relief. You don't want to leave his side, but you know he needs better care than what you have onboard. You run over to the navigation table and set the ship onto autopilot so it will land itself on Jemison without you guiding it. You grab the hand held communications allay as well before running straight back to Sam.

You sit on the floor next to him, and he immediately shifts, slowly and weakly moving to lay down, resting his head in your lap. You let him sleep, knowing he's out of immediate danger now that the emergency kit was finished. You run your fingers through his hair with one hand while setting up the distress beacon to broadcast the need for medical aid with the other, humming to him.

You're in the same position when the medics board. He's asleep, and their scans say he's stable. They try to tell you to stay behind, find another way to the hospital, but you refuse. You aren't leaving him for a second.

You sit next to him the entire ride there, holding his hand in both of yours, trying to remember how to breathe. They begin a synthetic blood transfusion the second he's in his own room, and you don't leave then either. Medics try to pull you away when they see your still bleeding arm, but you just grab Sam's hand tighter and insist they let you stay. You dig your free hand's fingers into the mattress next to his body as they stitch up your wound, but you still don't let go of his hand.

You don't leave his side once, barely glancing up when the rest of Constellation comes. Sarah tries to convince you to lay down, but you refuse. Cora sits with you for a while, the only one able to make you look away from him for a moment to stumble and cry your way through an apology, before going back to the Lodge with the rest of the group to sleep for the night. You remain unmovable. You aren't leaving until he wakes up.

You don't know exactly how long you stay there waiting. Sam keeps turning in his sleep at random intervals, clearly suffering. The hospital gave him all of the pain medicine they could, but even New Atlantis's most advanced tech couldn't completely numb a recently stitched wound. When the sky has fully darkened, you feel your eyelids start to droop. You fight it as long as you can, but eventually you succumb to sleep, arms resting on Sam's hospital bed, his hand still tight in yours.

------

TW Free Summary: Reader returns from crying, and she misunderstands Sam, assuming he knows about her feelings and had teased her all week anyway. They check out of the hotel and start heading back to the Lodge. When they arrive over Jemison, Scarlet Fleet pirates board the ship. Sam and Reader kill them all, but one of them severely wounded Sam. Reader stabilizes him with an Emergency Kit and then gets him to the hospital. The chapter ends with her asleep next to his bed, holding his hand.

------

Chapter Seven: Illumination

[wiltingdecay]

Something's not right about that child

Defending herself from a vicious attack, seven-year-old Ruadhán Ní Loinsigh discovers that she may be far stranger than anyone around her had ever realised. (Word count: 5,055)

Trigger warnings: physical and verbal bullying, violence, ableism and ableist language including the use of the r-slur, all of these towards a young autistic child, animal death

A/N: Finally, the Rowan backstory is here! This is part one of (at the moment) a three part series, covering the events leading up to their arrival in Vesuvia for the first time. I can't promise that parts two and three will be out soon, but I've been cooking them up for a long time now and I'm excited to share them! As indicated by the content warnings, this one is quite heavy, born from me partially projecting my experiences growing up as an autistic child in an ableist society. If any of this hits too close to home, I absolutely wouldn't blame you for skipping this one. It was difficult to write and even more difficult to share. That being said, if you do read, I really hope you enjoy.

A part of Ruadhán - the part that wasn't already occupied by her struggle to break free - thought that this wasn't a particularly fair fight. There were three of them, for starters, and only one of her. Aside from that, Ciarán and Diarmuid had been ten for months now, and their big sister Eimear was nearly twelve. Ruadhán hadn't even been seven for a week.

Then again, she'd be an idiot to expect fairness from any of them by now.

The three of them must have been lying in wait for her to show up; one second Ruadhán thought she was alone, and then the next they were on her, faster than she could react. She hadn't even had the time to try and run before Eimear had tackled her into the muck, getting her clean clothes that Saoirse had only finished drying that morning all dirty. Before she could wriggle free, Diarmuid had wrenched her arms behind her back so hard she'd screeched in pain, and Ciarán had taken hold of her flailing, kicking legs by the ankles. They'd lifted her up, leaving her able to do nothing but squirm and grunt into empty air. When struggling proved futile, she tried screaming for help, but they were too far up the cliffs by now for anyone in the village to hear, the sound snatched away by the bitingly cold wintertime winds.

Ruadhán knew exactly why they had ambushed her. For her seventh birthday, Da had gifted her with a necklace that had once belonged to her mother, Síofra. An oval locket embedded with a smooth piece of bluish-green marble that was ribboned with gold, it was beautiful in its simplicity. She'd been so pleased with it that she'd worn it every day since, proudly showing it off at school and delighting in the jealously of her classmates - and she'd especially delighted in rubbing bullies like Eimear's noses in it. At the time, she'd felt positively gleeful about all of the attention it had brought her.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She should've known that it would all blow up in her face in the end, just like it always did.

"What should we do with her?" She heard Diarmuid ask from somewhere behind her head. She took a small amount of satisfaction in the strain in his voice, his difficulty in keeping a tight enough grip on her arms as she tried to pull them free. Her head jerked back, butting him in the stomach; she almost smiled at the quiet grunt of pain he let out, but she wasn't able to put enough power behind it to hurt him properly.

Eimear stood over her, looking - leering - down on her, like a predator over its prey. Ruadhán glared right back, her teeth bared in a snarl as a growl rumbled in her chest. She fought to keep a brave face on even when Eimear wound her fist into her hair and yanked, hard and fast enough to bend her neck back and make tears spring to her eyes.

"Take her up the cliffs," Eimear said dismissively, finally letting go of her hair. "We can throw her off after I get the necklace off her. Keep her from following us."

Ruadhán's heart started to hammer painfully against her ribs. Down by her feet, Ciarán started to splutter.

"Eimear, we can't!" He protested. Ruadhán wasn't surprised; Ciarán was always a lot nicer to her when his siblings weren't around. "She might drown! You said we wouldn't actually hurt her, you said- owww!"

He was cut off with a pained grunt as Eimear punted him in the belly, almost making him drop Ruadhán's legs in the process.

"Oh, would you ever give over! One of the little cliffs, you gobshite, not the big one. People go diving off'a them all the time." She snorted derisively, giving Ciarán another shove for good measure before turning back to Ruadhán with an ugly sneer. "We're hardly gonna drown her. Just 'cause she's retarded doesn't mean she can't swim."

Ruadhán snarled again as she gave another violent wriggle, kicking and flailing with all the strength she could muster, but try as she might, there was nothing she could do to prevent it when Eimear grabbed her underneath her jaw and forced her head backwards. Forcing Ruadhán to look up into her eyes.

"Though I'll tell you what, I am in a pretty good mood today," she said with a grin that was almost as sickening as the soothing tone she'd adopted. "Maybe if you ask me very, very nicely, Ruadhán, I might just take your necklace now and let you go."

A yawning pit of dread opened up in Ruadhán's belly. This was a trap, it had to be. If she fell for it, the consequences would be disastrous.

"It's alright, Ruadhán. All you have to say is "Please, Eimear, please let me go. You can have my necklace. I promise I won't tell anyone", and we'll leave you go home right now." Eimear's grin, all big teeth and pink gums, was practically splitting her face in two by now. She was clearly having the time of her life. "That's all you have to do. Even a retard can do something as small as that, right, Ruadhán? You can say that one little sentence back to me?"

No, she couldn't. And Eimear knew she couldn't. Her trap had been set, and now all she had to do was wait for it to be sprung.

Eimear's hand squeezed her neck sharply, just long enough to make Ruadhán gasp for breath. "Go on. Say it."

And the worst part was that even though Ruadhán knew it was a trap, she had no choice but to take the bait regardless. Her freedom, an opportunity to escape from here unscathed, was on the line. She'd be a fool not to take it.

She licked her dry lips. Tried to swallow past the hardened lump of anxiety that had formed at the base of her neck, barely allowing her to breathe.

"P..." She tried, she really did, but it was like her throat was full of burrs and brambles, snagging and clinging onto her voice and refusing to let it go. No matter how hard Ruadhán tried to force the words out, they stubbornly stayed stuck behind her teeth. She licked her lips again, started over. "P-puh..."

Eimear's hand tightened on her neck, fingers digging painfully into her jaw, and Ruadhán knew with a sinking heart that she had failed the challenge she'd been set.

"Puh," Eimear mimicked, her voice high-pitched and nasty. "Puh, puh, puh!" Spittle sprayed across Ruadhán's face with each mocking syllable from her thin, sneering lips. "Gods, Ruadhán, how thick are you? Even our baby sister isn't as stupid as you are, and she can't even use a toilet yet. But at least she can fuckin' talk."

"D'y'know what, I bet Ruadhán can't even wipe her own arse, either," Diarmuid snickered. "I bet she gets Saoirse to do that for her as well."

All three of them guffawed, and Ruadhán burned with humiliation, her face as red by now as the fox she'd been named for. She thrashed under their hold, opened her mouth to let out another desperate scream, and got nothing but another grip around the neck from Eimear for her trouble. Her shriek cut off abruptly with a guttural choke, and Eimear gave her one last threatening squeeze for good measure before finally releasing her.

"G'won, lads, let's bring her up already. I'm sick of the sight of her."

And so Ruadhán was carried further up the cliffs by her arms and legs, as if the three siblings were hunters and she a deer they had freshly killed. With Ruadhán's head hanging the way it was, she could only watch as the ground beneath their feet became less grassy and more rocky, until they finally arrived on the clifftop.

It was as Eimear said; they were only on one of the littler cliffs, the "baby" cliffs as the older children in the village would call them. People would dive off of these all the time during the height of summer, enjoying the coolness of the ocean below.

But this was not one of the warm, sunny, summer months, it was approaching the middle of December, the wind and the waves crashing against the cliff-faces below bitingly cold. Eimear had been right, Ruadhán could swim, but what if she ended up dragged under by the current, the freezing water stealing the strength from her body and drowning her before she could struggle back to shore? What if they didn't throw her out far enough, and she broke her arm, or leg, or worse on one of the rocks near the bottom? What if, what if, what if-?

"No no no," she gasped desperately, flailing and thrashing with renewed vigour, flapping her arms as hard as she could against Diarmuid's grip and kicking her feet out at Ciarán. Her pleas rapidly increased in pitch, from a panicked mumble to a last-ditch, frenzied scream. "NO NO NO NO NO NO NO-!"

Eimear seized hold of her face, hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her cries. "Shut-" She squeezed as hard as she could, fingers and thumb digging in harshly on either sides of Ruadhán's face. "The fuck up! I gave you a chance to talk already, you're not getting another one. I'm sick to the back teeth of your screeching." She used her grip to push Ruadhán's head backwards, exposing her throat. From the angle she was forced into, Ruadhán couldn't see Eimear reach for it, but she felt when the chain of her necklace scraped against her skin as Eimear dragged it forwards, searching for the clasp to open it.

To steal her necklace. To steal her mother's necklace. To steal the necklace that Da had given her for her birthday, pressed it into the palm of her tiny hand and curled her fingers around it protectively, telling her with tears in his eyes how important it was that she have it, and that she keep it safe. (Da almost never cried, so Ruadhán knew it must have been the truth).

Ruadhán felt herself growing hot with anger with the indignity, the cruelty, the violation of it all. Eimear didn't even want the necklace. She just didn't want Ruadhán to have it. After she took it and Ciarán and Diarmuid pitched Ruadhán into the sea, if anyone were to tell on her, she'd probably end up throwing the necklace into a ditch or down a well just so nobody could prove it.

There was no way Ruadhán was going to be able to escape. It would be a cold day in Hell before she had a chance of breaking free of the grip of three other children, all of them so much older and stronger than she was. No matter what she did, this would end with them throwing her to the piercing winds and the mercilessness of the ocean, like a rat tossed into a bucket to drown.

But she would be well and truly damned if she let a horrible, sneaky little bitch like Eimear Ní Dubhuir take her mother's necklace without a fight.

So she snarled. She thrashed. She jerked her head backwards as sharply as she could, breaking Eimear's grip on her face. And when she moved to clamp her hand back over Ruadhán's mouth, a deeply irritated expression twisting her face ("Oh, don't fucking start that shit again-!"), Ruadhán was ready for her. As soon as it was close enough, Ruadhán reared forwards and bit down hard on Eimear's hand, her jaws closing around it with a snap.

Ruadhán's baby teeth hadn't come in quite right, and the small handful of adult teeth she'd since grown were even worse; they were crooked and snaggled and ugly. But beyond their looks, they were strong and they were sharp, tearing through Eimear's skin to sink into her flesh and refusing to let go.

The reaction was well worth the hell she was sure to pay later. Eimear shrieked like a newborn baby, all her swagger and pride gone in an instant. She tried to yank her hand free, but Ruadhán snarled and clung to it like a rabid dog, clenching her jaw as tightly as she could, her teeth digging in so deeply she was sure they would soon reach bone. Even as Eimear wailed in pain, tears running down her cheeks as she tried over and over again to wrench her hand free, even as Ruadhán's mouth filled with the salty, metallic taste of blood, she refused to be shaken off; her anger towards her assailants and the satisfaction of her revenge fueled the fire she felt building within her, aiding her strength to hold on. Her whole body felt white-hot with rage, even hotter than the blood that was starting to drip down the corner of her mouth; it was as if she was burning up from the inside out.

After what could've only been a few seconds (certainly not long enough for her liking), Ruadhán felt a hand wind tightly into her long, thick curls and tug backwards, hard. She tried valiantly to hang on, but with Eimear pulling from once side and Diarmuid from the other, it was only a matter of time before her head was sharply wrenched away from Eimear's hand, finally releasing it from the vice-like grip of Ruadhán's jaws. Diarmuid held onto her even as Eimear staggered a step or two backwards, clutching her forearm and staring down at her hand with a mixture of horror and revulsion as it twinged in pain. It was smeared all over with a mixture of blood and drool, already bruised an ugly shade of reddish-purple around the ring of ragged, oozing indentations in the perfect shape of Ruadhán's teeth.

Ruadhán grinned at the sight, her ugly, bloody teeth on prideful display. She hoped it would scar. She hoped Eimear would never be able to look at her hand again without remembering what Ruadhán ní Loinsigh was capable of.

"Eimear..." Ciarán's voice shook when he addressed his sister, his touch gentle on her shoulder. "Are you-"

Eimear's head snapped up. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, but they did absolutely nothing to disguise the pure, unadulterated hatred within them when she fixed her gaze on Ruadhán.

"You..." Her voice trembled with equal parts rage and pain as she took a step closer. "I'm going to fucking kill you, you-!"

Ruadhán never found out what choice insult Eimear was going to use next. As soon as she was close enough, she pursed her lips and spat a mouthful of blood and saliva directly into her face.

Eimear froze up. Her uninjured hand twitched erratically by her side before she brought it to her face, scrubbing harshly as she shuddered with revulsion. She breathed heavily through clenched teeth, her face and neck blotching a deep red with anger. Ruadhán barely had time to brace herself before Eimear swung her hand back down, slapping her so hard across the face that her head snapped sideways.

"You stupid-!" Slap. "Retarded-!" Slap. "Little-!" Slap. "CUNT!" Slap.

By the final slap, Ruadhán's face was aflame with sharp, white-hot pain that nearly rivaled the anger burning in her chest. She could barely hear Eimear's screams - "I'll do your Da a favour, we all know he fucking hates you!" - above the buzzing in her ears, but she certainly felt it when Eimear wrenched her out of Diarmuid's grip and threw her to the ground, the impact knocking all the breath out of her lungs. In an instant Eimear was upon her. Ruadhán's eyes widened with horror as the realisation of what was about to happen dawned on her, panic seizing her mind just as Eimear seized her throat.

Everything after that was a blur. Ruadhán was vaguely aware that Eimear was still screaming obscenities above her, that both Ciarán and Diarmuid were trying in vain to pull their sister off of her; all of it was lost in the rush of blood pounding in her head as Eimear's hands tightened around her neck, like she was trying to squeeze the life right out of her. She kicked, she thrashed, she gasped for breath; none of it did her any good. Her lungs were already burning.

Not just her lungs; every part of her was burning. The flame in her chest that had been lit by her anger had only been fanned by the satisfaction of getting her own back, then fueled again by her panic, and now it felt as though her whole body was ablaze. Her vision blurred, seemed to tint red at the edges, every ragged breath she struggled to take scorching her throat. Was this what it felt like to die? Was Eimear really going to kill her?

Desperation lacerated the sluggishness that panic had formed in her mind. Her arms were still free - in her blind rage, Eimear must have forgotten to secure them - and so she reached up, jabbing towards Eimear's eyes with her fingers and thumbs, but she couldn't reach, she couldn't reach, she couldn't reach, and now it was getting harder and harder to breathe, and her head felt so hot, the buzzing in her ears so loud, and everything she could see looked so blurry and so so red, she was sure she must really be dying... in one last desperate attempt to free herself, she grabbed at Eimear's jumper, hoping against hope that she could muster the strength to pull her off-

Her eyes widened. The relief she felt when Eimear let go of her throat and jumped off of her, screeching like a banshee, was muted; she barely even noticed it. Surely she must have been wrong. Surely she must have been hallucinating.

Surely she hadn't seen flames spring up beneath her hand where she had touched Eimear's cardigan, igniting the fabric like it was little more than dry straw.

She could do little more than stare in disbelief as she watched Eimear frantically tear the burning garment from her body, the skin underneath it red-raw and blistering, and throw it to the ground where it continued to burn up in unnatural red-gold flames. Even as the cream-coloured wool gradually reduced to little more than a pile of ashes, all Ruadhán could do was stare. She stared, and stared, and stared, and still none of it made sense.

Ruadhán was startled out of her reverie by a long, low, agonised moan from Eimear as the adrenaline of the situation clearly started to wear off, allowing the pain from her injuries to hit her in full-force. Diarmuid ran to her side, catching her by the elbow and supporting her just before she crumpled to the ground. Ciarán took a few slow, cautious steps backwards, his gaze fixed on Ruadhán with a mixture of anger and horror in his eyes.

"What..." His voice trembled with trepidation. "What the hell have you done?"

"Me?" Ruadhán would have asked incredulously if her voice was anywhere to be found. How could this possibly have been her fault? Indignantly she pushed herself up into a seating position, already vehemently shaking her head-

Only to stop dead when she looked down and saw two blackened scorch marks imprinted into the dirt and rock below her, one on either side of her body, and both in the perfect shape of her hands.

For a moment, time stood still. In that moment, Ruadhán took note of several other things. The fear in the eyes of all three siblings as they looked at her like she was a bomb about to go off. The way her whole body burned like she was sick with fever. The heavy, acrid smell of smoke in the air (it was in her nose, her throat, her eyes)...

The realisation that the smoke was coming from her.

Pouring out of her skin.

Her mouth.

Her eyes.

Her red, red eyes.

When she scrambled to her feet and bolted back down the cliffs, she left a trail of it behind her, lingering in the air for just a moment too long to be natural before it was lost to the winds.

The base of the cliff split off into two directions. One lead to the main path into the village, barely two minutes' walk away. The other lead to the forest; thick, dense woodland that one could get lost in for hours. Save for the road out of town that merchants sometimes took, the trees surrounded the town completely; along with the coastline, it gave the little village a feeling of seclusion, like it truly was isolated from the rest of the world.

And now, it would be the perfect place to hide.

Ruadhán ran like the devil itself was at her heels. The buzzing - crackling, she realised now - in her ears was so loud, she had no idea if the three she'd left on the cliffs were shouting after her; or worse, if they were chasing her. Even if they were, she didn't care anymore. All that mattered was getting far, far away from what she had just done. Before too long, the muck and grass under her feet had been replaced by a thick carpet of slippery moss, damp leaves, and scattered twigs that snapped  with every other step. Soon after, the foliage high over her head became so thick and dense the weak sunlight above could scarcely hope to penetrate it.

Still, Ruadhán ran. Even when brambles snagged her ankles and branches whipped welts into her face and arms, she kept running. If the unnoticed tree root sticking out of the ground hadn't sent her sprawling to the forest floor, perhaps she might have run forever.

Groaning, Ruadhán rolled onto her back, tears evaporating into steam on her scalding hot skin before they could roll down her temples. She brought her knee to her chest so that she could grasp her injured foot in both hands, almost reeling all over again at how hot they were even through her boots. It was a reflexive gesture; she barely cared about the pain. Her entire body hurt like nothing she had felt before. Her face and throat ached from everything Eimear had done, her hands and ankles covered in little stinging lacerations from her mad dash through the forest. Really, what was one more injury to add to the pile?

Alone with her thoughts, and at this point desperate to focus on anything other than how much everything hurt, Ruadhán allowed her mind to wander back to what had happened up on the cliffs. As much as she didn't want to believe it, it seemed undeniable that she had been the cause of the fire that had burnt Eimear. It flashed brightly once again in her mind's eye, its colours a deep, dark red and a contrasting warm gold, so unlike a fire lit by natural human hands. Each time she blinked, she  could see it burning there, lighting up the darkness behind her eyelids.

Eimear's screams rang out in her ears, and she shivered despite the heat of her body. Not out of guilt, and certainly not out of sorrow, but she did feel a deep, foreboding sense of regret at the thought of the inevitable consequences. Nobody would believe that she hadn't meant to do it. Nobody ever believed her.

Dread rapidly seeped in, making Ruadhán's body feel hot with panic all over again. She quickly pushed the thought out of her mind, taking deep breaths to calm herself down and turning instead to wondering how exactly she had done what she did.

She knew that magic existed, of course - everybody knew that. Magicians were hardly uncommon on Iniscrainn. They were as ancient as the country itself, if not older. The village even boasted its very own wise-woman; a grouchy old crone living in a cottage near the edge of the forest, who spent most of her time foraging ingredients for the potions she sold at the market. She knew that her mother had been a magician of sorts, as well, though she didn't know to what end - Ruadhán had never really known her, and neither Da nor Saoirse liked talking about her. Really, it wasn't all that surprising that Ruadhán seemed to have magic of her own.

Magic of her own...

Ruadhán thought back again to the cliffs, to how the three of them had backed away from her. They had all been so confident before, so willing to hurt her, to make her cry and beg for mercy, to punish her for the crime of existing in a way they deemed unacceptable. All of that had been gone after she'd started the fire. They had looked at her like she was something dangerous, a force to be reckoned with.

They had looked at her with fear.

And Ruadhán - bruised, tear-stained and terrified - had never felt more powerful.

A smile slowly curved her bloody lips. She wondered if she could do it again.

Now that she had stopped running, stopped panicking, she became aware of just how peaceful the forest around her was. Dim, dappled sunlight peeked through the treetops. Aside from the distant trill of birdsong, all was quiet. Ruadhán raised her hand up to the sky, surveying it from where she still lay on the ground. A few trails of blood ran down from the worst of the cuts. She watched as they trickled down her wrist, the stillness in the air allowing her to hear how they sizzled against her skin. She focused on the fire she felt burning in her chest, fueled now not by anger and desperation, but by pride; she took hold of it, grabbed it in both hands and pushed, imagining it travelling out from in between her ribs, past her shoulder, up her arm, and now she could feel it bright and hot and right there in the palm of her hand-

With a crisp snap-whoosh that pierced the silence around her like an arrow through a heart, a flame leapt to life in Ruadhán's cupped hand, as red-gold and brilliant and beautiful as the one that had saved her from Eimear. She couldn't help herself; she laughed with delight, the sound bold and bright as she marvelled at the sight of her magic taking shape and crackling merrily away.

Closing her fist, she extinguished the flame once more, content now with the knowledge that even though she would surely be punished for what she had done, nobody would ever dare to hurt her again.

And even if they did, she would make sure they lived to regret it.

She was just about to get back up, to go home where she could lick her wounds and recover from the rollercoaster that had been today in the comfort of her bed, when she heard birdsong ring out again, closer than it had been before. Tilting her head back to investigate, she smiled brightly again at the sight of a robin, perched on a tree branch not far above her head. Ruadhán loved animals, and quite unlike people, they always seemed to like her back. This delightfully round little fellow was no exception. It tilted its head curiously as it chirped at her, almost as if it were asking her what on earth she was doing down there.

"Fell over." She chuckled, albeit wincing slightly as she did; it hurt to speak, her voice hoarse and raspy. "Wanna help me?"

The robin let out another tittering trill, ruffling its feathers just a little - then, to her utter delight, it hopped from the branch it had been sitting on and swooped down through the air towards her. She uncurled her fingers again, allowing the robin to land neatly and nestle itself rather comfortably on her outstretched palm. Oh, it was just too cute for words. Ruadhán giggled, lifting her index finger so that she could gently stroke the soft red feathers on the little bird's chest-

By the time Ruadhán realised what was happening, it was already too late. One second her hand was cupped around the robin; the next it was holding little more than a charred mound of flesh, bone, and feather, the agonised screech the bird had let out as it died still ringing in Ruadhán's ears even as the flame she had created consumed its body whole.

At first, all Ruadhán could do was stare, her eyes and mouth wide in abject horror.

Then she screamed, the sound tearing her throat open and adding a metallic tang to the taste of smoke in her mouth. She flung the burnt corpse of the bird - or what was left of it, anyway - away from her, but still the flames in her hand continued to burn, continued to mock her, and no matter how many times she clenched and unclenched her fist, they wouldn't go away, they wouldn't go away, they wouldn't go away -

"I didn't mean it!" She cried out, tears streaming down her face, smoke and steam blurring her red-tinted vision. In a blind panic, she shook her hand back and forth in a desperate attempt to put the fire out. "I didn't, I, I didn't, I didn't mean it-!"

She repeated this mantra over and over again, until the words lost all meaning, until her voice quietened from an ear-splitting scream to the faintest of whispers. Somewhere along the line, the inferno created and housed by her body had died down, extinguished by perhaps her anguish, or simply her sheer exhaustion now that all the fight had left her.

Ruadhán wasn't sure how long she lay there on the forest floor, feeling cold and numb now with the absence of her magic. Even though she was tired, she kept her eyes wide open. She didn't want to close them anymore. Every time she did, she saw herself killing the robin. Saw herself burning Eimear.

Saw the monster that she really was.

It was dark by the time Ruadhán picked herself up, arms wrapped around herself as she slowly limped towards home. Whatever punishment was waiting for her there, she knew now that she deserved it.

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Previous - Chapter 2 - Next - Series Masterlist - ao3

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags/Warnings: romance, smut, light angst, strangers to lovers to disgustingly in love, medic!reader

Word Count: 25k

tag list: @kurxxmi , @jorbinx

Just before the mission to retake Wall Maria...

After the power of the royal family changed hands to Historia Reiss, bastard daughter of Rod Reiss, (Y/N) took two weeks off from work to sit and ponder how, exactly, the world had turned itself on its ear in so little time. 

Before that, she and Levi had been seeing each other semi-regularly. When their schedule allowed, they'd have lunch here, a quickie at hers there, and a few interspersed meetings and the exchanging of letters in between, but nothing too terribly serious. They enjoyed each other's company, and the sex was fantastic; it was perfect for their needs at the time. There was no need to push for anything more, she'd thought, since she was lucky to have even this much with him. She was content.

And then everything had gone to hell in a handbasket, and she hardly knew what to make of it.

When the Scouts had been forced into hiding, (Y/N) had been out of her mind with worry, unable to concentrate on even the simplest of things. The whole thing had caught her off guard in more ways than one; of course, she'd known that she was fond of Levi, that he meant something to her, but until that news reached her ears, she hadn't known just how deeply her own feelings ran. Every waking thought was consumed by Levi while the government hunted him and his men like they were dogs, until one day, after hours of agonizing worry, (Y/N) finally admitted to herself that she had fallen face-first in love with the most untouchable soldier in the entire Survey Corps. 

Love. Oh, how foolish, how irresponsible of her to fall in love! Teenage girls fall in love, children with flowers in their hair and stars in their eyes fall in love— not grown women with a career and responsibilities in life!

But she had fallen, and there was nothing that could change it once it took hold. 

By the time everything had been settled and Historia had been crowned queen, (Y/N) had come to terms with her lot. She was in love, yes, but in the long run, it didn't change anything, not really. After all, Levi hadn't tried to contact her since before the incident with the Military Police, Rod Reiss, and the madness that had accompanied it; nearly the entire first week of her leave had passed, and there had still been no word from him. And why should there have been? She was just a friend, just someone to pass the time with on occasion. He owed her nothing. 

Even so, she couldn't help but feel a bit wounded by it. 

It was on the third evening of her second week off that (Y/N) really began to feel the sting of rejection. Up to that point, Levi's absence of communication could easily have been explained away by any number of things related to his position in the Survey Corps and the precarious nature of the current monarchy; now, however, with everything mostly back to normal, there was increasingly little reason for him not to be in touch. (Y/N) could no longer dare to hope that it was business that kept him away. The only plausible explanation in her mind was that she had been forgotten entirely, and she had rolled around on her couch all day, marinating in the misery of her current situation. 

I should have stayed on the farm with father, she thought for one desperate, awful moment, Then I would be married off to some louse, and I'd be so busy being barefoot and pregnant that I wouldn't have time to feel sorry for myself.

As quickly as the thought had come, (Y/N) brushed it aside. She would never trade her independence for anything; the way she saw things, it was much better to be miserable of her own doing than somebody else's, and in any case, the fit of melancholy she was experiencing at present had a very plain and simple solution for the temporary that she wouldn't have had otherwise.

After all, there was no medicine like whiskey for matters of the heart. 

Just as she began to seriously consider pouring herself a glass from the decanter sitting in the corner of her living room, there were three sharp knocks at the door. 

At first, (Y/N) ignored it. She wasn't feeling very much in the mood for guests, and would likely lose her patience with whoever it was rather quickly. However, the knocker was insistent; after a few moments, they knocked again, this time with the meat of their fist, if the way (Y/N)'s wall decor rattled was any indication. 

Let them knock, (Y/N) thought viciously, folding her arms over her chest. As far as they're concerned, I could be out to dinner at this hour. 

"Oi!" said the knocker in a too-familiar voice as they knocked even harder. "I know you're in there, brat, let me in!" 

It was Levi!

Stumbling over herself in her hurry, (Y/N) unlocked her door and let it swing inward just as Levi was raising his fist to knock again. When she saw what a state he was in, (Y/N) immediately felt guilty for her one-woman pity party; Levi was clearly exhausted, his eyes bloodshot, and judging from the bottle in his hand and the smell clinging to him, he had been drinking quite a bit. 

"Are you okay?" were the first words out of her mouth, but Levi didn't reply. He just stared at her mutely, and as she stared back, (Y/N) was surprised to find pain hidden there in the steely depths of his eyes. 

"Kenny Ackerman is dead," he told her, and before she could ask who the hell Kenny Ackerman was, Levi took the bottle in his hand and turned it skyward, chugging whatever was in it. 

"Hey, now, that's enough of that," (Y/N) said, snatching the bottle away, spilling some over both of them in the process. "I have whiskey inside that you can drink out of a glass like a civilized— mph!"

His hands were suddenly on either side of her face, his mouth colliding with hers in a bruising kiss that tasted like cheap booze and stale bread. He kissed her with the same frenzied desperation with which he'd turned up the bottle, as though she could get him just as drunk, and before (Y/N) knew what was happening, they were inside and she was pressed against the door, trapped by strong arms and insistent kisses. 

"I can't think," he said, sucking and biting a bruise into her neck. "So much shit has happened and I can't process any of it. I just want to not feel anything."

"Levi, you know that's not healthy," she chided gently, gasping as his mouth trailed lower to the hollow of her throat. 

"Fuck healthy. I don't care. I just want to be with you and forget."

Something was off. Ordinarily, (Y/N) would have just passed it off as melodrama and let him have his way with her, but he was so, so drunk, and hurting on top of that; he was, for all intents and purposes, a wounded soldier… only, his wounds were on the inside, utterly invisible and impossible to heal by any physical means. It was entirely possible that if (Y/N) allowed things to continue in this direction, he could really hurt her— hurt both of them— without realizing it. 

"Levi, I don't think sex is a good idea right now, you're completely sloshed and—"

He jerked away from her, his lips red and bruised-looking. He looked unbearably wounded, and (Y/N) looked away. 

"I'm sorry," she said, "But I'm not going to let you do something you'll regret later just to satisfy you for the moment. You're hurting and I know you want to get away from everything, but you're in no state to be seeking anything except maybe company and some rest."

Levi looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. (Y/N) wasn't sure what his reaction to refusal would be, but when he tangled a hand in her hair, he seemed to relax, the tension bleeding from him to leave only the most acute look of misery (Y/N) had ever seen on a person whose guts were, in fact, still where they were supposed to be. They were silent for a moment more, then Levi spoke, his voice thick with emotion and ever-so-slightly slurred. 

"I think I'm going to be sick."

So saying, he turned and wobbled in the direction of (Y/N)'s bathroom, which she hoped he would reach before he vomited on her floor. Deciding that she would save him the indignity of an audience, (Y/N) went to her kitchen and fixed a glass of water, but not before rooting around in her cabinets until she found an anti-nausea pill. When she thought an appropriate amount of time had passed, she made her way to the bathroom to check on him, and when she got there, she found him sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall in front of her toilet. 

"Here," she said, handing him the water and the pill, and he downed both without complaint or question. Silently, (Y/N) settled herself against the wall next to him, and after an indeterminable amount of time, he began to talk. 

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice noticeably more steady than it had been when he'd first arrived. "I didn't mean to be a grabby, drunk nuisance."

"Grabby and drunk you might be, but I never think of you as a nuisance," she grinned. "I am a bit worried though. Are you alright?"

Levi shrugged. "Ask me later, and you'll get an answer you'll like."

"I don't want an answer I'll like if it isn't the truth, Levi. I want whatever is real, even if it's ugly."

Levi let his head thunk against the bathroom wall, exposing the lean line of his throat, the bobbing of his Adam's apple.

"The truth is… complicated," he said, exhaling through his nose. 

(Y/N) mirrored Levi's shrug from earlier. "I've got time if you've got the inclination."

For a moment, Levi studied her. His eyes wandered from her own down to her chest, her torso, and back up; what he was searching for, (Y/N) couldn't have said, but whatever it was, he must have found it, because he began to speak once more, this time with the weight of a story on his shoulders.

"Kenny Ackerman was the man who raised me after my mother died," he said, his eyes trained straight forward. "He fed me, clothed me, taught me how to survive in The Underground. I thought of him as something like a father to me, although I would later find out that he was my uncle."

Levi paused, turning to look at (Y/N) to gauge her reaction. she tilted her head in an encouraging nod, and he continued. 

"One day, he just left, and I was alone for a long time. After he disappeared, I didn't see him for several years, and until a couple of weeks ago, I might have even considered the possibility of his death." Levi paused, then said, "Maybe it would have been better if he had been dead. Some of the soldiers under my command would still be alive if that had been the case."

(Y/N) grimaced. "I take it you two reunited under unfortunate circumstances." 

"The bastard ambushed me, slaughtered my subordinates like they were nothing and chased me across town." The look in Levi's eyes was a dark one, full of anger and malice, and (Y/N) could only imagine what it must have been like to be a first-hand recipient of the full force of that raging malevolence. "The rest is a long story but… later on, when everything was said and done, it was his time to die. We were alone in his final moments, and… I can't tell you everything, but there was something he said before he died that keeps bothering me."

Levi shook his head, rubbing his face with one hand. 

"Go on," (Y/N) prompted, eager to learn what had shaken him so. "What did he say?"

"He said, 'Everyone I've met, they're all the same. Drinking, women, worshipping God, even— family, the king, dreams, children, power— everyone had to be drunk on something to keep pushing on. Everyone was a slave to something.' I didn't think much of it then— I was too busy searching for other answers at the time— but now, it haunts me because it's true. Everyone is drunk on something, and sometimes— sometimes I don't even want to think about what that means."

(Y/N) nodded, allowing herself some time to think before responding. There wasn't much she could say to that, really; all she knew to do was offer her support and sympathy. 

"I'm sorry he died," she said, choosing her words very carefully. "It can't have been easy for you."

I should like to have met him, she added silently. A philosopher from the underbelly of society… 

Levi let out a soft tch. 

"Kenny was a criminal and a right bastard. Trust me, he isn't someone whose passing is mourned by many."

"But mourned by you?"

Levi shook his head. "I… don't know how I feel about it. He saved me, but then he abandoned me, and then he was gone for so long that it's like we were strangers who happened to know each other at the end."

"Sounds like a real character," she said, trying to imagine what sort of man would leave a child— even a prodigy like Levi— out on the streets to fend for themselves. "I'm sure he was a very complex individual."

"Understatement of the century," Levi huffed.

(Y/N) couldn't help but crack a grin. "Let me guess— he wasn't a people person either?"

At that, Levi looked at her in shock— calling him 'not a people person' was usually how (Y/N) liked to tease him when he was being grouchy— before huffing a surprised little laugh that was somehow fond and exasperated at the same time. 

"I guess you could say that," he chuckled, "Although I doubt you would have gotten on with him as well as you do me."

With that, he reached over and linked their fingers together before adding, "At least, I hope you wouldn't have— after all, there's only room for one Ackerman in the world to be terribly taken with you."

(Y/N) couldn't fight the blush that painted her cheeks, or the way her heart fluttered nervously in her chest. 

"You're 'terribly taken' with me?" she asked, partly teasing, partly serious.

Levi's smile faded. "That's actually what I came here to talk about."

(Y/N) raised a brow. The Levi knocking at her door earlier in the evening had looked like discussing their relationship was the furthest thing possible from his mind. 

"Did you happen to fall into a wine-cask on the way over, or… ?"

Levi grimaced. "Something like that. I'd intended to have a drink before I came to see you— for liquid courage, you understand— but then one drink became two, and before I knew it I was piss-drunk and thinking about the incidents of the past couple weeks."

"Ah." It didn't take a genius to figure out the rest from there. "I'm sorry. Did you still want to talk?"

(Y/N) was on pins and needles as she waited for his reply. On one hand, she was desperately eager to know what he had come to discuss that required 'liquid courage' as he put it; on the other, she was utterly terrified of what he might have come to say. 

"Yes," he replied, and her whole body began to feel fizzy, as though the blood in her body had suddenly become carbonated. "If you're willing to listen."

(Y/N) forced herself to smile. "I'm always willing to listen."

"Then here goes."

He sighed, pulling his hand away so that he could turn to face her. His eyes— gunmetal gray and so, so deep— were dark with the strength of his resolve, and (Y/N) braced herself for the impact of his next words. 

"I love you."

(Y/N) blinked. That… was not what she had been expecting. 

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I love you," he said, looking her straight in the eyes. "I love you, you and your bright eyes and your smart mouth and your wicked smile… you drive me crazy. I've never felt this way about anyone before."

"Oh, Levi," said (Y/N), her heart incredibly, miraculously full. "I—"

He held up a hand, looking slightly pained. "I'm not finished. From the moment I joined the Survey Corps, I've been reaching for vengeance, for freedom, for something more than the life of a street rat. Since I met you, for the first time in my life, I— I've begun to want something more, to look past today, past tomorrow and into a future to see what could be instead of what is. (Y/N), if this world were free, if the land were truly ours, there would be no need for a life like mine. I would have no place in the new world order, but… every now and then, I think that maybe with you and a little cottage somewhere wide and open and free… I could be happy." 

(Y/N) heart leapt into her throat. She couldn't say anything, couldn't even breathe; she felt as though she had been struck by lightning. Her expression must have mirrored her dumbstruck interior, because Levi looked away, dejected. 

"You think I'm crazy," he said, moving to stand. "Maybe I should go…"

That was enough to break (Y/N) out of her shell-shock, and she was suddenly filled with indignation at the presumptuous fool in front of her. In a bold movement that was unlike her, she grabbed his arm and yanked him to her until their noses were nearly touching.

"Levi Ackerman, if you think for one red-hot second that I'm going to let the man I love leave this apartment after a confession like that, you had better think again."

Levi blinked, once, then twice, and then unceremoniously turned his gaze downwards to watch his fingers pinch himself hard enough to bruise. 

"Levi!" (Y/N) scolded, yanking his hand away from his poor, abused skin. "What the hell?"

He gave her a look that was serious, serious, serious. 

"I had to make sure it was real," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "With you, I hardly know waking from dreaming."

(Y/N) shook her head, but couldn't fight off a smile. 

"Still drunk, are we?" she laughed, and Levi eventually cracked a crooked smile.

"Oh for certain. Doesn't mean it's not true, though."

(Y/N) kissed him gently on the cheek, smiling against his skin. "Oh, Levi. Come on, let's go to the kitchen. I'll make some tea, get you something to eat, and see if we can't flush some of that alcohol out of your system. That is, if you think you won't throw up again."

At that, Levi gave her a tired, good-natured leer. "I'd rather skip right to dessert."

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm sure, but unfortunately for you, I'm a medic. You need hydration and sustenance— doctor's orders."

Levi tch-ed. "I hate medics."

"But you love this one," (Y/N) giggled. "Would it make you feel better if I said I had a sexy nurse outfit waiting for you if you're a good patient?"

"Hmm, keep talking." Levi's grin was positively carnivorous. "You just might manage to convince me."

"I didn't say I had one, I just asked if you'd feel better if I said I did," (Y/N) teased, standing up and motioning for Levi to do the same.

"So do you or don't you have one?" he demanded as she led him by the hand to the kitchen.

(Y/N) turned to him and winked. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

As it turned out, Levi forgot all about the supposed nurse outfit by the time they made it to the bedroom. Of course, that was mostly because (Y/N) had insisted on hand-feeding him bits of biscuit dipped in honey, letting him suck the stickiness from her fingers with each go; by the time he'd eaten one full biscuit, he was so worked up that there was only one thing on his mind. 

"This is totally undignified," (Y/N) fussed as he carried her through the hall leading to her bedroom, her legs wrapped around his waist. "Besides, I know I've got to be heavy for you— oh. "

Levi wasn't interested at all in hearing the reasons why he shouldn't be carrying her to bed; conversely, he was very interested by the feel of the satiny skin of (Y/N)'s neck against his lips and teeth. 

Eventually— after getting sidetracked a time or two by stopping long enough to give kissing their full attention— Levi made it to the bed with (Y/N) in his arms. Gently, he placed her on the mattress, but still she clung to him; it was as though she was possessed by the same consuming desire to be as close as possible that affected Levi. Her hands sifted through his hair, leaving the most perfect tingling sensation in their wake, and Levi had a hard time restraining himself from acting as though he wanted nothing more than to meld himself with her completely, wrapping himself in everything she had to offer him. 

"Levi," she gasped as his tongue found her ear, and he could swear that his name never sounded sweeter than when it passed her lips.

"Yes, bright-eyes?"

Bright-eyes— how perfectly she was suited to the nickname he'd given her! It had begun as an endearment, first in his private thoughts, and then openly to (Y/N) herself; now, he signed all their letters with the closing salutation, 'Be well, bright-eyes,' and it was most often how he thought of her. Bright-eyes… his bright-eyes. 

"Take off our clothes."

Levi didn't need to be told twice. With skillful hands and a wandering mouth, he gently peeled (Y/N)'s clothes from her body, his lips, tongue, and teeth leaving a glistening trail wherever fabric had been removed to reveal smooth, silken skin. Beneath him, (Y/N) trembled, her body shaking with the pleasure of his ministrations; when his roaming hands reached her breasts, she arched into him, her back bowing off the bed, and Levi had to fight the urge to throw foreplay out the window in favor of seeking relief for his aching cock. 

"You're too perfect for your own good," he murmured into her neck after pulling her shirt off completely, followed by her bra. "I could touch and taste you forever, and it still wouldn't be enough."

He proved the truth of that statement as he lowered his mouth to one of her nipples as his hand rose to tease the other. Her responding whine was enough to make his cock twitch in his pants, and he chased those sounds like they were oxygen. He loved this woman, loved every part of her; he didn't know how else to show her other than to devote every ounce of his being to her pleasure and hope she knew what it meant for him to lay himself bare for her. 

"Levi, oh fuck," she groaned as he threw her shorts and panties across the room. "Stop teasing, I can't take it— just fuck me already."

"Patience is a virtue," Levi chuckled, blowing air across the nipple he'd unlatched from to speak. "And you, my sweet one, are full of every virtue."

Her eyes narrowed and her brows knit into the cutest frown Levi had ever seen. "I'd rather be full of you!"

"In time," he murmured, sinking lower on the mattress until he was eye-level with her sex. "Let me be selfish and enjoy you a bit more first."

And enjoy he did. As Levi unbuttoned his shirt, his mouth was busy sucking and nipping at that sweet bundle of nerves that he knew could make his bright-eyes scream. Once he was down to his boxers, his hands joined his mouth to tease at her opening, relishing in the soft, warm wetness he found there. His cock was throbbing with need to be there, buried in that tight heat, but still, he resisted. There would be time later for his own pleasure, but first, he intended to drive (Y/N) to her absolute limit. 

"Oh God, you're going to kill me," she gasped, her hands twisting the sheets in a white-knuckled grip as her body writhed against him. "Levi, I mean it, I want you inside me! What do you want me to do, beg?"

Levi paused, allowing himself a moment to be smug. 

"You can try that," he mused, flattening his tongue against her in a single, solid swipe that gave way to her whine. "It certainly won't hurt your cause."

And then, because (Y/N) was the most wonderful creature in existence, she opened her mouth with what must have been her very best attempt to drive Levi entirely mad. 

"Oh Levi, please," she begged, breathless and debauched. "I'll do anything, any position, I'll be so good for you— I just need you inside me, need you to bend me in half and fuck me so hard that you'll ruin me. I want it, Levi, I want it so badly!"

How could he deny her? After divesting himself of the last of his clothing, he rearranged (Y/N) a bit to adjust the angle— a pillow under her hips, he'd found, created the perfect angle for her when they chose to fuck face-to-face— and then pressed slowly into her in one smooth slide. The sounds she made as he entered her were somewhere between a sharp, choking inhale and a moan, and Levi had to close his eyes and grit his teeth to stave off his orgasm as she clenched hard around him. 

As he began to fuck her in earnest, those sounds became more and more frequent and desperate— her legs, which were thrown across his shoulders, began to tremble— and before long, she was screaming his name so loudly that the neighbors would most certainly be lodging a complaint with the landlord first thing the next morning. Levi swallowed that scream like the greedy, selfish man he was, kissing and licking into her mouth as he continued fucking her through her orgasm, and as (Y/N) fisted her hands in his hair, pulling him ever closer, he wondered how he had ever lived before he'd had this. 

And that was before she recovered her voice, which she used to maximum effect. 

"Come inside me," she said as he was getting close, her voice hoarse and wrecked in his ear. 

Levi's brain short-circuited. His hips stuttered in their rhythm, and he let out a groan that he might have been ashamed of had he been anywhere else besides balls-deep in the gorgeous specimen before him. Before his brain came back online, (Y/N) killed the questions and concerns that danced on his tongue, waiting to be unleashed.

"I take a pill," she told him, bucking her hips against him, moving his cock somehow impossibly further inside her. "There's nothing to worry about, just do it."

Levi's body made the decision for him; before he knew which way was up again, his hips resumed their frantic pace, fucking and fucking and fucking until he did exactly as she asked, spilling himself inside her without a second thought. 

Once he could think again, Levi rolled off of her, his cock spent and messy with the wetness of their coupling, and he seemed to melt into her sheets and pillows like a pile of human-shaped goo. 

"A pill, you say?" he asked as they recovered, both of their chests heaving as though they'd run a marathon. 

"Mhm, oral contraceptive," she confirmed, rolling over to look at him, her eyes as bright and beautiful as ever. "Handy little things, though not one-hundred percent effective, as one might imagine."

"Interesting."

In his mind's eye, Levi saw the little cottage he'd imagined for weeks, but now there were children playing out in the yard, chasing one another and laughing. He wondered briefly if (Y/N) would ever agree to bring children into the fucked-up world they lived in— if she would give him the privilege of fatherhood one day. Distantly, he thought he might like that, someday. Not now— not when humanity's survival was so precarious, and their love so new— but maybe someday, when everything was settled, when they had known each other longer. 

"Penny for your thoughts." (Y/N) prodded his side with a finger; she was as perceptive as ever, raising a brow that said, 'What are you hiding?'

"I love you," he replied simply, and he meant it. 

He must have given the right answer, because (Y/N) beamed at him with the brightness of a thousand suns. 

"I love you too," she said, and he knew she meant it too. 

After that night, Levi's visits and letters were more frequent, and more often than not, his correspondence came with little gifts… and sometimes not-so-little gifts. 

Once, after a trip to town, (Y/N) had returned home to find a letter in which was enclosed a ribbon of fine green silk— 'for your hair,' the letter had said— and a week or so after that, one came with a pair of lace gloves that (Y/N) had admired on a stroll with him the day before. After (Y/N) and a basket of fresh-baked muffins paid a visit to the orphanage where the queen and the 104th cadets were working, Levi had sent her a pair of truly stunning emerald earrings set in gold and fashioned in the shape of a teardrop, which were followed the next week with a gorgeous emerald bracelet to match. 

Needless to say, (Y/N) was feeling every inch the spoiled princess, but it was ever-so-slightly discomfiting; after all, she hadn't the funds to reciprocate in kind, and she felt that such beautiful and expensive jewelry was wasted on someone like her, someone who worked with her hands and often found herself in less-than-pristine situations that were common for medics. When (Y/N) finally voiced those concerns to Levi, he'd only waved his hand and said that even if she only ever wore them for him ( 'Even with nothing else on,' he'd added with a leer), then it was money well-spent, and money that he had to spare. 

And so they lived on, and (Y/N) continued to allow herself to be spoiled. 

However, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end; their newly-formed routine was disrupted by a single letter, written in Levi's familiar scrawl:

'I'll be by tonight. The day after tomorrow, we ride for Shiganshina.

Until then, be well, bright-eyes.

Levi.'

When she read those words, (Y/N)'s heart sank. It was easy to forget that Levi was a soldier when he was close to home and out of danger, but the word Shiganshina alone was enough to chill her to her bones with the reminder that Levi was the sword-arm of humanity, that the good of the human race would always take precedence over what either of them wanted. 

Later that evening, when Levi dragged in, (Y/N) had promised herself that she wouldn't cry, that she would be strong for him so that he could be strong for the rest of the world. She couldn't lose her cool, not now that he had come in looking like he needed about three days worth of sleep— she wouldn't. 

At least, that's what she told herself before Levi pulled a medium-sized velvet box out of his jacket pocket. 

"Don't laugh," he said as he pressed it into her hand. "If you hate it, it was Hange's idea."

"And if I love it?" she asked, a smile teasing at her lips. 

"Then Hange had nothing to do with it and it was my idea from the start."

(Y/N) was about to giggle, tickled by Levi's antics, but the laughter died in her throat as she opened the box to reveal a beautiful gold necklace with a heart-shaped pendant that was adorned by a single large emerald in the shape of a rhombus. Upon closer inspection, (Y/N) found that the pendant was in fact a locket, and when she opened it, she found that an impossibly small portrait of Levi in his military formals lay within. 

"Oh Levi," she said, tears welling in her eyes unbidden. "It's so beautiful."

Perhaps she could have blinked away those tears, had she not continued to gaze lovingly at her newest gift, but as her eyes lingered there on the portrait of her captain, the engraving on the inner left-hand side of the locket caught her attention. It read, 'Be well, bright-eyes,' and at once she understood exactly what this gift was meant to be. 

This was Levi's farewell. This was his way of saying goodbye and leaving something for her to remember him by in case he didn't come back. 

Her tears spilled over, and Levi drew her to his chest. He smelled of dust and dirt and sweat from travel, and (Y/N) buried her face impossibly closer in his skin. 

"If I knew it was that bad, I'd have left it in the store," he teased, though (Y/N) could tell that the words weighed heavily on him. "I hate to see you cry."

"I hate to be seen crying," she wailed into his shirt, clenching her fists in the fabric that lay across his back. "It's unseemly, and I told myself I wouldn't and now look at the mess I'm in."

"Nonsense," he said, stroking her hair. "You're never unseemly, not to me. If you let anyone see you cry, I would rather it be me that sees you."

(Y/N) looked up at that, and found a rare— but genuine— smile on Levi's face that tore madly at her heart. 

"After all," he added, pressing a kiss into her forehead, "I'm a selfish, selfish man when it comes to you."

If Levi was selfish, then so was (Y/N); she would do almost anything to stay there in that moment with him, to keep him with her always, Shiganshina and the whole of Wall Maria be damned. She knew it wasn't right, that the freedom and continued survival of mankind were so far above her own wants and needs that it hardly needed saying, but with Levi right there in her arms, alive and well and warm, she couldn't help but want him safe with her. 

They stood there holding each other for a long while, allowing themselves the comfort of a tender embrace, but eventually, Levi pulled away. 

"I need a shower, I'm absolutely disgusting," he said, unclasping his Cape. "Care to join me?" 

Naturally, she did, but it didn't turn out quite the way she had been expecting. 

Usually, showing together consisted of hot, steamy shower sex followed by gentle hands assisting with the actual washing part of showering, which was what (Y/N) had been anticipating; granted, she wasn't exactly in the mood for sex at all, but she wasn't about to deny Levi anything he wanted or needed, not when he had been so tired nor so close to a big mission. She was perfectly fine with allowing Levi to take pleasure from her and give her pleasure of his own, so long as it pleased him, but oddly enough, he seemed content just to touch and kiss her, working the washcloth over her body with a strangely pensive expression. Unwilling to disturb whatever thoughts he might be having, (Y/N) silently mirrored his movements, and soon they were both drying off.

"Forget clothes," he said as (Y/N) reached for the ones she'd brought with her. "I want to feel you."

And that was how they ended up lying naked in her bed, (Y/N) lying on her back at the headboard and Levi on his stomach atop her, his head nestled between her breasts. As far as it went, it was hardly the most abnormal position they'd ever lain in, but it was a bit concerning, considering that both of them were entirely sober and and not blissed out on sex chemicals. Levi seemed content, though, and the solid weight of him against her was reassuring, so (Y/N) said nothing and allowed herself to enjoy the moment. 

"I can hear your heartbeat," he said, his breath warm against her skin. 

"Am I all good, doc?"she teased, and she felt more than saw him grin.

"That's my line."

"I know."

They were silent a moment more, then Levi spoke up again, this time, his voice dark and full of trepidation.  

"This mission is going to change the world as we know it," he said. "If we succeed, and Grisha Jaeger's basement holds the secrets of the titans… (Y/N), for once in our long, miserable history, we could truly have a chance at winning our freedom."

In her heart of hearts, (Y/N) resonated with the mix of hope, longing, and abject terror in those words, but Levi wasn't finished.

"On the other hand, if we fail… there will be no Survey Corps. There will be no one to stand between the enemy titans and the wall… between the enemy and you ."

(Y/N)'s heart sank. "Levi, I—"

"I've never been scared before a mission," he told her, pulling her even closer. "Even now, I'm not scared for me— it's a soldier's lot, to give his life if he needs to— but I'm terrified for your sake. I couldn't bear it if anything were to happen to you."

(Y/N) brought a hand up to rake through his hair, deceptively soft and as black as midnight between her fingers. 

"I'm afraid for you too, you know," she said, scratching gently at the shaved hairs at the back of his head the way he liked. "And you're right, the world is going to change forever with this mission. Those are facts, things that we can't control."

She paused for a moment, thinking, then continued.

"But Levi, you're forgetting something very, very important. It's unlike you, to be so forgetful."

He let out a puff of air against her chest. "And what am I forgetting, sweet one?"

(Y/N) allowed herself a smile. "Humanity has a special superpower, a final line of defense if you will."

"Oh?"

"Of course," she replied as she felt him settle his full weight onto her chest once more. "No matter the trials, no matter the obstacles, no matter the odds stacked against us… we make do. We always have, and we always will. So don't worry about me, or anyone else here; we'll be just fine. Just worry about yourself and your comrades and living to fight another day, and we'll all make do with the hands that are dealt to us."

Levi was quiet after that— so quiet that (Y/N) was almost certain that he'd fallen asleep—  but then he stirred once more, readjusting his position so that he could look her in the eyes. 

"I love you," he said, raising himself up to rest his forehead against hers. "Your strength amazes me."

(Y/N) snorted. "And I love you , but the way you talk about my strength as if everyone doesn't refer to you as humanity's strongest soldier is ludicrous."

"Different kind of strength," he said, stealing a kiss. "Yours is a quiet assuredness, a gritty determination; you have the kind of strength that lends itself to the survival of the species."

"Flatterer," (Y/N) accused with a grin.

"It's not flattery if it's true," he replied, settling back down where he had been laying before. "As I've said before, you do have every virtue, up to and including the most perfect breasts in the world."

(Y/N) giggled. "A flatterer and a pervert."

"Give a man a break, there's a possibility I might die before I see you again. At least let me have the joy of my face in your magnificent tits before I go, and I'll die a happy man."

At that, (Y/N) swatted him. "Don't even joke about that, Levi Ackerman."

"What, your tits?"

She swatted him again. "No, your death , you neanderthal!"

Levi chuckled, and before either of them knew it, both of them were laughing, gasping for air when their giggling allowed it. Then and there, sharing such joy with the man she loved, (Y/N) knew it was going to be okay; not because he was certain to come back, or because humanity's victory was set in stone, but because they would both have this moment to keep them and sustain them through lonely nights and dreary days, to remind them what it was that made them human. 

We'll make do, indeed, (Y/N) thought to herself as her side threatened to split. We'll both be just fine.

[happy-tori-friends]

For the confession prompts,could I ask for 'Confession in an argument' or 'Confession out of frustration' for Splendont and the twins,please?

ngl i struggled a bit with the angle of this one, and yet i still turned out to be the length on an actual chapter... i decided to do it w one of the twins sorta confessing bc as of right now i plan on dont being the one the that does it. i fear for how long the actual confession in oblivion will be... i hope it will top this one.

now that i have written a confession prompt for them... i need to find some angst + hurt/comfort prompts. i want to hurt lifty and/or shifty and i want splendont to lose his shit (tho splendid and flip/fliq in either position of that type of scenario is also *chefs kiss*.)

“That was stupid, even for you.”

Shifty hissed, both at the words and at the sting of Splendont pulling a shard of glass from one of his wounds. He did not look in the redhead's direction, instead willing himself not to pull away as he cleaned and dressed his wounds.

From off to the side, his brother watched, lips curled into a frown. Lifty was unharmed for the most part, save for maybe a cut or two he got while running to pull Shifty up.

“He's right, y'know,” he spoke, and Shifty had to resist the urge to snap back at him. “It's a miracle you survived at all. I mean, getting hit by an off-course car and flung through a shop window usually would have killed someone.”

Splendont made a noise signaling his agreement as he bandaged another wound. “I would have been fine, there was no need to push me out of the way.”

“I'm more surprised he actually could push you out of the way,” Lifty muttered, “or that he'd do something like that in the first place.”

Groaning, Shifty put his palm to his forehead. “Shut up. Just, shut up. I wasn't… I wasn't thinking straight, alright?”

“Oh, you definitely weren't thinking straight at all,” Lifty folded his arms, and shifted his position. He looked away from the other two, muttering under his breath. “I'm sure ‘Dont is flattered that you care about him that much, at least.”

Feeling his face heat up at Lifty's jab, Shifty attempted to pull away from the redhead with an annoyed grunt. However, Splendont's grip on him tightened, making him hiss in pain. He whirled around to face the redhead, embarrassment, anger, and frustration melting together within him. A part of him wanted to kick and scream and let it out, but he knew that wouldn't do him any good. Instead, he'd have to wait for Splendont to finish dressing his and his brothers’ wounds.

He had a bone to pick with Lifty for picking up on and hinting at things he hadn't yet told, after all.

After what felt like an eternity of meticulous glass removal and wound dressing, Splendont finally stood up. “Alright, Lifts. What about you?”

“What about me?” Lifty's frown turned into an uneasy smile. “I'm fine. Pay attention to Shifty. He's the one who cared enough to try and save you. Maybe he's… lying to you, or you missed something.”

The fedora wearing man narrowed his eyes and turned to look straight into his brother's nervous golden gaze. “Me, lying about whether or not I still need an injury attended to? That sounds like you're protecting. And since I'm soooo stupid for caring for once, maybe he should pay more attention to the smarter one of us, the one who was friends with him first!”

“Hey, hey-” Splendont tried to intervene as Shifty got up to stand in his brother's face, but both of the twins looked at him with heated golden glares.

“Shut up, Splendont!” they shouted at him, still synchronized even as they turned back to each other. He threw his hands in the air and backed away, but his crimson eyes stayed focused on them.

“You… you just don't get it, Shifty! I-, You-, You're-!” Lifty kept cutting himself off, face contorting and expression twisting as he tried to formulate his thoughts into clear, coherent sentences.

With a snort, Shifty got closer to his brothers’ face, lips curling into a smirk. “Hah! You're gonna lecture me when you can't even form a sentence right now?”

“Ugh!” Lifty shoved him away, turning so he didn't have to look at his brother, who staggered backwards, barely catching his balance. The cuff of his left hoodie sleeve was stained with blood, and he winced when his hand made contact with Shifty. 

With clear evidence of Lifty ‘projecting’ the lying and hiding injuries onto him, Shifty opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Lifty spoke once more. “Can't you see I'm trying to help you, give you a chance to say something? You're the one that deserves to be with him - you're so much better, so much more worthy than me! You're the older one, you're the one who calls all the shots, you're better at most things than I am, and you were willing to put yourself in danger for him! Just tell him you like him, so I can make myself give up on these feelings completely!”

Mere moments after he finished speaking, Lifty covered his mouth, eyes going wide. His ears immediately flattened, guilt evident in watering golden hues.

The way Shifty had seen it, Lifty was the one more deserving of being with Splendont. He had always been nicer and willing to open up to him. He was the first to really be friends with him. And for once, Shifty was willing to not be so greedy, to let Lifty have something that he also wanted.

Funny, how the one thing they were both willing to sacrifice for the other was the same exact thing - love. Something neither of them had ever expected being able to truly experience.

“You… you two know I've been here the whole time, right?”

“...Ah.” Shifty looked towards Splendont, lips curling into a frown. What was there to say? ‘Sorry that I got into a stupid argument with my brother and he accidentally revealed that he and I have feelings for you, and also, neither of us ever talked about it, we apparently just sorta assumed we both did and decided that the other was more worthy of being with you, and this is the first time it's being acknowledged out loud’? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

The redhead moved to the middle of the couch, patting both spaces beside him. “C'mere, both of you. Lifty, let me look at your hand, and… we'll talk, yeah?”

For once, Shifty was the more obedient one, taking the seat to the left of Splendont. No complaints, no snide remarks, just… a moment of hesitation and dread. The embers of the hot anger burning within him was overtaken by the fact that it felt like everything was about to be pulled out from underneath them. All the hard work of moving forward, actually making friends with some of the others in town and having connections they could rely on thanks to Splendont's support was going to be undone by a stupid little mistake and words spat in the heat of the moment.

Was it Lifty's fault? His fault? Were they equally to blame? Rationality had slipped out the door the moment he panicked when he saw the car swerve towards them.

He would've been better off if he continued to be a piece of shit person, wouldn't he?

His gaze flickered over to Lifty, who had backed away, eyes still wide and with regretful tears rolling down his cheeks. He rubbed at his eyes, tugged at the hair strands that always seemed to bother him, and shuddered. “N-no, I don't…” He muttered, not daring to directly look at either of them. “It's not that big of a deal. My hand isn't. Sorry, I… I didn't mean to, but…” He trailed off, looking at his feet.

“Please, Lifty?” Splendont urged, “I'm… not mad. Not mad at all, I swear to you. But we still need to talk about it, and I still want to clean that cut, just to be sure.”

A long, shaky breath escaped Lifty, and he began to shuffle over to the couch. Once he'd sat down, he still avoided looking at them, but extended his injured hand to Splendont.

“This the only one?” the redhead asked, and Lifty made a confirmative noise. “Gotcha.” 

All three went silent, save for Lifty's sniffling, as Splendont cleaned and dressed the wound. When he was done, he did not fully let go of the hand, but held it ever so gently. Then, with his other one, he reached to grab one of Shifty's. In response, the fedora-wearing man made a soft, confused noise, but did not pull away.

And with a deep breath, Splendont finally broke the wordless lull. “You two are very, very important to me. Both of you. If someone would have asked me a few months ago if I ever anticipated caring about anyone outside my family as much as I care about you, I would have never believed them. But, here I am. I genuinely feel so very lucky to have met you, because it has made me so much happier. You gave me something to care about other than my brother and saving people, a reason to be willing to step outside my comfort zone and actually… get to know people. That is a debt I can never, ever repay.”

He took another breath, dropping both of their hands in exchange for wrapping his arms around their shoulders, and then he continued. “You're so important to me that I want to give you both whatever you want, given it's within my power. And I don't want to force either of you to… give up, and I don't want you to sacrifice your own feelings. There's something I've been struggling with recently. Because I've found not one, but two people I want to hold close and never let go. It… took me a while to sort things out, I actually had to talk to other people about it. Maybe this is selfish of me, because it sure as hell felt like it at first. But I don't care if it's selfish or not, because it's how I feel. Lifty, Shifty, I love you, both of you. And I want to be with both of you, date both of you, if you'll allow me.”

Wasn't it ironic Splendont had felt selfish in regards to the very kings of selfishness themselves? The two that took without asking, fueled both by necessity and the thrill and enjoyment? Shifty wanted to laugh, wanted to point out how hilarious it was, wanted to say or do anything to break out of the state of shock he was in. A happy sort of shock, but shock nonetheless.

He moved closer to Splendont, as if to signal to him that he was okay with this, and wanted this. For someone usually not willing to share, it felt surprisingly right. No sacrifices, no wanting to erase everything, and neither of them were unworthy. Both of them were worthy, both of them were loved. Maybe that was reason enough to ignore the tears streaming down his flushed cheeks, to let himself be just the teensiest bit vulnerable, if only just for a little while.

When Splendont pulled him closer, he also pulled Lifty closer. The younger twin had wrapped his arms around Splendont, just about in his lap, clinging onto him as if he was going to disappear. While Shifty's breaths were rapid and heavy, Lifty's were more like gasps for air, borderline hyperventilation.

“Hey, Lift, it's okay,” Shifty murmured, reaching out to put a hand on his back. “Everything's fine, it's all worked out! It's… it's, uh, great even.”

“I-I… I know… I'm so, so h-happy. Happy, yeah, but, but… still feels… it was… it was sh-shitty, real shitty of m-me,” Lifty managed to get out between breaths. “I'm s-sorry, s-so…”

Splendont gingerly placed a hand near Shifty's, and began to rub circles on Lifty's back. “Breathe,” he murmured comfortingly. “We all say things we regret. Sure, it might have been a dick move, but you've apologized now and things are… things are happening. Fuck, it feels so surreal.”

Shifty nodded in agreement, still half in a daze. This had really happened, Splendont wanted to be with them, both of them, and he and Lifty were fine with it. They had gotten a boyfriend. Their feelings were returned and it was all because Shifty hadn't been thinking clearly and panicked.

“Y'know,” Shifty hummed, a grin curling onto his lips as rested his cheek against Splendont's chest. “If doing stupid shit like getting hit by a car managed to get me a boyfriend, I should start being more reckless. Maybe more good things'll happen.”

Splendont chuckled, and even Lifty managed to giggle as he caught his breath. “There's that sense of humor I know and love,” the redhead smiled, before his expression immediately turned serious. “Absolutely do not do that. I'll make sure more good stuff happens to you as long as you don't pull a stunt like that again.”

Shifty let out a small laugh, wrapping an arm around Splendont as he did so. “I'll do my best, but no promises.” The headshake accompanied by a smile from the redhead and the forehead flick from his brother made him chuckle even more.

Knowing both he and Lifty were loved, feeling safe just being by Splendont's side… Things had changed, and would continue to change as they adjusted to their new relationship. But for once, Shifty was willing to deal with it, and was even excited for the things to come.

[eithneland]

Tales from far away

"...such a pitty innocent souls will suffer, for another's decisions..."

Author's note: New two-part story! Original idea, for all that I am aware. AU: Genshin royal AU with OC insert Story will center around Kamisato Ayato and Jeanette (OC)

Trigger warnings: blood, description of death, mention of war, rather dark themes

The Bekket kingdom bordered the Great Yashiro Empire. Kamisato Ayato was the current emperor of the boarding Empire.

The two kingdoms had always previously maintained a friendly relationship, being trading partners. They had made countless deals, contracts, had united against other kingdoms in wars yet...not everything good lasts.

The Bekket kingdom had made a terrible mistake, leading to war with the most powerful empire. The Bekket kingdom was defeated. After a bloody war, where both kingdoms shed blood. Most members of the royal family, ended up defeated.

Jeanette was breathing heavily, sitting on the cold and hard ground as snow piled around her. It was cold. Really cold. She was holding her bleeding stomach wound, shivering. She had to move but couldn't. The pain was agonizing, whenever she tried to move her foot. She couldn't. She had gotten shot in it, so she wouldn't be able to get away. But she did.

Her will for survival had been underestimated.

Just as suddenly, the sound of horses neighing alerted her. The sound of boots stomping her way. And with it, a man's deep voice.

"She cannot be far....keep looking, soldiers! We have to find her. Lord Kamisato will come soon."

Jeanette grings her teeth together. She wouldn't be caught. Not like this.

She bites her tongue, forcing herself to stand up. She feels a pulse of sharp pain going through her entire body. It was the worst pain she had ever felt. She wanted to scream but instead she dug her teeth in her tongue.

She climbed up a tree nearby, barely managing to stumble to it. She pushed herself to jump from tree to tree, moving away without leaving any footsteps in the snow.

She was in pain. But she needed to survive.

She needed to survive.

Needed to survive.

Needed....

to...

survive...

With a thud she falls to the ground, the branch under her, breaking, under her weight. But that didn't matter. The pain that jolted through her body didn't matter.

She had done it.

She actually did it.

She had gotten a decent amount of distance away from her beginning position. Now, she needed to run.

Meanwhile, while she was quietly suffering from her wounds, trying to get away, the search was extensive and the soldiers searched everywhere for her, trying to spot any trace of a footstep or a dip of blood. Anything.

"Damn it! We had her, but she somehow managed to elude us. Lord Kamisato is going to kill us for this." One soldier said, his anger raising.

"This is not good, this is not good. We need to find her." Another said, he was more panicked than angry, though there was anger in his voice. His heart was beating from the taught of being punished by Kamisato. He felt bad for the princess, but even worse for himself, so he countinued searching.

The search party, who were all loyal to Kamisato Ayato were now more desperate than ever. Because of the silent fear everyone shared, of being punished, if they did not find the princess. And so the hunt continued.

They could not find a trace of hers.

Jeanette had collapsed on the ground, in a thick forest. She was lost, but she knew that the empire wasn't endless. If she walked in any direction enough, she would reach a border. They was her only hope. It was pathetic and she knew it but hope was hope.

She couldn't move anymore.

She was shaking. Her limbs, nose and ears red from frostbite. She was freezing and the gaping stomach wound didn't help. She hadn't lost a fatal amount of blood....yet. Her tongue truly hurt, and was bleeding from how hard she had been biting it.

Her brain tried scrambling for anything, anything she can do. It couldn't think of anything. She couldn't think of anything.

She yearned for survival, tears forming on the side of her eyes. But she wiped them away. She refused to cry.

Jeanette was the last living member of the royal family, of the Bekket kingdom. The princess, who was still a teenager.

Her father had been killed by the emperor himself.

Her mother was killed by an unknown soldier.

Her brothers were killed too.

Her little sister suffred the same fate.

She hadn't gone down without a fight. She did everything she could, for survival. She was being hunted down and she didn't go down.

She did survive, though, she was injured. Her stomach was bleeding, her foot was bleeding from a bullet enchanted with pyro energy, would She was alone in the middle of the woods. She had managed to safely make distance between the enemy soldiers and herself. But was lost in enemy territory. She was in critical condition.

That was never a good sign.