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cosmicjoke · 3 years

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No Regrets: Chapter by Chapter Analysis:

1. Preface to my analysis

Okay, so, since I’ve reached the end of every published volume of SnK so far, and have to wait until October to read the last volume, I thought I’d re-read “No Regrets” and delve into some analyzation of this story, chapter by chapter.

One thing I want to start out by saying, before I get into the details, is that I think “No Regrets” is a vital demonstration of how Levi has always cared about people, and always fought for them.

One misrepresentation I sometimes see regarding Levi’s and Erwin’s relationship is when people claim that Erwin was the one to teach Levi to fight for something bigger than himself, or to fight for others. The thing is, “No Regrets” clearly demonstrates that Levi already had a strong foundation of caring for others, and fighting for others, before Erwin himself ever had any major influence over him, and I plan on getting into all the examples of that within the story and breaking them down.

First, though, there’s an important quote from Isayama from the joint interview he did with the artist for “No Regrets”, Hikaru Sugura, in which he says about Levi, in response to the question of how he pictured Levi’s internal feelings of going from a “thug” to a “soldier”, “It’s that he found a place to make the most of what he could do, or rather, his own special abilities. Underground, where it was all he could do to stay alive, he had to live for that, but then he started to form relationships and began to feel that he could do things for others. And that’s why he first went above ground...”

This is a hugely important quote from Isayama, because he flat out says that, even before Levi came to the surface, he’d already formed bonds with people, and already began to feel like there was something bigger than himself that he could fight for, that he could “do for others”. Isayama also says here that Underground, “It was all he could do to stay alive”, which signifies with great clarity the struggle someone would have, even someone with Levi’s great strength, of surviving and making it from one day to the next in a place like the Underground. So, for Levi, it must have already been a terrible burden, simply trying to take care of himself, and live for himself. But then he meets Furlan and Isabel, and he becomes friends with them, and despite the doubtless added burden to his own existence of having two other people relying so heavily on him for their own survival, he takes that burden onto himself, and does so with willingness and responsibility. Isayama says that “It’s that he found a place to make the most of what he could do, or rather, his own special abilities.”. Erwin didn’t instill in Levi a sense of responsibility for others, or the idea of fighting for someone other than himself. Levi already had that, had already DONE that. What Erwin did for Levi was show him the path towards maximizing the impact he could have, showing him how he could use his abilities to help the MOST number of people, not just a few people. Erwin showed Levi that he could have a significant impact on the world, that he could fight for actual, positive change for all people. Another important part of that quote from Isayama is when he says “And that’s why he first went above ground...”, because it tells us what Levi’s initial drive and intention for going to the surface was, and that was to help give Isabel and Furlan a better life. He trusted in Furlan’s plans, and went along with them, because it was what Furlan and Isabel had both expressed to Levi that they wanted to do and to have. Even here, Levi is fighting for the dreams of others.

I’ve recently read the visual novel of “No Regrets”, and while it had some good parts, it also very much underdeveloped and even at times outright misinterpreted Levi’s character in some really key ways, casting him as someone so hell bent on getting revenge on Erwin, that he is blinded to the safety of Isabel and Furlan, pressing on with his plans to kill Erwin at their expense. The worst part about this, I thought, was how it reduced the pivotal moment in which Levi chooses to go after Erwin and leave Furlan and Isabel behind to an impulsive, snap decision, in which Levi puts no thought or real consideration into it. He doesn’t struggle at all in choosing how he does, doesn’t agonize over what he thinks is the right choice, because in that moment, there isn’t even the consideration of another option, he isn’t even making a choice, really, just reacting, which entirely defeats the purpose of Levi’s character motif throughout the main series, which is that he can never know for sure what decision is the right one until after he chooses, but that he has to try and make one he feels is right, and that no matter what, he can’t allow himself to dwell on it with regret afterwards. This gets corrected in the manga big time, as do several other instances of Levi’s characterization, and I’m going to go over it in more detail when I get to that final chapter. But the choice Levi makes in the manga is much, much more nuanced, considered, and multifaceted. Here, he had laid out in his head two, distinct options, and he weighs and balances them against one another in a high pressure situation, before deciding on the one he thinks is best. He doesn’t just leave his friends, thinking only of Erwin and revenge. He’s thinking of ALL of them, and of every factor leading up to that point, and that struggle for Levi is what ends up having the affect of ultimately forming his later philosophy of never allowing himself certainty in anything, but also allowing himself leniency in whatever he chooses, knowing that he can’t be so hard on himself for the outcome, whatever it may be, that he isn’t able to move on from it, or use it to keep pushing forward and learn, so that he can do better next time. It’s important that Levi’s choice in “No Regrets” is actually presented as one made with his full consciousness, one that was a fully thought out one on his part, which is why I really disliked the way it was portrayed in the visual novel, and why I’m glad they corrected it in the manga, which is the canonically accepted version of the story either way. Because it’s a vital moment in Levi’s character development, with him learning that even when he tries his best to choose right, even when he considers every factor and every, conceivable outcome, even when he does what he thinks, in the moment, is best, it won’t always turn out that way, it won’t always turn out good, or favorably. He won’t always win. He won’t always be able to save everyone. It’s a huge moment of character growth for Levi, who makes a well thought out and considered decision, and it still results in his two, best friends getting killed. It teaches Levi that he can never have full control of any situation, no matter how hard he tries, and that, in turn, gives Levi a kind of freedom in simple acceptance. It lifts a burden from his shoulders, even as he experiences enormous grief and loss.

Anyway, I’m going to be reading the first chapter of “No Regrets” later tonight, and will give my more detailed observations in a separate post. Thanks for reading, as always guys!

2. Chapter 1: The Wings of Freedom

Okay, so here we go! Chapter 1 of “No Regrets”!

There’s a few things I want to point out about this chapter, because both visually and textually, we get a lot of information about the Underground and Levi, and his relationship with Isabel and Furlan. So I’ll just go through it.

The first thing that really caught my attention for this chapter was the opening page, which is a retrospective shot of Levi after he’s joined the SC, thinking about how he can’t ever know what the results of his choices are going to be. He says here “I trusted in my own strength... I trusted in the decisions of comrades who had earned my faith...” And this quote from Levi is really important in later understanding why he makes the choice he does, at the end. He says he trusted in the decisions of comrades who had earned his faith, and that tells us that Levi believes in Furlan and Isabel, that he believes in their strength and their capability, that he believes in them enough to let them choose for themselves and trust in their judgement. We’ll obviously delve more into this as it becomes more relevant to the story. But moving on...

The next thing to catch my attention is the panels of the Underground we see. These are probably the best shots of this place we get in the whole series, as it really depicts a place that is totally run down and dilapidated, with buildings falling apart and crumbling in disrepair, filth ridden streets with literal sewage water coming out of drain pipes, and a actual cave cover overhead, complete with stalactites, blocking out all sunlight except for few and far between pockets which break through holes in the rock ceiling. The most telling panels though are the ones which depict the violence and poverty of the place. We see a panel of a homeless man passed out on the street, painfully thin looking, and under him, two men in a fight, one beating the other violently. And the next panel shows us a little girl, sitting barefoot on the ground between two men who have just blown each other’s brains out with guns. Truly, this is a violent, dark, poverty-stricken place that breeds crime and depravation. The pages before this say that BECAUSE of the splendor of the Capital city above the Underground, this place exists, and that’s accurate. Because of the excesses and decadence of the rich and well off above these people rejected by society, that means fewer resources for the less fortunate. It’s truly tragic.

Alright, now I just want to move on to some small, but telling moments here while Levi and the others are being chased by Erwin and his crew.

When Isabel is bragging about how the MP’s never learn, referring to how they’ll never be able to catch their gang, she asks Levi if what she said was cool. Levi tells her “Don’t be stupid.” This might seem like Levi just blowing her off, but the way I read it, it seems more to me like Levi is warning her not to be cocky, not to be over confident, because that’s the kind of thing that can get you killed, or caught. Big Bro indeed! We also see how mindful Levi is here as a leader, when he tells them they can’t afford to lead the soldiers following them straight to their hideout, and clearly they have a plan in place for just this sort of thing.

More importantly, Levi is fast to realize these aren’t ordinary soldiers after them, which shows his great instincts, but what’s really interesting is his internal thoughts here. His logic is telling him regular MP’s wouldn’t work this hard to catch them, and that their skill with the ODM means they must be SC. But Levi doesn’t really believe it which, given what we later find out about the deal with Lobov, and Lobov warning them of Erwin’s plans, tells us that Levi never really believed the SC would come after them. He’s clearly surprised here.

Further, after informing Isabel and Furlan and confirming his suspicions, he tells Furlan that he’s got no intention of getting mixed up with “these guys”. This tells us Levi never wanted to go through with Furlan’s plans, never wanted to join the SC, never wanted anything to do with any of it. There’s further evidenced in this very chapter, which I’ll get to in a moment. But it tells us a lot about the dubious feelings Levi had from the start, and how he probably would have simply been happiest to stay in the Underground with his friends, even though it was a hard life.

Alright, so, this next part is a big deal, and it’s an overlooked detail which speaks volumes about the kind of person Levi is. I didn’t even notice this the first time I read it, so I want to talk about it. Levi separates from Isabel and Furlan, and takes Erwin and Mike on a wild chase through the back alley’s and narrow passages of the slums. He really tries to give them the run around here, until he flips over a door, into another area. What’s really important here is Levi’s dialog. He says first “... Lost ‘em, huh?” And then he says, “That got a little crazy... I hope... none of them crashed.” This is kind of amazing. Levi is showing actual concern for the two soldiers who’d just attempted to catch him and his friends, who were doggedly pursuing them with obviously bad intentions of some kind. And Levi, after having to resort to some serious ODM skills to shake them, says he hopes that none of them crashed. He doesn’t want Erwin or Mike to get hurt, he just wants to get away from them. Considering he doesn’t know either of them at this point, they’re just nameless, faceless military dogs trying to mess things up for him, that shows remarkable character.

Of course, things go downhill from there, when Mike crashes through the door and tackles him. All bets are off then, because Levi’s life is now in danger, and when that happens, he’ll resort to physical force. Still, he only throws Mike off of him and once again attempts to get away, only for it to be Erwin who swoops down and cuts Levi’s cables. This was actually really dangerous. Given Levi’s momentum and position, he crashes hard into a nearby wall before falling to the ground. So we already see some of that ruthlessness from Erwin here. Of course, that spurs Levi into violence himself. I have no doubt that when Levi lunges for Erwin and knocks his blade away, bringing his knife to his neck, he truly intended to kill him in that moment. Levi’s compassion for these soldiers can only go so far, considering the desperation of his own circumstances. If Mike hadn’t been there to stop it, I think Levi probably would have ripped Erwin’s jugular right out, and that would have been that, lol. And then, it’s important to note too WHY Levi stops. Not because Mike was able to physically restrain him, but because he tells Levi to look around himself, directing his attention to the fact that Furlan and Isabel have been caught. That immediately stays Levi’s hand, and once again, we’re shown how Levi puts the wellbeing of his friends above himself. He could have ditched Furlan and Isabel right then and there and escaped on his own. Instead, he allows himself to be restrained and cuffed. He refuses to abandon them.

Now the next scene is hugely important to a lot of stuff.

Erwin’s got Levi and his friends down on their knees, in the sewage, questioning them about their ODM skills, and the three of them stay silent, obviously defiant. We really get a good look at Erwin’s abilities as a manipulator here.

He’s pulling the whole good cop/bad cop routine on Levi, when he tells him “I’d like to avoid any rough treatment if I can” before looking to Mike in a clear signal for Mike to pretty damn violently tear Levi’s head back by his hair before smashing his face into the sewage on the ground. And this really IS sewage. It’s not mud. If you look at the panels, we see this brown muck coming out of drain pips attached to the surrounding buildings. This water is probably, literally, dirty with feces, and Erwin has Mike put Levi’s face in this and hold it there. Now let’s remember something important about Levi. He’s a clean freak. He obviously cares deeply about keeping both himself and his environment clean. Erwin couldn’t know this about him at the time, but nobody of course would be happy about having their face shoved into literal shit. But for Levi, I can only imagine this had to be tantamount to a kind of torture. Erwin keeps questioning him, looking down at him without any kind of emotion, and Levi remains stubbornly silent, despite how awful this must truly be for him. We get a close up of Levi’s eye in one of the panels, paralleled with Erwin’s own, and Levi’s expression really strikes me as one of awful humiliation. He goes from looking up at Erwin in rage, to looking away, staring straight ahead, while Erwin keeps looking down at him.

Still, Levi says nothing, and it’s Isabel who finally cracks, telling Erwin that they didn’t learn to use ODM from anyone, with Furlan further explaining that they taught themselves as a means of survival. He remarks that “anyone who doesn’t know what sewage tastes like couldn’t understand!”. Clearly, both of them are really upset to see this being done to Levi, and I have to imagine it’s at least in part because they know how awful an experience this has to be for him, given that they know how much he desires to stay clean. Their shocked expressions when Mike first pushes Levi’s face into the sewage says as much too.

But still, Levi remains silent as Erwin then demands to know Levi’s name. What Mike does to Levi in the next panel is even worse. He pushes his face into the sewage and holds him there until Levi literally starts to choke in it, for long enough that, when he finally does pull him up, Levi is gasping for breath. I really don’t see people talk enough about this scene, but, well...

It’s a torture scene. Erwin is ordering Mike to torture Levi here. It may not be the most extreme form of torture, it isn’t the type of physical violence we typically think of when we think of torture, but that’s what it is. It’s causing Levi both physical and mental degradation, as well as physical distress.

Even with this though, Levi’s still silent and refuses to answer Erwin at all.

It’s only when Erwin literally threatens the lives of Furlan and Isabel that he finally talks. This is such an important detail. Levi was willing to take what to him must have been truly horrific treatment, but as soon as Erwin gives the signal to the other two Scouts who have hold of his friends, we see Levi’s expression shift from defiant rage to wide eyed fear as they put their blades to Furlan’s and Isabel’s throats.

Finally Levi talks, calling Erwin a “bastard”, to which Erwin simply asks him again what his name is, and after a slight hesitation, Levi finally gives it.

I think this entire scene is vital in understanding WHY Levi was so violently pissed at Erwin, to the point of wanting to kill him.

I think it’s a combination of both the humiliation and torture he puts Levi through here, and, worse still, the fact that he threatens Isabel and Furlan’s lives. Levi already feels looked down upon by Erwin here, he already feels humiliated and embarrassed and as though he’s being treated like he’s worthless, because Erwin IS treating him like that here. All while Erwin stands there, expressionless, making statements like he doesn’t want to have to use any rough treatment, etc... while at the same time ordering Mike to do just that. Already, Erwin is sending Levi the message that he’s a liar and a manipulator who thinks nothing of putting another human being’s face in shit. And then, to top that off, he shows Levi that he’s willing to hurt, maybe even kill, his two friends to get what he wants.

Is it any wonder Levi hated Erwin as much as he did at the beginning? After a lifetime in the Underground where, from the time of his birth, he had to deal with him and those he cares about being treated like worthless trash. It would be a miracle if Levi DIDN’T want to kill Erwin at this point. To have to then submit to him willingly, after all of that, must have been beyond humiliating for him.

Erwin continues to be manipulative here too, when after Levi gives his name, Erwin’s attitude suddenly shifts, and he smiles at Levi and gets down on one knee with him, in the filth, his entire demeanor seeming to shift into an abruptly friendly one as he offers his deal to Levi. Again, that whole good cop/bad cop thing. At the same time, he continues to threaten Levi by telling him if he refuses his offer, he’ll hand them all over to the MP’s and that, given their crimes, they shouldn’t expect to be treated with any kind of decency. What’s kind of funny about this statement from Erwin is that up until now, Erwin and Mike have done anything but treat Levi decently.

Okay, one more important point to make about this chapter, and it goes back to what I said earlier about Levi not wanting anything to do with the SC, and how that tells us Levi really didn’t want to go through with Furlan’s plans.

After Erwin makes his offer, we see Levi look over at Furlan, who’s giving him an intent look, and in the next panel, we see an almost surprised, or astonished look on Levi’s face, like he can’t believe Furlan is asking him to do this, before he grits his teeth in obvious frustration, and then accepts Erwin’s offer to join the SC. What this tells us is that Levi only takes Erwin’s offer because Furlan wanted him to. Because this was all part of Furlan’s plan, to go through with Lobov’s commission, to get caught by the SC, etc... It’s clear Levi never wanted this, and he’s upset at having to do it. But the fact he agrees after looking over at Furlan and seeing him implore Levi with his eyes tells us, once again, that Levi is willing to sacrifice his own desires for the desires of others. That being his two friends.

For them, he’ll join the Survey Corps, even as every one of his instincts is probably screaming at him that this is a bad idea.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for the first chapter of “No Regrets”. There’s a lot more to unpack in this manga than I think people realize. I hope whoever took the time to read my long ass post found it at least a little worth while. I’ll be moving on to chapter two next!

3. Chapter 2: One Arrow

Alright, so onto chapter 2 of “No Regrets”.

I want to talk a little about these opening panels, when Levi, Furlan and Isabel are being driven to HQ by carriage. They seem unimportant, but I think they’re actually really important in understanding Levi’s psychology going into this new situation they’re all in.

We see the interior of the carriage, with Levi and the other two, along with an escort from the SC. Furlan and Isabel are both looking out the window of the carriage, and in particular, Isabel seems incredibly excited and in awe of the passing view. She’s stood up, with her face pressed to the window. And in the next panel, we see her looking at a little girl with her mother, dressed nicely and holding a doll. This really encapsulates everything Isabel herself has probably never had. A reliable mother to take care of her, fancy clothes and toys to play with. Essentially, an actual childhood. We see Isabel’s face in the window, and her mouth is open in wonder, her eyes wide. Like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. It emphasizes the depravation and lack of privilege she’s endured all her life. Meanwhile, by contrast, Levi sits there with his head bowed down, ignoring the passing scenery, looking deeply unhappy, even depressed. When he does look up though, he sees Isabel looking out the window, and on the close up shot of him, he’s got an almost thoughtful expression, if still extremely dour. No doubt, Levi is feeling uneasy and uncertain about the situation they’ve all gotten themselves into here, but I’m also sure that he’s unable to ignore the bubbling over excitement of Isabel, her obvious joy in being, at last, on the surface. I’ll get more into this later in the post, when we see Levi really considering his friends and their dreams, and how it influences and dictates his own decisions.

But first lets talk a little about Erwin and his role in all of this.

Now at the time this series came out, Erwin’s actual, motivating reasons for doing what he does weren’t yet known, so it’s interesting to read into his actions in this story with that context. I have no doubt that Erwin really DOES care about humanity, and wants to fight for it, and its salvation. But as we come to learn from the main series, he places his own dream of proving his father right about the existence of human’s beyond the walls above what’s best for humanity, and it puts his actions in this story into an interesting, if harsher light.

No doubt, Erwin is a master manipulator. He plays both sides expertly against the middle in this story, and I’ll get more into it by the end, when his actual plan is revealed to Levi. But what I don’t see often discussed is how, exactly, Erwin got all the parts moving in the direction he wanted, to obtain a specific outcome, and how he pretty ruthlessly uses so many people as pawns to do so. It’s obvious from the context of what we later learn in the story that Erwin first spread a rumor about having evidence against Lovof stealing funds in order to force him into tipping his hand by trying to make a preemptive move. What I see people miss all the time, or at least, fail to discuss, is how Erwin also, at the same time, made it public knowledge within the Capital, that he would be going after a group of thugs in the Underground who had shown exceptional skill using ODM gear, and that he would be making contact with them as soon as possible to try and enlist them into military service, and how Erwin made these plans public specifically to encourage Lobov into seeking out Levi and his friends for the exact purpose of both implicating Lobov in a crime, and gaining Levi’s and his friends strength for the SC. One, by hiring a group of criminals to steal from Erwin and attempt to assassinate him, so he could use that as leverage in case he wasn’t able to obtain proof of Lobov’s further criminal activities, thus having two means of getting rid of one of the SC’s biggest threats, and at the same time, also manage to score for the SC the exceptional skill of Levi and his friends through forced enlistment. He even says to Zackely at one point “I intend to make use of anyone who has even the smallest potential during this expedition.”. Erwin manipulated and had control of this entire scenario from the start, and from behind these scenes moved all of these people exactly how he wanted to, to achieve his goals. That’s pretty impressive, but also pretty scary. Well, I’ll talk more about all of that when we get to it later on.

Back to Levi and his friends though.

We see them arrive at the SC HQ, and a really important conversation happens between Levi and Furlan.

Furlan seems like he’s almost bitten off more than he can chew here, beginning to express his concern to Levi about what joining the SC actually means, before Levi cuts him off, telling him he’s got no intention of enlisting, and that he only agreed to come along so that he could get closer to Erwin and then kill him. I think Levi genuinely felt murderous towards Erwin at this point, and really means what he says here, at least about killing him. Though given the end of chapter 1, with the significant look shared between Levi and Furlan, and Levi’s begrudging acceptance of Erwin’s offer, it’s obvious that Levi also agreed to come because that’s what Furlan wanted him to do, to give them the opportunity they needed. Levi’s just feeling incredibly emotional here, I think, with the way Erwin treated all of them hot on his mind. Furlan tries to implore Levi to forget about killing Erwin, that it isn’t necessary anymore because of his own plan, and the almost certainty that Lobov and his people won’t ever try to make contact with them again. He tells Levi, if he just listens to him and follows his plan, “I know it’ll work. Trust me, Levi.” Furlan asking him to trust him pulls a meaningful look from Levi, seeming to break through Levi’s angry insistence on killing Erwin. This is where the manga improved on Levi’s characterization and motivation by leaps and bounds over the visual novel, because in the next few panels, we see Levi walking away, with Furlan calling after him, concerned, but we get to see Levi’s inner thoughts, and he’s remembering specifically Furlan insisting to him that “one day, we’ll get outta this trash heap and live up above.” We see Levi thinking about Furlan’s hopes and dreams in these panels, and he has a saddened, and guilt-ridden look on his face, like he feels bad about having dismissed Furlan’s plans back there in favor of his own plans for revenge. We didn’t get any of this in the visual novel, instead the text there making Levi look like he refused to consider anyones position but his own in this whole situation. But here, Levi is clearly concerned with and considering Furlan’s desires.

We go into a flashback then, with Furlan explaining to Levi his plans, telling him that “nothing’s gone according to plan... But with you here we’ll really be able to raise hell.” Furlan’s trying to explain to Levi that since he now has Levi’s strength to rely on, they can actually get something done once they get into the Survey Corps. It almost seems like Furlan’s been planning on trying something like this, or at least, had some sort of loose plan about getting to the surface, even before he met Levi. It’s obviously something he’s been dreaming about for a long time.

Then Isabel comes back, and she’s been roughed up and assaulted, and we learn from Furlan asking her if she went to see those “low-life scumbags again?” that this has obviously happened to her before, that she’s been associating with some bad people and it’s gotten her hurt. She denies it and lies about having just tripped, but clearly neither Levi or Furlan are buying that. Levi asks Isabel what happened to her hair, and Isabel reacts badly, running away and hiding in her room. We get a close up of Levi holding a knife in his hands, foreshadowing his own intentions. Later that night, Furlan hears Isabel crying in her room, and her chanting to herself over and over that she’s going to “kill you”, presumably meaning the men that hurt her earlier. Furlan stands there lamenting that he thinks both Levi and Isabel are going “mad”, and that all they can think about is dragging everyone else down to where they are. He’s obviously terrified that he’s going to lose both his friends to the savagery and ruthlessness of the Underground, that both of them are going to end up becoming lost to their own anger and pain. He starts to say “That’s why I...” before Levi suddenly comes back in, holding a bloody knife, clearly having returned from exacting revenge on the men who hurt Isabel. Furlan asks Levi “Did you kill them...?”, and Levi doesn’t answer, but we see a completely resigned, even sad look on his face. This of course is the world Levi comes from. It’s the world he was raised in. A world of kill or be killed. Levi must have figured, if he didn’t go out and kill those men that had hurt Isabel now, then someday, they would end up going too far with her, and kill her instead. But Furlan clearly doesn’t understand, and doesn’t relate to that kind of mindset, despite coming from the Underground too. Of course, Furlan wasn’t raised by Kenny the Ripper either. This is how Levi was taught to deal with his problems, and Furlan can only see him spiraling into an abyss from which he fears Levi won’t return.

We cut back to the present then, and Levi is sitting up on the roof of the SC HQ, again remembering Furlan’s words about “This is our chance. Trust me.”. Getting to the surface and finding better lives for themselves is Furlan’s dream. The fact that Levi keeps remembering it, keeps remembering Furlan insisting and pushing the idea of the possibility of living on the surface, shows that this is probably something he would talk about all the time with Levi, trying to get him to agree to it, to believe in it. Once again, Levi is contemplating the hopes and dreams of his friends. We get another close up of him holding a knife, and it represents, I think, his struggle between his desire for revenge against Erwin, and his desire to help Furlan realize what, to Levi, is probably an unrealistic goal.

We then get Furlan and Isabel joining Levi, commenting on how beautiful the night sky is, and asking Levi how he could keep it to himself. Levi snips testily at Furlan that him and Isabel are so loud, that he’d be too irritated to get any killing done, and then Furlan looking clearly unsettled by the remark. But it’s obvious, given the context of the previous panels of Levi’s thinking about Furlan’s dream, that Levi is just being peevish and saying things out of frustration and confusion. He doesn’t really mean what he says here. He’s taking his frustration out on Furlan by saying what he knows will upset him the most. What this also tells us is that Levi is very much aware of how bothered Furlan is by Levi’s willingness to kill. He isn’t at all oblivious to it, and given his resigned, saddened expression after coming back from killing the men who assaulted Isabel, I would say Levi even understands Furlan’s dismay. That’s a glimpse at Levi’s famous compassion.

The next panels show the three of them bonding, sitting together and admiring the night sky. Isabel asks Levi if the stars are as pretty as where he used to live. I’m just going to chalk the mistake in continuity here up to this manga coming out before, I believe, Levi’s backstory of being born in a brothel in the Underground was established by Isayama. Regardless of this mistake, this is an important moment between the three of them. You can see the awe and wonder they all feel, looking up and seeing the sky fully for what has to be the first time in all their lives. Remember, all three of them have lived literally underground their entire lives, with little to no sunlight, stagnant, stale air, hideously unclean living conditions, etc... It must be overwhelming to them , just to see nature in all its splendor like that. It’s after sharing this moment together that Levi tells Furlan that he’s decided he won’t kill Erwin for now. He looks at him and says “I’m going to trust you.”. And Furlan smiles at him, clearly happy and relieved. This scene is really important, because we’re seeing Levi choose Furlan’s dream over his own desire for revenge. We see Levi place Furlan’s desires over his own, which is totally in line with how Levi is in the main AoT storyline. He decides his revenge can wait, that it’s not as important as helping Furlan achieve his goals. What’s particularly remarkable about this, I think, is that it doesn’t appear that Levi ever dreamed of going to the surface himself, and likely that he never even considered it a possibility. So just like Levi fights, later on, for a world without fear and violence, for humanity’s salvation, even as all his life experiences tell him it likely isn’t possible, we see the Levi doing the same here, deciding to fight for his friend’s dream, even as to him, it seems unrealistic. It’s obviously a pivotal moment too, when Levi tells him he’s going to trust him, because this ties in hugely with the theme which applies so much to Levi throughout the whole series, of never knowing if it’s better to rely on himself solely, to trust himself, or to trust and rely on his friends and their capabilities. Levi chooses, here, to trust in his friends, and that will obviously have it’s own ramifications down the line. Again, this is an area in which the manga improves radically over the visual novel, which had no instances whatsoever of Levi struggling with the question of the choices we make, which is absurd, since it’s one of the driving factors behind who Levi is, and how he ultimately came to see the world as he does. It was precisely this struggle between choices, between trying to choose correctly, giving so much thought and effort to our choices, and still sometimes coming out wrong, that shaped Levi into being able to accept his lack of control and instead of regretting it, using it to keep fighting.

4. Chapter 3: ... Of Revolution

Okay, so on to chapter 3 of “No Regrets”!

I’ve got a few observations, so I’ll just delve in.

First thing, and once again, I found this a huge improvement over the visual novel, but we get more insight here into the reason Erwin was so intent on recruiting Levi. During the scene in which he’s arguing with the other squad leaders about letting a group of “criminals” into their organization, Erwin pushes back against the other scouts deriding Levi and his friends. I really loved Erwin’s line here, where he says “You’re right. These people had no training. They did not earn wings from us. They grew their own, out of necessity.” This shows us that Erwin has a grasp and an appreciation for the hardship Levi and his friends faced while growing up, while most of the other SC leaders and even regular recruits can only look down on them and see them as gutter trash. This shows Erwin’s own scope of vision, his ability to look past a person’s upbringing and background and not make judgments about them based on that. More telling still is his comment about how “those wings will play a part in revolutionizing this organization.”. He wanted Levi’s skills in particular because he knew having someone like Levi around, with exceptional ability, would shift the way they all fight Titans. He was, as always, looking for ways to increase the effectiveness of the SC, and was willing to do whatever he could, and through any means necessary, to ensure it.

The next thing that caught my attention is the glare Levi and Erwin share during the trio’s introduction to the rest of the soldiers. Erwin’s right in front of Levi, standing there, reminding him of his anger and humiliation no doubt, and I think that leads directly into and impacts the next scene, when Flagon shows them their sleeping arrangements. Levi’s already no doubt irritated by having to see Erwin again, and then Flagon makes his frankly deeply disparaging remark about Levi and his friends having spent their whole lives living in a trash heap, implying that they’re filthy gutter trash, and so surely are incapable of keeping themselves and their environment clean. Levi, understandably, reacts badly to this, and gets in Flagon’s face, asking him what he just said, before Furlan intervenes. When you consider the way Erwin already made Levi feel so humiliated and Levi’s subsequent anger at it, then having to see Erwin again not long before this scene, and hearing Flagon just callously make an accusation like that must have only infuriated Levi more. I think, once again, the manga is doing an infinitely better job of portraying the tension, then, that’s starting to form between Levi and Furlan. Furlan scolds Levi after Flagon leaves, almost talking down to him when he says “Didn’t I tell you not to cause trouble?!”. Almost like he’s talking to some misbehaving little kid. Levi’s expression in the following panel says a lot, I think. Levi looks almost chastised, like he knows he’s upset Furlan, before he tries to explain himself, asking Furlan “Didn’t you hear how he talked about us? Like shit calling shit dirty.”. It’s really interesting what this says about the power dynamic in their relationship. Levi is ostensibly the leader of their group, but Furlan’s acting, in a lot of ways, like he’s the one in charge and he expects Levi to fall in line. Clearly, he’s not afraid of scolding Levi, or challenging him. All of Furlan’s insistence that they lay low and not do anything to draw attention to themselves must only be chaffing though at Levi’s already heated feelings about the kind of treatment they’re receiving, how they’re being talked down to, etc... It must be galling to him, to see Furlan not seeming to care that they’re all being so deeply disrespected. But he still continues to defer to Furlan, and agree to go along with his plan for now, though he makes his displeasure known by calling it a pain in the ass.

But seeing Erwin, and then being treated the way they were by Flagon, seems to have rekindled Levi’s desire to take his revenge, and he reminds Furlan that he’ll continue to go along with his plan, but that he’s still going to kill Erwin. Once again, we see Levi being pulled in two different directions. He’s giving priority to Furlan’s plans and wishes, but he’s still thinking about getting Erwin back. He’s annoyed that they weren’t assigned to Erwin’s squad, probably because it means it’s going to limit their contact, giving him less opportunities to kill him. Another line that I think signifies Lev’s annoyance at Furlan and how, well, dismissive he is of Levi’s own feelings, is after he tells them they have to clean the area around their beds before leaving for training, and in response to Isabel’s protests, he says “You wouldn’t want me to cause trouble, would you?”. He’s throwing Furlan’s words back in his face here, and it seems clear to me that Levi is frustrated and doesn’t appreciate the way Furlan’s been talking to him, or how little consideration for his own wishes he’s shown. There’s a lot of tension there.

Another really important scene is the one in the training yard, so I’ll got through it here.

Particularly when Isabel is talking to the Scout helping her with horse riding, and they get to talking about life in the Underground, and then Levi. What Isabel says, and the visual of the panel here, is particularly powerful. She says “It got so I thought I was gonna die. But life’s a little better since Levi saved me from that.”. And we see in the panel Levi lifting Isabels’ head up, obviously checking if she’s alive. There’s all these people, collapsed around her, and the fact that Levi is checking to see if she’s alive is interesting, because it makes me think this is something Levi would regularly do. That he would check to see if anyone was alive when he came across people collapsed in the streets. It’s probably not unusual to come across dead bodies in the Underground, and for someone like Levi, who’s lived there all his life, he’s no doubt seen plenty. The fact he checks Isabel shows a lack of callousness towards the sight, which is incredible, to not become uncaring or apathetic towards suffering, even when you’re surrounded by it your whole life. It’s a highly unusual quality to have, but of course, it makes perfect sense for Levi, who’s so full of compassion.

Nevertheless, it would have been simpler for him to just keep moving and ignore her, but instead he stopped, and when he discovered she was still alive, he took her in and gave her food and shelter and a home. She would have died otherwise. Levi had no obligation towards her, he had no, really good reason to do something so selfless, and yet, he did. And this truly is remarkable, especially when you consider the kind of cut throat world Levi grew up in, the kind of ruthless people he’d encountered, and even lived with, like Kenny, all his life.

Then there’s Furlan’s discussion with another soldier, and his story about Levi. The most interesting thing Furlan says here is how, after his own friends turned on him, he’s followed Levi ever since. And then he says “Though it might be problematic making him any kind of leader!”. It’s interesting what this reveals to us about Levi. People want to follow him because he’s so strong, but Levi himself has no desire for power, or control over others. People willingly attach themselves to him, because they think Levi can protect them, but Levi isn’t any kind of natural leader. So we know Levi was more or less forced into the role of leader by way of others seeking him out and assigning him that role. What’s interesting about this is how it, once again, reveals the kind of person Levi is. He could easily have rejected all of these people and abandoned them. One thing we know is that Levi didn’t need any help surviving on his own in the Underground. But instead Levi allows them to stay with him and willingly offers his help and protection, and though it’s probably more of a pain and a nuisance to him than anything else. It shows that Levi’s never been able to turn away from those seeking his help.

Which leads nicely into the next scene.

I’ve talked about this scene before, and how disappointed I was that they didn’t include it in the OVA. This also wasn’t included in the visual novel, which is, once more, just another way in which the manga is superior.

Flagon is once again criticizing Levi for holding his blades “wrong”, telling him he’s going to end up getting killed outside the walls. And then the training exercise begins, and we see one of the other soldiers trying to compete with Levi, and growing increasingly incensed and annoyed at Levi’s prowess. He thinks “These vagrants with no knowledge as soldiers...” and then “I trained half to death, and these criminals think they’re better?!”. What’s interesting is to see that while this soldier is fuming internally over Levi’s perceived slight of him, glaring at him angrily, Levi clearly hasn’t even taken notice of him. This isn’t a competition to Levi at all. He’s just there to do the exercises. He’s staring straight ahead, blank faced as always.

Now what happens next is once more hugely revealing as to Levi’s character. The infuriated soldier decides he’s not going to accept that Levi’s better than him, and so he intentionally pushes off of a tree and cuts Levi off mid-flight. What struck me about this is how incredibly dangerous it was. Levi’s going, presumably, full speed, through this obstacle course, and this dude, out of petty jealousy, cuts him off by flying right in front of and past him, forcing Levi to pull back and change direction. A stunt like this could have easily resulted in serious injury for Levi, or even death, if he weren’t as gifted as he is. To top it off, this soldier then brags about it, calling out to Levi “Don’t get left behind!”. Of course, his arrogance leads to immediate disaster, as the soldier that went through the course before lost one of their blades in the dummy Titan, and this dude’s flying towards it at top speed, with no way to stop himself or change direction in time. He’s about to be impaled by a blade. Considering the danger he’s just placed Levi in, then, it truly is a testament to Levi’s goodness, that he launches off the tree he’s stopped on, racing ahead and slicing the stray blade free before the other soldier can make contact, resulting in him harmlessly crashing into the pad, instead of dying. This really shows how Levi’s first instinct is always to help others. Even when others have just not only treated him badly, but even endangered his life. He doesn’t owe this soldier anything, and by all rights should be extremely pissed at him for his petty display before. But instead Levi just automatically reacts to his life being threatened by saving the man. He doesn’t even scold him afterward or express anger, just flies off and continues the course.

What makes this whole thing kind of sad is both the soldier’s and Flagon’s reaction to this. The soldier is still angry and upset over Levi’s superior ability, wondering how he can be so fast, not even sparring a thought of appreciation for him just saving his life. And then Flagon grudgingly admits to Levi’s fighting prowess, but continues to doubt him and his ability to stay disciplined. Even after saving one of his own men’s lives, he still continues to look down on Levi. That’s pretty messed up. Levi glares back at him after, as if to say “Who’s the one who’s going to get people killed out there?”. Levi saved a soldiers life, while Flagon could only sit and watch. It’s interesting too how this, tragically, foreshadows what’s to come though, with Levi not being able to save the people he cares the most about. But we’ll get into that when we get there.

Also, just gotta mention also the way Levi reacts to Isabel’s getting upset after he bonks her in the head and calls her stupid. He looks surprised when she starts crying, and it’s clear he didn’t mean to actually hurt her feelings, and it’s just really sweet, the way he rubs her head after. He obviously felt bad.

5. Chapter 4: Proof

Alright, just a few things to say about chapter 4 of “No Regrets”.

One thing that I love that was in the manga that, once again, wasn’t in the visual novel, was Levi’s reaction as they ride out from Shinganshina, as well as Furlan’s and Isabel’s. This kind of internal exploration of these characters who had never been to the surface, who had spent their whole lives in darkness, getting to see the sky for the first time, was something that was entirely absent from the visual novel, and it’s one of its biggest weaknesses. But here, we see Levi looking up at the stone structure of the wall gate, and for a moment, he imagines the ceiling of the Underground, before they emerge out into the open and the full view of the sky appears for the first time. Levi squints up at the glaring sun, and we see an expression of genuine awe and amazement on his face, as well as Furlan and Isabel. This is the first time any of them have experienced anything like this, and the overwhelming beauty of it for them is wonderfully visualized here. The way Levi goes from seeing the claustrophobia and imprisonment of the Underground, and how that opens up into a clear, blue, ending sky, really symbolizes him experiencing for the first time in his life a kind of freedom he’s never before had. And there’s something incredibly moving, but also incredibly tragic about that.

Now another point I want to address, where the manga and anime both differ from the visual novel, in a really vital way, is how here, we see Furlan lamenting that they’ve left the walls, saying “This is terrible. I never meant to leave the walls. If we’d followed the plan, we would have grabbed them and snuck away by now!”. This shows that they’ve been looking for the documents in vain for several months now, and still have yet to find them. Furlan’s plan had obviously originally been to find them and then get out of dodge, but because they weren’t able, they ended up having to wait around longer, until the time came for the expedition. Now how this is presented in the visual novel really struck me as horrifically out of character for Levi. In the novel, it’s explained that the reason they haven’t left is because Levi kept insisting that he had to kill Erwin, refusing to leave until he could do so, and if not for that, Furlan would have forgotten about the documents and simply had them all desert the SC, back to the Underground. Levi intentionally ignoring the safety of his friends for revenge on Erwin really goes against everything we know about him from canon, and was a pretty glaring detail, so I’m glad they nixed that here. There’s no mention of Levi forcing them to stay because of his need for revenge, but rather an implication that none of them were willing to leave until they got the documents. They took this a step further in the OVA even, with that one scene in which Levi argues with Furlan and Isabel, insisting that if it comes to them having to leave the walls, he’s going to go alone, and he wants them to stay behind. This really is an important distinction to make in Levi’s characterization. We know he always places the safety of his comrades above all else, if he can, and tries his best to keep them alive. And the whole reason he agreed to Furlan’s plan in the first place was because he wanted to help Furlan’s and Isabel’s dream of living up above come true. He would never purposefully endanger their lives, or so thoughtlessly dismiss their safety. This is something which gets further corrected later in the story, too, when Levi makes his fateful choice, and I’ll get more into it there as well. One detail though is how Levi tells Furlan not to worry, that he’ll “do something about the Titans.”. Levi clearly believes in his own strength, and believes it will be enough to protect his friends at this point, which goes back to the theme of him struggling to know which is better to rely on, oneself, or ones comrades. Here, he’s relying on himself to protect them. He asks Furlan “Don’t you trust me?”. He’s reminding Furlan that he’s never let him down before, and he promises he won’t now either.

We see Furlan later finding that full trust again, when Levi engages with the abnormal titan, and sees his fearlessness, giving him his own strength to fight. It speaks volumes about the kind of camaraderie shared between all three of them, that they’re able to work so smoothly and effectively together the first time any of them have ever fought a Titan, and how deeply Furlan and Isabel trust Levi to get them through any dangerous situation, as they willingly follow him into battle.

6. Chapter 5: Hearts

Alright, onto chapter 5 of “No Regrets” and then I’ll do the last three chapters tomorrow.

The first thing I took note of was how after everyone gets to the castle ruins, Levi reminds Furlan and Isabel that they’re still outside the walls, and that anything could happen, so they should “stay sharp.”. Once again we see Levi being concerned with the safety of his friends, remind them not to put their guards down. This leads into the next scene, where Furlan remarks that he never thought they’d be able to stop a titan so easily, and reaffirms his faith in Levi’s strength by saying as long as Levi’s with them, they’ll survive somehow. Levi responds to this with some self-doubt, which is really interesting and will tie into some other observations I’ve made about this chapter, later on. He says if there’s more than one of those abnormal titans, he’s not so sure they’ll be alright. Clearly, he’s concerned for the wellbeing of his friends while they’re on the outside like this. He doesn’t feel totally confident.

He then asks Furlan if he’s sure Erwin’s brought the documents with him outside the Walls, which tells us that they’ve obviously had previous discussions about this, that it was a group decision between them, of the necessity of leaving the walls in order to get close enough to Erwin to get the papers. Furlan says he made sure, talking about how he searched Erwin’s office top to bottom, observing that he found a bunch of unrelated documents, and in particular, a locked drawer which he found suspicious. Now what I find interesting here is Furlan’s internal thoughts, because I think he realized Erwin’s intentions already, but he dismissed his suspicions based on them seeming unlikely to him. But in his memory, he thinks, when he sees the locked drawer, that it’s almost like it was made to be searched, and upon opening it, he finds plenty of secret looking documents, but not the ones they need. He then wonders if Erwin is trying to tell him that they’re not there. What’s so interesting about this is just how deep is shows Erwin’s manipulation of this situation actually goes, and how many steps ahead he actually is. We saw in chapter 3 how Erwin was standing at his office window, observing Furlan, which tells us that he was always aware that Furlan was going to try and find the documents, which in turn lead to Erwin arranging his office to nudge Furlan in the right direction, of thinking the documents aren’t anywhere at HQ. Furlan picks up on this possibility, that Erwin is in fact manipulating them, wondering to himself if Erwin WANTS him to think he has the papers on him, giving him the “run around”, but he dismisses the thought out of hand a moment later. What this tells me is just how in control Erwin is here, and it made me think that it’s possible Erwin influenced Furlan’s thinking in this direction, to assuming Erwin had the papers with him, as a means of keeping him, Levi and Isabel there in the military longer, delaying their escape, so that he could intentionally force them outside the walls on an expedition, so he could see what they were actually capable of. At the end of chapter 4, after seeing Levi take down that abnormal titan, he observes to himself, “So your wings are the real thing, after all, Levi.”. This is just speculation on my part, but given what a masterful manipulator Erwin really is, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was his plan the whole time, knowing Levi and his friends wouldn’t and couldn’t leave until they had the documents.

Alright, next observation. It’s kind of funny how, after laying out his plan to search Erwin’s bags with Isabel, and asking Levi to guard the passageway Erwin went down with Shadis, and to stop him if he started to come back before they were finished, Levi’s first assumption is that he should start a fight with Erwin, lol.

More interesting is when Furlan says to Levi “Don’t kill him, even by accident. After all, if we lose an officer outside the walls, we’ll be in trouble, too.”. Because it tells us that they weren’t ever planning on killing Erwin outside of the walls when they went out on expedition. The goal was to try and find the documents, and hoping going beyond the walls would yield an opportunity to do so. This is another, vital change from the visual novel. In that, Levi is still obsessing over killing Erwin, over any consideration for the original plan, ranting even that he’s going to make Erwin get down on his knees and beg for his life before killing him, and that just struck me as wildly out of character for him. They wisely took out that entire piece of dialog here, and instead we lead into a scene of Levi guarding the passageway, and remembering the whole reason for why he agreed to come to the surface in the first place. We go into a flashback of Lovof’s messenger making contact with Levi and the others, propositioning them with Lovof’s commission. What’s really important in this scene is Levi’s initial reaction to the proposal. He’s immediately skeptical and disbelieving, and doesn’t want anything to do with it. He tells the messenger so, and tells him “Go back up there and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anything.”. Levi shows great instincts here, sensing the danger present for him and his friends, and outright rejects any association. It’s Furlan, then, who steps in and shows interest in the deal, calling the messenger back. Levi’s clearly confused, but yields to Furlan’s look, and Furlan proceeds to tell the messenger that they’ll have to think about it, but that they’re interested. Levi’s clearly not happy about this, and once the messenger leaves, he begins to protest, but Furlan cuts him off and starts to lay out his plan to tail the messenger to find out who his employer is. Isabel expresses disbelief that Furlan actually means to go through with this plan, and Furlan again brings up the dream of making it out of the Underground, talking about how rare a chance it is, to actually live in the Capital, obviously trying to entice both Levi and Isabel with the notion. Levi points out that even if they get the documents, it’ll just lead to them being Lovof’s next targets, and Furlan responds with his plan to blackmail Lovof instead. Levi’s still dubious on this idea, asking Furlan if he really thinks “those pigs will care about a threat from the Underground?”, and Furlan responds that it’s worth a shot. He then implores Levi and Isabel again, saying “Come on, you two, don’t you want to make it up there?”, and we cut back to Levi in the present, contemplating Furlan’s words. Again, we see Levi thinking long and hard on Furlan’s dreams here, over any thoughts he has of Erwin or revenge. He’s prioritizing Furlan’s wishes over his own still, thoughts occupied by what his friend wants.

Now, this leads into a really interesting and meaningful encounter with Erwin.

Well, the first thing I notice in the exchange is when Erwin calls Levi’s friends his “subordinates”, and Levi responds with “They’re not my subordinates…”. This tells us so much about how he views himself in relation to Furlan and Isabel. He doesn’t see himself as their leader. He doesn’t want to control them. He just sees himself as their friend, and protector.

Now the conversation between Levi and Erwin gets really interesting when Erwin starts talking about having seen Levi take down the abnormal titan from earlier, and he observes that with a natural like Levi around, the others must feel safer. Levi looks at Erwin with wide eyes, before responding to him that the reason he was able to figure out how to fight that titan before was because he watched how it moved as it ate another soldier. I think Levi’s feelings of guilt here are pretty obvious. He feels bad for having watched another soldier die, and using his observations while watching to figure out how to kill the titan. It’s like he’s arguing with Erwin here, telling him the others shouldn’t feel safer with him around, that they shouldn’t rely on him. Levi is showing doubt in himself here, again, just like earlier when he pushed back again Furlan’s claims that as long as he’s with them, they’ll be safe. Interestingly, it’s Erwin who essentially tells Levi here that he shouldn’t feel guilty, that the SC is built on those types of sacrifices, and that as long as they’re fighting to take back the world for humanity, none of the soldiers there would feel regret for dedicating themselves to such a cause. I think this is actually the start of the turning point in how Levi views Erwin. He looks at him here with an almost astonished expression, like he’s seeing Erwin in a sudden, new light. Like he’s starting to doubt his own, initial impressions of him, and wonder if maybe he wasn’t totally right. But before he can think on it further, Isabel shows up and calls him away.

Levi then learns that Furlan and Isabel weren’t able to find the documents, essentially confirming that if they’re anywhere, they have to be on Erwin’s person, which leads to the inevitability of having to kill him if they want to get their hands on the papers. Levi’s find with this, because it’s what he wants to do anyway, even as Furlan shows continued apprehension.

And then we get the scene with Hange.

It’s pretty funny that Levi was about to gut Hange, for real, when he thought she had overheard their conversation. It tells us how far he’s willing to go though to protect his friends.

Still, this whole scene is actually pretty moving, in its way. Because Hange is really the first person to express genuine gratitude towards Levi and his friends, and treat them as genuine equals, to which we see Isabel in particular respond after seemingly being unimpressed. Even Levi seems stunned, muttering out “thanks”, like he doesn’t know what else to say as Hange heaps praise on them. It’s also funny how Furlan has to remind Levi to “be nice.”. Poor Levi just doesn’t know how to socialize.

But the important part of this scene is when Hange points out how everyone there is wanting to know how Levi was able to take down a titan so easily, drawing their attention, and Levi’s in particular, to the other soldiers watching them. Hange affirms what Erwin had said to Levi earlier, about how his presence there made the others feel safer, when she says “You’ve given them hope that humans don’t have to lose to the titans if we fight correctly.”. And we see here, I think, the first seeds being planted in Levi’s mind that he might be able to do more, that he might be able to actually help these people. He’s been told as much twice in quick succession. I think this is where Levi starts to get the idea for the first time that he might have found somewhere where he belongs. We’ll get more into this next chapter, when I talk about his conversation with Isabel. But for now, after Hange asks him again if he has any advice, he tells them he just has his own way of doing things, and he can’t teach it to anybody. When she tries to insist, he blows her off and looks away.

Furlan asks Levi, after Hange leaves, what the big deal is in just showing them some simple trick, and Levi says he doesn’t want to be responsible for the loves of anyone other than you two. This is really important, because it again tells us a lot about Levi’s psychology here. He doesn’t want to teach these people how to fight because he doesn’t want to be responsible for them getting hurt or killed. Just as he expressed discomfort earlier with what Erwin said, and his own sense of guilt over how he figured out how to fight the titan, Levi really seems to me like he’s afraid here of failing to protect others, and actually harbors deep doubts about his own ability to do so. So even as we know people tend to flock around Levi and follow him in the belief he can protect them, Levi himself is afraid that he isn’t strong enough to help them the way they want him to. It’s indicative of someone who’s experienced deep loss in their life, which we know Levi has at this point. Someone who’s afraid of making attachments because he doesn’t want to have to experience the pain of that loss ever again. And it shows a painful insecurity in Levi. He wants to help people, but he doesn’t want to end up failing them, or doing something which could lead to them getting hurt or killed. He doesn’t want to be responsible for their lives, because he’s afraid he can’t be.

Furlan tells him not to be so dramatic, and Levi doesn’t say anything in return, but we see a resigned, saddened look on his face, like he knows Furlan wouldn’t understand if he tried to explain how he feels.

Then we get Isabel’s comment about not understanding trying to take back the world for humanity, but her starting to realize the Scouts genuinely believe in what they’re doing. We see Levi’s silence again in response, but this one is more contemplative. He himself is starting to realize the same as Isabel. That these people really believe in what they’re saying. And again we go back to the first seeds of a sense of belonging starting to develop in Levi, even before his big moment with Erwin at the end. He’s starting to sense that maybe he’s found a place where he belongs, where he can actually use his abilities in a way that could make an actual difference in the world. It’s subconscious at this point, but Levi is starting to get that sense I think.

7. Chapter 6: Living Creatures

Okay, onto chapter 6 of “No Regrets”!

So the first thing I want to jump into here is, once again, something which the manga vastly improved on over the visual novel, and that was the scene following the flashback to Levi and his friends learning about the long-distance scouting formation before the expedition, and then Flagon’s instructions to them in the present. I don’t think this scene was even included in the visual novel, but it’s indispensable in understanding Levi’s mindset going into the fateful final act.

Isabel gets carried away by Flagon’s speech, and ends up saluting, expressing genuine enthusiasm for the SC’s cause, before realizing what she’s done and turning around, seeing Levi and Furlan looking back at her in silence. Furlan looks unimpressed, while Levi wears his usual stoic expression. You can’t tell one way or the other what he’s thinking, which is why the next scene is so hugely important, because we get a look into his inner thoughts.

I saw another person say not long ago that in this scene, Isabel expresses a desire to join the SC, and Levi blows her off and ignores her, only thinking about his revenge on Erwin, and to that person, I would like to ask ‘What scene were you reading?’, because that’s pretty much the opposite of what happens here. This scene reveals so much about Levi’s own, inner conflict, and how he’s beginning HIMSELF to understand and even sympathize with the cause of the SC, and the soldiers who have dedicated themselves to it. Let’s dissect it here a bit.

The scene takes place at night, before they ride out again, and Levi is sitting up with Furlan and Isabel, and he’s thinking quietly to himself. The first thing he’s recalling in his contemplation here is Sairam’s words, asking Levi if he knows how many elite soldiers have been eaten by Titans. This plainly shows Levi’s growing concern for Furlan and Isabel. The longer they spend outside the walls, the higher the risk of something going wrong, and that’s a worry that’s heavy on Levi’s mind here.

He then remembers, in quick succession, all these various interactions and the words of different people throughout his short time up here on the surface. He recalls Sairam hurling insults at him and his friends, calling them punks, and then Hange’s opposite words of encouragement and appreciation, telling them they’ve given everyone hope. He recalls Furlan’s words, telling Levi that with him there, they’ll really be able to raise hell, and then Isabel’s words, pointing out that the SC soldiers really believe their cause is worth dying for. Finally, Levi recalls Flagon’s degrading words, about how Levi and his friends have spent their whole lives in a trash heap, implying they’ll never amount to anything more than garbage, and last, he recalls Erwin’s words, how he’d seen the desire to kill in Levi during their first encounter.

All of this is hugely important to understanding Levi’s psychology, I think, and understanding his feelings of conflict and confusion, and how it ultimately plays into him making the choice he does. For Sairam’s and Flagon’s words, it’s the assumption people have made about Levi all his life, that he’s nothing but a worthless criminal who can’t do anything good for anyone, and Levi’s struggle to overcome that perception that people have of him. In contrast to that, Hange’s words are sending Levi the opposite message, that he isn’t just a worthless criminal, but someone who can actually contribute something positive and important to other people’s lives. He’s someone who can inspire hope. Something Levi’s always secretly wished he could do. And then there’s Furlan’s words, serving as a confirmation to Hange’s, in which he expresses his reliance on Levi to help make his own dreams come true, and Levi seeing himself in that role, of taking care of these two people whom he loves. And there’s Isabel’s words, a clear admiration and astonishment at the realization that these soldiers really believe in a cause bigger than themselves.

We see all of Levi’s greater hopes, his desire and wish to help other people, coming into conflict here with the way he’s been treated all his life by others, as a worthless, good for nothing criminal, and how that treatment has forced him to become the very thing they accuse him of being, someone ready and willing to kill, someone ready to commit crimes, etc… It’s Levi’s pride and anger battling with his deeper desire to protect and help others. The thing his life and his environment has FORCED him to become, against his truer nature. This is such a vital, important scene, and once again, the manga succeeds in explaining and revealing Levi’s complexity as a character, whereas the visual novel just flat out butchered it.

Now getting back to Levi’s interaction with Isabel in this scene, and the woeful misinterpretation I saw another person make one time.

Furlan is talking about how, given the complexity of the formation, they won’t be able to break ranks without being spotted, and he suggests they should just wait until they’re back behind the walls before trying to steal the documents again. Levi points out that if all three of them leave, then yeah, they’ll likely be spotted, and gives no further opinion. Already, Levi is thinking that maybe he could go after Erwin and the documents alone, thinking of taking the entire burden of the operation on himself, carrying the hopes and dreams of all of them on his shoulders alone, (which is why he later calls himself conceited and proud, having relied on his own strength entirely, instead of his friends too, ending in failure, which in turn goes back to the very beginning, with Levi’s statement about never knowing what the better option is, to rely on oneself, or on their comrades). But anyway, he doesn’t protest or try to counter Furlan when he says they should just focus on getting back alive. Isabel expresses agreement, and then says she knows the documents are important, but she also doesn’t want to get in the way of the SC and what they’re trying to do. Now here’s where the conversation gets really important in, once more, understanding Levi’s psychology.

He and Furlan look over at her, and while Levi stays silent, Furlan gets annoyed, chastising Isabel for seeming to suddenly care about the other soldiers, accusing her of only caring because Hange’s cookies were good. Furlan clearly doesn’t understand Isabel’s sentiments here, he doesn’t get why she suddenly seems concerned. He’s still focused on their own goals, and that’s all that matters to him. But Isabel begins to explain that it’s just that she’s starting to understand why the SC goes out beyond the walls, and likens it to how they felt living in the Underground, wanting to escape to the world above. She’s saying she understands that sense of being trapped, of being imprisoned, and the longing for freedom. And then she talks about seeing lots of her friends dying underground, while dreaming of making it “up there.”, and how seeing that made her feel like she HAD to get up there. It’s like Isabel is saying here that her dream to make it to the surface was strengthened by the dreams of others who never got to realize it for themselves, and that she wanted to make it to the surface, more than anything, as a way of giving the dreams of those who had died without realizing them, meaning. By making it to the surface FOR THEM. She starts to try and explain what she means, saying ‘It’s…” before Levi suddenly speaks for the first time since her monologue, saying “It’s like leaving the walls behind to kill the Titans…”

This is such a huge moment. Because contrary to what I saw this one person claim once, Levi is acknowledging Isabel’s feelings, and expressing empathy with them. He’s telling Isabel here that he understands what she means, because he feels it too. This desire to fight for freedom as a way to give meaning to the suffering of those who couldn’t escape their imprisonment. Levi, rather than ignoring or blowing Isabel off here, is relating to her. Her feelings are his own. Isabel smiles dreamily and says “Yeah.” Because Levi put her thoughts into words. She then keeps talking to Levi, starting to ramble about what she wants to do when they get to live in the Capital, how fun she thinks it would be to steal from all the “rich pigs” and use their money to buy useless junk, before she falls asleep.

Furlan then kind of bursts this bubble of reverie that Isabel and Levi have fallen into, and what he says here is, again, so important. He says “I’ve got to revise our plan. We’ll need to steal the documents before you and she start seriously talking about dedicating your hearts, or whatever.” Furlan’s perceived how Levi’s own feelings are beginning to match up with Isabel’s, how he’s starting to feel drawn to and sympathetic towards the SC’s cause, and he’s worried, because that’s not what they’re supposed to be there for. They’re supposed to be there to steal the documents so they can get a chance to live in the Capital. This is Furlan’s dream, ultimately, and he doesn’t want to lose sight of it to some unrealistic ideal. What’s so interesting here is the contrast between Levi and Furlan. While Levi is so quiet and reserved and hard to read, he’s actually showing himself to be more of the dreamer of the two, while Furlan is much more practical and less prone to fanciful, ideal notions like helping people beyond their own means.

We get one last shot of Levi gazing at Isable, thoughtfully. He’s still thinking about her words.

Alright, then comes the next big scene, with all of them outside again, to try Erwin’s new formation. We see, again, Levi’s gradually shifting opinion of Erwin already, when he remarks that Erwin’s idea is “brilliant”, once he sees how it works, expressing genuine admiration for it and Erwin’s mind. Levi still hates Erwin, and want to kill him, but we already see this desire in him starting to crack and come apart, replaced by an almost astonished curiosity instead. Like he isn’t sure what Erwin is, but he’s impressed, in spite of himself.

Then the storm comes and everything starts to fall apart.

Another, massive and vital change here in the manga from the visual novel is Levi’s reaction to the sudden storm. In the visual novel, Levi’s first and only response to it is that he can use it as cover to go after and kill Erwin, sparing no thought to the safety of his friends, or the other people in his squad. It was another instance in which I thought Levi’s characterization in the novel was just horribly butchered, and so once again, I was so glad to see them correct it here. Levi’s first response, after he, Furlan and Isabel start to lose contact with Flagon and the others, is to scream at his friends to not get separated. He's only worried about them in this moment, and wants to make sure they don’t lose contact with each other. He isn’t thinking at all about leaving them here yet. Just this small addition completely changes Levi’s motivations and priorities, leading into the fateful choice, and it’s immeasurably better characterization for him then what was presented in the visual novel. I’ll get more into it with the next chapter. So until then, thanks again for reading.

8. Chapter 7: Those Three

Okay, onto chapter 7 of “No Regrets”, and there’s really no need for me to say that this is by far the most heartbreaking chapter. I think, perhaps, the most tragic part of it all is that Levi made the choice that he did because he was actually trying to protect everyone. Now I’m going to break his choice down and get into the details of that, so let’s just dive right in.

First off, I want to talk a little about, once more, the pivotal contrasts between the way Levi’s choice is presented here in the manga, and how it was presented in the visual novel, and why, like everything the manga’s done so far, it’s an immeasurable improvement in the manga.

Basically, the way Levi’s choice in the visual novel plays out doesn’t in any way relate to his later philosophy which serves as the driving force behind Levi’s character in the main SnK series, while the way his choice plays out in the manga relates to it completely.

In the visual novel, it isn’t even really a choice at all. There isn’t any consideration or struggle for Levi to choose one way or the other. Levi acts purely on impulse, and as I stated in my analysis for chapter 6, he reacts to the sudden storm by wanting to use it as cover so he can go and kill Erwin. That’s it. That’s his sole motivation for leaving his friends behind. He puts no thought into it, he doesn’t consider the ramifications, he doesn’t seemingly care about anything at all except killing Erwin, and to hell with the consequences. Again, this is so wildly out of character for Levi, that I could hardly believe it while I was reading it. To make matters worse, when Furlan tries arguing with him and tries to convince him to stay, the writing directly contradicts its earlier statement that Levi didn’t consider Furlan and Isabel to be his subordinates by having him snap back at Furlan that he’s (meaning Levi) the one who decides, almost rubbing his higher rank in their social interactions in Furlan’s face, before just riding off without another thought. It’s just awful characterization. And, as I said, completely severs any relation of Levi’s actions here to the philosophy he later develops and adheres to so strongly in the main series, indeed, the philosophy that he lives by and which governs his actions, the philosophy that serves as his character motif. It turns it into a decision made purely through emotion, a purely selfish and thoughtless act taken, and indeed, the only lesson Levi would be able to take from that sort of impulsive decision making would be that he should put more thought into his actions in the future, because if he does that, then this sort of thing won’t happen again.

But that’s not the lesson Levi learns, and that’s not the foundation of his philosophy.

Levi’s entire philosophy revolves around him understanding and accepting that he can never know the outcome of any given choice he makes until after the fact, no matter how much effort and thought he puts into trying to make the right one, and finding a kind of freedom in relinquishing that control. It is absolutely vital, then, in order for Levi’s choice in “No Regrets” to mean anything, and for it to in any way relate to the philosophy which governs him later, for it to have been a well thought out and deeply considered choice, and that’s exactly what it’s presented as in the manga.

Now I want to break his choice down here panel by panel to get into why.

First of all, the first key difference between the manga and visual novel, is here in the manga, Furlan is the one who first points out that the situation for them is bad, because in this weather, it’s likely Erwin will get eaten by a Titan, and if that happens, they won’t be able to get the papers they’ve been after this whole time. Levi isn’t shown even THINKING about any of that up to this point. He’s only shown concern for Furlan and Isabel, wanting to make sure they stay together, and sticking himself by their sides. Furlan goes on to say here that in order to take the papers, they’re going to have to head to the center of the formation. Furlan’s the one who brings the entire subject of Erwin and the documents up here, not Levi, and this is a huge and important difference.

They hear Flagon fire the sound grenade, and realize he and Sairam aren’t far off. Furlan says they might be able to join them somehow, but then he hesitates, and says “but… Levi.”

Furlan is looking to Levi here and asking him to make a decision for their group. Do they go off together and try to get to Erwin before he gets eaten by a Titan and they lose their final opportunity to get the documents they need, or do they go and join Flagon. Furlan puts the responsibility onto Levi’s shoulders here.

Now here’s where things get really complex, and we see how truly nuanced, considered, and thought out Levi’s choice really was, and ultimately, then, why it turning out to be the wrong choice is so deeply tragic.

Furlan and Isabel both are looking at Levi, waiting for him to choose, and we get to see Levi’s internal thoughts.

The first thing he thinks in this situation is to weigh the worth of the lives of his squad and his friends against his own, and this is so exactly like Levi, and once more shows infinitely better characterization of him than what was done in the visual novel. Levi thinks here “If the three of us go, the team we leave behind will be shorthanded.” This is literally Levi showing private concern for the lives of Flagon and Sairam, knowing that if he takes Isabel and Furlan with him, those two’s chances of survival out in this weather diminish drastically. He then thinks “If I go alone, there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to find them again.” He’s considering his own chances of survival here, if he strikes out on his own. He knows that if he does, his own chances of getting killed increase. So here we see Levi struggling with whether to prioritize the lives of his squad, or himself. Ultimately, he decides to prioritize the lives of his squad. And I’ll get more into that in a moment.

But Levi continues to struggle. He tells himself “Which is it? Pick one.”, as the storm worsens around him. He’s agonizing over it. And then he closes his eyes, and he thinks of Isabel, remembers her saluting Flagon from the night before, and the understanding for the SC’s cause that she expressed, and how he himself understood it, and her sympathy, even her empathy with how they felt, saying she didn’t want to get in their way, meaning she didn’t want to compromise their mission. Levi himself has been developing an attachment to these soldiers, and an admiration and understanding of their dedication, seeing how like his own desire to fight for and protect the lives of others it is. To leave Flagon and Sairam to their fate and unprotected, then, would be both a betrayal to Isabel’s feelings and wishes, and his own. Levi doesn’t want to be the cause of Flagon’s and Saiyam’s deaths by taking Isabel and Furlan with him and leaving them by themselves. Also, in remembering the way Isabel saluted Flagon and her enthusiasm for the SC’s dedication, Levi must also have realized, if he took Isabel with him to steal from and kill Erwin, it would destroy any future chance she might have of ever joining the SC again, if that was something she wanted. To take her with him would implicate her in his crimes and rob her of that possible future.

Levi then thinks of Furlan and Isabel in the Underground, looking at him, and Furlan explaining to him his plans, his hopes and dreams of using this new found opportunity to make it to the world above and make for themselves better lives. He’s remembering Furlan, and Furlan’s reliance on him to make that dream come true. Remember how Furlan told Levi “With you here, we’ll really be able to raise hell.”. His plan always hinged on having Levi’s strength and ability in order to succeed. Levi knows, then, if he chooses to not go after Erwin then and there, and get the documents from him, Furlan’s dreams will be dashed, and Levi will have failed to help make them come true. And Levi has gone along with Furlan’s plans up to this point, against his own, better judgment, specifically because he wanted to help realize Furlan’s dream, to make it a reality. To abandon it now, after all of that, must have seemed unacceptable to Levi.

And then Levi remembers Erwin, standing over him in the Underground, superior and smug, callous and uncaring for how he’s disrupted and threatened the lives of Levi and his friends. He remembers his anger at Erwin, his feeling of humiliation and rage.

And it’s this memory, finally, after all the others, after considering the lives of Flagon and Sairam, after considering Isabel’s wishes, and Furlan’s dream, that tips the scale for Levi in deciding that he has to go alone after Erwin. It’s the weight of all those factors, the fear of letting Flagon and Sairam die, the fear of letting Furlan and Isabel down, on top of Levi’s own pain and anger, that decides it for him. If he doesn’t go after Erwin alone, if he takes Furlan and Isabel with him, Flagon and Sairam will probably die, and both Furlan and Isabel will be implicated in the crime of theft and murder. If he stays with Isabel and Furlan to join up with Flagon and Sairam, then Furlan’s and Isabel’s dreams likely go out the window.

This is no snap decision on Levi’s part. It’s a deeply considered, thought out and in many ways selfless choice he makes. And, again, that’s really what makes it so horribly tragic. Levi was really TRYING to do the right thing here, was genuinely acting in a way he thought was for the best, for all parties involved. He gave just as much, really MORE consideration to Furlan and Isabel and Flagon and Sairam than he did to himself. It was the combined weight of the interests of all the other people involved that pushes Levi towards the choice he makes, and his desire for vengeance on Erwin is just the final straw which tips the scale in that direction, not the one and only deciding factor. It is, from all angles of consideration, the best choice to make.

So Levi tells them he’s going alone, and tells Furlan and Isabel to join up with Flagon. He says he’ll get the documents, that’s the FIRST thing he’s going to do. Not kill Erwin. It’s the documents Levi is prioritizing here. And since he’s going after Erwin to get the documents anyway, he’ll also, he says, be the one to kill him. In Levi’s view, he’s being presented with a chance here to succeed in all their goals. In Levi’s view, this must be a win/win situation if he can find Erwin and do what needs to be done.

Furlan starts to protest, before Isabel cuts him off and says she’s going with Levi too, and Levi asks her, if she comes with him, who does she think is more likely to die, just him, or Flagon and Sairam. He’s reminding her here of her desire to not get in the way of the SC soldiers, of her sympathy and empathy towards them, and is imploring her to realize that going with him will leave Flagon and Sairam vulnerable. He’s telling Isabel that he can take care of himself, more than those two can. He says, specifically, If the four of you stay together, it’ll raise their chances of survival.”. He knows it’s dangerous to strike out on his own in this kind of weather, but he knows it increases his squad’s chances of survival if he does. Levi makes the decision here to place the lives of Flagon and Sairam over his own, and to support Isabel’s own feelings in the process.

And then Furlan begins to protest again, telling Levi to keep his cool and think, trying to explain that if he just waits a little while, the fog might clear up. He’s clearly afraid that if Levi goes out there on his own, he’ll get killed.

Levi asks Furlan then if he’s saying the Titans will wait until then, reminding Furlan that each moment they fail to act and go after Erwin, is another moment in which Erwin could get eaten, and risks Furlan’s dream being destroyed.

Furlan continues to protest, trying to impress on Levi how dangerous it is, to act alone, and Levi shouts back that he heard Furlan already, before insisting that he can do this by himself. And then he screams at Furlan “Trust me!!”. He’s putting the same request on Furlan that Furlan before put on Levi, asking for his trust, asking for his belief. Furlan may be ready to give up on his dream for the sake of Levi’s safety, but Levi isn’t ready to give up on Furlan’s dream for the same.

They glare at each other, and then Furlan asks “Is that an order, Levi?”, and Levi’s reaction to that question speaks volumes.

He looks shocked at it, his expression one of clear surprise and confusion.

He then asks “An order…?” like he doesn’t understand why Furlan would even ask something like that, before saying “Why does it have to come to that? I’m just… The two of you…”

This is in such sharp contrast to the way they had Levi acting in the visual novel and is, once more, infinitely superior.

It shows so plainly that Levi doesn’t want to be considered Furlan’s and Isabel’s leader, he doesn’t want to be treated as their leader. He only wants to be their friend, and for them to see him as their friend, and as someone they can depend and rely upon to always care about them and their dreams, as someone who will always fight for them and their dreams. He says “The two of you…” before trailing off, like he doesn’t know how to express any of that. But that’s what Levi is trying to say, he just doesn’t know how, as usual. He’s bad at expressing himself. He’s trying to tell Furlan that he’s going after Erwin because he’s trying to still make their dreams come true, he’s trying to support them and protect them and ensure that this entire situation they’ve gotten themselves into isn’t in vain. Levi’s expression as he looks back at Furlan here is heartbreakingly earnest. He looks open and vulnerable, as if imploring Furlan to understand.

And Furlan looks back, and finally realizes what Levi is trying to tell him. And when he realizes it, he smiles, and laughs. Because he realizes Levi is doing this for him, and for Isabel, and for Flagon and Sairam, even. He realizes Levi truly means well here, and has made the choice he has after deep thought and consideration. That this isn’t an impulsive or hotheaded choice, that he IS thinking clearly. Levi is confused by his reaction, and Furlan keeps laughing along with Isabel, before telling Levi “Fine. I’ll trust you.”, giving Levi the same regard Levi before showed him before, in agreeing to follow Furlan’s plan. Furlan chooses to trust in Levi’s decision making, chooses to trust in Levi’s own plan now. And then he tells Levi not to die, and Isabel tells him to make sure he comes back. They’re scared for him, but they’re choosing to trust him.

We get a significant panel then, as Furlan and Isabel fall back from him, and Levi looks back at them, as if still uncertain in his choice, despite all the thought he put into it. He’s still filled with self-doubt, even as Furlan had just moments before expressed belief in him. Like he thinks there’s something he must be missing, even though he’s sure he thought out every possible scenario and reason for choosing as he did.

What’s important too, in understanding Levi’s choice, is that it never once occurs to him that Furlan and Isabel could die. He thinks Flagon and Sairam potentially will, if they all leave them behind, and he thinks he himself might, if he strikes out on his own. But he never thinks it a possibility that Furlan and Isabel could. He chooses then, in that moment, to also trust in the strength of his friends. He shows absolute belief in Furlan’s and Isabel’s strength, to the point that he believes Flagon and Sairam need them, more than he does. It isn’t even a thought Levi can entertain, that him choosing to leave will put Isabel and Furlan’s lives in danger. With all the consideration he does, all the thought he puts into making the right choice, it simply isn’t conceivable to him, that his friends could die. If he had thought that a possibility, if such a scenario had occurred to him, he never would have left. He genuinely believed, if all four of them stuck together, they would be alright, even if he himself wasn’t.

A few others points of note in this chapter.

When Isabel and Furlan meet up with Flagon and Sairam again, and Sairam asks if Levi is dead, Isabel reacts violently, screaming “Of course he isn’t!! Levi will come back. Bet on it!”. This emphasizes, in a truly heartbreaking way, Isabel’s own faith in Levi, and her need to believe he’ll be alright. She insists that Levi will come back, and this builds off of Isabel’s continued refrain throughout the story of how Levi is “the strongest”, both below and above. Levi is Isabel’s hero, and she clings to his perceived strength in this moment, needing to believe in it to comfort herself over his safety.

This runs parallel then to Levi coming upon the butchered squad from the first rank, and his horrified realization that there are at least four Titans that did this, and that they’re heading back the way Levi came from, meaning right for Isabel and Furlan and Flagon and Sairam. He immediately turns around and tries in a frantic dash to make it back in time, thinking desperately to himself that there’s too many Titans, and they’ll be overwhelmed. And then he comes upon the sight of Sairam being eaten, and he cries out for Furlan and Isabel.

Truly the most heartbreaking part about this entire scene is how Levi tries so desperately to make it to his friends in time, but how he just simply isn’t near enough too, and can only watch, then, as they die. For Levi, who’s entire identity revolves around wanting to help others, to protect others, his own helplessness in this situation must be truly horrific for him. And especially, his own helplessness in watching the two people that mean the most in the world to him get eaten alive.

Another truly heartbreaking moment here is how Isabel decides, in Levi’s absence, that she’s going to take on his role as protector, and save everyone. How Isabel’s admiration and hero worship of Levi is, indirectly, what gets her killed here. She wants to be just like him, and in trying to be like him, she ends up dying. All of this happens in front of Levi. He has to watch Isabel die while trying to do the thing he’s made himself responsible for, which is protecting the lives of others. And the way she starts to call out for him, right before the Titan’s jaws close around her, is truly gut wrenching. Levi’s expression here is one of such utter horror and shock too, before it turns to sudden, murderous rage, and he tries once more to close the distance and make it in time, only to have to watch both Flagon, and then Furlan both get eaten too.

Levi thinks to himself, as Furlan’s being lifted to the Titan’s mouth “I’m going to end up letting everyone die.” Before screaming out Furlan’s name. Levi is already blaming himself, already feeling the abject weight of his failure. This is the moment when he realizes his choice was the wrong one.

Furlan, in one of the saddest moments of all, finally sees Levi and, as if to say ‘it’s okay. This isn’t your fault’, waves to him in acknowledgment.

Maybe most cruel of all is how Levi, even in the face of his overwhelming fear and horror and self-hatred, clings desperately to hope, still trying with everything he has to make it in time to save at least one of his friends. He thinks to himself “Come on, make it in time!!”, and only to make it more tragic still, he almost DOES make it in time, just barely a moment too late as he slices off the hand of the Titan that had been holding Furlan. Levi misses saving Furlan’s life by mere moments. It’s truly the definition of tragic, and beyond traumatizing.

9. Chapter 8: Choices

Alright, and now I’ve reached the final chapter of “No Regrets”, so let’s just dive right in!

There really is so much more to unpack from this story than I think people realize.

Firstly, just a few, truly devastating observations I want to talk about.

The first one being how, even after Furlan gets swallowed by the Titan, Levi still believes he can save him. The fact that he cuts the Titan open from the chest down to his sternum, and free’s Furlan’s arm, and the panels which show Levi reaching out for his hand and ripping him from the Titan’s stomach is just… so heartbreaking. The way too that he gently carry’s him back to the ground and lays him out, only to discover that his entire lower half is gone, and he’s dead, just the level of trauma you know this must be causing Levi is immense, and beyond tragic. This is one of only two, true friends in his life, and he’s so desperate to have been able to save him, that he clings on to the possibility to the bitter end, until he’s forced to face the bleak reality. Levi’s devastation is really brilliantly depicted in how he wobbles, as if his knees are weak, when he stands back up.

And then of course comes Levi’s rage, and how he takes it out on the Titans, expressing his grief and pain in the only way he knows how, through violence.

But maybe the most heartbreaking moment here comes once he’s through killing every Titan there, and he starts to stumble away, and his foot comes into contact with Isabel’s severed head. This is, once more, another area in which the manga improved hugely over the visual novel.

Levi’s reaction here is just… the most heartbreaking thing ever. The way he stares when he realizes he’s looking at Isabel’s head, and then falls to his knees, his overwhelming grief here is just so beautifully depicted in these panels, as he reaches out a hand to cover her eyes, and then slides them closed, in an attempt to give her some sort of dignity in death. The way he can’t even look at her, just doubled over in his grief, just killed me to see. It’s so unspeakably sad, and conveys to us readers the true depth of Levi’s despair, I think.

And then we move on from this horrific grief, to the climactic moment of the story, when Levi and Erwin again come together, and we see Levi’s overwhelming rage. Again, this entire scene was a massive improvement over the visual novel. Well, for starters, in the visual novel, they had Levi cut Erwin’s horse down to bring him to the ground, and again, that’s just so out of character. Luckily, they fixed that here too, with Levi simply leaping up and dragging Erwin off his horse.

These panels really are amazing too is showing Levi’s intense rage, as he warns Mike to back the hell off, and brings his blade to Erwin’s neck.

What’s really interesting here is what Levi says.

After the struggle of the choice he made, before Furlan and Isabel were killed, after giving so much consideration and choosing based largely on their own dreams and wishes, Levi tells Erwin here “I’m going to kill you, you bastard. That’s why I’m here.”. And Erwin responds, after studying Levi a moment, “So they… all died? I see.”. Erwin gleans here, both from Levi’s words and expression, that his friends have died, and what he says indicates that he knows the only reason Levi hasn’t tried to kill him before now is because Furlan’s and Isabel’s own well being and their own dreams were the only thing holding Levi back. Levi made no attempt on Erwin’s life before because he was placing Furlan’s and Isabel’s wishes above his own, but now that they’re gone, there’s nothing to keep Levi from acting out his revenge.

This is also where we get Erwin’s full reveal of just how in control of this entire situation he’s been this whole time, and how he manipulated every player and outcome to his desires.

This really isn’t something I see get discussed a whole lot when talking about Levi’s relationship with Erwin, and how it started out. But, unquestionably, Erwin used Levi and his friends against their consent, to achieve his own ends. He set the whole thing up, from first spreading rumors about having some sort of evidence against Lovof’s embezzlement, to then spreading the information that he was looking to recruit Levi and his friends from the Underground, thereby giving Lovof the very idea of going to them to obtain his own proof of the evidence’s existence, while simultaneously leading Erwin to the definitive proof he sought by following the messenger Lovof sent and intercepting him. At the same time, giving Erwin a means of throwing Lovof off by using Levi, Furlan and Isabel for cover. It really is incredibly impressive, but also heartbreaking, the way Erwin used Levi and his friends to his own ends, but of course, perfectly in character for Erwin too, willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals. It begs certain questions though about the equality between Erwin and Levi, at least at the start of their relationship. Erwin clearly had the control and power in this situation, and though clearly he never meant for Furlan and Isabel to die, still, his decision to rope Levi and them into his plans to catch Lovof and also to gain their strength and skill for the SC, did lead indirectly to their deaths. Surely, if Erwin had never meddled in their lives, and used them as tools, they would have all still been alive in the Underground.

But of course, this leads into a really interesting clash, then, between Levi and Erwin, and where we see Erwin win Levi over to his cause. This is, as is becoming a redundant theme of my analysis here, a giant improvement over the visual novel. There, it makes it seems as if Levi decides to follow Erwin only because Erwin has something Levi lacks, and until he can figure out what that something is, he won’t be able to “defeat him”, implying that Levi is still somehow obsessed with beating Erwin in some way. Like he isn’t joining Erwin to fight for his dream of a better world, but because he wants to figure out what Erwin has that he doesn’t, so he can become superior, or whatever. But here, in the manga, Levi’s reasons for deciding to follow Erwin are much more complex, and tied in with his own personal drive of wanting to help and save others, and into his relationship with Furlan and Isabel.

Levi tells him “It wasn’t worth throwing away their lives! They were nothing but pawns in your worthless game. Well, you lose.”, right before he means to take Erwin’s head off.

What’s interesting here is Erwin’s response. He doesn’t try to deny to Levi that he used Furlan and Isabel and Levi himself as pawns. He doesn’t argue, or try to defend himself on that front. What he takes issue with is Levi calling the reasons for it a “worthless game”.

Erwin’s entire speech to Levi here really builds off of the feelings Levi had already started to develop, about feeling like he had maybe found a place to belong, where he could maximize the good he could do. This wasn’t yet a fully formed idea in Levi’s head, up to this point, but the seeds of it had started to form.

Erwin asks Levi who’s responsible for killing his friends. He asks if it was him, if it was Levi, and then he asks if he really thought that if they had come together to attack Erwin, that they would have made it out alive.

This is what Levi is beating himself up over, of course. The belief that he made the wrong decision, in leaving Furlan and Isabel behind, thinking to himself if they hadn’t split up, they would still be alive. He blames himself for how he came to that decision, and starts to say as much to Erwin here, saying it was his conceit and his pride that was to blame, no doubt thinking of how it was his memory of Erwin and the humiliation he caused Levi that was the final tipping point which decided him in favor of going after Erwin himself, and also how he simply convinced himself that he would be able to shoulder all of the responsibility himself in such a dire situation, remembering how he told Furlan “I can do it by myself!” so insistently, asking him to trust him, to trust essentially in Levi’s strength. To Levi, in this moment, his own strength must have seemed worthless suddenly, his belief in it leading to nothing but abject failure. But then Erwin cuts him off and says, emphatically that, no, it was the Titans who killed them, before beginning to talk about how little they know about the Titans, and how if they continue to remain ignorant like that, they’ll never win against them. He tells Levi to look around himself, and points out how, for as far as the eye can see, there are no walls, and then suggests that, in all that open space, there might be something they can find to free humanity from its despair and imprisonment. And then he reminds Levi that there are people who want to stop this from this from happening, only concerned with their own profits and losses, content to stay where danger can’t reach them. He shows sympathy, saying it’s understandable why they feel that way, because they’ve been blinded by the walls for a hundred years, and can’t see past their own survival.

And then he asks Levi if his eyes have remained clouded too. He’s asking Levi here if he only knows how to live for himself, and if he’ll kill him and return to the Underground to continue to do so, after losing the two people he cared most about in this world.

But of course, Levi’s already learned how to live for people other than himself. That was his whole reason for coming to the Surface in the first place. In support and dedication to the hopes and dreams of his friends. Levi’s eyes HAVEN’T been clouded, he’s already discovered and embraced what it means to give your life for others, already able to see past his own benefit.

Erwin reminds Levi of that here, and tells him they won’t give up on going outside the walls, before asking Levi to fight with the Survey Corps, telling him “Humanity needs your skill!!”. He reminds Levi, even after the loss of the two people whom he had been living for up to that point, that he can continue to live for others still, that he can still fight for the hopes and dreams of others, and that he doesn’t have to return to the life of isolation and loneliness and futility that he once lived, that he doesn’t have to return to simply surviving, or fighting only to survive. He’s reminding Levi that his life can mean more than that, just like he realized when he became friends with Isabel and Furlan. That his life can have purpose, and that, if he lends his strength to the SC, he can do more even than help a few people. He can, in fact, help all of humanity.

The following panels show Levi coming to this realization. He remembers Furlan and Isabel at his sides as they rode out into the open for the first time, into the first, true sense of freedom they had ever known, and their shared awe and wonder at the sight. And Levi is realizing here, just as he had fought for his friends dreams of freedom, and of a better, more hopeful life, he can continue to fight for the same, only for everybody, for all people. He can make the most of his abilities, and help the most people, by staying in the SC and fighting at Erwin’s side, fighting for Erwin’s vision of something beyond the walls, of a kind of salvation for humanity.

What Erwin gives Levi here, really, the thing Erwin gives Levi that he before lacked, is a sense of hope. A belief in his own ability to make a meaningful, positive impact on the lives of others. It’s like Erwin’s own belief in that hope for humanity’s salvation is so strong, that Levi finds himself able to believe in it too, and he decides then and there that, for the sake of that hope, for the sake of the vision of something better, Levi will stay by Erwin’s side. Because it’s what Levi’s always wanted to do, to fight for the hopes and dreams of others, to fight to make the lives of other people better, and Erwin has shown him the way to do so. He shows Levi that Furlan and Isabel didn’t die for a “worthless game”, but for the sake of all human kind, and that’s why Levi is able to let go of his anger towards Erwin and follow him. And that really feeds into Levi’s need, later on, for every soldier’s death to carry meaning. If he can believe Furlan and Isabel died for a truly important reason, he can accept it and cope with his grief. Like Isabel expressed herself before, these people genuinely believe their cause is worth dying for, and Erwin reminds Levi of this again.

So he forgets his anger and pain, and chooses instead to follow Erwin, and dedicate himself to the cause of humanity’s salvation.

The final panels of the manga are incredibly moving, with Levi slowing down behind Erwin and Mike, and glancing back one last time to where he lost his two, best friends, before looking away and riding on, as the sun shines through the clouds. Like one, final acknowledgment of their lives together, and the sacrifice they made, before committing himself fully to his new life ahead.

10. Prologue

Just a small note on the prologue. It opens up with Furlan and Isabel and Levi sitting beneath the only, real source of sunlight in the Underground, watching the birds in the sky. Isabel wonders where they’re going, and Furlan answers “Far away... They can fly even beyond the walls. To Places we couldn’t go eve with those machines.” Isabel smiles, and says “Got that right! Just you wait! I’ll go with you someday.”, while Levi looks up into the sky, silent. This is only further proof of how Furlan and Isabel both expressed their dream of someday making it on the surface, of achieving freedom from the prison of the Underground, and how Levi would sit and listen to them say things like this. We see shots of just how grim and harsh the Underground really is here, with people lying passed out and sick in the streets, the pervasive, overwhelming darkness, and just overall depressing atmosphere. It’s the kind of place that, clearly, robs people of their will to live. Of any kind of hope. It’s important to note that Levi himself never expresses any such dream, or desire. He never voices that he wants to make it to the surface. This is Furlan’s and Isabel’s dream, their hope, and Levi hears it from them seemingly often. Probably, because of how hard his life has been, Levi’s never even considered it a real possibility, and so never even entertained the idea of it becoming real. But for Furlan and Isabel, he was willing to try. He went to the surface for them, to try and make their dream a reality.

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #No Regrets #acwnr #a choice with no regrets #Levi Ackerman #Furlan Church #Isabel Magnolia #Erwin Smith #snk analysis #meta #thoughts

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

(Needles (aphrodisiacs!), blood, and medical paraphernalia ahead. No outright NSFW, but implied at the end)

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

Latex gloves snapped as they stretched over the man’s hands.

You were nervous.

“Sign here. It’s a consent form for the vaccines you’re receiving today.” His voice was level, almost monotone as he placed a clipboard and pen onto the counter next to your chair.

Three vaccines, routine injections.

You’d been putting them off, wary of needles, wary of people having to touch your body. You knew it would be an all-around unpleasant experience, but you had to get it done sometime, no matter how much you tried to avoid it.

Originally it had just been two shots, but the Doctor, Chisaki Kai, had called back informing you that a third injection would be necessary.

A quick scribble with the pen before the masked man was whisking the clipboard away, confirming you’d signed the papers with a quick glance. He had pretty eyes, you noted - golden iris’s visible above the surgical face mask covering his mouth and nose.

Those pretty eyes snapped to yours, the man looking significantly bored. “All’s in order.” You watched him begin assembling the injections on the counter, needles by bottles, alcohol wipes and bandaids nearby.

“The first will go in your left arm, the second in your right, and the third in your left again. It will hurt.” His bedside manner left something to be desired.

He worked quickly and efficiently, plunging the first needle into a bottle, drawing back the plunger to fill it full of liquid before removing it from the bottle. “Please roll up your sleeves.”

Then he was stepping close, needle in one gloved hand, sterile alcohol swab in the other. You were watching him like a hawk, trying your best not to flinch when the cold wipe came into contact with your exposed upper arm.

A quick glance at your flinch, the slight bit of air hissing through your teeth at nothing but the coldness of the wipe had the man cocking his head, but he said nothing.

“Uhm, can you please-uhm, tell me when you’re about to do it?” You gulp, wide eyes trained on the far wall. Just don’t look at the needle, you’ll be fine.

“You prefer to know when to expect the pain?” It was less a question, more a statement, but you nodded nonetheless. “I’ll count to three.”

“One.” A gloved hand lightly touched your arm.

“Two.” Pointer finger and thumb smoothed over your skin, keeping it taut.

“Three.” There was a pinch, immediately followed by deep burning, stinging pain that had you gritting your teeth and wincing.

-----

The scent of bitter, sterile alcohol filled your nose, harshly jerking you to consciousness. Everything smelled like chemicals, latex and bleach and ammonia - not the most pleasant thing to wake up to.

Opening your eyes was easy, lifting your head not so much. You were slumped in your seat, head resting against the counter at your side, feet planted on the ground.

The doctor was crouched in front of you, a small wipe pinched between his fingers, held up to your nose. Golden eyes studied you closely, and upon seeing your eyes open, lashes fluttering, the doctor withdrew the wipe, subsequently taking away the chemical smell.

“You fainted.”

A blink as you gained your bearings, feeling disoriented and weak. You were still in the exam room, a tiny cramped space with barely enough room for a chair beside the exam table.

You swallowed, throat feeling dry, head fuzzy. God, did you hate needles.

“Have you had this reaction to injections before? It’s not uncommon in patients.”

“I.....no? I don’t-uhm-don’t think so...” It felt funny talking, as if you weren’t inside your body.

The doctor stood abruptly, quickly discarding the ammonia wipe into the trash, stripping his gloves off as well before donning a new pair.

“Stay there while you recover. Are you up for the other two shots today, or would you like to schedule an appointment for them at a different time?”

Why the hell didn’t he just give you the shots while you were unconscious?

“I wanna do it today please.” You sighed, reaching to feel the bandaid on your left arm. “I would hate to have to come back and do this again, know what I mean?”

Nothing else was said, just a brief nod from the man before he disappeared from the room. You shuffled your feet, closing your eyes as you leaned back in the chair.

“(Y/N)? Do you feel ready to stand?” He was back, standing in the doorway and looking at you.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You rocked up to your feet, rolling down your sleeve as the doctor stepped froward towards the counter. He gathered up the remaining syringes, bottles, and other supplies before stepping around you and back towards the door.

Again, you did your best to not shy away when he passed you, not wanting to make contact. Your skin was so sensitive, you hated touching people, or feeling their clothes brush against your skin. The man didn’t seem to notice, but that was alright. You were used to dodging threatening sensations in your life.

He guided you through the clinic, towards the back where a small office was situated, a comfortable-looking couch against one of the walls. His name wasn’t on the door - you remember now, Doctor Chisaki.

Or was he a nurse? You didn’t know.

But his name wasn’t on the door. Was it okay to be in this office? Don’t they usually make you wait in the exam room?

“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back shortly.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Today was your day off, the entire day devoted to getting your shots done, to overcoming this obstacle, handling the immense stress that came with it. It didn’t bother you to spend it sitting down and playing word searches on your phone.

But still....

“Don’t patients usually wait in the exam room? Or in the waiting room?” You asked the man as soon as he re-entered the room, stack of paperwork in one hand as he shut the door with the other.

He gave you a once-over, body tucked into the corner of the couch, before he spoke. “Usually, but I want to make sure you don’t pass out where I can’t see you. That’d make me a bad doctor. This isn’t common procedure, sure, but I didn’t expect your body to be so-” weak “-easily indisposed.”

The tone of his voice kept completely level, hardly any emotions showing on his face, but still you felt... chilled by this man. There was no reassurance from him, no compassion or empathy.

“I’ll administer your remaining shots in 45 minute increments, that should give you enough time to recover between each one. You’ll have to lay down for them though, that’s why you’re sitting on that couch.”

Polite, but it still felt like you were getting talked-down-to. He was patronizing you.

You gave him a curt nod to show you understood, before fumbling your phone out of your pocket to begin passing the time.

Doctor Chisaki sat down behind the empty desk, neatly placing his stack of papers on the wood before taking a sheet off the top and clicking his pen. From where he was sitting, you were in his direct line of sight, and you could feel him glancing at you occasionally as the scribble of his pen and the tapping of your fingers filled the silence.

45 minutes passed quickly, too quickly for your liking. You weren’t looking forward to the next shot.

Same instructions as before - roll up your sleeve, he’d count to three.

But the doctor paused after swabbing your arm clean. “You keep flinching. Am I hurting you?”

“No, I mean, not really.” You shrugged. “I don’t like it when people touch me I guess, feels funny.”

“Well, try to relax.”

Easy for him to say, hard for you to do.

This time, with you laying down, the shot went much smoother. The doctor counted the three, you hissed in pain at the burning slice of the needle, but retained consciousness. Which frankly, was a success.

“That really hurts.” You breathed as soon as the needle slipped free from your arm. Even thinking about the thin point being in your muscles made you feel queasy. At least you didn’t have to look at it.

“That’s a common side effect. Muscle soreness because the needle is essentially causing a small injury to the fibers, and there are other reasons, but they're more complicated. You want ice?”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. I’ll just deal with it.”

The man blinked. “You have an interesting reaction to pain.”

“Uhhh...” You scrunched up your eyebrows as you glanced up at him, sitting up as you did so. “Thanks?”

“You’re extremely sensitive to tactile stimulation, like to know when you’ll be experiencing pain, but you don’t particularly care about relieving it. Have you ever given blood?”

The question caught you off guard, especially after realizing the man had been analyzing you more closely than you had expected.

“Nah. Does that matter?”

“Not particularly, I’m just curious I guess.” Doctor Chisaki admitted, once again stripping off his gloves and disposing of them before sliding on another pair.

He went back to his paperwork, and you to your phone, but his frequent glances weighed you down. Did you have something on your face? Was your hair messy?

“Could you point me to the bathroom please?” You rose to your feet slowly, making sure you weren’t going to faint as you stood up.

“It’d be better if you stayed seated.” Was his curt reply.

With a frown, you sat back down. Why couldn’t you use the bathroom? Maybe it affected..... something? With the vaccines? You didn’t know enough about how these things worked to really question it. Doctors were professionals, and they had their reasons.

Still, you’d feel a bit more comfortable if the man wasn’t watching you so closely.

45 more minutes of squirming until your next shot.

-----

Lay down.

Roll up your sleeve.

Try to relax.

Deep breathe.

“You smell.”

“What?” Your head snapped to the side, confused. You smelled?

“It’s not bad. What scent is it?”

Blinking back surprise, you relayed the scent on your shampoo and conditioner. This doctor was a bit... unconventional. But his sudden question did take your mind off of the countdown, off of the pain. Smart.

“My nose is sensitive, most scents are overwhelming and while I like cleanliness I cannot stand the smell of bleach or most cleaning products. I chose the wrong profession for that, didn’t I?”

His version of a joke made you almost chuckle, a lazy grin stretching across your face instead. “You certainly did. You ever try Pine Sol though? That’s what I use for like, everything.”

The doctor shook his head, and you chattered on about the unoffensive-smelling cleaner, where you bought the bottle you have under your sink, how you use it. He listened intently as he plastered another bandaid over your arm.

“Alright, I can go now?” You asked, sitting up for the last time.

“No.”

“No?”

“Vasovagal syncope can still occur, I’d prefer you not faint and bash your head open on the ground. There’d be such a mess.”

Mouth snapping shut at the fancy medical term, you couldn’t help but sigh as you slumped back against the couch.

“Bored?”

“I’ve been here for almost four hours. You don’t have other patients to get to?” You didn’t think to check the accusatory tone in your voice.

The doctor put aside his pen, folding his hands on the desk as he stared at you with golden eyes. “They’ve been transferred to different doctors. My current patient has taken precedence. I don’t half-ass things like some people, I see my projects to completion.”

You were a bit taken aback at the vehemence in his voice, the way his eyes dropped to slits, narrowing fiercely at you.

“That’s what it means to be in this profession. I’m here to cure people. I make sure that sickness doesn’t spread between humans like fire in a barn full of hay. What I do is important and deserving of respect, I’m ensuring the survival of humanity, am I not?”

The intense tension in the air built, the doctor staring you down. “I’m close to becoming a renowned doctor. Just one, one breakthrough will finally get the world to see me. ”

He cocked his head, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled beneath the mask. “I thank your efforts in being a volunteer towards my latest project. It’s been a bit difficult to find someone who readily accepted an unknown injection.”

Unknown.. injection?

“What are you talking about?”

“The second injection isn’t a vaccine, more like a... pet project of mine. I can’t wait to see what it does.”

“You can’t-this is malpractice, I didn’t consent to this-” Your fists clenched as you stood.

“You signed the consent papers. They’ll hold up in court. Most people receive the vaccines you got today when they’re still teenagers, and under their parents care. Lucky for me, you’re afraid of needles it seems, so you’ve been a bit neglectful. Hard to get a parent to sign over their child as a test subject, easy to get a fearful individual to listen to their doctor.”

A twinkle in his eye made you want to punch his lights out. “What the hell dude, you call yourself a doctor? What did you inject me with?”

The man rose from behind the desk, moving until he stood in front of you. “You’ll see soon enough. I’m pleased that you’re so concerned with hygiene, that makes this easier for both of us.”

“What??”

“And you can forget about calling for help, not that you’ll want to. But everyone’s left for the day-” He checked his wrist, where a nice watch gleamed at you mockingly. “45 minutes ago. So feel free to disclose your symptoms as they pop up as loud as you’d like.”

The man sat down on the couch, easily sinking into the plush material looking up at you with a malicious gleam in his eyes. He had been playing you since you’d walked into the clinic. Was this some sort of prank?

“You’re messing with me.”

“I’ve told you, I see my projects to completion. This is the testing stage, and it might be a while before it’s over. Why would I waste time messing with someone else’s dumb little life?’

Your mouth felt dry, face warm. Why did your legs feel all pleasantly tingly? There was a slowly-building heat simmering low in your core, and if you weren’t standing directly in front of Chisaki, you’d rub your legs together. What did he do to you?

“Now, sit down, and tell your doctor what's bothering you.”

#kai #kai chisaki #chisaki #bnha #yandere #Yandere bnha #Yandere chisaki #Yandere kai #Yandere kai chisaki #Chisaki kai #overhaul #overhaul Chisaki kai #medical au #quirkless au #dark chisaki #tw.dubcon #tw.needles #tw.medical issues #tw.vaccines

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cdroloisms · 3 years

Text

as of yet unnamed ghost!dream au

here’s some of a ghost!dream au that i’ve been working on for the last few days!! it’s been Fun - definitely one of my favorite current aus, along w/ vegas team 2.0 and others. it’s a really ,, bittersweet c!sam + c!dream centric au that’s equal parts fluffy and messed up, and my goal is to (somehow) wrangle this mess into some sort of happy ending

anyway, i hope you all enjoy!! definitely look out for more of this in the future, and a future name change when i get around to thinking of one that Fits lmao

tw: blood, violence, implied torture, abuse, description of dead bodies, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, death, dehumanization

Sam woke up to fifty pounds of fur smacking him in the face.

He startled, stumbled to awareness as he struggled to breathe from the newfound weight on his chest. It took a few moments for his vision to clear up enough to see what was right in front of him, but his lips quirked up in a small smile as Fran sat, self-satisfied, with her paws pressed against his collarbones, looking for all the world like she was priding herself in her win.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." He ran a hand through the fur on her head, got a bark in return. The smile dropped, however, when his brain - still foggy with sleep - began to drag itself into awareness, bringing with it a whole slew of unpleasant memories that largely made him want to crawl back under the covers for another week, please.

Fran barked again, headbutted him insistently, and he pushed away the thoughts with a bleary shake of his head. As much as he wanted to avoid his responsibilities, experience had taught him otherwise, and what was he without his duty, now?

He was halfway through the process of putting on his armor when he realized, hands falling from the straps they had been readjusting, lips pulled into a thin line.

Oh.

Right.

Fran barked again, probably noticing his hesitance, making a point of ramming her head into the backs of his legs again when he stood still for a little too long. Sam stared at his hands for a moment, then another, before going to undo the fastenings of his netherite chestplate and hang it back up on the stand.

He wouldn’t be needing those for a while, would he?

“Hey girl.” He kneeled down to scratch Fran by the ears, smiling softly when she closed her eyes in satisfaction. He usually didn’t have any time to spend with her, not with him needing to check on the prisoner in the morning to make sure he would be ready for Quackity’s visits at noon and his afternoons usually filled with his work at Las Nevadas and on his own bank and keeping the prisoner alive-

Sam breathed out a little too harshly, reaching for the Warden’s communicator he kept tucked in his chest pocket. The same words stared at him in the morning light, clear and damning.

Dream was slain by Quackity using [Warden’s Will].

It had been an accident, in the end. He hadn’t been listening well enough, Quackity’s shouts blending with Dream’s ragged screams making up the same painful two-note song that filled most of his days, when the cell - steadily growing in sound for the past hour, as Quackity (inevitably) became more desperate and the prisoner (inevitably) forwent any attempts at holding back his pain - suddenly went silent.

The quiet itself was enough to raise his hackles, have him reaching for a pearl as he clicked open his communicator; the quiet “Sam?” from Quackity only made them rise more.

By the time he reached the other side, his communicator was already buzzing with the notification he’d known would appear, in the end, and Dream was lying still with a sword shoved through his chest.

---

Sam hadn’t really reacted, when he first realized. He set upon the task of cleaning up the aftermath much the same way as he approached everything nowadays, quick, efficient, and methodical. He sent Quackity away to wash off the worst of the blood, not bothering to follow him across the lava; it’s not like there was any prisoner that could take advantage of the loosened security, anymore. With the winged man gone, he resigned himself to the job of dealing with the remains of the prisoner.

In the heat of the lava, the body hadn’t even cooled yet, the blood flowing from it- him- whatever, still warm to the touch. Sam eased off the cracked remains of the mask, heart momentarily seizing at the sight of the face underneath it; gaunt, pale, and stretched in memories of pain that it could no longer feel, it- he looked anything but peaceful. His eyes were still blown open in fright, bright green eyes long-dulled, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones thrown in sharp relief from the paleness of his skin. Even with the scars on every visible inch of skin, he looked- young, like a scared kid, expression tortured even in death, and Sam could feel echoes of horror beating against his skull like a heartbeat. With a slightly shaking hand, he closed Dream’s eyes - the man was dead. It was the least he could do.

He must’ve spent a solid few minutes carefully bandaging each cut and gash, still sluggishly weeping blood - not that it meant anything, with him dead, but it felt - necessary, to at least give him this much dignity after death. He was covered in blood, some of it fresh, most of it not, but after wiping away the worst of it from his skin (his hair and clothes had been a lost cause for a long time), he almost looked- human. It wasn’t a perfect image; he was far, far too still to be anything like the Dream that Sam remembered, and there were more bandages than exposed skin, at this point, skin paper-white against the black of the obsidian floor and the air still thick with the smell of blood, but if he squinted a little he could almost imagine that Dream was only sleeping. That nothing had happened.

Nothing had happened.

Or at least- nobody could know what did happen. Not with Dream’s death meaning that the information of the revival book was lost forever, not when his death would open up a whole can of worms that both he and Quackity would be better off not having to deal with for the rest of time, thank you very much. Keeping it all a secret wouldn’t be that hard, all things considered; he could turn away visitors with the excuse of preventing something like Tommy’s death from happening again, and it’s not like anyone was particularly preoccupied with thinking about the conditions of the prisoner. He and Quackity would have to think of a better excuse in the future, but now wasn’t the time. All he had to do was get Dream’s body out of Pandora and away from people’s prying eyes; everything else could come after.

Picking up Dream took less effort than he expected; even though the man was a dead weight, he hardly seemed to weigh anything in Sam’s arms. Making their way out of the prison was much harder, but with a few well-placed enderpearls and the abuse of quite a few guard mechanisms, they were out under the night sky. It was a clear night: the moon nearly full, the stars bright and twinkling; it was the kind of night that Dream loved, once.

He bit back the thought as soon as it came. Dream was dead and those days were gone. There wasn’t any point of thinking about them, now.

He ended up carrying the man to a patch of forest against the beaches behind the prison, burying him without much fanfare and pulling out a piece of cobble to serve as a shoddy headstone. It was a small and lonely grave in the middle of a woods that no one ever visited, the cobblestone dull and easy to miss. Only Sam would know where it was.

He told himself that he didn’t care as he left, tridenting across the bay towards the community portal so he could finally go home and rest. It didn’t matter; hardly anyone had bothered visiting the man when he was alive. What would change with him dead?

Distantly, thunder rumbled.

---

It was strange, to have nowhere to go, reminded him of the early days when it was just him and Fran exploring and hollowing out the mountain for his base one block of stone at a time. He figured that it was about time that he and Fran went on a proper walk, anyway, and so after a light breakfast they were off - Fran running in front in leaps and bounds, tail a blur as she greeted every tree and rock by the house with the eager overfamiliarity that only a dog could have, Sam staying back and whistling whenever she came a little too close to harassing a fox or chicken or whatever mobs were out in the early morning. Every once in a while, she would run back, shoving her face into his hands as if to check in and say hello, and he would give her a couple assuring pats before she rocketed away again.

He definitely should’ve been doing this more often; a small rock of guilt settled in his gut at the sight of Fran’s clear exhilaration at being outside of the same four walls. Her room was as nice as he could make it - food and water kept in abundance, an assortment of toys scattered all over the floor, her bed covered in a collection of blankets she had claimed for her own - but with everything going on, he really hadn’t had the time to bring her on long walks and play with her as he should have. She looked happier than she’d been in months.

He looked up; Fran was in the process of running back towards him, again, and he opened his arms in anticipation of a flying ball of fur smacking him in the chest once more, when she froze. Paws digging into the grass, her head cocked to the side as her ears swiveled, pointed up and alert at some sound that Sam couldn’t hear. Her muscles tensed, and he stepped closer, hand reaching forward-

“Fran, don’t-”

Fran darted off into the forest, a white streak disappearing in the underbrush, and Sam muffled a yell as he moved to chase her. Her sprint sent fallen leaves flying up into the air, a trail of dust and destruction following her as she dashed deeper into the trees.

“Fran, get back here, what are you doing, stop running!”

Completely ignoring him, Fran continued to run ahead, turning suddenly to the right and sending Sam scrambling in an attempt to follow. Ducking out of sight past a collection of thickets into what appears to be a sunlit grove in the middle of the forest, she gave a sudden, triumphant-sounding bark.

“Fran, you really can’t be running off like this, girl, I don’t even know where we are-”

He froze.

Fran, bright white in the sunlight, was wagging her tail as she panted, tongue lolling out of her mouth, muzzle seemingly split in a wide grin. Her dark eyes looked up at Sam, bright and intelligent, and she barked again when he looked at her as if to ask him if he was proud of her discovery.

Just behind Fran, translucent in the light, stood a figure. They were short - only coming up to Sam’s waist, if that, and wore an oversized light-green hoodie that reached halfway down their hands and khaki shorts. Their hair seemed windswept, blown around by some nonexistent breeze, defying gravity as it floated in a messy halo around their head; they turned towards him, freckled cheeks immediately breaking out in a blinding smile.

“Sam!”

He watched, numbly, as the kid stumbled forward, tripping on nothing as they crashed into him, arms immediately going to wrap around his legs tightly. They looked up, shoulders shaking with small giggles, mouth open to show a gap-toothed grin - one that was far, far too familiar.

“Dream?”

“Hiya Sam! Didja miss me?” Dream giggled again, still looking up at Sam, and he felt something dark and cold, almost like guilt, rising in his throat as he met his gaze.

Dream’s eyes were pitch black.

167 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

smoke and fire (13)

word count; 14,463

summary; in the aftermath of an unusual rescue, some big revelations come to pass.

notes; y’all are gonna hate me but love me.

warnings; descriptive gore, gun use, reference to death, violence, gang activity, reference to drug use, reference to arson, reference to house fires, main character injury.

It was a known fact that it took three whole seconds in the morning before you could process where you were, and remember anything other than your own name.

That first second was spent in a quickly disseminated state of serenity. Your head wasn’t yet hurting, and you eased back into consciousness with a slow start, the darkness surrounding you oddly reminiscent, but the chilling cold and the damp was less so.

The second was when panic rushed through your system. Your throat felt blocked as you came back to consciousness, the pain in your head came crashing back over you like a crushing tidal wave, the blood rushing on your head as coughs racked your body, trying to take a deeper breath, and panic filled you.

The third second made you roll onto your side, spluttering a little as pain throbbed behind your eyes and your head was spinning, making you feel like you were falling for just a second, before your nails were scraping at the material underneath you as you tried to sit up, everything along your body screaming out in agony and almost giving out with your weakness. It wasn’t soft cotton like your sheets, it was gritty like stone, tearing at your nails.

And then, you remembered.

You remembered exactly where you were, and what had happened, and why you were here. Well, that part was still a little fuzzy, you’d never really been given a reason. The pain in your body made sense, the dull throbbing in one eardrum more than the other and the shock of residual adrenaline left in your sore body that was beginning to make a resurgence in your fear, and you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

The familiar burn of tears in your throat as a lump formed and the stinging of salt in your eyes as they threatened to fall, and then you found the strength to sit up, to blink and clear dust-filled eyes a little more, before wiping a hand over your face to get rid of it all. There wasn’t much light where you were, but there was a clear spot of musty-yellow lighting in the centre of the room, your body curled in the corner, dumped in uncomfortable positions that made your legs ache, and there was a figure you recognised leaning over the table.

Covered in blood, frantic, brown eyes fixed on you that glittered under the low light, you swallowed thickly.

“Nice of you to join us, sleeping beauty. Think ya’ can come give me a hand over here?” Your brows furrowed, still trying to piece the puzzle together, but then there was a clicking that made you jump unnecessarily violently in fear, the memory of the last time you’d heard it flashing behind your eyes like a scene from a movie. Newt was panicked, but clearly trying to stay calm, his eyes widening just a fraction in a messaged for only you to hear, and despite the pain you felt, you forced yourself to your feet.

Your bag was weighing you down, medical supplies rattling, and you stumbled on feet that you could barely feel until your hands were braced on the edge of the table, and you could see what was going on a little better.

A gunshot victim, at least four bullet wounds, two packed with gauze that was rapidly soaking through as Newt had pressure on two others; swapping between them frantically if the pile of blood-sodden gauze on the floor was anything to go by. You assumed from the recognisable tattoo on the other half of this mans face too that he was a part of whatever gang this was, and clearly, an important member if they were willing to commit these kinds of crimes to save his life.

“You got more gauze, ‘cus I’m running out, and I could use your help getting him fixed up before we both end up looking like him.”

His words were low and whispered, and you gaped as you stared at the man. “This guy needs a hospital, and a team of professional medical surgeons. Like, Derek! Or, Dr Lahey! We aren’t trained for this!”

“Yeah, well, we’re all he's got.” Newt huffed, a spit of blood leaving the unnamed man’s body between Newt’s gloved fingers as he tried to shift his weight, a whispered curse from his lips as he tried to stop the flow again.

You nodded, swallowing thickly and squeezing your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to quell the pain bouncing around the inside of your skull. You assessment the scene, noting the Newt really hadn't been able to do much, and thankfully, if the change in the daylight outside was anything to go by then you had only been out for an hour or so, maybe a little longer, light still coming in between the cracks in the boarded-up windows.

The man in the corner was slumped in his chair, gun sitting beside him on the table, and your heart was racing so fast that the headache you sported was only getting worse. Your voice felt raw and hoarse as you tried to speak on it, squeaking and cracking the first time you tried to speak in anything above a whisper.

“We’re gonna’ need some water over here, boiled if you can to stop an infection, but even just bottled water would do at this point.” The man sitting on the chair stopped his rocking, the groaning of the seat against the concrete pausing, and you jumped as the front two legs slammed back down onto the floor. He stared at you for a moment, analysing you, before giving in, wandering over to the door and undoing a heavy deadbolt to open it up, never turning his back to the two of you and keeping his gaze locked with yours before throwing a demand for bottled water over his shoulder.

There was scuffling, various sounds of movement on the other side and you assumed there would be multiple people, before the door was closing once again, and the grating sound of metal was making itself knowing again in such a piercing scream along the lock that you shivered, wincing at the chill it gave you, stomach twisting.

“All right, this is a fucking mess.”

“You don’t say, love.” Newt grunted, a soft laugh falling from him as you opened up your bag, hands shaking as you tore it roughly, the zip ricocheting along its tracks to expose the contents to you. A fresh pair of gloves, and two of the strongest painkillers you could find that you forced yourself to choke down dry, and then you were attempting to focus.

Your scissors came first, chopping around Newt’s hands as best you could to remove the sodden clothing that covered his body to expose blood-smeared and frayed skin, torn from bullet wounds and bruised from the bleeding under the skin. Pushing the fabric aside, Newt pressed down a piece of gauze that was turning redder from pink by the moment, no white left on it, and the colour of his skin was beginning to turn sickly pale.

Grabbing for your flashlight, you noticed it was gone, left nowhere on your bag and missing from your person, patting down every pocket, before your partner simply huffed. “I wanted to do a trauma exam, except my torch is on my keys, too, and they took those a while ago because they have things that could be used as a weapon on them.”

“What, like my star-shaped plushie keyring?”

“Apparently.” You rolled your eyes, reaching a hand up to the lamp overhead, and tapping your fingers against the metal, hissing at the heat building up along the cover of the lamp, but deciding it would have to do. It wasn’t ideal, and it wouldn't give results all that accurate, but if there wasn’t any functioning or reaction at all, then there was no point in doing this at all, because the bleeding in his torso wouldn’t be the bleeding that would kill him.

Grabbing onto the stem instead, you covered his eyes with one hand, adjusting the lamp to sit a little differently, holding it over his head. Moving your hand back quickly, you lifted his eyelid, his pupil sluggish in his movements, but there was definitely a reaction, and you let out a little breath of relief. One more thing you could deal with. Checking the other eye, just to be certain, you got much the same reaction, not a speed you were overall happy with, but certainly better than nothing. This guy really had seen the worst of it, there was swelling along his jaw, cut and battered, a blackish bruise forming above his cheekbone and burst blood vessels in the same eye, and that was just his face.

He was coated in blood, and you couldn't tell whether it was his or someone else’s, some dried and other patches still oozing, body marred with bruises and cuts, both old and fresh, most of which were unrelated to the gunshot wounds he had. A fist came banging on the door, just in time, water bottles being handed through when it was cracked open a fraction, and there was only six of them by your count, eyes flittering over the sealed packets of water that hadn't even been opened, and you’d have to stretch it to make it last.

“How’s your leg?”

“Better than this guy, he has a bullet in his thigh.” The joke was to brush off his own pain, but for the past couple of minutes, he’d been shuffling his weight from one foot to another, and you glanced around, noting the box that was sitting only a few feet away. The unidentified man set to guard the two of you was coming over, the door sealed up tight once again and the packet of water in his hands.

“Can you put them down on the box? We could use the extra surface?”

He paused, glancing at it, considering the request, before agreeing. Silently, albeit, he accepted your request, dropping the bottles down onto it and kicking the crate across the floor to you, wooden container scraping over the stonework and bumping against your leg roughly, and you tried not to glare at him as your leg buckled.

A coppery taste filled your mouth as you licked over your bottom lip, wincing at the slight pain of the cut, swollen and sore, but not as much as the pain along your forehead, a cut you assumed you gained on the drive here. “So, first up, we need to try and stitch up those holes.”

“If I let go of these cuts, he’ll lose a lot of blood.”

“I know. We can work fast, but I need you to do the stitching, because I’m not sure I’m up to it right now.” You held your hands up, the uncontrollable trembling taking you over was far too violent to be able to do sutures, but you could definitely hold down pressure. Newt nodded, your hands closing over his, the squeeze of cold blood between your fingers from the gauze making you gag slightly, choking down that feeling of nausea.

His hands slipped out from underneath your own, and you pressed down the second they were gone, the man underneath you groaning under his breath as he constantly walked the border between conscious and unconscious. As you held down, Newt reached across his body, snatching up the first of the water bottles. Unscrewing the lid and placing it down, he left the cap beside it, before he was shuffling through his bag.

Pulling out the kit with needles and thread in, your emergency stitches kit that you’d ever actually to use in the field, and you were having flashbacks and pinpricks of pain along the tips of your fingers as you remembered practising the stitches in the academy, constantly poking your fingers with the metal thread.

The strongest antiseptic followed, dark brown liquid in a half-empty container sloshing against the sides, and it dripped across the edges, spilling a little in his haste, before he was diluting it in the first bottle. Lid back on, shaking it to mix, the once drinkable water turned a murky brown colour, and your eyes were stinging a little front he still open bottle letting strong fumes out into the air.

“I’m thinking chest, stomach, stomach, thigh.”

“Should probably elevate his legs if you wanna’ go thigh last, it’s pretty close to his femoral.” Newt nodded, glancing around, before realising there wasn’t much for the two of you to work with.

“Alright, chest, thigh, stomach?”

“I guess.” You mumbled, none of the odds being in either of your favours, and you watched as your partner pressed his fingers down against the pulse in the man’s neck, frowning at what he found and holding the position down for longer than what was good, the results silently given to you simply by the actions. “Do you need me to push the cut shut so you can stitch?”

“I do, but if you let go of those other ones, he’ll bleed out.”

You gnawed a little on your lower lip, fear and panic building once again, because every slip this man made closer to death, he was dragging both you and Newt with him. The words hadn't been specifically spoken, nothing was clear, but you could read between the lines, and if this man didn’t survive the day, then neither would you and Newt.

You didn’t know what had happened to him, you didn’t want to. Whatever kind of illegal activities, gang territory fight or simply men wreaking havoc upon one another had caused this, you wanted no more part of it than keeping him alive long enough to hope that you and your friend might get out of this situation. The hand under your heart thudded a little more violently as he surfaced back into total consciousness once again, a gasping breath followed by sputtering, fresh red bubbling in his spit as he tried to clear the blood that was pooling in his throat, before an agonising sound was leaving him.

“What the hell are you doing to him?”

You jumped at the loud voice, yelling from across the room and the gun clicked again, the sound a threat that made your entire body stiffen painfully, nails digging into the mains chest as your hands tried to ball themselves into fists.

“We’re trying to save his bloody life!” Newt yelled back, and you gasped, eyes widening a little, because if the two of you had already learned anything from talking back to these people it was the risk of a ruptured eardrum and a killer headache. Clearly, this wasn’t the same man who’d taken you hostage, the rasp in his voice a little different and this man simply grunted at the pair of you disdainfully, rolling his eyes and shuffling in his seat beside the door.

“Alright, what if we use the bags for weight? It’s not ideal, but if we work quickly, I can hold one shut while the bags put some pressure on the other two, and I can hold it shut.”

The blond before you flicked his eyes over everything, fiddling with the tools as he toyed with the tweezers he had retrieved, wiping them down as best he could with some tissue dipped in the antiseptic water. “This guy is so gonna’ fucking die.” He whispered, and you couldn't help the chuckle that left you, swaying on your feet a little as you did, the rush of a chemical other than adrenaline being overwhelming.

“Well, we’re all he’s got.” You repeated his words back to him, a cheeky flash of white teeth in a smile that was gone as fast as it came, before you were shaking your head and refocusing on the task at hand, chasing away anything else you might be feeling in the moment. Daring to free one hand from his thigh, you watched the rapid spurts of blood that came free, trickling over his trousers to the table below, before you were putting your bag down on top. You couldn't see much, whether or not it was even working, but it was the best chance the two of you had.

Newt copied your action, placing his bag down over the wounds on his stomach, much like you had done, giving the two of you the chance to focus on the wound on his chest.

Taking the disinfectant from his hand and pressing down a cotton pad over the end, you soaked the small white ball in the liquid, packing it into the wound as Newt tried to clear the area to see what he was doing, but really, it was only smearing the blood around further. You could clean him up and do a better job of it later, but the first thing you needed to do was get the blood flow under control and wash off the antiseptic once it was clean.

You pinched the hole shut, temporarily stopping the floor, beads of red pooling at the corners, and Newt spilt water over the tops of your fingers, the cold feeling making you shiver, because despite the freezing temperatures in whatever kind of warehouse you are trapped inside of, the layer of clammy sweat coating your skin was hiding you from the chill. Once you could see what you were doing, Newt sighed, taking the tweezers in one hand, and nodding his head.

“Push up around the edges to stop the bullet slipping, I should be able to get it pretty quick. I was good at this part.”

“You scare me a little, why the fuck were you a bullet removal prodigy?” He shrugged, winking a little and holding the metal tongs over the wound, before nodding his head once. Slipping your fingers out of the way, you pressed down around the edges, blood spurting up again but you pressed down, stopping the bullets from shifting as Newt pushed into the man's chest through the hole already made. There was a scarcely audible sound, one deaf to the untrained ear but like sirens to a paramedic, the cling of the tips of the needle against the tip of the bullet, and newt shifted his fingers a little.

Letting the metal open back up from where he’d squeezed them closed like a bullet, the edges of the hole stretched around the expanding metal, and an intense look of concentration took over Newt’s face, not even looking at the wound but staring at the wall behind you, looking right through it as he operated purely on instinct and the touch as he felt his way through it. He let out a victorious little noise, pulling back, and as he did, he brought out the shell of a bullet, one that looked to be homemade, though that didn’t exactly surprise you, and it let out a much louder clanging as he dropped it back down onto a metal tray beside the victim’s head.

You moved instantly, the second that it was pulled back you were pushing your thumb and forefinger back up against the edges of the cut to contain the bleeding. Holding it tightly, Newt picked up the next set of his equipment, an atraumatic needle, one of ten and you hoped he was as good as he boasted being because you only had ten between you both, and you’d need two per wound with the length of these wires to seal them up tight enough.

You watched, carefully, as Newt threaded the first of the holes through the wound, pulling it out of the other side with the tweezers, and beginning to tie a series of surgical knots to keep them closed. He gave it a test tug, the skin pulling as he did, but it didn’t rip or tear, neither the wire nor the flesh, a solid base with which he could work. Beginning to sow him up further, Newt moved in steady motions, each gap only two millimetres apart at the maximum, pulling them tightly enough to stop the blood flow and allow tissue repair to began, but not enough that it would tear at the inevitable strain it would undergo when it was done up.

As soon as she was halfway through, attaching a new thread to continue with, and the wound was getting closer to being shut, allowing you to move your fingers out of his way, a slight breath escaping you as your breathing hitched each time the needle or thread came too close to you, because the last thing you needed right now was to get an infection from someone else’s blood and a dingy warehouse, or to lose time on this man’s life by having to start disinfecting everything all over again.

As he sealed it up, he pulled all of the threads a little tighter, working his way along to make sure the thread was evenly distributed, before fastening up the thread. He pulled back, the both of you waiting with bated breath to see whether blood would come free or whether they would bust open once your fingers moved, and while they pulled tautly, they never broke or tore.

You flooded with relief, Newt letting out a mix between a chuckle and a sigh, relief overlaying it all, and you took just a second of reprieve to know that you were just one step closer to this all being over. Opening your mouth, you weren’t sure what was coming, words of gratitude and accomplishment sitting on your tongue, aimed at any kind of higher power that might be watching over the two of you right now, but your partner beat you to it.;

“Let’s check the bag wounds.”

You nodded your head, swallowing back whatever you were going to say, beginning to feel a little dizzy as your head spun, and you squeezed your eyes shut for a second, containing the way you were feeling. Lifting away the bag that was sitting over his thigh, you were both surprised and impressed that the bag method had held reasonably well. There was more blood than there would be if you’d held it yourself, but you could work with what you had, and as your eyes flicked to where Newt was checking his stomach, you found similar results. Your gut was twisting again, bile rising in your throat at the sight of the blood in various places, an unusual phenomenon as blood had never bothered you before, and you turned away, gagging as vomit threatened to make itself known, and you tried not to clap a blood-soaked hand over your mouth, the thought only sickening you further.

“Woah, you alright?” You gagged, dry heaving a few more times as you tried to keep back the vomit that was on the verge of making itself known, tears lining your eyes and heat flooding over your cheeks as everything within you threatened to let go, but you managed to keep a lid on it. “The fuck was that?”

“I don’t know. I’m fine. Just aftershock, I think. Hunger, too, maybe, been a long time since I had anything real to eat, I think my body is just all fucked up right now.” His eyes narrowed on you, but he nodded, accepting the answer because the two of you needed to focus on things that were more important.

Once you had suppressed your nausea, you were picking the scissors back up, Newt resetting and disinfecting the equipment once again as you cut away at a patch of the ruined jeans the man was wearing. The denim was stiff while wet, and you struggled to cut it, your fingers aching as the metal of the handles pressed into the edges of your fingers, and you released a breath as you were holding as it was finished. Wiping down the area and packing the hole with disinfectant to make sure it was clean.

The procedure between the two of you started up again, only a second later you were pinching the wound shut, waiting for Newt to extract the bullet before moving to knot the thread and begin to fasten the stitches. It felt like time was coming to a stop while also speeding along, your fingers moving to the pulse point on his neck to monitor how it was going, counting the beats you could feel and trying to remember how light it felt so each period check would reveal whether it grew stronger or weaker.

You felt like the clock was ticking by too fast, every time you glanced up to the musty glass barrier hanging over the door seemed like it was spinning by at double speed, the hand constantly moving in starling jumps around the clock, the shadows in the room growing more pronounced and sharp as the sun moved across the sky, the light becoming duller as the one hanging over you both seemed to become brighter, and you watched Newt work.

As a team, you stitched him up, making sure that each wound was sealed up tightly and that they wouldn't burst, the pair of you physically exhausted. You could see the ache in Newt’s leg, he’d given up on even trying to hide it a while ago, as the two of you had moved onto the third bullet hole, all of his weight sitting on his good leg as he balanced barely anything on the bad one. Four bullets were sitting in a row, lined up neatly beside his head, and you let out a sigh, scrubbing over his skin carefully to wipe up the traces of blood.

Once he’d been stable enough, you checked his vision again, his reaction times having increased by a fraction of a second, but it was enough to mark an improvement, and his pulse was picking up with both strength and speed. You could see the bruises and cuts along his skin more clearly once you’d wiped him down of excess blood, littered with marks that would fade, only the bullet holes to turn pinkish-purple with scar tissue eventually, to join all of the other battle wounds along his flesh. Various tattoos to match the symbols on his face were across his body, and you made sure to treat every single cut, not wanting to leave anything up to chance, your body screaming out in protest as your adrenaline died down, and exhaustion was crawling in.

You were overwhelmed, tears building in your eyes, and Newt mentioned nothing as a few fell free, because you were sure that at some point - perhaps before you’d surfaced back to consciousness all that time ago - that he would have done the same. The situation was terrifying and you were struggling to process it all, every thought you had was like a swirling hurricane, melded with every other thought and emotion you were feeling, leaving you hopeless to process your thoughts but just lay rampant to them.

Anxiety was spiking through your system, choking it down by focusing on the methodical cleaning of the man, but eventually, there was nothing left to do. Fresh gauze and bandages were stark in comparison to his sickly-coloured skin, wrapped neatly and tightly and finally staying crisp and clean as you had everything under control, and your legs were threatening to buckle. You packed away slowly, stepping back from the table, and removing your gloves to join the scattered piles of medical waste that covered the floor and the edges of the workspace.

Newt didn’t even bother to put things back properly, to look after the equipment, he simply dropped it all inside, doing the zip up enough to hold it shut, before it was dangling from his fingers by the straps, and you followed suit.

Noting the movements, the man in the chair stood, his movements slightly wobbly from how long he’d been sat down, and you realised how long must have passed. As he approached, he kicked one of the empty bottles aside, all six used to the last drop for cleaning and disinfecting, and he pulled the gun from his waistband, making sure his finger was over the trigger in case either you or Newt made an attempt to pull something.

Not that you had any chance, there was a pile of everything that could possibly be used as a weapon over on the table beside where he had been guarding.

“He’ll live?”

You raised your hands, folding them behind your head in a symbol of your cooperation as he turned to you, and you tried not to sway too much in your weakness, simply nodding your head to him, and swallowing thickly. “He’ll need to keep those wounds clean, you can take the stitches out in about a month, or longer, wait until they start to form flesh for a scar but take them out before the skin gets too puffy.”

He nodded his head before lifting the gun up a little higher, motioning to the bag you held, and you trembled, his finger flexing a little on the trigger. “Whatever we’re going to need to keep it clean. Get it out. Put it on the table here, and then walk over to the wall until your back is pressed to it.”

You lifted the bag slowly, the dragging of the zip over the metal was all that field the room, tense silence taking over before you were reaching inside, daring to take your eyes off of the man and quell your fear to be able to reach inside. Pulling out both the diluted and undiluted bottles, you hoped he didn’t notice the lack of canister spray you’d left at the scene, your mind suddenly becoming aware of the life you’d left hanging in the balance, and wondering whether he’d survived.

By now, the shift at the firehouse would have been over, and you did not doubt that a missing persons case would have been filed for you and Newt, the abandoned ambulance after over an hour of no check-in would lead them to know something had happened, but you didn’t know how long it would take to find you, or if they even could.

Placing the bottles, spare bandages and wraps, as well as some painkillers down on the table, you stepped back, fastening your bag up.

“He’ll be in a fair amount of pain for a while, they should last two weeks, he can’t take any more than two a day, or else he’ll OD.”

The man nodded, motioning backwards toward the shadowed walls, and you stepped back slowly, Newt following when his command was given, and his hands were held up into the air too, both of you proceeding with caution.

While one danger had dissipated, another was making itself known, the purpose of being brought here was over, you and Newt had served your purpose, and if the man asking for supplies and advice was anything to go on, it meant that either they planned to let you go or planned to kill you, because you clearly wouldn't be sticking around to follow through on a treatment plan.

Once your back hit the wall, you stilled, Newt coming to stand beside you. The door was unlocked, several more men coming in, and the four of them all lifted their comrade carefully, carrying him out, and the door slammed shut behind them, leaving you both in cold silence. This area of the room seemed even colder than that of your impromptu operating theatre had, the shadows creating a drop in temperature, but you were simply too tired to care anymore.

Your head was still throbbing, your eyes felt heavy each time you tried to hold them open, the adrenaline and fear in the situation had been all that had helped to even keep you awake, and you rolled your head from side to side, trying to ease the pain in your neck.

Newt followed beside you, your legs pulled up before you as his stretched out, your bags abandoned together between your bodies, and your head came to rest on his shoulder, a heavy sigh let out.

“I think you have a concussion.”

You chuckled, but it was dry and humourless, simply a sound made to fill the silence and bush him off, but he wasn’t accepting that answer. His hand closed over yours, lacing your fingers together comfortingly and squeezing tightly, and you did your best to squeeze him back just as firmly. “I don’t have a concussion, I just have a headache.”

“Yeah.” He hummed, and you thought for a second, you may actually have won an argument with him. “But you also have nausea, you passed out, you’re a little confused, you’re weak on your feet and you can barely stand up straight.”

“It’s a-”

“You say aftershock and I’ll slap you.” He teased, a genuine laugh leaving you this time, and your shoulders rose and fell with a shrug. “When we get out of here, w-”

“If.”

“When we get out of here,” His voice was a little firmer, commanding you to have as much faith as he did, “Will you please just get it checked out? Just to make me feel better.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes behind closed lids, and groaning when he jostled his shoulder to wake you back up to the fullest alertness you could muster. “Fine! Fine, when we get out of here, I’ll get it checked out.”

Silence encased you both, darkness taking over, and the man who’d been tasked with guarding you both returned, taking his seat again and setting up to play on his phone from the second that he was comfortable, and you waited. He said nothing, not noticing the stare both you and Newt had fixed on him, your heart sinking as he remained quiet. The longer his lack of information dragged on, the more you felt doom beginning to sweep over.

The fact that he had nothing to say to you both screamed volumes into the void. There were no threats to keep your mouths shut, or looming promises of what would happen if you exposed the group’s location, or even any information on when you’d be leaving, and it seemed that they had no intention to let you go at all.

As you wiggled a little against the concrete, butt becoming numb from the stone underneath you, your legs stretched out to match your partners, and your eyes closed. You were fading away again, drifting towards sleep as it called out to you, the spinning of the room, the dizziness that was bordering on vertigo and the nausea with the headache, it all seemed to lessen as you slipped from consciousness.

Newt was talking to you, forcing you to stay just enough awake that you didn’t drift completely, but you weren’t processing what he was saying, the words just becoming background noise that disturbed you from being able to slumber, but you suspected that was the whole point. He wasn’t talking about anything important, he was telling you his mother’s recipes and the time he once went to buy new work shoes but almost walked out of the store while wearing an un-purchased pair because he was so tired from a double shift.

You missed the banging in the other rooms, you missed the actions taking place, barely roused by the sudden shaking your body felt, and you only snapped back to consciousness when you felt hands on your body. You kicked roughly, Newt barely avoiding the blow as all the pain you’d felt came flooding back over you in shockwaves, making you shudder violently at the surge of pain and nausea, before you were blinking at the dull lighting in the room.

“Stick with me, love. Tommy would kill me if we had to take you to the hospital after the final hurdle because I couldn’t keep you awake.”

“Oh, shut up.” Your words were slurred, and you shook your head, eyes squeezing closed at the throbbing taking place behind them. “You’d love that, I’m surprised you haven’t sacrificed me for a trip to the ER yet, anything to see Dr Derek in his lab coat, right?”

Pink flushed his cheeks, his eyes flickering over to the door, and he leaned in a little, hugging you tightly and shaking you enough to jolt energy through your body, a groan on your lips as he did. “Something is going on outside, and I never pass up a chance for an I-told-you-so!”

“A what?” You questioned, confusion still washing over you, but you never got a chance for an answer. The sound of a bullet pinging against metal was so sharp that it left another ringing in your ears as you cupped your hands over the sides of your head just a second too late. Newt did the same, falling away from shock with a grunt, and the man beside the door was in a little more agony at his close proximity to the sound.

You blinked blurry vision clear, watching smoke curl up from the lock, before the heavy metal door was falling open. It was a uniform you recognised, one of the police members you’d already seen much of over the last few cases, your brows raising a little as you watched them enter. You kept your hands over your ears, at least two more shots reverberating through the air and you felt them more than you heard them, body feeling the impact and breath feeling knocked from your lungs at the vibrations over the airwaves.

It was all like a dream, detached from reality as you were pulled to your feet by an officer, Newt’s hand dropping away from yours and you stumbled, feelings as though your movements weren’t your own. As you were guided through the halls, you tried to remember some of it, any of it, but everything you saw and heard seemed to be going in one ear and out the other.

Flashing blue lights outside with wailing sirens signalled the police cars, and several men around you were all being arrested, pinned down face first and snarling as they were cuffed, but you didn’t have enough energy to feel intimidated right now.

The fresh air was a shock, like plunging into water below the freezing point, and you took a sudden and gasping inhale, coming to a full stop, and everything out of focus suddenly went into overdrive. As you stepped out of the building the haze seemed to drop away, and you took another lungful of the air, panting breaths as you tried to fill your lungs with the source of oxygen, a panic attack building as you finally let everything cup back through, and gentle hands were guiding you to an ambulance.

You recognised the paramedics waiting inside, they were friendly as they greeted you by name and you recognised them from another case, perhaps the one on the bridge or at the chemical plant, you weren’t too sure, but it didn’t matter. An oxygen mask was placed over your face, fresh breaths of air racing through your lungs on a steady distribution that forced your breathing to even out, and you were grateful for it, not wanting to break down until you were curled up in your own bed tonight.

You winced at the flashlight that flickered over your eyes, stars in your eyes flashing for a second as you blinked to clear them, and while the paramedic around you shuffled within their own devices, you shifted yourself slightly on the stretcher, turning to stare out at the collections of cars instead, trying to see more than just the inside of the ambulance.

You searched for Newt, unable to find his blond hair for a good few minutes, before finally, you spotted him. Messy mop head in a far corner, beside a collection of cars that didn't belong to the public services, but instead to the members of the public services.

He was wrapped up tightly in his best friend's arms, Thomas patting his back comfortingly, as Minho all but bounced with excitement at his side. Brenda was leaning on her car, and Gally was standing beside them, hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. They were all in casual clothing, clearly having changed since the end of their shift had rocked around so long ago, the night sky closing in overhead as the day was being chased away, and you took another deep breath through the mask, smiling again.

Just the sight of your team was reassuring, to know they’d found you, they’d come to collect you, to make sure you were okay, and your heart thumped steadily and surely in confirmation that you needed their comfort right now. They were talking, Newt using a lot of hand gestures and while you couldn't tell much about their features, you knew they’d all be flickering from amusement to confusion to horror. Newt was quite the storyteller, at any time, no matter the trauma.

They turned, Newt pointing over to the ambulance you were within, and you raised a hand to wave to your friend as you watched all of their attentions move to you, before the paramedic before you was summoning your attention once again. You turned to her, the call of your name snapping you to the moment, and as much as you didn't want to look away from them all, you knew you’d be reunited with them soon enough.

“Well, you definitely have a concussion.” She confirmed, and you pouted, taking a final deep breath from the oxygen mask, and then taking it off.

“Newt is going to live for the ‘I-told-you-so’.” You scowled, and she seemed to come into more focus within your memory now. You remembered her, she had been there at the chemical plant, she’d been new at the time, a trainee, fresh out of the academy and on one of her first cases, and you’d tried to comfort her about the card system, making sure to navigate as many red cards away from her as you could to make a hard day just a little easier.

She grinned, handing you a plastic cup with some tablets inside, and a bottle of water, with the lid already unscrewed. “I’ll spare you the medical analysis, I’m sure you know what to do.” You only nodded, taking both from her gratefully and tipping the pills onto your tongue, before following them with a gulp of water, and taking them down eagerly. “Two painkillers to keep the headaches and muscle soreness at bay, as well as the nausea.”

“As much as I’d love to chat, I’m going to have to rain-check. Am I good to go? I’m desperate to just get home.”

She chuckled, nodding, and you stood up, still feeling a little unsteady and lightheaded, but it was beginning to get easier. Giving her a final thanks, and climbing down from the van, you closed the doors up for her, banging on the back when they were sealed up, and she gave a thumbs up from inside of the window, before sorting everything out and preparing for their journey back.

Turning around, there was a body directly behind you, and you cursed loudly while jumping, eyes trailing up from a familiar chest to his face and raising a brow as warm honey-coloured eyes stared at you. “Fuck, Tommy, hasn’t anyone ever told you not to sneak up on someone who’d been freshly rescued after an abduction? We tend to be jumpy.”

He grinned, shaking his head a little at your words, before your own smile was following. His hands came up, cupping your cheeks, and you leaned into the warmth that his palms brought over the cold skin of your face, sagging a little at his touch. “I have a lot of questions, but the main one is; are you okay? I just need to know you’re alright, and everything else can wait.”

“I’m okay, Tommy, I promise. A little battered and bruised, but hey, what’s new?” He rolled his eyes softly, a yawn following on your lips as you covered it, not missing the fond look he held as he continued to stare, eyes sweeping over your features. You waited for a second longer, before nudging one of your feet forward to bump your toes against his, your brows raising a little. “What’s wrong?”

“I was just really fucking worried about you.” He whispered, eyes dropping down a little, fixing on your lips, and licked over his own. His hands fell further down, sitting over your jaw and he dragged a thumb across your lips a little, your mouth pouting instinctually as he did, and his lips flicked up at the edges, never taking his gaze from where his finger was resting. “Chasing after you is like being on a damn rollercoaster.”

“How’s that?” You mumbled, breath clouding in the cold air slightly but the words were whispered, and his lashes tickled against your cheek as he shifted to bump his nose against yours, dragging them together slowly, his lips pressing to his own finger on the other side.

“Exciting, addictive, a total rush, but a little scary right at the big drop.”

You brought a hand up, sitting over his cheek, his head tipping into your hand, and his thumb slipped away, leaving nothing between you to stop you from being able to taste the overly sweetened coffee on his breath that he drank whenever he got worried. “Don’t kiss me yet.”

“Why not? It’s me and you, and now I know you’re okay, and I just really want to.” He teased you, pushing in enough to trace his lips very gently against your own, sparks of electricity shooting along you at the fleeting brush that you could still feel but wasn’t enough to be a kiss, but already left you wanting more. “If you don’t give me a reason soon, I’m gonna’ kiss you breathless, and they’ll need to put you back on that oxygen mask.”

You let out a soft breath, an airy laugh, before finding the strength to pull back by a fraction. “I have a concussion.”

He snapped back, eyes wide and brows furrowing so tightly you thought he'd get permanent perry lines, his jaw dropping in disbelief. “You said you were fine! You little liar!”

“I am fine!” You took his hands, pulling them away from your face and weaving your fingers with his on both sides, before rocking up on your tiptoes, and pressing your lips to his lower cheek, hearing him whine a little at the near-miss kiss. “I’m just a little woozy, and tired, and shaken up.”

“You promise that’s all?”

“I swear.” You offered, and he smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your own cheek in return as he respected your boundaries. “If you can set rules for our first kiss, then so can I. I want to be at my peak when we do, I don’t want anything to spoil it, I want to remember it perfectly, and not have such a killer headache, preferably.”

“I can live with that. We’ll wait. For now.” You nodded your head, foreheads resting together once again, and your eyes closed, simply soaking in how it felt to be surrounded by him, before a loud and exaggerated clearing of the throat was breaking you apart, and Brenda stood with her hands on her hips, a wicked smirk on her face as she stared at you both.

“Do we get any greetings, or do we not matter anymore? Because I was kinda’ worried about you too.”

You grinned, the woman who you were proud to call your best friend was holding her arms out for you, and you dropped Thomas’ hands, feeling him let you go and step back just as quickly now that everyone else had come over, and you wrapped her up in your arms as she squeezed you tightly, rocking you from side to side. Another pair of arms wrapped around you, and you grinned as the familiar smell of your partner’s aftershave overwhelmed your senses, the man clinging to you from the back as he wrapped his arms around the both of you.

Minho followed, a wicked grin on his face as he draped himself across Brenda’s back, squeezing all of you even tighter, and Thomas followed beside Newt, Gally and Fry coming next, until you couldn’t see out past the mass of bodies that had joined, feeling as though you were in the middle of a rugby scrummage and you could barely breathe, the laughter you were letting out doing nothing to help.

Eventually, Brenda was elbowing the men back, letting you slip free when they all backed away, and you missed all of their body heats, wrapping your arms a little tighter around yourself to keep warm All you had was the thin material of your uniform shirt, soaked in blood and clammy sweat, as well as various medicines and chemicals, with a vest underneath. It was doing little against the cold of the night closing in, twilight well past as stars started to make themselves known.

You shivered, rubbing your hands up and down your arms, wondering how Newt wasn’t feeling the cold, but he was excitedly retelling the tale already of the surgery the two of you had been forced to perform, a story that would last him for ages, no doubt, but it was his way of processing the trauma; to turn it into something he was proud to remember instead of something he was scared to think about, something that made him feel bold instead of terrified, and you wanted to support that, so you kept your mouth shut.

Stepping back over to Thomas, his gaze left his best friend, flicking down to you, his hands tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie, and raising a brow when you tugged his arm out of his pocket. He let you, his arm limp in your hold as he let you guide him, a soft pink flushing his cheeks as you tucked yourself under his arm, your cheek moving to rest on his shoulder, your hands tucking into his pocket and one set of fingers weaving with the fingers of his that were still inside. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before turning to look up at him as his arm squeezed around you a little more tightly.

There was a grin on his face, one with a hidden meaning as he bit at the inside of his cheek to contain it. “You know, Newt is gonna’ give us shit for cuddling.” His fingers were moving over your back in slow patterns, large palm rubbing slowly and transferring warmth back to you where you were chilled to the bone.

“I don’t care. I’m fucking cold, and you’re nice and warm.” You moved, face pressing into him a little further, the rest of your words becoming muffled, and he chuckled.

“Well, in that case,” He simply rested his chin on the top of your head, freeing up his other arm to hold you more securely, and letting out a slow breath that became a slight yelp as you pressed cold hands under the edge of his hoodie to sit on warm skin, grinning cheekily at the scowl that formed as you did. “Is any of the story Newt is telling actually true?”

“Surprisingly, most of it.”

“Well, which p-” He was cut off, the gruff clearing of a throat making him fall silent, and you pulled back, slightly embarrassed as heat made itself known along your cheeks when you found the police officer to be looking for you, the rest of the squad falling silent too and all turning to look at you, following the officer’s gaze, and you untangled yourself from Thomas.

“Sorry to interrupt you all. I just need your statement, ma’am, it’ll only take a moment.”

“You haven’t given your statement yet?” Newt quizzed, clicking his tongue in a tutting fashion, and you stuck your tongue out a little bit at him.

“You still haven’t been checked out by a paramedic yet?” You mocked, his amused face falling as he mock-glared at you, Minho pinching his arm as he tried to insist he was perfectly fine, his friend telling him otherwise.

“I’ll meet you over by that car in a moment, it’ll only take a few minutes to get your statement.” You nodded, the policeman giving you a polite smile, before tapping his pen against the pad in his hand and wandering away to the vehicle.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Lips brushed against your ear, making you jump a little, and you turned back to face the man behind you, your lieutenant standing back up to his full height as you did, and raising his brows.

“No, I want you to take Newt over to an ambulance and force him to get a check-up. He’s more than happy to diagnose me, but he won’t do a self-diagnosis.” Thomas laughed, a hearty and full sound, and you assumed there were memories flashing behind his eyes of a childhood full of similar circumstances. “I’ll come and meet you over by the cars afterwards. I’m going to need a lift home, y’know..”

His hand came up, tucking away stray hairs behind your ear, and nodding his head. “I was already planning on that, don’t worry.” You smiled, head ducking a little, and you tensed up a little at the clenching in your gut again, fearing it was another bout of nausea rising, but instead, your stomach rumbled, loudly. There was a snicker, hidden in your hairline, and your lips pursed, a shy feeling growing within you once again. “I’ll take you to get some food, too.”

“Shut up.” You mumbled, a finger hooking under your chin, pulling your face up, and there was a smirk there that only made you flush further. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like you’re adorable? Because, you are.” You scowled, blush only growing stronger, and he smoothed a thumb over your cheek as did, glancing away over your shoulder for a second. “Go give your statement, I’ll wrestle Newt into an ambulance.”

“Mhm, ‘kay.” You twisted your head, nuzzling a little into his palm for a second, before pulling it away from your face and squeezing his hand. “I want McNuggets. McDonald’s drive-thru.”

“Whatever you want, angel.”

You raised a brow, hand smoothing down over his chest to sit just above his stomach, and his eyes dropped, following your hand, a slightly more vulnerable look on his face when he turned back to you; wide eyes, swallowing thickly. “Whatever I want?”

“Anything.”

You tugged on the front of his clothing. “Can I wear your hoodie?”

He froze for a second, before a rush of a breath was leaving him like a punch, and he smiled, reaching behind his head with one hand and tugging it up, stripping the garment off and shucking it down his arm, the long-sleeved shirt underneath rising up a bit as he did, and you forced your eyes away from the happy trail revealed or the flex of his biceps, taking the warm garment from him. He held it out, soft green material looking warm and inviting, flooded with his body heat and the smell of him, your fingers twitching to take it.

Undoing the buttons on the front of your shirt, you cursed under your breath at the cold while taking it off, just a tank top left underneath, before taking the hoodie. It caught on your ponytail, Thomas helping you to adjust it over your head before taking the ruining uniform from you and draping it over his arm like a waiter’s towel, nodding his hair and lifting your hair free from the collar.

He leaned in, lips pressing to your forehead, a soft kiss given to you, before he was pushing you backwards. “Go. Go give your statement, the sooner it’s over, the sooner we get you those nuggets. I’ll meet you at the cars.” Tucking your hands into warm pockets, you wandered away, bumping your hip against Brenda’s as you did and she stumbled a little from where she’d been balancing mid-yawn, flipping you off as you laughed while walking away, and making your way over to the officer.

He stood up straighter from where he’d been leaning against his car as you approached, offering you his hand and introducing himself politely, and you freed up a hand to shake, giving him your name for the record, before your hands were once again clenched with the oversized hoodie’s pockets.

It was a simple case, there wasn’t much to tell. In all honestly, you didn’t know much. You wouldn't be much help, you’d been unconscious for the first half of the journey and in the midst of your concussion symptoms the second time, and you’d never seen the man pull up. You did tell him what you could, about the unusual call, you and Newt splitting up to check the area, before finding the man under the bridge. You tried your best to patch him up, before the two of you had been taken at gunpoint, and you’d lost consciousness when you’d been put in the car.

You asked about the fate of the man under the bridge, your heart sinking a little at the answer you got. He hadn't made it, he’d tried to use the equipment you’d left him but had passed away before the hour mark had passed, and you gripped onto yourself tightly to contain how you felt. He attempted to comfort you about it, to tell you that it was the gang activity you and Newt had speculated it to be, and that the man who’d been stabbed was a criminal, but it did little to ease your suffering.

You were a big believer in second chances; if you didn’t you wouldn't be in the place you were now, with the family you’d found.

Once he had you sign off on the confidentiality forms and disclosures, your name signed next to Newt’s chicken scratch signature, you were free to go, more than ready to just go home. Everything ached, you were still sore and covered with pain, your muscles all tensed up and torn from the strain of the day, your hunger making you feel like you were being eaten from the inside out by your own stomach and the headache that came with it wasn’t a highlight of your day, and your bed was calling out for you.

As promised, the teams were over by the cars, music playing on the radio from within Brenda’s as the door was open, letting her lean against it, and Newt was sucking happily on one of the lollipops reserved for little children that some of the ambulances carried, his tongue turning purple from the false-grape flavour of it.

He saw you coming, a little bounce in his step as you approached, before he was coming to stand before you, a smacking sound making itself known as he pulled the sweet treat away from his mouth. “You okay? Did he tell you about the guy?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, and he frowned, shrugging a little, but holding his arms open.

“He was a bad guy, you can’t save everyone, but you tried, okay? You gave it your best.” His words were true and you knew they were, you didn’t want to wallow in self-pity, you’d done everything you could without losing your one life, in which he would have died too, and you were trying not to risk your own life as much these days. “You’re okay, right?”

“Yeah.” You huffed, and he squeezed you a little tighter, clearly not accepting that answer, and waiting for me. “God, I hate this job sometimes, but I love it too. We save more lives than we lose, we change more lives for the good than bad, but every job has its bad sides.” It felt like you’d been having an awful lot of the bad side lately, but that only meant there was a lot of good to come to balance out the scales. “Have you texted Derek, yet, I bet he’s pretty worried.”

Newt let out a breathy sound at the mention of his crush, sagging in your arms a little before pulling back, and pale cheeks were flushed with warmth, the men avoiding your gaze and scratching at the back of his neck. “Not yet. Bren had my bag in the car, I got a lot of missed texts and a missed call, but I don’t really know what to say. It’s late, he finishes shift soon, I figure I’ll just wait until I get home.”

“Maybe you should go and see him.” You teased, poking at his shoulder, and your friend’s flush only deepened, shaking his head a little.

“I want to take a hot bath, and watch embarrassing rom-coms and eat an ungodly amount of food in a very unattractive way, and I don’t think me and Derek are quite at that stage. Yet.” He added the last word on, smirking as that cheeky attitude came flooding back, and you felt a presence coming to stand behind you. You knew who it was without having to turn, feeling it instinctively as a slight thrill raced through you, before a kiss was being pressed to the back of your head, an arm slipping around your waist, and a chin hooking over your shoulder.

Newt smirked, eyes moving over the pair of you slowly, and you ignored the look as he busied himself by moving to the backseat of Brenda’s car to retrieve your bag as well, and rifling through his own for his phone.

“Is this okay?”

“Why wouldn't it be?” You relaxed a little further into his hold, his fingers toying with the stitching underneath the pocket of the jumper idly as you sagged into him, feeling the movement of the muscles in his chest as he shrugged.

“Whole teams here, and you’re kinda’ the centre of attention right now. You and Newt. I didn’t really wanna’ push my boundaries, but I’m kinda’ afraid that if I let you go again, you’re going to get into some more stupid shit and get me all riled up again, and I’m still all full of adrenaline form these last few hours worrying about you.”

You moved to the side a little, twisting your head to be able to look up at him, eyes scanning over his face as you analysed his words, nothing but honesty and vulnerability shown to you. “Hey, I didn’t get myself into this one, it just happened. For once, I have no blame! I was cooperative with the criminal, kept my mouth shut, for the most part, you would have been proud of me.” His lips twitched with a soft form of amusement at your joke. “Besides, they all know how I feel about you, anyway. I’m not exactly subtle about it, and neither are you. I don’t think whatever this is, is exactly a state secret.”

He beamed at that, you weren’t sure why, but his face lit up with pure joy, and he nodded his head sucking down to peck the tip of your nose with a sweet kiss, one that made you feel ticklish, your face screwing up slightly. Turning back to your friends, you watched Newt stare at his phone for a second, considering accepting a call as his finger hovered over the accept button, the vibrating device with Derek’s name flashing along the top going off after a second, and you frowned.

“You sure you don’t want company tonight, Newt?”

“Yeah, I don’t really think either of you should be alone. Especially not with your concussion.” She pointed at you, but her attention quickly moved back to Newt, and the lanky blond shrugged. “How about a girl’s night? You can join in, Newt, because you can talk guys, so you’re acceptable.”

“Wow, thanks, Bren.” His tone was sarcastic but his face lit up a little, and he chuckled. Brenda turned back to you, raising her brows.

“Girl’s night?”

“How about a girls day tomorrow?” She pouted, and you grinned. “You’re right, I really shouldn’t be alone for forty-eight hours with severe concussion symptoms, but I think I can monitor them myself by tomorrow night.”

“Exactly, tomorrow night! Who’s gonna’ look after you tonight, huh? Girls. Night.” She punctuated her words with emphasis, and you tried to hide your giggling at her confusion behind your hand as even Minho groaned, both Fry and Gally snickered. “What?”

“Brenda..” Minho sighed, nodding his head towards you, where Thomas was squeezing you a little tighter, pressing a series of kisses along your hairline, and she studied you both for a second, before scoffing.

“Really? You’re taking Thomas home instead of me? Boo, you whore.”

You gaped, not sure whether to be offended or amused, and Thomas made the decision for you, protesting in offence on both of your behalves as he questioned why he was deemed as a ‘bad’ choice. “He’s bigger. He gives good cuddles. He promised me McNuggets. He smells good. Those are compelling arguments.”

Thomas’ chest puffed out a little against you and the compliments. “Uh, I smell excellent, I give great cuddles, I’d buy you a share box of nuggets that you wouldn't have to share, and I could put on tall boots.” She raised her hands, her voice teasing now, and your head tipped to the side as you stared at your best friend. “But, fine, girl’s day tomorrow it is.”

“I’ll come to that!” Newt chirped, sticking his hand up, and you nodded your head, Brenda taking the opportunity to high-five him.

“If Newt gets to go, then I’m staying.” You huffed, Thomas squeezing you a little tighter, and you lowered a hand to rest over his, soothing as his intense affections were based on the need for his comfort as well as your own.

“Uh, no.” Brenda deadpanned, her bluntness making you laugh. “You’re one of the main topics we’re going to be talking about. Newt gets to come because he can talk boys, and he tells me about hot doctors.”

“So I can’t come?” Minho chipped in, pouting a little for effect as he stared at Brenda, and her words went silent, no arguments to offer as her eyes narrowed on him, a silent argument between two colleagues that only you knew to be between two lovers, and you chuckled to yourself. He knew he’d won that battle, a smirk taking up on his face, and she huffed.

“If Min gets to go, can I come then?” Gally took a more polite approach, and you nodded your head.

“Sure you can.”

“You’re gonna’ fit all these people into your living room? On your two-seater couch?” Thomas teased, a couple of smirks being thrown in his direction at his reference to knowing your apartment so intimately, and you hadn't even realised that you’d been so freely inviting people to your home until now. You felt a little winded by the realisation, by the idea that it would be so simple to accept someone into the place that was so private to you, the place you’d retreat to after a long day to get away from work, but now, work was your family, and you wanted to share it with them.

“Well, Tommy-boy here can drive himself and you over to my place instead?”

“Team day at Minho’s!” Newt cheered, throwing his hands up in the air, and you laughed, the sound fading into a yawn as you covered your mouth.

“Okay, but late afternoon, because I’m exhausted, and I want a lot of sleep.”

“Late afternoon.” Brenda teased, rolling her eyes. “Midday. You better be there.” She barely gave Newt the chance to get the bags from the backseat before she was slamming the door closed, Gally twirling his keys on his finger and Fry already leaning against the car, half-asleep as his head was popped up on his hand.

You took your bag from Newt, who was catching a ride with Gally, the member of the firehouse who lived the closest to him. Brenda’s car was leaving first, spinning dangerously on mud-tracks as she left, and you were impressed with how recklessly she dared to drive surrounded by cops, but that was probably playing it safe for her. The rest of the team slowly followed, Thomas’ arm still wrapped loosely around your waist as he guided you over to his car, fresh mud spattered up along the polished paintwork, and your bag was placed on the backseat.

He was holding open the passenger door for you when you were ready, and you sank into the seat, offering him just a smile in acknowledgement, before he was rounding the vehicle to get in too, car starting up smoothly, and his hand on the back of your seat as he reversed out of the spot.

Switching gears, he inched forward slowly, pulling up the track carefully, and glancing back in the mirrors, before both hands were sitting on the wheel, and he was flicking on the indicator for the highway.

“You still want to go to the drive-thru?”

You considered it for a second, watching the road as he pulled out, before giving in to your craving. “Yes.”

“Okay.” He hummed, a hand reaching down to find one of your own where it was sitting in your lap, linking his fingers together loosely with your own. The radio was playing softly, the cars were flying past you on the highway as you weaved between lanes, an area you didn’t recognise, and clearly, Thomas wasn’t all that familiar with it either because he didn’t talk much, instead, focusing on the signage along the road for a long time.

It was a longer journey than you’d expected it to be, almost thirty minutes passing before you were entering an area of town that you began to recognise, the very edges of your territory as far as you’d expanded so far, and you squeezed Thomas’ hand a little tighter, letting him go every so often when he needed it to change gears or to drive, but his hand always seemed to find it’s way back to being pressed up delicately with your own.

Your mind slipped a little bit, wondering just how it was that you found yourself here.

It had been a long time since you’d allowed yourself to trust anyone, to really let anyone in, and now you found yourself surrounded. Your entire team had shown up to collect you tonight, all of them wanting to make sure you were okay; honest and true with nothing to gain from it themselves except for knowing that you were safe, and the man beside you had let himself dig in a little closer.

Instead of just holding your heart, he’d managed to let himself inside, residing there and making it his own with everything he did. The moment you’d laid your eyes on him, you’d hated him, hearing him already hate you felt like a bittersweet mouthful, making it easier not to get attached but hard as it always made you one step further from home. You’d spent so much of your life forcing people away while dreaming about one day finding your home that you’d never stopped to watch the time slipping away around you as the chances seemed to get further and further away, until Newt had forced you to.

You had your own history that made you the way you were, but you’d never stopped to give Thomas the benefit of the doubt that he did, too, and you’d taken out your anger on him when it was unwarranted. He’d clearly forgiven you for it and moved on, but you’d never really apologised.

“I’m sorry, Tommy.”

He frowned, the neutral expression he’d held switching to a frown as he began to slow the car down, navigating through the car park as a surprising number of cars still milled around, shopping at the mall in the stores with later hours into the night and various fast-food joints, the illuminated letter ‘M’ calling out to you, and Thomas joined the queue of cars.

“I never said sorry for the way I treated you. I had stuff going on, I had a lot of issues, but I didn’t stop to think that maybe you had stuff going on too, and I’m sorry.”

He seemed stuck for a second, like a deer caught in the headlights, before he sank into his seat a little bit. “That’s okay, I forgive you. You didn’t know I had stuff going on at the time, I shouldn't have been mad at you, either. I took it out on you, but really, I had issues with someone else.”

The name was on the tip of your tongue, but before you could speak your next words, the static of the intercom requesting your order made the both of you jump, and Thomas rolled down the window. It took a moment, deciding as quickly as you could and putting in an order for what it was that you were craving as your stomach rumbled again, that typical greasy smell of fast-food drifting through the open window.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the transaction, reaching out to turn the music up a little bit as you switched over to a classical station, finding the latest chart-toppers to be a little overwhelming in the moment, but late-hour classical piano and violin notes were much more comfortable. The bags were hot in your lap as Thomas handed them over clutching his McFluffy in your hand carefully and staring down longingly at the chunks of chocolate candy and caramel sauce through the lid, somewhat regretting your decision not to get one when he’d offered you one.

Parking up at the back, a little bit away from where everyone else was, and you unclipped your seatbelt, watching him do the same, before he was pushing his chair a little further back and getting comfortable. You handed him over his cheeseburger, and the fries that followed, stealing one from his portion and watching as he grinned, sitting them on his lap and unwrapping the burger, while you opened up a box of nuggets, offering one to him.

You sprinkled some salt over the box, shaking the nuggets after he’d taken one to mix the seasoning, but you couldn't eat one, couldn't focus, not when a certain question was still hanging on the tip of your tongue.

“What’s up? They make it wrong? It’s pretty hard to mess up chicken nuggets.” He teased, leaning over to inspect them and winking cheekily as he plucked another from the large box, popping it into his mouth and chewing happily, a sound made as if to confirm to you that they were okay, but the food wasn’t what was bothering you.

“Can I ask you a question, and you promise you’ll answer honestly?” his brows furrowed, but he nodded, taking another large bite of his burger. You hesitated, picking at the edges of the bag, ripping the brown paper slowly, and you sighed. “That woman in the bar, that was Teresa, wasn’t it?”

He stiffened at the mention of her name, his face falling, and he was stiff as his head turned away from you to stare out of the dashboard, and your lips pursed, anxiety coursing through you at the time that it took him to reply. He chewed slowly, eventually swallowing his mouthful, and you took a cautious bite out of a chicken nugget as you waited. “Yes.”

You nodded, keeping it to yourself and looking through the bag for a packet of ketchup, opening up the small tub and dunking the savoury treat inside, swirling it around, and eating the other half. You licked salt from your lips as you finished, and turned back to look at him, where he was staring down at his food, a confused look on his features. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

He took a breath, seeming to have an answer ready to go, as though he’d anticipated your words, before his jaw snapped shut, and he put his burger down, sighing a little and nibbling on his lower lip, before giving in. “I didn’t want you to know.” You raised your brows, not the answer you were expecting, and he turned to look at you, taking in your expression, and shrugging a little. “You said you wanted honesty.”

“But why?”

“Why didn’t I want you to know that was her?” You nodded, and he took a bite of his food, prolonging the suspense as he procrastinated on his answer. “I guess,” He spoke through his food, grimacing a little upon realising, and you couldn't help your smile, eating another one of your chicken nuggets. “Because you’re nothing like her, and what we have isn’t the same, and I didn’t want you to have to cross with her.”

“Did you love her?”

“Yes.” He didn’t pause this time, stiff once again as he gave you the truth without even considering lying, and you felt conflicted. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to reach out and comfort him, or comfort yourself and put your walls back up; in the end, the person best at comforting you was Thomas, and so you needed to be that for him. Reaching a hand out, you placed it on his arm, and he jumped at the contact, seeming shocked by it. He turned to look at you, eyes dropping to where your hand was sitting on his arm. “Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t have anything to be mad at you for, Tommy. I’m just sorry you got hurt.” You whispered, and he let out a shaky breath, his hand coming up to sit on your cheek, his face dropping to bump his nose with your own, sharing a breath and nudging into you.

“Just so you know, this is one of those moments that I would kiss you, if we’d already had our first kiss.”

“I’ll remember that.” You grinned, bumping back against him, before pulling away, and eating a chicken nugget as he whined slightly at the loss of intimacy.

“She, uh, she was a paramedic. You reminded me of her, at first.” You turned, realising that in the interest of honesty, he was going to tell you it all; the information that other members of the team skirted around and answered vaguely, a mystery that had been locked up tight to keep you out of, all of them having gotten hurt in some way. “She had the same attitude you did, she didn’t really let people in; a lot of walls. We were.. something. She didn’t want to put a label on it, she wanted me behind closed doors but never wanted me near her in front of the rest of the team. She had boundaries, she wanted me to come over late but never wanted me to stay the night, she wanted to have dinner and drinks but never in public. It felt exciting, but wrong. But I couldn't stop.”

“Thomas, you don’t have to tell me this.” He sniffed a little, eating his fries quietly and shaking his head a little as he relived the memories.

“I want you to know.” You felt touched that he wanted to share one of his deepest pains with you, but it was scary, because it meant you had to do the same. “I should have seen the signs, she always wanted more, and she never wanted to settle down, kind of like you.” His words cut a little, stinging, despite knowing them to be true. “She said she was leaving one day, out of the blue, and I blamed myself for it. We got into an argument, she didn’t even tell me she was moving house until she asked me to sign her transfer papers. We yelled a lot, and I was upset, so I signed them and told her to just leave. She did.”

“Is, uh, is that the day that-”

“Newt got hurt? Yeah.” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke. “She left, and I was upset, and about an hour later, we got a call. I’d been too busy pacing my office and seething over it that I didn’t call in for a substitute. Newt told me it was okay, he’d been comforting me. He went alone on that call, got stuck under material that had fallen on his leg. Minho found him and carried him out after he passed out.”

He crushed the empty cardboard carton in his hand, the sudden sound making you twitch at the shock, and he whispered an apology upon sensing the environment he’d created.

“Newt’s been my best friend since I was a kid, and because of my feelings, he got hurt. I shouldn't have taken it out on you, but there were just so many similarities, it was overwhelming. I didn't want you to meet her, because you're nothing like her.”

“I’m not? Kinda’ sounds like we’re the same.” You finished your food, packing the wrapped back into the bag, and facing him more confidently as you turned in your chair, and he chuckled.

“You’re nothing like her. She may have been what I loved once, but you’re something entirely different.” He picked up his ice-cream, peeling back the lid on it and poking at the contents with a smile on his face now as he mixed the toppings in. “You’re sweet, you get along with everyone and you want to be with us, I can tell, even if you were going to leave at first. You.. you want me, you don’t hide it. I like that. You’ve spared my best friend a lot of pain instead of causing it, and you make Brenda feel like a woman again when she’s surrounded by men, and you cook with Fry. You’re a real part of our family, I don’t think she ever was.”

Once he deemed it thoroughly mixed, he took a large spoonful of it, holding it up and poking it against your smile lightly.

“Take a bite, I know you want some. You can share mine.”

You did as told, accepting the ice-cream he was offering to you, and relishing in the sweet flavour. He took his own bite, and despite how happy you were, there was still a pang of lingering guilt as you kept back your secrets from him after he’d told you his. “You’re not the first firemen I’ve been involved with.”

“I figured as much.” You were a little surprised, pausing in your words as he looked at you like it was no big deal, and he shrugged, offering you another spoonful. “I mean, I figured you had to have some kind of history in a firehouse, with your transfer record, more switches than a lightbulb sees.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning at his joke a little. “Well, you were right. In my first house, I was straight out of the academy and young, and there was a fireman. He was charming, and very attractive, and he had this way that made my heart race.” You reached up, wiping a stray piece of ice-cream for the edge of Thomas’ lip. “Like you do.”

“I make your heart race?” He was smirking, liking knowing he had such an effect on you, and you redirected your attention to the dessert, turning the spoon he was bringing to his mouth and stealing the spoonful, the chill helping to calm your flushing features.

“You know you do.” You swallowed the treat, licking the sugary taste from your lips. “He had a previous injury, and a drug problem. I was young and naïve, and he wanted the ambulance stock for the pain so he could avoid surgery. When the truth came out, I took the fall and lost my job, while he got off with a reprimand and being put on probation. I had to move to a whole new state to escape it and find a new firehouse. When someone tried to get close to me there, I panicked and thought they would use me again. I moved, and I moved, and I moved. Whenever someone got close, I panicked. I got confused. I wanted family, and I was so set on finding that perfect family that I never stopped to let anyone in, until I came to ‘21, and encountered a moody lieutenant.”

Thomas grinned, cold lips pressing to your cheek as he ducked down, and you squirmed at the slightly sticky feeling of melted ice-cream, the cardboard cup empty as it had been shared between you both.

“My real family, there’s not much to say about them. I don’t have much, my mother hasn’t spoken to me in a while, she sends a birthday card every year, and that's about all there is for me. Until I found all of you.”

“It was just me and my mom when I was a kid, and there was a house fire. She’s never been quite right since, I grew up looking after her, and Newt was the kid across the road who brought me trays of food his mom made for us, and who brought me the homework sheets when I had to leave school early. He’s my family, too. This whole squad is.”

You felt like a weight had been lifted off of your chest from the confessions, from finally trusting someone enough to tell them your story, feeling the burn of tears in the back of your throat, but you were too tired to cry, having no tears left to give. “Tommy?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“Can we go home now?” He nodded, starting the car back up, and you leaned over the centre console a little to rest your head on his shoulder, feeling him turn to press a kiss to the top of your head. “When we get there, I want to go to bed, and I want you to stay the night, and then I want to spend the whole day with you tomorrow, in front of our family, without hiding anything.”

He took a second to reply, letting out an unsteady laugh, before starting up the car and nodding for you as you pulled back. “I would fucking love that.”

#thomas #the maze runner #ff!tommy #firefighter!tommy #smoke and fire #SAF #thomas x reader #thomas/reader #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner

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1engele · 3 years

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daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 4. questions

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[warnings: cursing, smoking, death mention, sexual discussion, drug mention]

"every mile further, there's a part of me that slips away."

—

At lunch, you and Sal eventually locate the group's spot in the cafeteria. It felt almost like a walk of shame as the two of you approached and cautiously sat down at the table.

Todd, Ashley, and Larry all turn their heads toward you both. Normally, they'd most likely greet you as if nothing was wrong—which, to their knowledge, nothing was—but this time they were hesitant in saying anything. You could only guess they'd caught the wave as soon as you'd both sat down.

Larry looked calmer than he did in the car. You hoped Ashley and Todd talked him down.

"Alright, something's weird," Ashley's suspicious eyes flitted between you and Sal. "What happened?"

Sal looked you in the eye, before returning his gaze to Ash. "Nothing, we-"

You should have let Sal lie about it, but the fact he still wanted to be selfless and keep the peace made you angry on his behalf and was enough to make you cut in. "Something happened in class that pissed Travis off. In the hall, he fucking cuffed Sal in the face."

Larry jerks forward in his seat. You take advantage of his shock to keep speaking. "His shirt had blood all over it. That's why I gave him my sweater."

"What the fuck?" Ashley's eyes were wide, her entire expression forming into something furious. "We need to report him."

"No, we don't," Sal shakes his head. "It makes things worse. It wasn't even that bad. The blood was superficial. It didn't even take more than a minute for her-" he looks to you, clears his throat, and corrects himself. You guess he doesn't want any questions being asked about what happened in the girl's bathroom. "-for me to clean it up."

Todd swallows a bite of his sandwich and speaks up. "Sal may be right. It would make things worse. That doesn't mean it's justified, though—no matter what Travis is going through at home."

"You know what is justified?" Larry is seething in his spot. "Him getting his shit beat. When the day's over, I'm taking him behind the school and knocking the lights out of his fucking head."

Sal inhales beside you.

"Yeah—that's not going to do anything," you breathe. You feel the blue-haired boy shift beside you—like he'd turned his head your way. "I actually spoke to him on the first day of school."

Ashley's eyebrows fly up. "What? What did he say?"

"We were all in the hallway," you began to explain, slowly and steadily. "I'd seen him giving Sal weird looks earlier in class—and at that moment, he seemed off, too—just standing there at the far end of the hall."

You paused. "I don't know. I've seen it before. It was like he was gearing himself up to walk over and say something. So I took it upon myself to beat him to it. I went over, asked him what he was planning on doing—told him to pick his battles. He almost went over anyway, but I put my hand on him and told him how that wouldn't end well."

You swallowed and glanced around anxiously. "He looked at me, scoffed, and walked away."

Your hand raises to your neck. You absentmindedly drag your knuckles over your throat—a nervous habit. "I hope I didn't make things worse. If I'd known that maybe that was the reason he was pissed off today I wouldn't have done anything."

Sal hadn't looked away from you the entire time you'd been speaking. Carefully, he shifts in his seat to face you and starts: "No," he shakes his head. "He would have hit me anyway. What you said didn't make him do that. It's about what happened in class."

He glanced over the table before meeting your eyes again. "He's jealous. I think he wishes he had something like we- he wishes he had a friend. That's all. So don't blame yourself for Travis' actions like you caused them when all you were trying to do was defend me."

Tears form but you blink them away quickly. Something flashes behind Sal's eyes and he looks as if he's going to say something to console you but someone's speaking before he can. You look away first, settling your eyes on the table.

"What happened in class?" Ashley asks, slowly reaching for her bag of chips.

Sal's eyebrows twitch downward. "Nothing. I tried giving Y/N another answer and Mrs. Packerton gave us detention. That made Travis mad, for some reason."

Larry lets out a bittersweet laugh. "As funny as Mrs. Packerton giving you detention is-"

Sal rolls his eyes in your peripheral vision.

"-why would that make Travis mad? It's not like he's a goody-two-shoes. He barely gets by in school."

Sal shrugs. "Who knows. I really don't care what he thinks, anyway."

Larry is beside himself with frustration. You can tell it. He's tense and his jaw is hard. You know he's ready to get up and talk to the other side of the cafeteria and beat the fuck out of Travis but he knows he can't—because Sal doesn't want that.

"If I were you, I would have killed him already," Larry mutters. "Don't know how you do it, dude. I don't think you aren't capable of it."

The boy beside you falters. "I don't care about what he says to me. It's really about what he says to other people. When he started saying shit to Y/N—I, uh- I'll admit, I did sort of feel like hurting him."

Your heart skips a beat. Immediately after this happens, you feel like slapping yourself in the face for letting your hormones get the better of you.

You watch the rest of the table exchange glances you would've missed—had you blinked—before Ashley speaks. "Whatever. I just don't get why he lets his anger out on somebody who's done nothing to him."

After that, the conversation steadily drifts into something more lighthearted. Larry makes fun of you and Sal for getting detention for something you nearly got caught for the previous day. Todd recites facts about medieval times and Ashley for some reason thinks that it's hilarious and laughs.

You enjoy the rest of lunch, despite the earlier topic.

You've come to realize this school absolutely does not give a shit. You and Sal are accepted into detention without any further notice for your parents. As far as you know, the faculty hadn't contacted nor your mother or Sal's parents.

"Let me call my dad," Sal mumbles, as you both approach the door to detention. "When I'm not home in time he always thinks something bad's happened to me, haha."

He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and flips it open.

"I'd call my mom, but I don't think she'd care," you laugh. It isn't bitter, really—you just couldn't care less. "From how you turned out, I bet your mom is really cool."

Sal looks up from his phone. "Thank you. Uh, yeah. She was good to me."

You falter at the 'was' and ask a question even though you shouldn't have. "Are your parents separated, Sal?"

He falters, waves the phone in his hand a little. "My mother, ah- is dead, Y/N."

Dread plunges to the bottom of your gut like a heavy rock and weighs your insides down. You feel like the biggest idiot known to the world—and you feel even stupider now that you can't muster the words up to apologize to him.

Eventually, you collect yourself—only to spiral yourself downward into further shame.

"Sal, I am so sorry," you breathe. "I should have caught on sooner."

He seems almost surprised concerning your sincerity, eyebrows raising and his eyes widening. Sal quickly raises his hands and waves them, his demeanor appearing distraught. "No! No, don't feel bad. There's no way you could've known. I don't talk about family much."

You breathe in slowly. "I'm such a horrible person. Here I am, complaining about calling my mother, and.."

He blinks down at you sincerely, glances both ways down the hall, and returns his gaze to you, and speaks: "Do you want to just get out of here?"

Your head jerks upward. You swallow the saliva that had pooled in your mouth and fumble for a response. "What do you mean?"

Sal breathily laughs. "We'll get in a lot of trouble for this—but you only live once, right?" He shifts his weight and takes a step closer to you. "Let's just ditch the detention. Me and you."

Your heart jumps. "Don't you have really good grades? Sal, what if-"

"That doesn't matter," he blurts. You meet his eyes. The blue in them cast something familiar onto you—exhaustion. Numbness. The want to feel, the want to be exhilarated.

You don't know this boy very well—but you see something of yourself in him. A person who's kept between the lives most of their life, but they're just itching to break through that wall.

Sal is bored. He's sad. And he wants the thrill.

"Let's do it."

You and Sal both escape the school in a matter of a few minutes. Leaving involved a lot of unnecessary running and giggling and navigating through halls—but you make it out and breathe in the crisp, autumn air. It further dries your parched throat and rustles your hair.

"Wow," Sal breathes, beside you, as you both stand with feet firmly planted on the concrete. You're a few yards away from the school, enough distance between you and the building to where you can feel comfortable. "Never done anything like that before."

You laugh. "We ditched detention, Sal. We didn't run from the law."

"To my standards, we may as well have." He meets your eyes, the breeze blowing past his blue hair. "What do you want to do next?"

You take Sal to a playground. It takes a little while of absentminded walking and searching for something to appear, but eventually your eyes catch on that swing set and you can't resist.

"Come on!" You grin and run towards it.

He laughs behind you, and follows you a little less excitedly, taking his time with walking.

You sit side by side. You dig the toe of your shoe into the ground and push yourself into a steady rock, back and forth. The chains squeak which each movement of the swing.

"Hey, Sal?"

He looks over at you, his hair rustling with the autumn breeze. The more you look at it, the more jarring the contrast becomes—the blue against the backdrop of orange and red trees and the dull sky. "Yeah?"

"Wanna play 20 questions?"

Sal blinks toward you. He brings his hands up to grip the chains attached to his swing. "Sure."

"Okay. Just one rule-"

"Don't ask for your bra size?"

You laugh. "No. If you really want to know, it's-"

He waves a hand hurriedly. You notice the strain in his voice when he replies. "I was just kidding. What's the rule?"

"No boring questions. That's it."

Sal chuckles. "I'm a boring person, so I can't really promise that."

No, you're not, you thought.

"Prove me wrong. You go first."

"Favorite color?"

You chuckle, kicking dirt up from the ground as you push yourself into a steady rock, back and forth. "Wow. What a question. Uh... I don't know. There's a lot of great colors." You glance toward him, shivering as a gust of wind brushes your clothed shoulders. "Blue."

He inclines his head toward you. "It's your turn, now."

You pause. "I'll ask you the same thing. What's your favorite color?"

"Yellow. If you could choose a way to die, how would you? Old age or something peaceful doesn't count."

The abruptness of the shift in topic makes you laugh. "I'd like to be struck by lightning."

He peers at you curiously. "Why?"

"Does that count as one of your questions?"

Sal fingers at the chains of his swing. "Yeah, sure."

You shrug your shoulders, sucking your front teeth behind your lips. "I don't know, honestly. I'd like to know how it feels. It would probably just feel like fire, and it would fucking hurt—but wouldn't it be kind of cool? Have you seen a photo of someone after being struck by lightning?"

He giggles, lifts a foot and presses the bottom of his shoe against the other one. "Does that count as one of your questions?"

"Shut up. Have you?"

"No. What's it look like?"

You grin. "It's like.. tree roots. Or a branch with leaves on it—but it's a scar. You'd have to see it to understand."

Sal looks as though he's about to say something else—probably tease you for your strange fixation on lightning strike victims—but you beat him to the punch. "My turn. What's your favorite song?"

"Memories and Dreams, Sanity's Fall."

You raise your eyebrows. "Metal? Well, now that I think about it, you seem the type."

"Larry actually introduced me to it. I didn't really listen to anything before I met him. Alright, I'll ask you the same question. Favorite song?"

"Wonderwall, Oasis."

"That one's pretty recent," he hums, pauses, and thinks about it. "Yeah. That sounds like you. I like it."

You smile shyly. "It's not metal, sorry. Can we still be friends?"

Sal exhales through his nose amusedly. "No. You don't like the same music genre as me. Friendship over."

You laugh. "Well, I never said I didn't like metal. Anyway, my question is.. when's your birthday?"

"December 20th."

Your eyebrows raise. "Holy shit. You're nearly a Jesus baby."

Sal chuckles. "I'm far from being the second coming. It's 5 days off, anyway."

That makes him a Sagittarius. You're pretty familiar with the general traits of the zodiac signs—personality traits, physical traits, sexual tendencies—like a lot of teenagers nowadays.

Well, if he's true to the zodiac, he has a high sex drive.

Your face feels hot. You're a creep, your brain says.

A few questions pass by. He asks about your birthday, you ask him his favorite movie, etc. You're nearing the end of the game, and it's been a decent amount of time. It feels almost too soon when the sun begins to drift down in the sky.

"Alright, my turn," you say after you've answered the question Sal had just asked you.

"Shoot."

"Are you a virgin?"

A tense moment passes, and you seriously regret asking. All you can hear is your heart thrumming in your ears and your blood rushing towards it and through all of you.

He meets your eyes evenly. "Yeah. Obviously."

"I don't believe you," you reply, immediately.

His eyebrows raise. "Why not?"

You hope he can't hear your pulse. "Because. You answered that way too smoothly."

"That makes no sense. If I were lying, I wouldn't have been as cool about it."

You narrow your eyes. "That's not just it, though. Why hasn't someone fucked you?"

If the abruptness of your question shocked you, it certainly shocked him. Sal laughed loudly like he was in disbelief—swaying his head away from you. His knuckles grow white around the swing chains.

His head turns back and his eyes meet yours straight on. "What are you trying to say?"

"Oh my god," you slapped a hand over your mouth. "I sounded so ignorant just now. Sorry. I'm not shaming you—that would make me a hypocrite. I'm a virgin too."

Sal huffs out another laugh, breathily this time. "No, I didn't think you were being ignorant. That's not what I was asking you."

You pause. "Then.." You plant your feet on the ground and stop the sway the swing is in. The sun continues to drop further down in the sky, and it's golden light warms your face.

You look away from him, your heart beating against your ribs. "Hey, I have an idea."

When you turned your head Sal's way, his attention was already on you. "Yeah?"

"You said that you drive, right?"

"Yeah. Not legally. But I can drive. Why do you ask?"

You grin.

By the time you've arrived at the apartments, the sun has fully dropped out of the sky and the heavens were completely black—save for the full moon and the speckles of bright stars. This is one of the things you love about Nockfell—it's so far out. The lack of air pollution and chemicals below the clouds made the celestial bodies out there so much clearer.

"My dad's going to kill me," Sal muttered, as he forced his personal key into the door to his apartment.

"Hey, Sal, you know we don't have to-"

His head turns to you. "I never said that. I want to."

Sal pulls the key out and slowly turns the knob beneath his long fingers. Instead of easing the door at a steady pace, he holds on tighter to the knob and pushes it open quickly. For a moment, you almost scolded him for his recklessness—until you realized he'd done this so the door wouldn't whine on its hinges.

"Have you snuck in or out before?" You ask him, voice low as you watch him lean down to take his shoes off before he enters the apartment. "Why are you doing that?"

"These floorboards are shit. They creak under the carpet. Wait here."

He leaves his cornflower blue sneakers at the foot of the door and walks inside. You watch the back of his head as his figure disappears into the darkness of the room. Sure enough, he was right. His feet only emanate soft pats against the carpet and don't disturb the wood beneath—because he's only wearing socks. You hear the sound of keys before he returns to you.

"You didn't answer my question," you murmur with a teasing lilt, as he slides the door back into its place in the frame. He locks it back and turns to you.

"Not like this. I especially haven't stolen his car."

You laugh. "I hope I'm not becoming a bad influence on you. We've already ditched detention today.."

"Yeah, but that was my idea," he reminds you.

"I guess you're right. Do you think your dad will be mad at you?"

You loom over him as he forces his feet back into his sneakers. "Honestly? Probably. I've never done anything like that before. Getting detention is one thing, but leaving the school before actually attending it is something else entirely."

The both of you enter the elevator instead of going down the stairs. It's late, this complex is shit, and the stairwell wouldn't be lit.

Somehow, it hadn't crossed either of your minds that taking this elevator so late wouldn't be exactly wise either, but you'd stepped inside of the compartment anyways.

You stepped to Sal's left and watched him press the button for the first floor with his knuckle. As soon as he'd done that, and the elevator doors had slid closed, the singular light that illuminated the compartment flicked off and the both of you stood in abrupt darkness.

"Holy shit!" You exclaimed, jutting yourself into Sal's side and grasping the material of your sweater that he wore. "I'm sorry, but what the fuck? Did it just break?"

"No," he laughed, shifting his weight towards you. "It always does that in the night. I think it's to conserve power so the elevator doesn't break altogether."

You let go of him, embarrassment fluttering in your gut. You weren't sure whether to feel relief as you felt the elevator make it's descent downward. "I mean.. shouldn't there be a sign? I don't know.. that says something like.."

"'You aren't about to plummet to your death, the building's just really old?'" Sal finished your sentence for you and chuckled. "Yeah. If someone had a heart attack, they could sue. But the guy that runs this place is really old and doesn't really have family—so that would just be sad."

You're close enough to him to where you can feel him shrug. "There's an awful lot about this place that's rundown and weird and honestly sketchy, but Addison doesn't care. For instance, the college kids that live in 301? They spend all of their free time doing coke and heroin."

Your eyebrows raise into your hairline as you listen along.

"They're super nice people, and I don't mean to be rude at all, but god, you can smell the body rot inside of that apartment. It's really sad."

You look to him. "You've.. been inside of there," It wasn't a question—more of a statement.

"Yeah. I did coke with them once or twice."

You get whiplash, that's how fast your head whips toward him. "Sal," you breathe. "I don't mean to sound overbearing, but please don't do that. Ever again."

He huffs, but not of frustration. It's of resignation and understanding and shame. "I.. I'll admit it to you, Y/N, that shit is a lot more addictive than it's made out to be. I'm not going to tell you how I felt because I don't want to make it out to be enticing—but I can understand why they're addicts. I'd only done it a few times and it felt like any time I wasn't doing it I itched for it. Eventually, I got busier with school and other things—so after a while, I.. guess I sort of forgot."

You hear him turn his head to look at you. You barely make out his prosthetic face in the black. "I'll smoke cigarettes with you, Y/N, but I'll never introduce you to something like cocaine. By the way you reacted when I told you I'd done it, I hope you won't do it yourself."

You meet his eyes amidst the darkness. "You know, Sal," your gaze wanders to the elevator doors. The compartment shutters as it reaches its destination on the ground floor. Your fingers brush his with purpose. "I know of a lot better feelings that don't come from drugs."

Your heartbeat sounds like gushing blood in your ears. You feel his burning blue eyes on the back of your head.

At the same time as you're stepping out of the elevator, you've stepped into something else.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader

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hiinnys · 3 years

Text

i buried a hatchet (it’s coming up lavender)

(hello! it’s been a minute! sorry, i’ve unfortunately been trapped under work’s capitalist foot!! but how are yall? MAJOR happy birthday to harry james! thank you for being my comfort character <3 anyways, hope you enjoy harry’s little 22nd party, which is also on ao3!)

the planning starts in may. it’s nearly three months early, but may brings bad memories molly’s always tried to avoid. it’s a simple question about cake flavors pointed at harry and ginny, their birthdays always planned in tandem, but harry freezes nonetheless. it’s nothing anyone would notice, but ginny does because she’s ginny and harry’s always been what she’s good at. so when they’re alone later and she asks about it, he’s not surprised.

“it’s stupid,” he says, shaking his head in that way he does that makes him seem so small ginny’s heart aches.

“harry,” she pushes this one, feels like she has to.

“it’s just…i’m twenty-two this year, aren’t i?”

“yeah?”

“i’m always gonna be older than them now,” he almost whispers, like it’s a crime to even speak aloud. he sits down on the bed just then. the bed in his flat that he’s been too scared to ask her to share with him. he wonders briefly if his dad was ever as scared to ask his mum something so easy; wonders if his dad ever got the chance to be, or if that was just another thing war took away from him.

“harry,” she sits next to him, body angled towards him so her legs are pushed up against his side. “talk to me.”

it’s a simple request; ginny’s like that, takes only the smallest pieces of him because she thinks everyone else takes too much. he wants to tell her that she can take as much as she wants, it’s all hers anyways, but he doesn’t know how, so he settles for giving her what she’s asked of him.

“it feels…wrong, i guess, to celebrate it,” he sighs, tries to quell the storm in his chest, in his head (doesn’t succeed). “it feels like i’m celebrating their deaths.”

she’s silent for a moment, like she’s thinking it all through, weighing the merits of what he’s said, and he can’t quite express how grateful he is that she gives him this - her respect, her thoughtfulness, her whole self, each and every time.

“i get it,” she finally says. “but you can’t live the rest of your life avoiding your birthday. i think you’ve already missed too many in your parents’ books.”

he knows she’s right, thinks about his years with the dursleys, about how he didn’t even know his birthday until he was five and a teacher at primary told him. he nods his head.

“but-,” he starts.

“just not this one,” she finishes. “yeah, i get it.”

the next time they’re at the burrow, ginny casually mentions that she’s actually surprised harry with a weekend trip for his birthday, seeing as he never takes time off otherwise, and if the family would like, they could do a joint cake at ginny’s birthday dinner.

***

she actually does surprise him with a trip, something that he wasn’t expecting, but she suggests they bring teddy along and harry reckons the kid’s due for a holiday. she doesn’t tell him where they’re going to start, just piles the three of them in harry’s car and tells him to drive (she’s yet to pass her driver’s test, but ginny’s one of the few people who genuinely enjoys the tube so she’s not in any rush).

it’s when they’re less than halfway there that harry realizes she has them set out for shell cottage.

“really? you thought bringing me to your brother’s place would be a nice birthday surprise?”

“first of all, you said yourself we aren’t celebrating your birthday, and, second, bill and fleur aren’t home. they’re in france, so i asked if we could borrow the place for the weekend and they said yes.”

“fair enough.”

***

teddy’s antsy for the water as soon as he sees it, so they only go as far as throwing their stuff in the sitting room before taking him down to the shoreline. he splashes happily through the calm water, and his clothes are soaked to the brim, but his laughter fills the air, so harry lets it be.

“harry!” the five year-old shouts, holding up a distinctly purple piece of coral. “look! pretty!”

“you wanna take it with you?”

“YES!” he screams, eyes wide with glee, and harry can’t help the rush of love for his godson. he exaggerates tucking the coral into his pocket when teddy hands it to him, just to affirm ted’s desire to keep it safe. when he turns around, ginny’s smiling at them from her place on a rock, jeans pushed up to her knees, feet in the water and red hair blowing in the wind, and harry finally feels peace settle into his heart.

***

the rest of the day passes rather quietly. when they finally make it in from the beach, the day catches up with teddy, leaving him exhausted and irate, so harry gives him a quick bath and settles the boy in for a small nap. when he gets back down, ginny’s changed and sits on a bar stool in the kitchen, picking at the last of the snack plate harry had made earlier in lieu of a proper lunch.

“hungry?” harry asks and, at her nod of affirmation, starts looking through the fridge to figure out what dinner can be. they sit in an easy silence for a bit, harry washing and cutting vegetables and ginny watching. over the years, he’s learned she likes to watch him cook, and though the reason for it doesn’t make too much sense to him, he likes having her there, so he’s never questioned it much.

“thank you for this,” he finally says.

“for what?”

“bringing us here. i’ve been in my head about it all too much, i think. the whole twenty-two thing. it’s nice to not have to think about it for a bit.”

she studies him for a minute, like she’s trying to look right at the core of him, so he puts down the knife he’s been using to chop the vegetables and gives her all of himself.

“you never have to thank me,” she says after a minute.

“i know.”

***

teddy “helps” harry clean up after dinner that night, which really just means that ted sits on the counter next to the kitchen sink and rattles on about something or the other while harry does the dishes. every now and then, harry blows some soap bubbles on the boy and basks in the glow of the laughter it brings out of him.

an hour later (and well past his bedtime), harry finally manages to get teddy to stay beneath the sheets, but it’s only when ginny reads him babbity rabbity twice and swears on her life that they’ll go back down to the water tomorrow that teddy settles in for the night.

“harry!” he whispers as harry’s switching off the light.

“yeah, mate,” harry stage-whispers back, his eyebrows raised for ginny’s amusement.

“happy birthday!” teddy murmurs tiredly.

“that’s tomorrow, mate.”

“still,” the boy whines.

“thanks, ted,” harry responds, gentle smile on his face.

when they finally make it into their room, harry places a quick silencing charm on the door. at ginny’s raised brow, he says, rather simply:

“for good measure.”

ginny snorts.

they’re silent as they get ready for bed, and harry lets himself sink deep into the warmth of it. they don’t get this too often, the pair of them; ginny’s spot in the harpies takes her across the world and, when harry’s not in some obscure town somewhere tracking some homicidal maniac or the other, kingsley has him on diplomatic missions across the continent. it grates at harry sometimes, how little he gets to be with his girlfriend, but ginny has games to play and championships to win and harry has people to catch and (every now and then) laws to change, and neither has any desire to stop anytime soon so they live with it. in his opinion, they’re pretty good at it. they know their limits. they carve time out for each other, always. harry makes it to all the big games, the ones she’s nervous about. ginny makes it to every stupid ceremony and the endless galas that make harry want to claw his eyes out. she keeps him going; he keeps her sane, and the rest they take as it comes, together. always together.

“harry,” her voice, light as the sun, breaks him out of his reverie. “where’d you go?”

“sorry,” he whispers back. “just in my head a bit.”

“that’s okay. it’s a nice head.”

“it’s a nice head?” he grins at her, knowing she’s caught. ginny rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her face, and when she’s done feigning her annoyance, she pulls him in for a kiss. it’s calm and confident and everything that is ginny and when they fuck, they look into each other’s eyes the entire time, and he’s reminded, with each thrust, of just how much he loves her.

***

when he wakes up, the room’s dark, the spot next to him is empty, and he can hear voices coming from below. his heart clenches for a minute, a piece of the war he’ll never be able to let go of, but it eases when he sees ginny’s wand, still on the table, still next to his.

he gets out of bed silently (mentally thanking his auror training) and makes the short walk down the hallway towards the stairs when he sees teddy’s door open too. before he has the chance to panic this time, though, he hears the boy’s laugh followed by ginny’s own giggle. there’s a smile on his face now that he knows ginny would tease him about if she could see it, but he honestly can’t help it. not when he’s in this house, full of a warmth that he’s finally, blessedly, allowed to be a part of. he spots them in the kitchen, but from their angle, he knows they can’t see him. ginny’s leaning against the counter, mixing something in a rather large bowl, while teddy’s sitting on the counter next to her, weirdly, waving a strawberry in the air.

“we gotta put it in!” he whispers, in the way five year-olds do, which isn’t much of a whisper at all. “harry loves strawberries!”

“strawberries in a birthday cake? i’m afraid you may be a genius, ted,” ginny announces in a quiet voice, while harry’s eyes fill with unshed tears. he stays glued to the spot for a bit longer, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he’s ruining their surprise, but not being able to turn away from his family. eventually though, he does. he climbs, silently, back up the stairs and slips back into his and ginny’s bed. when he falls back asleep, it’s with the ghost of a smile on his face and a feeling he doesn’t think he’s known until this moment.

***

he’s woken up in the morning by teddy trying to pull his arm off.

“wha-”

“come on,” the boy whines. “it’s breakfast!”

at that, harry wakes up instantly, feeling the guilt wash over him at the idea of leaving teddy without food. it’s only then that he smells the coffee in the air and realizes that ginny isn’t next to him. he breathes just then, quickly realizing that teddy isn’t hungry; he just wants harry awake.

“sorry, mate,” harry smiles at him guiltily, voice a bit rough with sleep. he lets ted drag him down stairs, the boy practically bouncing the entire way down. when they get to the kitchen, he’s met with ginny - long hair in a knot atop her head, eyes still a little sleep tired - grinning around a piece of toast.

“morning,” she smiles up at him and he gives her a lopsided grin in return.

“ginny, ginny, ginny,” teddy bounces next to her. “we’ve gotta do it now!” he whispers.

“we should probably let him eat first,” ginny whispers back.

“no! we gotta do it now!”

“alright, alright,” she responds. “harry,” she gestures to a seat, which harry takes, brows furrowed though he thinks he knows what’s coming. sure enough, ginny and teddy disappear for a few seconds, then come back with a slightly lopsided cake adorned in strawberries, a single candle lit in the middle. he beams the minute he sees them, which turns into an all out laugh the minute teddy starts up his rendition of ‘happy birthday’ which usually involves a lot of lyrics that never stay the same and none of them ever know. when ted’s done, ginny tells him to make a wish and harry asks teddy for help blowing out the candle.

they skip actual breakfast, choosing to tuck into the cake first. it’s sickly sweet and makes teddy smile from ear to ear, frosting covering his cheeks.

“like it, mate,” harry bemusedly asks. all teddy manages is a quick nod between bites, and harry knows he’ll regret letting the kid have two slices later on. but that’s later and this is right now and right now, he’s sat at a table with the two people he loves most in the world, eating a cake they made for him. right now, he’s celebrating - in his own, admittedly, small way - a birthday his parents’ never got to. right now, he’s doing everything they wanted for themselves and him. right now (and everyday after), he’s their son, the same as he’s always been, keeping them alive with every breath he breathes, every birthday he celebrates. right now, he’s sat with the woman he loves, laughing as he watches his godson attempt to fit an entire strawberry in his mouth, so completely and ridiculously happy.

happy birthday, ginny mouths from over teddy’s head. harry smiles easily at her, love shining through his eyes, lighter than he’s ever been.

#hinny #hinny fic #happy 41st harry! you deserve nothing less than all the love in the world #i realize canon says harry should be a dad at this point so this is definitely not canon-complaint #oops #okay ill shut up now #hope you've all been good <3333 #goes without saying but fuck jkr

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quirkisms · 3 years

Text

OFF YOUR CHEST - M. TOGATA (i)

pairing: mirio togata x fem!reader

summary: Mirio tears himself apart, and you're there to heal the pieces.

word count: 2k

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, strangers(ish) to lovers, AU where UA is college, not highschool (i dont want 2 write about minors), mirio is quirkless and is Dealing With It, slow burn, trauma and anxiety coping

ao3

He splits another knuckle open.

It’s no different than any other exercise or training, but he’s different. He’s stronger now, and smarter but he’s still less. He punches the wall again, willing it to go through. For a second, he thinks he can feel the soft tendrils of the void past the surface beckoning him, urging him forth. It’s asking him where he’s been, that it missed him and that he’s back. For that second, it’s real. His hand is sinking through and he’s back.

But the rough texture of the wall sinks into the cuts he’s ripped into his skin and he’s pulling back, sucking in air through his teeth and withholding curses.

He cradles his right hand with his left, blood trailing down the grooves of the taught tendons on both battered hands.

Mirio’s chest is heaving, his breaths varying from deep to shallow, his heart rate erratic. The buzz in his pocket disrupts his stare at the red stains his punches had left.

TAMAKI

where r u

It hurts to curl his hand around the device, but he does anyway. He wipes the other hand on his pants before responding.

Training! What’s up?

TAMAKI

patrolling tn. just wanted to lyk

Okay - Stay safe! 😀

Mirio pockets his phone. He wants to manually rub the grime out of the cuts or even just leave them the way they are. The sting is a juxtaposition from how his life was before. No longer can he float in the nothingness, phase through infinity until he needs to come up for air.

He feels everything now.

He makes his way towards UA’s medical clinic. It’s late, past dinner at least, which means it’ll be empty save for one person. Recovery Girl doesn’t work the hours like she used to, not since you came in. The clinic after hours feels safe, secretive and his. You’re always there late, as far as Mirio knows. Since the first time he injured himself by pushing himself past his newfound limits (which were significantly less than what they used to be) you’d always been there when he’d sneak in.

Tonight, you were hunched over textbooks, highlighter dangling out of your mouth. If he could’ve, he would’ve lingered in the doorway to watch you. Instead, the few droplets of blood spilling from his hands alerted you of his presence. You peek over your shoulder at him before capping the marker and nodding for him to sit on one of the empty exam beds. It was routine.

“You outdid yourself this time,” You said as you cleaned the open wounds. He’d beaten the flesh raw, almost exposing bone and you wanted to scold him but you knew it was useless. He’d just brush you off with a shrug, a smile and tell you it’s not that big of a deal. Pain is part of getting stronger.

Mirio doesn’t respond. Instead, he chooses to let his eyes flick around the room. Recovery Girl’s absence is notable - no more jar of candy, and you’ve taken over her desk and littered it with your own knicknacks. Your textbooks, an All Might water bottle, a Kamui Woods pez dispenser. It’s cute, he thinks.

“Did you have a punching match with one of those hardening quirks?” You’re frowning as you pop a piece of jerky in your mouth. “Maybe Cementoss?”

“Cementoss,” he confirms, only because that would be the only way he’d have so much...particulate within the splits. Cementoss was made of rock, and Mirio would rather die than admit to you he was relentlessly punching a wall.

You snort, shaking your head as you chew. You both know he’s full of it, but you drop it. You always do.

A soft, blue glow escapes from underneath your hand. His hand feels fuzzy, like it's fallen asleep before it dissipates and you remove your hand, motioning for him to lift his other so you can begin the same process.

As you clean the other hand, Mirio watches you work. You ignore the weight of his gaze the best you can, focusing on repairing the skin and not how strong and smooth his fingers are. His hand is heavy in yours, and the glow of your quirk flickers as you lose focus imaging what his grip would feel like on you.

“Done,” you said, flicking your used gloves into the wastebasket by your feet. Mirio flexes his fingers. Healed. “Y’know, after all these visits,” You raise an eyebrow, “I think you owe me.”

Mirio looks up from his hands to tilt his head at you.

“Tell me how you really get these injuries,” you grab one of his hands loosely and run your thumb over the freshly regenerated skin.

He wasn’t expecting that.

Mirio gapes at you like a fish out of water, like you’re Thirteen and you’ve sucked all of the air out of the room. He pulls himself from your grip to rest his hands in his lap. He’s uncomfortable, uneasy now. He’s liked this place, liked you because questions weren’t asked that he had to give real answers to. It’s not betrayal that Mirio feels, it’s more like loss. It’s the loss that comes with the realization that you can’t outrun everything you want forever. With all the training, all the work Mirio had put in, he thought he could.

“They’re self-inflicted. The bruising, the wound placements. It’s like you’re training yourself to death.”

“It’s not like that - I’m fine, I promise!” Mirio throws his hands up in a defensive motion. He’s summoning the sunlight, the optimism and charm that swooned UA and motivated him to keep working, keep training, to save a million people. He can feel it churning in his chest, but it’s been pressed so deep he’s grasping at the edges and they don’t want to meet his fingertips.

Mirio knew you never believed his excuses - you knew he knew that and you’d been pulled thin between wanting to show concern and ask what was up and respecting his privacy. But at the previous state of his knuckles, you couldn’t drag your feet any longer.

You watch him, face soft and stoic. You’re not coddling, but you’re not cold either. He realizes that you’re just simply waiting.

“I just train too hard,” he gives in, just a little. You raise your eyebrows a fraction and he continues. “I have a lot to make up for, so I tend to overdo it!” He laughs it off - the injuries are a joke, truly. They’re funny to him.

“You get more banged up than Midoriya,” you look at him over the clear frame of the glasses you seem to only wear at the clinic. “How does your training get you more banged up than the other heroes?”

“I’m not a hero,” he’s quick to say, and it stings more than it should. He was, should’ve been, should be.

Your face is soft again, and it’s an art you’ve mastered over time. You’re good at composing your features to appear passive and static. In your many hero encounters, pity is the quickest way to lose trust. So you watch Mirio, with his soft smile and now long hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He’s analyzing you just as you are him, and you keep your eyes from flicking to his knuckles when you respond with, “Okay.”

His stomach is churning, still sour with his words but he rubs his hands on his thighs. Why are they so sweaty?

In his distracted state, Mirio doesn’t notice you scribbling down something on a notecard shaped like an anatomical heart. You hand it to him, knocking him out of his trance.

Seven digits, followed by the letters 3G, and four more digits.

“What’s this?” he asks. Obviously the first line is your number, but you lost him with the rest.

“My number,” you aren’t looking at him. Instead you choose to refold the sleeves of your white coat as you continue, “and the passcode to get into my dorm building.”

Mirio does white. The passcode? Why would he need that?”

“I can’t be staying here late every night in case you show up.” You hated trudging back to your dorm on the nights he didn’t show, both eyelids and textbooks weighing you down. “Just stop by my dorm if it’s late like this.”

Mirio opens his mouth but you cut him off.

“Floor 5F, my name is on the door.”

He closes his mouth and smiles, nodding and bowing in thanks. He doesn’t trust his voice, not right now. You’re packing up your textbooks as he exits the clinic.

It doesn’t hit him until he gets back to the 3A dorms that he doesn’t know your name.

He beats himself up about it the whole night. He wishes he could go into Tamaki’s room to distract himself, to ask him about the person who’s basically taken over Recovery Girl’s mantle. Tamaki frequented the clinic as well - used it as an excuse to get out of the heroics lessons and sleep. He’d definitely know your name, unlike his golden counterpart who visited her frequently and never thought to ask.

Mirio tried to comfort himself by thinking that maybe you didn’t know his name either. You’d never asked. But then again, Mirio is (was?) part of UA’s Big Three. The aftermath of the Shie Hassaikai was all anyone talked about for weeks. You’d definitely have to know who he was. Mirio Togata, the kid who lost his quirk. Le Million, the hero who gave and lost everything. You went to UA yourself - there was no way.

He didn’t want to be that sob story to you. But he was constantly coming to you with injuries - split knuckles, a dislocated shoulder, a torn achilles. Maybe he wasn’t exactly that sob story, but he knew you pitied him regardless. Maybe that’s why you always stayed so late - you felt bad for him.

The thoughts makes Mirio uncomfortable.

And so much so that to make himself feel better, he adds your number to his phone. Typing in the numbers, he thinks about how he likes that your handwriting was shitty. Another little thing you let him see, let him learn about you. In lieu of a name, he makes your contact name the stethoscope emoji. He laughs to himself when he saves the contact and types out a message:

How late is too late?

He hesitates, but hits send. It delivers, and after fifteen minutes, Mirio is worried he confused one of your twos for a seven or vice versa. Or, maybe he should’ve introduced himself instead of just sending you a basic question that revealed his identity in no way whatsoever. In the eighteenth minute, you buzz back a response.

🩺

Why?

Might break a bone tomorrow.

It only takes eleven minutes for you to respond this time, and Mirio hates that he’s counting.

🩺

I’ll be sure to eat breakfast then.

No later than midnight, tho.

Okay!

Seven minutes this time. He wasn’t expecting a response.

🩺

You don’t need an injury to stop by, you know.

Mirio grins. A real one.

If you insist. Still might have a scratch or two, though. 😀

Two minutes. Mirio is oblivious to the fact that you are cringing hard at his emoji usage.

🩺

don’t be taking advantage of my quirk :(

You’re right… promise you will be compensated for your time. 👍

It’s immediate.

If it’s not edible, I don’t want it.

Mirio decides he might take it a little easy when he trains tomorrow.

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nitannichionne · 3 years

Text

If He Was Your Fan, Chapter 56: A Perfect Day, Henry POV (A Henry Cavill Fan Fic)

Chapter 56: A Perfect Day (Henry POV)

I open my eyes.

Were we so tired last night? We both fell asleep in each other’s arms, which was nice, but we just fell out. I didn’t think we were that tired but this was the first time we’d really relaxed in some time. There was nothing scheduled in the near future. There were no deadlines. The relief must have taken us down.

My ears hear food cooking and I inhale deeply. I smell steak….steak and eggs! With…uh…biscuits..and coffee? YES!

“Babe?” I call out to her, a question in my voice.

“Hey, hon, it’s ready!”

I roll out of bed and am greeted by Kal, who is being his puppy version of adorable.

“Alright, ol’ boy, you’ll get scraps,” I whisper down to him as he weighs my feet down. He pops up like a daisy and I head to the dining area just as she is coming out of the kitchen. “She’s corrupted you.”

“What?” she asks with a raise of an eyebrow. “Who’s corrupted who?”

“Ah, nothing,” I shrug, seeing breakfast.

“Oh, because I thought you might be talking about how Luna gets smoked salmon for no reason,” she teases. “she’s definitely corrupted you, babe.”

“Wow, love, this is…great,” I smile down at it as she brings juice, coffee and water. “Where’s yours?”

“I’ll get it.”

“I’ll wait.”

Her eyes widen and she goes and gets her plate as well…after cooking her eggs. I was not going to sit and eat without her after she cooked everything. This was something I was going to keep in mind always. She wasn’t a waitress or cook, she was my…going to be…someday would be…had to be…

“Henry?”

“Huh?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “yeah, just…” She sits down next to me, frowning and watching me. “waiting on you, babe.” I look down. “Hold it!”

“What?”

“That is not what is on my plate.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I want some of that!”

“Oh, you just want it because—”

“You have it? You bet!”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head and nodding. “Okay, then but you need to share.”

“Deal.”

After we shared our breakfasts, we packed backpacks and drove to Balmoral Estate. As soon as we got out of the truck, she gasped.

“Oh, my God,” she whispers. “is that a—”

“Pyramid?” I finish. “Yes.” I got out of the car and pulled our bags.

“We’re going to hike here?” she asks, eyes wide.

“This is Balmoral Castle—” I pointed off in the distance. “and Estate. There are cairns, pyramid like monuments, all over the property, but Queen Victoria had a pyramid build memory of her husband Prince Albert over a hundred and fifty years ago. Come on.”

I was a bit surprised to find people on the trail, but it is an outdoor activity. We saw many people on the way, and as usual, selfies here and there. The good thing is that the estate is so big, we really can’t be located. It was a bit of a hike, and we shared snacks of cheese and fruit and water on the way, but we made it.

youtube

“This is so…wow.”

“Queen Victoria loved her husband Prince Albert very much, and he became ill,” I told her. “He said as long as his family was well cared for, he could die the next day, but Victoria said if he died, it would kill her, and so he fought the illness to the end. She had this built and grieved for decades after.”

“She loved him like that, so much?” she whispers.

“Yes, he was a part of her, she couldn’t bear the idea of his leaving, even in something as unavoidable as death.” I swallowed hard, looking at her. Who would lightsaber duel with me? Who goes and does ‘her thing’ when I play Warcraft? When would I have ever found out what a blasted Dagwood is? “He died in his forties, relatively young. We saw some of their cairns, or memorials, on the way here.”

“I thought cairns were dogs.”

I chuckled at that. “The breed was known for chasing small quarry between the cairns, they were small and mobile enough to manuver.” I put my arm around her. “Cairn terriers.”

“Oh.”

We walk back to the car together, and we are tiring. Times like these I wish we could go to a restaurant, but I wasn’t ready to risk it.

We managed to get back to the car with minimum fuss and drove back to the cabin.

We decided on pizza. I took care of the crust and she got the ingredients and sauce together. Thin crust meant less time, so I that’s what we did. We ate the first pizza pretty quickly, but the second was a literal pie or stuffed pizza, taking a bit longer so we took Kal and Luna out.

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Night fell quickly and the Northern Lights were out for their show.

“God, people live here,” she breathes, her eyes wide. “people wake up and go to sleep to this.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, hugging her from behind. “Nice retirement, hmm?”

She smiles at the sky and turns in my arms. “Maybe.”

“We’ll raise cairns,” I said teasingly.

“Okay, you can practice Warcraft and be a professional gamer.”

“Who says I’m not that good now?”

“Are you?”

“Okay, okay, a little more practice,” I laugh and turn her so she could look at the sky again, rocking her side to side as if we were dancing. She laughs with me. “but the acting thing, I kinda like it.”

She belly laughs at that, leaning back against me. “Gee, ya think?” She sighs, “I would write my whole life if I could.”

“I get that feeling,” I look at her and kiss her temple, my arms around her, her hands in mine. I watch her lift her ring hand and move it, making the diamond glitter and sparkle under the night sky lights. “Wondering about the ring, are you?”

“A little,” she giggles a bit nervously, looking down at it. “Is it really that old?”

“Yes,” I reply. “Many years ago one of my ancestors was a merchant. He loved someone very much, and she was afraid he would not come home to her, especially since she was a commoner. He had this ring made to let her know that she was his North Star, and no matter where he sailed or ventured, she would always be his way home.” I was nervous. I reach into my pocket, and pull out my family crest, no bigger than the size of a small button. I took her hand, and opened the locket ring. “This fits in here.” I put it in gingerly. “If there is ever any doubt of who loves and protect you, you only need open it.” I close it back turn her to me. She looks up at me as I hold her hand in mine, seemingly speechless.

“Thank you,” she breathes.

“Every knight usually has a lady,” I joke softly, still holding her hand with mine and tilting her chin up with the other. I bend down and brush my lips over hers. “Right?” She nods yes, and I pull her to me for a deeper kiss. She melted against me and we both sighed, tasting each slowly, no rush, the world was moving slower for the moment and so could we.

Suddenly her watch went off.

“Pizza?”

“Yeah,” she exhales. We walk back inside, and the house is filled with the aroma. Even Kal and Luna are sniffing around the kitchen door. I follow her in, and she pulls out a huge pizza pie.

“That’s for today and tomorrow, isn’t it?” I asked with a small laugh.

“Definitely, but we can have salad to go with it,” she says, carefully placing it on the counter. “Needs to cool.”

“Okay—” I pick her up and carry her to the bed. She wraps her arms around my neck and curls closer. I lay her down and crawl between her legs, kissing her as I make my way up. Just as my hips align, and my lips meet hers, she curls her limbs around me and reverses our positions.

“Pinned ya,” she whispers.

I chuckle at that and try to sit up, but she grabs my hands and puts them over my head.

“Pinned ya again,” she rubs my nose with hers.

@mistress-of-ward @nuggsmum @messyinsomnimaniac @jencanbeyouryengeralt @sweetdreamsofgelato @mary-ann84 @omgkatinka @the-soot-sprite @viking-raider @keanureevesisbae @henryobsessed @summersong69 @sunshine96love @michelehansel @thelastsock @tumblnewby @tenaciousneckpartypainter @rn7rocks @daydreamin83 @ruthoakenshield @musicartmayheminmyheart @kaatelyynn-blog-blog@forallthebrokenheartedthings @alphacancrii @liquorlaughslove @designerwriterchic @tamychm @nikkilynn303 @circesgirl1 @xoxohannahlee @pixie88@fckdeusername @maan24 @kaatelyyynn @october505 @absentmindr @introvertedmouse @sassy-pelican @griscka75

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dcnatural · 4 years

Text

Soaking Wet

Word Count: 2189

Pairing: John Constantine x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Synopsis: During a storm in London, you find cover in your ex-boyfriend’s apartment.

There were many things you loved about London, but the weather was definitely not one of them. There had been no sign of rain when you left your hotel room for an evening stroll, the sun shone brightly on the clear sky. Then, almost by magic, the clouds turned gray, the wind began to hurl, and a heavy rain started pouring down.

Puddles of water splashed under your feet as you ran through the streets desperate to find shelter. The icy rain pricked your skin like projectiles, the strong winds blowing it at fast speeds. Strands of wet hair clung together in front of your face, blocking your vision and no matter how many times you tried to tuck them behind your ear, they fell off again.

Being mostly a residential area, there were no stores for you to seek shelter in and the open sidewalks offered no protection. By the time you finally found cover under the awning of a four-storey brick building, even your socks were drenched. Although the draped fabric prevented the water from falling directly above you, it did nothing to shield you from the gusts of wind and the droplets of rain it brought along.

You hugged your coat tightly around your body in an attempt to keep yourself warm. You hadn’t dressed for the weather, your clothes weren’t thick enough to act as an efficient barrier from the cold. Not even your cardigan seemed to do anything against the rapidly dropping temperature.

You considered walking into the building instead of simply hiding in front of it. The wooden door, however, was locked and without a key, you found yourself stuck where you were. Your battery had run out and, as such, you couldn’t even call yourself an Uber.

When you first heard his voice calling your name, you assumed that you had simply drifted off and were dreaming - no, if he was in it, then it must be a nightmare. But then he called again, each syllable coated heavily in his british accent, and you are pulled out of your musings.

Water beads clung to your eyelashes blurring your vision and you had to squint to see better, but there was no denying that it was actually him. His dirty blond hair was a disheveled mess on top of his head and his trademark trench coat flowed ever-so-gently behind him. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, which were slightly curled into a smirk.

“John Constantine,” you replied in a mist of distrust and awe. It had been so long since your mouth had last formed those words that your muscles seemed to fight against it, as if trying to remind you what had happened the last time you did so.

He took a drag of his cigarette and puffed out, encircling the two of you in a grayish smoke and you coughed. “That’s me, luv.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he stated, grabbing a pair of keys from his pockets and rattling them in front of you, the tiny metal pieces clinking against one another.

Your mouth opened in a silent “oh”. Of course that, out of all the apartment buildings in London, you would end up stranded underneath his. The wind picked up and a chilling breeze blew across you, causing you to shiver.

“How ‘bout you?” he continued, “Are you stalking me? ‘Cause it would have been easier if you just called.”

You roll your eyes at his insinuation. “Oh please, as if I’d want anything to do with you again. I was just walking and got lost. And then this damned storm started.” As if prompted by your words, a lightning struck the sky, followed closely by the deafening sound of a thunder and you jolted in surprise.

Constantine chuckled and you furrowed your brows. “It’s not funny!” you groaned. “It’s freezing out here and I’m soaking wet!”

He raised an eyebrow but before he could make a sound, you were at it again. “Don’t even start. You know what I meant.”

“I don’t think I do, luv. Why don’t you show me how wet you are?”

You couldn’t believe his audacity. Making jokes and flirting when the last time you spoke to him he had acted like a complete bastard. Not to mention that you were clearly in distress. “Fuck. Off.” you replied harshly, crossing your arms and turning away from him.

“I can’t leave you out here to freeze to death, it would weigh heavy on my conscience.”

“Since when do you have one?” you bickered.

“Do you wanna come inside or not?" he continued as if he hadn't heard your interruption. "I have some beers in the freezer and we could catch up while waiting for the storm to die out.”

You should’ve said no. But the cold was just too harsh and you could feel your toes going numb. Letting out a small sigh, you nodded.

"Fine. But that doesn't mean I forgive you or anything like that."

"Noted," he said, his smile widening a bit. You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying something nasty about him. There was a huge list of unflattering adjectives you could call him, all of which would be true.

He unlocked the entrance and you rushed inside, immediately feeling better now that you were out of the wind's reach. John tried to make small talk as the two of you climbed the stairs up to his floor but you ignored his questions, dismissing most of them with a nod or a wave of hand.

His apartment wasn't the mess you expected. The small living room was tidy, there were no dishes on the kitchen sink and the floor wasn't littered with cigarette butts. It even smelled nice: lavender and blueberries, reminiscing of a warm summer day in the countryside.

You removed your muddy shoes and went inside. He turned on the heater and went to get the promised beers from the fridge. You sat on the carpet in front of the radiator and enjoyed the warmth. Constantine handed you an open bottle and you took it, shallowing half of it in one go, not minding the bitter taste.

Despite the heat, you were still pretty much chilled to the bone, your damp clothes preventing you from fully warming up. You coughed and shifted uncomfortably, hoping he didn’t notice your discomfort. Nor the increasingly damp patch that was forming underneath you in the carpet.

"You should take off your clothes", John suggested casually as he studied you.

You almost choked on your drink. "Excuse me?"

"You are dripping everywhere", he took the now empty bottle from your hand, "and they say that you should never stay in wet clothes when trying to warm up. Do you wanna take a warm shower? I can lend you something to wear."

You squinted. You simply weren’t used to him being this… kind? Prestative? You didn’t even know what to call it. And once more, instead of declining his offer like any sane human being, you said yes.

He led you down the hallway to his bedroom, with its walls covered in posters of classic punk rock bands and sorcery books scattered around the floor, and to the annexed bathroom.

“I’ll leave a change of clothes on the bed for you,” he said before closing the bathroom door.

You locked the door, checking twice to ensure it couldn’t be open, and waited until you heard him move to the hallway before undressing. The shower was hot and you welcomed the scalding water, letting it run down your body and wash the cold away. You tried not to think of how his soap smelled like him - citric and earthy; as long as you had known John, he had always used the exact same brand of soap - and how you would smell like him afterwards.

Despite that, you couldn’t deny that it was pleasant to have a shower, and when you were done, you already felt better. Careful to keep your back to the door, just in case his intentions were less chivalrous than he was letting out, you picked the white button-up shirt he had separated for you and got dressed. It was clearly an old, worn-out piece and you could see the markings of cigarette burns and of the places where the fabric had been thorn in combat and had been sewn back together. The garment was too big for your lithe frame, the hem hung just above your knees and the sleeves covered completely your hands, forcing you to roll them up in order to use your hands. He had left a pair of black pants but, given your lack of underwear, you chose not to put them on, the shirt did more than enough to cover your private parts. You pulled your hair in a loose bun to get the wet strands out of your neck and, after a quick glance at the mirror to ensure you were decent, walked back to the living room.

Constantine was slouched on the couch, watching television with a bottle of whiskey in hand. He smiled as you crossed the doorway and his gaze drifted over your body, lingering just a second too long on your cleavage and making you blush. He scooted to the end of the couch and patted the empty space besides him and, seeing no harm in it, you slumped against the cushions.

“Feeling better?”, he asked, passing the bottle to you, which you gladly took.

“I hate to say it, but you were right, everything feels better after a shower.”

On the screen, a man jumped from a helicopter while bombs exploded in the background, and despite not having seen the beginning of the movie, and although you weren’t exactly paying attention, you soon got the hang of the plot. Indeed, John’s presence on your side was quite disconcerting, and throughout the movie, as the bottle emptied out, you found yourself inching closer and closer to him, until your legs were touching.

As the action came to a climax and the hero saved his beloved, you felt Constantine’s hand sliding over your leg, fingers drawing little circles on your skin that sent goosebumps to your core.

“John,” you mumbled, leaning into his touch and sighing as he ventured further upward and his calloused fingers grazed your inner thigh.

“That’s right, luv, say my name,” his words were soft as he whispered them into your ear.

You shook your head. “No, we can’t.” You tried to shove him off, but didn’t put any real strength in it. You knew it was wrong, but his touch was just so good, and it felt so right.

Ignoring your plea, his free hand began to open the buttons of the shirt to expose your breasts. “Can’t or won’t ?”

You lost any ability to form cohesive sentences when his lips closed around your peaked nipple, nibbling at the raised nub. His tongue swirled over your breast and you found yourself gripping tightly at his dirty blond hair to keep him from pulling away.

While he continued to place kisses on your chest, his other hand slipped between your thighs, fingers dangerously close to your already dripping folds. He teased you, scraping his nails where he knew your skin to be the most sensitive until you were squirming under him, basically begging him to give you the relief you craved.

He detached his mouth from your body with an audible pop. “Tell me, still think we can’t?”

You rolled your eyes. “You win. Just-” Your sentence was cut short as he abruptly kissed you and, wrapping an arm around your waist, picked you up from the couch and carried your body to the bedroom.

You giggled as he laid you onto the bed, legs wide open and back propped up against pillows. His eyes were locked with yours as he spread your lower lips apart and dragged his tongue lazily over your entrance. Your hips jerked forward when he made contact with your clit and you moaned as he began to flick his tongue against it. He knew how to get you all worked up, kissing, biting and sucking on the right places to send your mind into heaven. Or perhaps hell.

Praises and profanities rolled out of your tongue as the pleasure built inside of you. Your nails scratched his shoulders leaving red trails of blood behind, urging him to continue. Dark spots formed on your vision as you reached your peak, back arching over the mattress and a lewd scream leaving your mouth.

He laid on your side, a wide grin plastered on his face. “It’s still storming outside, perhaps it would be better for you to spend the night. Just to be safe, you know,” he added with a mischievous wink.

“Shut up,” you replied, leaning over to kiss him, the taste of you still on his lips. “Just tonight. And only because it is freezing out there.”

He nodded half-heartedly and draped an arm around you, pulling you against him. “Sure. Someone has got to keep you warm.”

#John Constantine #constantine imagine #constantine x reader #john constantine x you #john constantine x reader #legends of tomorrow imagine #reader #Smut #dc #dc imagine

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

1. Siren Indruck NSFW, Duck is hauling supplies for the small town of Kepler on a tiny boat. Due to dangerous storms, Duck takes a longer but safer and less traversed route. He doesn’t know he’ll be passing through a Siren’s territory. A siren who is looking for a strong and sturdy mate

Here you go!

Duck never tells anyone what he finds on the beach that day.

He’s fourteen, looking for useful flotsam and jetsam tossed onto the sand by an ongoing storm. What he finds is an empty boat and a merman, silvery tail impaled with a spear in a piece of driftwood. Each time he tries to free himself, he winces and is unable to pull the weapon from his body. When he sees Duck, his red eyes widen and he bares sharp teeth in a hiss.

“It’s okay” the boy kneels in the bloody sand, “I ain’t gonna hurt you. Or, uh, this’ll hurt for a sec, but it’ll be better than tryin to ease it out bit by bit.” He grabs the end of the fishing spear and pulls. The merman shrieks, quickly clamping his hands across his mouth as Duck pulls his handkerchief from his pocket to bandage the wound.

“There, you should be able to-”

The creature is gone with a whip of his tail, sliding down the sand and into the waves. As Duck stands, a strange song floats from the foam for the briefest instant. A seasoned sailor can tell a siren from a normal mer on sight; Duck has never been to sea. It’s weeks later that he wonders what events resulted in the wounded siren and an empty boat.

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

Any other day, Duck would put off this run until the black clouds no longer hung over the horizon. But the supply run last week didn’t come, so the isolated, coastal town of Kepler is running low on, among other things, the medicine needed to treat an illness spreading from house to house. He could put this off until tomorrow, but he won’t sleep well tonight if he does.

The boat loaded, he starts out to sea under unfriendly skies. Today is a day to follow the coastline and then circle Greenbriar Island to reach Kepler, rather than trying for a straight shot. It’ll double his travel time, but it’s far safer in a storm and no one but a few locals know how to navigate it. Duck takes this route once or twice most years. This summer alone he’s had to take it six times, with today making a seventh. The abnormal number of storms weighs on the minds of coastal residents. Duck tries not to obsess over it, given that it’s solidly out of his control and there’s no use fussing over wind and rain; there’s only getting through them.

Halfway through his journey, a rogue swell catches the underside of the boat and drags it along a rock, springing a leak in the hull. He ties off on a thin spire of stone, clambering onto a rock to try and repair the damage. It’s not a big leak, but it’ll be trouble if he lets it go.

As he’s laying awkwardly with water lapping up his legs, a human head rises from the water a few feet from him. Silver hair, red eyes and, when it smiles, very sharp teeth. Harmless mermaids have teeth much like his own, which means he’s alone in the ocean with a fucking siren.

Duck’s learned many things since that day on the beach; how a song can paralyze a man better than poison, how the bite marks on the skin of certain bodies that wash ashore are called siren kisses

The siren begins swimming closer. Duck sighs, “If you’re gonna drown and eat me, can you do it on the way back?”

Red eyes blink, confused, but the siren stays where he is.

“If I don’t make it to Kepler, lotta folks’ll get sick, some will even die. And I don’t think you got much use for medicine and canned food.”

The siren shakes his head.

“Glad you understand.” Duck finishes his repairs under watchful eyes. At one point, the siren swims all the way to the rock Duck is perched on, resting his chin on his hands, as if enjoying the view.

Duck scrambles back into the boat the moment he’s done, but no cold fingers try for his ankles and no splash announces something lunging upwards after him. A cautious glance as he starts the engine finds the siren sitting on the rock, silver-blue tail still half in the water. When he notices Duck looking, he waves.

The rest of the journey goes as planned, the relief on folks faces when Duck docks worth the peril. When he reaches the siren’s territory on his return, no song tempts him. A lithe shape keeps pace with the boat, fin breaking the surface now and then. When he hits open water, the siren turns back, disappearing from view.

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

There are sex dreams, and then there’s whatever the fuck Duck is having right now. Fingers stroke his hair, cling to his shoulders. Kisses coat his face and a voice whispers his name as the speaker offers themself to him again and again. He sees himself tangled with a man, face always just out of focus, who spreads his legs and lips so Duck can sink himself into the heat of his body. The dream is endless and he doesn’t care, doesn’t ever want to wake up.

Saltwater in his lungs renders that desire useless. He snaps back to consciousness as another wave hits him; he’s up to his neck in the cove below his house.

“The fuck?” It’s only his footprints visible in the moonlight in the sand, so no one dumped him here.

“Oh dear.”

“Jesus!” Duck stumbles back as glowing eyes peer around a rock. It’s the siren from yesterday, swimming purposefully as Duck wades backwards.

“Look, uh, when I said I wanted you to wait to eat me, I wasn’t bein serious. Or, uh, I was, but I meant I didn’t want to be eaten ever, not just then. It was a, uh, a joke.”

“I am aware.” The siren stops as Duck topples on his ass in the shallow water, “and I am sorry. I, ah, I did not mean to lure you from your bed. I was not aware my mindless singing was enough to wake you. In most futures, you slept until dawn.”

“Uh huh, sure, because sirens are known to just serenade folks without wanting to drown ‘em.”

“We do it more often than you might think.” The siren sighs, “I came here to keep you safe, and succeeded only in making you afraid.”

Duck, having scooted inelegantly onto dry land, watches the tan upper body of the siren sag. It’s awkward, a word not associated with this kind of mer. That suggests he’s telling the truth.

“You gonna tell me why you’re playin watchdog at my house?”

The siren chirps, intrigued, “In all but one future you told me to go away.”

“That’d just leave me with more questions. And so far, you ain’t done anythin other’n watch me; if you say this was an accident, I’m willin to hear you out.”

“Wonderful!” The siren claps his hands together and the tip of his tail flips out of the water. Then he clears his throat and recites, “I am known as Indrid Cold. As you noticed, I am a siren. I am also a gifted seer, artist, and lifeguard when humans are unconscious and thus will not try to kill me for rescuing them. I am an excellent fisher, and well-liked and/or feared by the larger creatures of this coastline. This is why I think I would be an excellent mate.”

“O-kay. Did you call me out here to practice your personals ad?” Duck smirks, charmed by Indrids earnest tone.

“This is not practice. I did a great deal of that earlier today. This is my formal declaration that I would very much like you to be my mate.”

“Ma--hold on.” The images from his near-fatal dream return, “were you singin’ to hit on me?”

Indrid crosses his arms, “For the last time, that song was not for you. It was about you, because I was daydreaming and my formless melody unintentionally conveyed the contents of said daydream into your mind.”

“So everythin in it, all that wild fuckin stuff, that’s stuff you wanna do with me?”

A nod, accompanied by a flash of white light under the water.

“Why?”

“Because you are strong, and handsome, and capable on the water. I watched your futures yesterday and today and saw you are kind as well, well-liked by other humans but a little lonely at night. You are very nice to that small land-otter that lives in your house.”

“You mean the cat?”

“That’s the word! Yes, you are nice to your cat. You are not brash or cruel, and you look so very nice without a shirt. I...I like you, Duck. You are everything I want in a mate.”

“Feel like I might be missin’ some gills and fins.” He jokes to cover the fact he’s scanning his mind and body for the same dreamy lull he felt during the song. What he finds in it’s place is his ego purring from praise and wondering exactly what a siren would do for his mate.

“There is no rule that says I must choose only my own kind for such activities. I, ah, I know it is strange, given how little we know of each other, but I thought that, ah, since humans will have casual sex with each other maybe we could, or, ah, that is…” He’s watching Duck with such unconcealed hope that the human almost joins him in the water.

“Indrid, I’m real flattered. But I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t point out this feels like a fuckin trap. Pretty easy for you to drag me to my death once we’re, uh, in the middle of things. Not that I’m sayin you would.” He adds when the sirens smile dims.

“A sensible concern. May I join you on land for a moment? There is something I want to show you.”

Duck pats the sand beside him, eyes following the ripples of Indrid’s tail as he swims, slithers, and slides onto the beach. It reminds Duck of an oarfish, though when Indrid spies him looking the scales flash deep purple.

“Look there” Indrid points toward the end of the silver ribbon of scales; a round, white scar stares up at Duck. The details of a day over two decades in the past return to him.

“You’re the siren I found when I was a kid.”

“Indeed. I remember you by your eyes, though your face has some echoes of that day in it’s curves. You saved my life, showed me mercy when I expected none. Sirens do not forget a favor, and we do not kill those who once spared us. I will never harm you, even if you turn me away tonight. You will be safe, whether that is in my arms or merely in my territory.”

Duck avoids the stranger sides of life by the sea, citing a lifelong incompatibility with the weird. Turns out all he needed to find his exception to that rule is a handsome siren looking at him like he set the tides in motion.

The human runs a finger up the sirens tail, sparks of purple and pale blue light igniting in it’s wake.

“Didn’t know y’all changed colors.” He pets Indrid’s hip and the whole tail lights up this time.

“I am a deep-sea siren by birth, we use light to communicate emotions.”

“Mind, uh, loopin me in on the conversation?”

“Purple means desire. It’s a common color in mating displays.” Indrid watches Duck’s hand glide along his scales, and a burst of pale blue reflects across their faces.

“And that one?”

“Submission.” Indrid murmurs, “it is, ah, not the most desirable color to show. My kind value strength and power; enjoying the opposite is an invitation to mockery.” The siren’s eyes stay downcast, even when Duck smooths silver hair from his face.

“Now, I like to joke as much as the next fella, but that don’t seem like somethin to tease about.”

“No?” Indrid’s gaze flicks onto Duck the instant before the man straddles him. Duck doesn’t even have to push him onto his back; he goes instantly, hands flat on the sand and tail twitching excitedly in the shallows.

“No. Seems to me a sweet thing like you oughta be takin care of.”

Indrid snickers, “That is not usually an adjective one uses for meAHahnn” he arches as Duck tugs his hair.

“Let’s get one thing straight, sugar; I decide what you get called. I wanna call you the most perfect creature in the sea, I will. And if I wanna call you a needy little mer who’s good for nothin but gettin fucked into the sand, you’re gonna nod and say ‘yes.’ Understood?”

The blue light flashing up his tail brightens, “Y-yes but, but why do you call me sugar? That is a food.”

Duck giggles, leans down to brush their noses together, “It’s a nickname, call you it because you’re sweet and I can’t wait to get my fill of you.”

“Ohhhh, I see.”

“You wanna see somethin else?”

“Very much soOH, oh goodness.” Indrid gasps as Duck forces his gaze towards his cock attempting to free itself from his boxers. He grinds on the supple muscle of his tail to take the pressure off, chuckles when the siren whines and tries to kiss his chest.

“Since you’re the only siren I’d ever even consider fuckin-” Duck pauses as Indrid moans loudly, digging his fingers into the sand, “you gotta show me how to go about it.”

“If, if you just continue as you are a little higher upyes, yes right there” He rolls his hips, purrs with such a blissful expression that Duck is powerless to do anything but kiss him. His affection grows when he notices Indrid clearly restraining his kisses so as not to catch Duck’s mouth or tongue with his sharp teeth. The last guy he fucked shoved his tongue down his throat without any build-up or finesse, and now all he can think is if only Indrid had made his feelings know sooner, Duck could have done away with shitty human dates and had an obedient, eager mer instead.

“Mmmmm” Indrid licks his lips, runs his fingers up Duck’s sides, “kissing is nice. It is not something sirens often indulge in, so my chances to do it are few and far between.”

“Ain’t that a shame” Duck kisses the corners of his mouth, “lips like these were made to be kissed sore.”

Indrid purrs, wiggling his tail, and Duck looks down to see a slit opening where his clothed cock has been rubbing.

“Huh. Kinda figured you had-”

“-I have both this and an appendage below it much like your own.”

“Handy.” Duck, in no mood to climb off the purring, otherworldly man, eases the waistband of his damp boxers just under his balls.

“This, uh, this ain’t gonna actually create a, I mean, I don’t wanna accidentally-”

“Nono, there is no chance of procreation”

“And you’ll be okay with so little of you in the water?”

“Yesyes I will be fine.” Indrid tugs at his hips, bucks his own into the air in frustration.

“Just checkin’ oh, oh fuck” Indrid is tight and ridged around his dick as it slides in, “fuckin christ, no wonder sailors’ll crash into rocks at the offerin of fuckin a siren, wait, fuck, that was probably rude.”

“I will let it slide” Indrid teases, the end of his tail curling around Duck’s left ankle, “on account of your body is so lovely I would beach myself and die gasping on your doorstep for a chance to touch it.”

“No need for that. All you gotta do is wait here like a good little mer and I’ll fuck you as much as you want.” The slit pulses as Duck slowly fucks in and out, and he knows he’ll have to throw out all his fleshlights after this because nothing will ever compare to the deliciously alien feeling of Indrid around his dick.

“Do, do not joke about such things.” Indrid whimpers, clinging to his shoulders.

“I ain’t. You wanted a mate, right?”

“Yes, you, so very badly.”

“Well, you got one, and you feel so goddamn good on my cock I ain’t inclined to let you swim off and be someone else’s.”

“I do not want to, I only want you, please, please let me stay.”

Duck stills his hims and the siren writhes as he leans down. The human cups his cheek, “I want you to stay, ‘Drid. I wanna get to know you. Long as you promise you ain’t gonna fuck me unless you want to, and not because you’re scared I’ll turn you loose.”

“I promise.” Indrid initiates the kiss this time, purring when Duck takes his time kissing back.

“Good. Now that we got that cleared up” Duck sits up, “be a good mate and take what I give you.” He fucks in as hard as he dares, dives back down to kiss Indrid’s lips and throat as the mer’s cock emerges. Duck finds he can grind his ass along the twisting shaft at the same time he drives his own into Indrid’s body, resulting in a wail of pleasure and teeth sinking into his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

“Sorry!” Indrid squeaks, hiding his face in Duck’s neck, “it, it is a reflex-”

Duck yanks his head back to his shoulder, near the first mark, and holds it down, “Do it again.”

Indrid trills and pain lights up Duck’s body, the perfect counterpoint to the pleasure coursing through him with each roll of their bodies. The siren chirps and moans, nips his arms and ears, slides his tail along his legs as his cock pumps frantically against his ass.

“That’s it sweet thing, cum for me while I fuck you. Show me just what my mate is for.” Duck bites Indrid’s neck and cum splatters the backs of his thighs as Indrid’s repetitions of his name drown out the noise of the waves. Duck’s orgasm follows fast, sweeps through him like the crescendo of a song carried on the night air.

Duck stays buried in him well after he’s finished, mind already conjuring images of tying Indrid down in shallow water and keeping his cock warm all day.

“Duck?”

“Yeah, sugar?”

“I, ah, I need to get back in the water.”

“Oh shit, yeah, sure.” He pulls out, tosses his sea-soaked boxers up the beach as Indrid slides into the sea. Duck wades in, stopping where it’s waist deep as the siren swims lazily circles around him.

“Such a perfect mate.”

“Glad you still think so.”

Indrid curls up to him, rubbing their cheeks together, “Thank you for indulging me. Do...do you wish me to come back tomorrow? Or to stay tonight? There are no other mers between here and my territory, so there is no reason I cannot count this stretch as mine.”

Duck kisses one of the hickeys blooming on tan skin, “How’s about you stay the night. We got some things to talk about. And, if you’re real good, I might let you fuck me when we’re done.”

Indrid grins, “My dearest one, I believe we have a deal.”

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

Nowadays, if you ever go near Kepler and the surrounding islands, you may hear people talk about Duck Newton, beloved native son, skilled park ranger, and the only man receive siren kisses and live to tell the tale.

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermaid au #siren au #monster march #monster boyfriend

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blackberry-gingham · 4 years

Note

This was kinda inspired by the previous anons request but could you write headcannons/imagines (whichever you think fits best) about being an actress and meeting their lad on the set of one of their movies/a movie

(Ok ik I have other requests waiting looong behind this one, but it's going to bug me if I don't do this first, so I'll post my next chronological request tomorrow instead of my usual every other dayish schedule! Thanks guys ❤️)

Honestly, the absolute MOOD™ of this gif has been on my mind for like all of the following imagines. Like the on periodt FLAVOR that actress is rocking, all done up and everything ?? John or [insert one of the other three] ob-sessed with you ?? Literally yes. So yeah, there's my overview lol, the rest is up to your imagination!

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! 😌

George

You meet George on your way to grab a little refreshment before your scene in between takes

You've got a nice little flute of wine, to calm the nerves of course, when suddenly you get bumped rather harshly from behind!

Luckily your drink spilled on the floor and not your nice costume, but still, you're about to give whomever it is a piece of your mind!!

You turn on a dime and come face to face with... Oh

There, only inches away, stands the George Harrison, with a mouthful of food, a wrapped up snack for later, and eyes wide as saucers

It's a race to see who can apologise first

While you over come your shock at nearly cursing out one of the stars of the show, he hurriedly chews and swallows the last of his snack

"I'm so sor-" "-eg your pardon!"

You overlap each other with your apologies, causing a similar scenario again as you both accept the other's apology

The two of you chuckle a bit at that

At this point, George feels like he's just now getting a good look at you

He wonders if you're a recent hire, bc otherwise he certainly would've noticed the most beautiful woman in the building before now

Suddenly a touch self conscious, he wipes the crumbs from the corners of his mouth and scrambles for a way to make small talk

It's not really his forte, you see

Luckily, you come in to save him

You cock your head to look at his napkin of snacks

"What have you got there?"

"Oh these? N-nothing, just some scones or something like that"

He crosses his arms behind his back, like he's embarrassed to be caught smuggling snacks

"Oh! Have you tried the cream cheese and raspberry ones? They're to die for!"

George loosens up a bit. He wouldn't have guessed you were something of a food fan too...

He brings around his napkin of goodies and unwraps it a bit for you to see

"I have actually, would you like one?"

You thank him and take one, savouring the flavor while he pops another into his mouth as well

"See, quite good! Although, I'd dare say mine are better"

You laugh, but George simply stares

"You bake?" He says through a mouthful of scone, eyes alight

Of course you confirm that you do indeed, and your cooking is fantastic too, thank you very much!

The two of you talk about some of your favorite treats to make and from there... Well, George is pretty sure he's met his soul mate

John

Now when you meet John, I think you approach him!

He's backstage taking a smoke

You'd think he's just having a quick break to relax before filming starts, but the way he's looking around, shifting his weight, and fiddling with his outfit says it all

Classic stage fright

You remember those days, but as a seasoned, successful actress, you've learned a few tips and tricks you think might help!

For one thing, getting to know more then just your co-stars is a bit of a relief

Plus, I mean... It's John Lennon! And have I mentioned you're a bit of a fan?

So you approach, completely unfazed, and poor old Lennon does a double take

Out of gentlemanly habit, he immediately puts out his dart when he sees you coming

You come right up and introduce yourself with a "how do you do"

Now at this point, normally he'd respond with a witty but dirty pick up line, but...

He can't tell if he's just not in the mood from his nerves or what, but he just can't bring himself to do it

Or maybe... Maybe there's just something about you?

It's not every day such a fetching woman approaches him without screaming her head off and begging for an autograph in the process

Besides, there's just this air of confidence about you that puts him at ease

You make it look so effortless too!

He wishes he could be like that...

John nods respectfully with a quiet "just fine thanks"

He doesn't bother to introduce himself, he simply assumes everyone here knows who he is

You tilt your head and smile invitingly

"Are you sure? Excuse me for saying so, but you seem a bit nervous"

Well, regarding the filming coming up, he was a bit, but standing here, talking with you?

He certainly is now!

"It's fine, just thinking about my lines and such"

You can tell he's lying, but you let the matter go to switch up tactics

"Well I'm sure you'll be just fine out ther- Oh? Hold on..."

You casually saunter up to him as though you've known him for years to straighten his tie and smooth down his lapels

Despite your boldness, John puts up no resistance. In fact, he finds he rather enjoys your touch

He's so use to a more... different sort of touch when it comes to women, to the point that he's nearly forgotten just how fulfilling soft and gentle contact like this can be

Forgetting himself, John leans into your palms a bit as you finish petting them across the chest of his suit

You definitely notice, but decide to have mercy and say nothing about it

"Just remember, if you need a little stage advice out there, I'll be around"

You wink at him and walk off to your dressing room

John waits a moment until your out of sight, weighing what just happened in his mind

You know what?

He smiles to himself and jogs after you

Maybe he does want some advice...

Paul

Now Paul I think is the one guy of the four to seek you out!

You're relaxing in your dressing room adding just a few small touch ups to your lipstick and so on until you're on

When the gentle knock comes to your door, you assume it's your assistant come to fetch you

You check the time and then hurry over to answer the door

"Yes yes, I-"

Paul is standing with his hands clasped behind his back, a respectful distance from your door

When he'd heard you were the leading lady of this film, he knew he simply had to see you in person

He's a bit of a fan himself you see, and he can tell you right now, the camera doesn't do you half justice

Paul's mouth forms a little "O" as he looks you up and down so quick, it's almost subtle

Not at all impressed, you look at him expectantly, but try to hold back any attitude

"Can I help you, Mr. McCartney?"

He snaps out of his daydream and at last looks at you with the respect you deserve

"Oh, my apologies love, I just wanted to greet my co-star!"

Paul gingerly takes your hand and kisses your knuckles

Alright, maybe you're a little impressed

"I've heard so much about you, I couldn't believe it when they told me you were going to be a part of our little film"

He laughs, and then clears his throat awkwardly

"Sorry, I guess I'm just something of a fan"

You're a bit taken aback to see Paul, the ladies man himself, McCartney acting flustered, but what a compliment for one of the Beatles to be a fan of you

Needless to say, you're nice about his being awkward and hang around for a little conversation

He tells you about all the movies he's seen you in and how wonderful a job he thought you did

You're really enjoying the moment, after all, what a rare one it is! Until your assistant comes to fetch you and Paul for filming

"Oh yes, we'll be right along!"

Paul calls after your assistant and more or less shoos them away

Once you two are alone again, Paul fidgets a moment fishing around in his pockets

"Now I know you get this a lot-"

He pulls out a newspaper article and a pen, then holds them out to you

Upon closer inspection, it's the headline from when you were recognized for your first acting award

"But could I please get your autograph?"

Then he leans in and whispers, "and please don't tell the lads..."

You laugh and assure him his secret is safe as you sign your name in flowing script before handing him his prize

Paul looks like a child in a candy shop, he's so excited

You smile sweetly and begin heading towards the filming site

Before you know it Paul trots up beside you, following close

He looks from you to his newspaper clipping once and then twice before his eyes linger on you

"You know, I have a record from one of your plays back at the hotel... Could you-?"

At first you shoot him a look, but the puppy eyes he's giving you assures you he means no funny business, so you promise him ❤️

Ringo

You meet Ringo backstage in between sets, right before your scene

And when I tell you the first time Ringo sees you, he immediately knows he would die for you...

!!! RINGO. IS. STAR STRUCK !!!

You're already gorgeous as is, so when his first time seeing you is all done up with your hair, outfit, and makeup for the movie he's just BLOWN AWAY

And as he should be 💅🏻

There's still a decent bit of time before he needs to take his place or anything like that, which is good bc his brain is in a whole other dimension rn

You're absolutely magnetic and all he can think to do is approach

"Oh, hello Mr. Starr! Can I help you?"

"hi"

You blink at him for a moment, not quite sure what's happening

But when it hits you, you quickly cover your mouth with a gloved hand, trying your very best not to laugh at the poor guy

Ringo however, is completely under your spell at the moment

"I uuuuh, I'm Ringo"

His big droopy eyes are absolutely transfixed in a dreamlike haze on your beautiful face, and he offers you his hand to shake

Now you're REALLY trying not to laugh

You give his hand a shake, brushing off any awkward feelings, and introduce yourself

Ringo repeats your name aloud, looking now as though he's been transported into a dream

That's your name? He loves that name! How did you know!

After a moment of awkward silence while you let him process, he thankfully seems to return to reality

"Ahem, sorry, I didn't mean to bother you"

He looks away quickly, now starting to realize he's made himself out to be quite the fool

"Well I feel rather silly, uh"

He scratches his neck and sneaks a glance up at you

Thankfully, you're very understanding! You have a lot of fans, and his behavior isn't quite unheard of in your experience

"Oh, no no! It's no trouble at all!"

You give a genuine laugh and tell him you're always glad to meet a fan

Ringo responds with a little humor to relieve any last traces of tension or awkwardness and then laughs his deep, goofy laugh

You contemplate what a strange but wonderful sound it is

And you know? wouldn't mind sticking around to hear it again...

Besides, he's clearly already very interested in you

That, and it's nice to meet a gentle soul amongst your fan base, rather then the clamoring men and women you're used to

Ringo smiles at you with pure admiration, before picking up some easy small talk with you, just as though you're anyone else

It's at that moment you officially fall for him

#the Beatles #beatles imagines #beatles x reader #paul mccartney x reader #ringo starr x reader #john lennon x reader #george harrison x reader

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years

Text

some kind of loud, attention grabbing noise that lets you know ITS FIC TIME, BABYYYYY you could start here, but the context... the build up.. the hours of worldcrafting, you'd miss it all... so start here, instead, then circle back.

These last two weeks have actually been nice. She and Adam had both mutually agreed that, despite not being the kind of person either of them would intentionally seek out on their own, Beetlejuice (she still has a hard time believing that’s what BJ stands for, but okay,) is fun. Not just fun, but funny, and seemingly often in the mood to laugh, in that overblown, Vincent Price horror movie way he does, which earns him multiple shushes in the library.

Drama club has gotten better. Barbara has a private theory that what most people need is to just get used to BJ, to spend enough time with him that he stops looking like an outsider, and it’s coming true, slowly, but finally. BJ had mentioned off-handedly he played ukulele, and when the other kids had expressed interest, he’d brought it with him the next day... Though she’s not quite sure where he kept it, the entire day. She’s seen that mess of a locker he’s got. She doubts it fits in there. And it can’t have been in his backpack, either, because every time he sets it down, she can hear what sounds like glass and rocks settling. She’s even seen him, after school, pick up a rock and shove it in one of the pockets. She has to assume his bag weighs a hundred pounds, or so.

His instrument, almost predictably, was painted with black and white stripes, but he’d played the little thing like a pro. She had never taken him for someone who enjoyed the mellow, soft sounds the ukulele was known for, but clearly, she doesn’t know enough about the boy. Miss Larson, the drama instructor, had clapped, and learned that BJ could read music, too. “Maybe while we’re practicing, you can accompany us?” She’d asked, clearly trying to work a way into getting more participation out of their newest member. BJ had been flustered, but had agreed, easily.

The wildest thing had been hearing him sing. They’d moved from being in the drama room, most days, to being in the auditorium, working on lines and practicing their singing. No one’s been officially cast, yet, but it’s mostly to get used to being on stage. Miss Larson had insisted that BJ sing a few lines for them, and he’d sort of made a face, ducked backstage, and had appeared with his ukulele in hand. Barbara didn’t even know he’d put it back there.

“Uh, so, sing what?” He’d shuffled awkwardly, and Miss Larson had smiled. “Whatever you feel,” to which BJ just snorted, and rolled his eyes, but then he plucked a few notes on his ukulele, and started to sing.

“There’s a camp, there’s a camp, by the frozen lake, wa wa ooh. With every belly starving and every finger numb, but up on the hill there’s a red, red rum, somebody’s always cooking something in the lean-to.”

It wasn't a song she’d recognized, but it was clearly morbid. She shouldn’t have expected anything different. The real focal point was his voice, his strange, scratchy pitch, because despite sounding like he gargles sandpaper and nails, he’s got a strong, clear tone, one that carries well, and as he sings, he doesn’t hit a single sour note. She also noted that his enunciation is much clearer when he’s singing, oddly enough. He sang as much as he decided he needed to, and clung to his ukelele as he finished, like a lifeline. “So. Yeah.” He’d said, and then flinched when the clapping started, from all members present, but especially her and Adam. He’d stood looking around at them all, utterly baffled.

“You didn’t tell us you would sing!” Jeremiah, the student director, was the one who looked the most enthused, and BJ balked. “Didn’t think it mattered. M’just gonna be a stagehand.. Right?”

“Maybe he could play the dentist?” Miss Larson had looked at Jeremiah, and they’d begun talking amongst themselves, ignoring him, as he strummed nervously at his instrument.

“Oh, wait, check this out!”

And he sings again, another verse from that same, oddly morbid song, which she’d started to pick up is definitely about cannibals, but his voice is.. Different. The grit is gone. It’s like he’d ran his vocal cords under some hot soapy water, and washed all the grime and gravel out of them, because he sang like an angel, like a normal person, and then, suddenly, devolved into a hacking cough, doubled over.

“Sorry, can only do that so long. Hurts my throat,” he said, after a moment, all the grit back in his voice. He waited. There had been a soft laugh, and then it grew louder, coming from each of the members watching him in turn, because the idea that speaking like THAT somehow hurts, and his normal tone doesn’t, is just so outrageous and silly, and he’d stood there proudly, grinning in that way he does, because his joke had landed, and he might, for the first time since he was forced into their club, be enjoying himself.

So, yes. The last few weeks have been good. Very good.

All that club progress aside, looking back makes her a little flustered, because at this point, she’s gotten the hint that he’s not gay. What he is, is incredibly flirty, not only with Adam but with her, and she finds herself... enjoying it. He keeps his ukulele tucked into the bottom of the cart in the library, and sometimes, when he’s certain he won’t be interrupted, he grabs it and sings little songs about them, laying on top of the cart like a drunk lounge singer on a piano, as she or Adam wheel it along. The songs are made up on the spot tunes that often start dirty, and end sincere, like he can’t even help it. It’s embarrassing, and endearing, and just very… Beetlejuice.

There’s just the problem lingering overhead, the one she’s desperate to solve, of Kevin. BJ doesn’t talk about him, abruptly changes the subject when she tries, or just goes silent, and gives her a hard glare with those amber eyes, which is the worst of the three options, because silence on him is unnerving. He can do this thing where he goes deathly still, and she swears he doesn’t even breathe, just stands there, totally unmoving, like a corpse.

She thinks if she could just go to his house, and talk to his mother, she might get a better understanding of the entire situation, but despite him inviting them, he’s never followed up, and both Adam and herself are too polite to push.. Directly. But then, he doesn’t show up that day, not for library duty and not for drama club, and she makes the decision for him, that today is the day they’ll be coming over. She gets his address out of the guidance counselor, easily. “It’s so sweet you two want to go check up on him,” Mrs. Birch says, sliding his address across her desk to Barbara. “I knew the drama club would be a good fit for him! He’s already making friends!”

Adam’s mom is nice enough to drop them off, and Adam, adorable, sweet Adam, stares delighted at the house, as they walk up the front steps. “It’s a tudor!” he tells her, and she sort of nods, not really knowing exactly what that means. “I’ve never seen one painted black and white, before. Usually those accents are a natural wood color,” and she rings the bell, as he goes on. The outside of the house matches BJ’s stripes, and she wonders if that’s coincidence, or if his parents just really, really love him. The door swings open, and then a chubby blur jumps away from their line of sight, startling her from her thoughts. “Beetlejuice?” Adam calls, concerned, and it takes a moment for their friend to reappear in the doorway, with a croaked out, “Sup?”

He looks terrible. He always looks a little terrible, as mean as that is to say, too pale and with purple spots under his eyes she chalks up to exhaustion, but he looks worse, today. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d actually be sick.

“We just wanted to come by and see if you were okay,” she tells him, and BJ cocks his head so far to the side, he looks like he might fall over. “Why?” “Because.. We’re your friends,” Adam says, cautiously, which causes BJ to stare down at the checkered entryway tile.

“Oh.” He packs a lot of emotion into that little noise.

“Can we come in?” She asks, and he doesn’t look sure, rubbing at the back of his neck, but then next to him, in the doorway, appears what must be Mrs. Deetz. She’s on the tall side, slim, with blonde hair past her shoulders, and she’s wearing all black with lace accents. Even her stud earrings and the rings on her fingers are that same dark hue.

“Well, hello! BJ, invite your friends in!” She urges him, and then, to them asks, “You kids hungry? We’re just sitting down to dinner. It’s grilled cheese tower night,” and then she turns, and leaves them there, like that needs no explanation.

BJ fidgets a moment, but relents. “Come in, I guess,” he moves aside, and Adam and Barbara take a collective step into the Deetz household. The house is dark, not for lack of light, but for lack of color. The walls are paneling which Adam, delighted, says must be original, but they’ve been stained a dark shade of coffee, and it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust. When she does, she takes in how strangely eerie the place is. It’s less like someone’s home and more like a haunted house ride.

“Oh, you guys haven't taken down the Halloween décor, yet?” Adam asks, noting a cracked vase full of black roses on a side table as they follow BJ further in, and BJ snorts. “That crap? It's up in th’ attack. This is what passes for normal around here.” Barbara stops to stare at a picture of a distorted figure cannibalizing a smaller one. “Saturn Devouring His Son,” BJ says, briefly putting on a voice like a tour guide, high pitched and peppy, and both she and Adam wince. “What’s with you and cannibalism?” she asks, which only earns her that haunted laugh in response.

The kitchen, at least, looks a little more normal and bright, but Barbara learns quickly that’s not to be trusted, because sitting on the counter is what looks to be a lasagna made from sandwiches and sauce. “You guys are here on a night Emily had to cook. Bad luck,” BJ tells them, and it takes her a moment to realize he’s talking about his mother. Does he use her first name?

Emily, or, Mrs. Deetz, her mind corrects politely, busies herself with dishing them both a plate. “So, you kids must be.. Adam and Barbara,” she says, knowingly, and BJ, perhaps embarrassed, shuffles his bare feet at nothing. He’s been talking to his mom about them… aww. She notices then that he’s in his pajamas, which are, like everything else he wears, eccentric. He looks cute. She realizes she’s staring, and BJ catches her eye, and wiggles his eyebrows at her. Oh, god.

“We’re sorry for dropping by unannounced, Mrs. Deetz,” Adam says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Mrs. Deetz waives that off. “It’s totally fine. BJ’s never taken a sick day, before, I bet you probably thought he was faking. You kids can call me Emily. And that, of course, is Lydia.” She gestures to the nine year old scrutinizing them from the kitchen table.

“Hello again,” Barbara says, and Lydia gives her a smile, at least, but it's wary, it’s very, “I’ve got my eyes on you.” It’s strange to see from a little kid.

They all sit down to eat, all five of them, at the kitchen table, she and Adam settled across from BJ and Lydia. Adam squints, trying to read what’s on the other boy’s shirt. “What does that say?” he asks, and BJ glances down, and pulls the top taught, to make it easier to read. “Least exciting hole I’ve ever been in,” both boys say, at the same time. “Grand Canyon National Park.” Barbara and Adam both blush at that, and Mrs.. Emily, Emily just laughs. Lydia looks annoyed. “No one will explain to me what that means,” she tells Barbara, leaning closer to her, and almost looking hopeful. Barbara avoids that look. “It’s a dirty joke,” is all she says, and Lydia, clearly not satisfied, just takes a bite of her grilled cheese abomination. “Chuck hates this shirt,” BJ tells them. “Chuck?” “Chuck, Chuckster, Chuckles, Charles.. My dad,” he grates out. Barbara can’t imagine calling her father by his first name. She’d be in a world of trouble for being “disrespectful,” if she tried. “Is Mr. Deetz home?” Adam asks, and Lydia is the one to reply, mouth still a little too full.

“He’s at the office. He’s always working so fucking late,” Lydia says, and then lets it settle in the air, like she’s waiting for something. Barbara balks, and it feels like her eyes are bulging out of her head, because she’s never heard that kind of language from a nine year old. She glances at Emily nervously, waiting for her to blow up, to be angry, but Emily just seems to be in deep thought.

“I dunno about that one, Lyds,” Mrs. Deetz finally says, and Lydia puffs up her chest and tries again. “He’s always working so god damn late?” She looks to her mother, and Emily, finger on her chin, nods. “Yeah, alright. I hereby decree that Lydia Deetz, at the age of nine and a half, is allowed to say god damn.” Lydia pumps her fist and then takes another huge mouthful of grilled cheese casserole. “Bout fuckin’ time,” BJ grunts. Barbara thinks the Deetz family might all be whack jobs. there's more, a lot more, but tumblr can't handle it all, so read this chapter in full over on Ao3!

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice the musical #goldenrat #beetlelands #barbara maitland #adam maitland #lydia deetz #emily deetz

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browncoatparadox · 4 years

Text

That’s the Highway That’s the Best

The Murderbot discord talked about a modern road trip AU for MB & ART and I ended up writing 1.7k when I was supposed to be doing homework. Title from “Route 66″ because why not.

I’m travelling across the desert in my van and I am completely and utterly bored. The radio cut out a couple miles back, and I’ve listened to every CD in here with Iris about a thousand times. I would look over some of the data I’ve collected, but I need to keep my eyes on the road even though there’s no one else around. The only thing that adds any variety is the occasional interesting rock formation, which doesn’t really catch my attention. I’m not a geologist, and even if I was stopping to study these would only make this trip take even longer. I sigh as I adjust my mirrors for something, anything to do, and see another figure by the road. This one’s closer, almost on the pavement itself. I idly wonder how long it’s been there. Was the road built next to it, or was it deposited later? It takes me an embarrassingly long time (about five seconds) for me to realize that the rock is moving. Specifically, it’s holding out a thumb and waving with its other arm. A hitchhiker, out in the middle of the desert, absolutely covered in dust, wearing a battered backpack and an irritated expression.

I pull up. This person doesn’t look like much of a threat, and even if they are I can take care of myself. That’s why my parents let me do the four-day drive back to the University on my own. Well, that and the fact that they were busy with some of their… “extracurricular” activities. I roll down the window, taking in the figure before me.

“I need to get to RaviHyral,” the person says, and- holy shit. Upon closer inspection they’re tiny. I know I’m big, but this kid looks like they weigh less than a helium balloon. They’ve clearly been out here for a while, drenched in sweat and sand. There’s a bandage wrapped around their leg, and their long hair drapes over their eyes. In short, they look like someone’s who’s had a rough time lately. They look me over skeptically, glancing each way as if they’re checking for someone else. I’d know better than anyone that, at least in the direction I’m coming from, I’m all they’ve got if they want to get out of the sun.

“Hop in,” I say, unlocking the passenger door. The kid slinks in, hugging their backpack close as they buckle their seatbelt. I reach into the back and rummage for a water bottle. When I turn my focus back, the kid’s hunched against the door. They shake their head when I offer them the bottle, pulling a canteen out of their bag. I shrug and turn the engine back on, sighing as I feel the air conditioning kick in. The kid exhales a bit as well (and I should probably call them something else, but there’s no way they’re older than me and it’s not like I know anything about them). The van starts moving back down the road, and I look over at my passenger.

The kid puts on headphones and starts listening to… something. If I really focus, I can make out music, something melodramatic, and people talking over it. I’m concentrating so hard on trying to make out the words that I don’t realize I’m leaning towards the kid until the kid shoves me. The kid glares. I glare back. The kid shrinks into the seat. Fuck. I didn’t mean to do that.

“What are you listening to?” There, hopefully that will clarify my curiosity. And make it so that I’m not just sitting in silence again, but this time with a mystery right next to me.

The kid says, “Episode 373 of The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. The colony supervisor…” The kid’s voice trails off. “It’s kind of complicated. If you want to listen, I could put on a new show? Then we could start from the beginning?”

I nod enthusiastically, rummaging through the compartment in front of me for an aux cord. If the kid doesn’t want to talk, then at least I’ll have something new to listen to. I hand it to the kid, who plugs it into their battered iPod and presses play for something labelled as Worldhoppers. A bombastic horn flourish plays out, and I notice the kid start to relax as the characters begin to talk. It quickly becomes less of a concern to me, though, because apparently the kid has fantastic taste in media. The kid smiles a little when I look at them after the credits roll. “Next episode?”

We listen to four episodes of Worldhoppers in between where I picked up the kid and the nearest gas station. I pull over, enjoying the chance to stretch my legs. The kid sits on the hood of the car, legs kicking, as I go to refill the tank. “So, what are you doing in fuck-knows-where, ART?”

“Art?” I ask. I have no idea where that could have possibly come from.

The kid shrugs. “Short for Asshole Road Tripper. You didn’t give me your name.”

I wince a bit. In my defense, I’m not used to introducing myself to people. Most of the people I hang out with have known me since I was adopted, and those that don’t have talked to Iris first. Anyways, it’s not like they’ve given me their name either. “ART works. Just don’t talk about me with binary pronouns- it/its preferably, but if you’re uncomfortable with that they/them is fine.”

The kid startles a little bit, opens their mouth like they’re going to ask a question, and then shuts it again. I’m hoping that means that they aren’t going to start anything with me over my gender. Good. I’d hate to kick out the kid in the middle of the desert, even if they didn’t have what was quickly turning into my favorite show. I give the kid five dollars to get something to eat while I wait by the van. If they want to ditch me, they can. Even with the shelter of the gas station, they’re miles from RaviHyral and night’s coming. I doubt the kid’s going to want to be out when it starts to get cold, especially with the shorts that they’ve been wearing.

The kid comes back. I pretend not to notice them pocketing the change. They scramble into their seat as I close the fuel tank. By the time I settle into place, the intro to Worldhoppers is already playing. I turn the ignition, patting the wheel as my van rumbles to life, and head back onto the road.

The sun sets. I roll down my window and look out at the sky, even though the air has become frigid. I love the stars out here. They’re the best thing about the desert, so close that I can almost touch them. The kid looks out too, eyes widening as they take in the Milky Way splayed above us. It almost feels like flying through space, like my van is a starship travelling between worlds instead of a beat-up camper travelling to a nowhere mining town.

We ran out of episodes an hour ago. The kid had put the finale episode back on after we finished it (which I, for one, greatly appreciated, considering the sheer amount of chaos in that episode), but now we’re just sitting together in silence.

“How’d you end up out here?” I’ve been thinking about this in between Worldhoppers episodes, and while I have a hypothesis of my own I want to know what the kid’s going to say.

They hesitate for a moment. “The last car I was in broke down. I ended up going ahead while the driver waited for a tow truck.”

I look at the kid. “I meant before that.”

They grimace. I think about the news alert that was on the radio right before the signal began to deteriorate, about a group of scientists who had found traces of radioactive waste during their biological survey, and a local teen who had helped them find evidence linking the materials to the GreyCris Mining Corporation. About how said local teen had disappeared after being checked out from the hospital, having been shot by GreyCris’s guards.

The kid sighs, and explains the story. It lines up with what I know. I notice that they don’t mention the injury on their leg, but decide not to push it now. I’ve got a full medical kit in the back that I can use to fix it up when we stop for the night.

I’m really not liking the situation. I didn’t like it earlier, when I just thought they might be a kid travelling alone through the desert. I ignore the part of me that points out that I’m technically also a kid travelling alone through the desert. My family knows, if not specifically where I am, my general itinerary, and they know that I can look out for myself. Plus, I’ve got a van. This kid has no one, and it sounds like they may be in the kind of trouble that my family can help with. If they need a new identity, a place where they can hide from GreyCris, I can help with that.

I don’t want to press them, but I’m this close to passing by RaviHyral and taking them back to the University with me.

“What do you need to do in RaviHyral?” I ask. I’m not planning on leaving them there alone. If they’re just headed to the nearest town, I can take them somewhere safer.

The kid looks at me, really looks, their eyes taking in everything about me and tallying it all up in their head. They make some sort of mental calculation, nod to themselves, and take a shaky breath.

“I need to find one of my old foster homes,” they say quietly. “I need to figure out what happened to me there.”

My brain runs through all of the possible meanings of that statement. This kid isn’t trying to hide their identity. They’re trying to find it.

Fuck it. My family won’t be too upset if I show up a few days late.

#my writing #murderbot #the murderbot diaries #fanfic #modern au #fun facts #ART is 6 foot 6 and broad #its family are all astrophysicists at the UoMaNT but also make fake passports/visas for immigrants #both MB and ART are nonbinary #MB is figuring out its name and pronouns #MB is a runaway teen that pretty much accidentally got involved with Preservation #everyone wants to adopt MB #it's a problem (according to MB)#ART does roll up to University five days late with its medical supplies depleted and tells its family about its new friend

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roselen-mylady · 4 years

Text

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader °part fourteen°

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occured she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

"It's called Recover and Enable with Stark Technologies: Opportunity, Revival and Excellence. Or uh, RESTORE for short." Tony explained, the hologram capturing what they all knew to be one of his last days. "Damn, now that I say it aloud, it's a bit pretentious but we'll get used to it." He chuckled, still a little proud of his abbreviation.

"It's a resources company really. Offers financial help to families affected by the snap along with structure and aid to businesses, cooperations, hell even the government. They've always had their heads up their asses though." Y/n listened carefully, her heart stinging a bit more than usual. Maybe it was from watching yet another message from her idol and lost friend.

"It comes along with therapy and counseling. Really it's supposed to help piece the world back together. You should feel right at home. It was that aspect that told me you'd be perfect for the job. I'm sure I can help you with the other parts of the job. Or uh, Pepper will. I was never any good at running a business that was always her thing." Tony smiled fondly, the hologram's eyes seeming to stare straight into Pepper's.

Y/n could tell Pepper was fighting tears. It only made her own guilt grow.

Why did Tony have to die? It wasn't a fair question. Not to her. She should've done more, should've given her life to let him live the rest of his. To see his daughter grow up. To let Pepper finally have peace.

But what if she had? Would Bucky had even known she was his soulmate? Would he have found her body in the rumble, her shattered arm and scarred skin barely visible from the damage of the stones she should've been destroyed by. Would he have had to find out his soulmate had lost the war from her stopped countdown? Would he have had to piece together how close they were to meeting? Would he recover from that?

"We need to start soon," Pepper spoke suddenly, hastily wiping her face as she stood. Y/n watched wide eyed and silent as Pepper paced over to a man she'd learned to be Happy, quietly requesting he watch Morgan. Y/n stood, quickly moving to follow the woman.

She understood what Pepper was doing. She was avoiding the pain, putting all her effort and focus into anything but the death of her husband. Hundreds of people did it after the first snap and she couldn't say she blamed them. But it was different this time. There was no way she could've prevented the first snap, no way she could've saved all of those lives that were now returned.

But the last snap was within arms reach of her. She was capable of stopping it, sparing the last victim of the snap. But she failed.

Maybe Pepper had the right idea. This guilt was overwhelming.

"Tony set up some meetings with other corporations for Monday. I'd like you to be there with me." Pepper told her, her heels rhythmically clicking down the steps as Y/n followed carefully.

"Monday? Doesn't this seem a little rushed? I mean, I don't even know what I'm doing. Shouldn't I have some kind of lessons?" Y/n objected, her brow creasing warily.

"You'll learn through experience." Pepper replied. It was too much, too overwhelming. Y/n had just lost two friends, another left her and she'd met her soulmate. Now they wanted her to run a company that the world would eventually depend on?

How would she even begin?

In an effort to take a breath, she looked away from Pepper, her eyes trailing to the lake. It was peaceful, much more peaceful than Y/n had felt in days-years if she was being honest.

She hoped that after everything that had happened, she could just go back to being normal or as normal as someone like her could be. She didn't care about the hero's life and she didn't want to be Iron Star for any longer than she had to. But as she looked around at the others, she realized that was becoming less and less of a possibility. They looked at her as if she were next.

They seemed to know she was going to be one of them just by looking at her. But why? Because Tony took a chance on her? Because they were so similar? Or was it something else, something she hadn't seen yet?

Suddenly the calm ripples in the water were disturbed with a large splash, sending the area into chaos. A rock had broken the surface of the lake, sinking in the next second. It happened so quick and so subtly that she wasn't sure it'd even happened. The water calmed once more and the rock was lost to the bottom of the lake.

Once finding the source of the rock, her breath hitched.

He was there at the lakeside, pacing with one hand in his pocket while the other rubbed his neck. His head was downcast and he looked stressed, just as stressed as she was. That's when she realized.

He'd just met his soulmate too. After what she guessed to be almost 90 years. Nearly a century without his soulmate. He was just as nervous and overwhelmed. But it didn't mean he wasn't dying to talk to her. She could feel it, his eagerness. The way his heart ached to speak to her again even if only a few words. She wondered if he could feel her own longing.

"I need to do something. I'll be right back." Y/n excused herself, trying to be as polite as she could. She knew Pepper wanted to carry out her husband's last wish as soon as possible but they both knew he wouldn't have meant it like this. Didn't mean to leave them alone to handle it.

Pepper nodded, releasing a sigh. Everything was beginning to weigh down on her and she knew forcing more onto her shoulders wasn't gonna work this time. "Just call me tomorrow, okay?"

"I will." Y/n assured, looking back to Bucky. Pepper's expression had softened a bit following Y/n's gaze.

She remembered the first time she'd met Tony. At first he was adamant about their relationship, refusing to let her forget they were soulmates. But after what happened in Afghanistan he stopped his teasing. He stopped addressing it altogether. The trauma was too much.

Tony wasn't the same and things changed. But she liked to think it was for the better. He was a better man but he stopped seeing himself as worthy of a soulmate. He forgot what soulmates were for and it crushed Pepper.

She refused to let Y/n feel the same.

"Just meet me at Stark Industries on Monday. Have this time with him." Pepper told Y/n, motioning her head toward Bucky.

Y/n nodded softly, working up the courage to make her way to him. "Thank you."

•••

"What did that poor rock do to you?" Bucky froze at her question, whipping around to face her. She offered a soft smile, trying to break the awkwardness before it became too strong.

Bucky let out an airy laugh, looking back at the lake where he'd just thrown the rock. "Looked at me funny." He replied jokingly, turning back to her. She moved carefully toward him, coming to stand at his side a couple feet away.

He wished she would stand closer, close enough for him to put his arm around her. Close enough for him to hold her tight and never let her go. But he'd respect the distance. He'd give her space.

There was a buzz in the air as she stood there next to him, as if everything was falling into place. It felt like the atmosphere had shifted, that the stars had aligned. After all these years without her, he finally had her.

And all he could muster was, 'looked at me funny'?

"Must've been some look." Y/n replied with an amused smirk.

The silence was overwhelming but welcomed. Of course both wanted to fill it with anything and everything they could say but neither were ready for that. They each had their secrets, their pasts. They were at a conflicting crossroads.

"It's strange. I've waited my whole life to tell you everything but now I don't have anything to say." Y/n let out a strained laugh, looking down at her sling. She wanted so badly to see her countdown, to finally confirm to herself that she had him and that he wasn't going anywhere. But her countdown couldn't promise that. Only fate could keep him at her side and so far fate hadn't been kind.

"Me too." Bucky mumbled, cringing at how awkward he believed to be making things.

'Say something.' His mind cursed at him. 'Say anything.'

"You're really beautiful." He spoke suddenly, his face flushing at how stupid he sounded. He meant it of course. She was stunning despite the cuts and bruises along her features. Gorgeous even with the dirt and dried blood that traced her hairline. Enchanting regardless of the sling that obstructed her movement. She was beautiful.

But saying it aloud after only speaking a few words to one another made him feel silly. So long ago he'd call complete strangers beautiful without a second thought. But was that right with his soulmate? Were there certain things he should do? A way to act?

All his worries faded away with her smile, such a glorious thing he couldn't wait to see everyday for the rest of his life. If she would have him.

"Thank you, Bucky." His name slipped off her lips so naturally it was as if she'd been saying it all her life. And maybe she had. Fate worked in mysterious ways and his mother was a firm believer that soulmates always found one another. In this life or another. He'd never believed it but now he had. They'd found each other, despite time and despite space. They were bound to one another and he could feel that Y/n knew it too.

"I have a place in the city. It's where I was heading before...you know. Not that meeting you was an inconvenience, I honestly never thought I would. Not that I didn't want to, I dreamt of it...-I'm rambling now." She sighed. How had she managed to make it even more awkward?

"It's okay." Bucky assured, unable to stop his smile from growing.

"What I was trying to say is I'd like you to stay with me, if you want. It might be a little bit more comfortable than whatever lodging Fury is getting for you all. I have a spare room." She offered, her heart heavy with the idea of Steve being gone. He'd chosen the life he wanted. Unfortunately she wasn't a part of it.

"I'd like that." Bucky nodded, his heart swelling at the suggestion. Not only was it one of the few kind acts he'd experienced since escaping HYDRA, it was also an invitation from his soulmate into her life.

He wouldn't squander the opportunity.

"Great." Y/n smiled, releasing the breath she'd been holding upon his answer. A part of her had been scared of rejection. But she guessed things with soulmates were different. They were easier. Maybe it was the assurance that they were the right match or maybe it was just the overall feeling of belonging that came with the other's presence.

Soulmates were easy.

At least she thought.

•••

When they arrived at Y/n's apartment, she was grateful she had cleaned up before everything that had happened. She'd never brought a man home before, let alone her soulmate and she wasn't sure what to say or do. The only person that she'd even brought to her apartment was Steve and by then their conversation flowed as easily as breathing.

"You have a nice place, very um, modern?" He offered, not knowing what to say himself. It'd been so many years since he'd even talked to a woman and he wasn't even sure he knew how to flirt anymore.

"Thank you." Y/n replied quietly, glancing around the apartment as if trying to see it through his eyes. She remembered Steve mentioning the lack of photos once when he first started to live there. Did Bucky think it was weird?

"Can I get you something to drink? Water, coffee, wine…?" She trailed off. Bucky looked at her, taking notice of her own nerves.

"Water is fine." He answered, smiling at her softly in any attempt to soothe her.

It seemed to work as she smiled back at him, turning toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. "Make yourself comfortable. You can watch TV if you'd like." Y/n called to him, taking a moment after pouring the glass to lean against the counter and sigh, hiding away from the source of her anxiety.

She'd always wanted to meet him. She had wanted to have him in her life from the moment she'd heard about soulmates. But what she never expected was how awkward it would be. She'd always been told that soulmates clicked instantly but they hadn't quite clicked yet. And she could tell Bucky felt it too.

Perhaps it was everything they'd been through? Maybe it'd changed them both enough to where clicking was harder? Or maybe they'd never click.

Her heart dropped at this, sending a surge of pain through her chest. Would she even be able to live with herself if they never clicked? She'd lost everyone, would she lose her soulmate too?

Suddenly a booming voice echoed from the living room, frightening her out of her daze. Quickly grabbing the glass, she dashed into the living room, plucking the remote from the wide eyed Bucky. Hastily, she muted it letting out a panicked sigh as the reporter continued on with his story silently.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't be sorry, really. Trust me that's not the first time I've had to rescue a 100 year old vet from my TV. It just seems to know who to attack." She nervously laughed, setting down the remote. The tense air seemed to relax at that and Bucky found himself chuckling along with her.

The accident, though startling at first, made her feel more at ease. It was something familiar and for the first time since their meeting, there was no awkward feeling between them.

"Here," Y/n handed the glass to him with a shaking hand, trying not to let him see how much had spilled out onto her hand when she rushed into the living room.

Bucky accepted it from her, his fingers lingering on hers for just a moment before retracting.

He could feel her but not like his hand used to. The metal digits no longer felt warmth or pain or tenderness. He could feel when something touched him but all the things that made touch special were stolen along with his real appendage. He wished he'd reached out with his other arm, that he could feel the softness of her skin, the warmth.

"I-I'm not sure how this goes. I rehearsed this a thousand times when I first got my countdown but things are so much more different than I expected. My parents always raised me on the false ideal that we'd meet somewhere cliche like a coffee shop or something." She shook her head, immediately regretting her words the moment they left her mouth.

"I don't really know either. Honestly, I never thought I'd meet you." He sighed, his heart aching with the decades he'd lived believing that he'd die before meeting her. But now she was here and he was ruining it.

Y/n frowned with him, racking her brain for anyway to save their less than perfect first day. "Maybe we should start over." She suggested, putting out her free hand to him.

"Hi. I'm Dr. Y/n L/n." She introduced, deciding there couldn't be harm in starting over. Their meeting was emotional and overwhelming and after all it was just awkward. But Y/n didn't want to remember it that way and neither did Bucky.

As she had hoped, he smiled, putting his own hand into hers and shaking it gently. "Sergeant James Barnes. But everyone calls me Bucky." He replied, his smile growing as she looked at him, her eyes conveying all the warmth she was too scared to admit.

"It's very nice to meet you, Bucky." Y/n smiled, studying the way he looked at her and trying not to let herself blush.

"It's an honor to meet you, Y/n."

•••

The rest of the evening continued this way, an occasional small bount of awkwardness along with some silence before another conversation arised. It was just like getting to know a stranger and while it wasn't what she had anticipated when she thought of meeting her soulmate, it still made her happier than she had ever been.

"So, I started to climb up the fire escape because I definitely wasn't going to wait outside in the snow storm for Steve to rescue me." Y/n explained matter-of-factly, earning a small chuckle from Bucky.

"Of course." He replied shortly, already picturing the woman before him beginning her journey up the fire escape.

"Turns out Steve was already home but he was in the shower. He got out right as I made it to the window and he nearly threw me several stories because he thought I was a burglar. He was so mad, he called me crazy about a hundred times before finally letting me in." Bucky laughed at her retelling, watching the glimmer in her eyes as she relived it.

"Like he's one to judge. When we were younger he'd lose his key all the time, had to start hiding one under a brick at his ma's apartment." Bucky told her, his heart aching slightly as he thought of the last time he'd had to help Steve. His mother had just passed and Bucky was pleading with Steve to stay with him. But Steve was independent, always had been.

"He wanted to change the locks when he found out I lost my key, which I mean, is a fair request but realistically there are about 3 million apartments in the city and the chances of someone finding this one was impossible. Also when you add Captain America into the mix, the chances of your apartment being robbed are quite slim." She explained. She still hadn't changed the locks now that she thought about it and Steve was gone.

And besides she'd survived before Steve. But it didn't make her miss him any less.

"You can never be too careful." Bucky replied, shrugging softly.

"I suppose." Y/n mumbled, looking down at the coffee table where her feet were resting. It always drove Steve crazy but it never stopped her. Yet now she almost felt compelled to do so. Some way to respect his wishes. "What was he like? Who was Steve before the serum and everything?" She asked, slowly dropping her feet from the table.

The question stunned Bucky, leaving him speechless for a few short moments. Several words popped to his mind to describe Steve but they were all things he knew Y/n would already have witnessed.

"He was selfless and brave. And stupid. So stupid. Never knew when to sit a fight out." Bucky chuckled fondly, though it faded just as fast as it had come. "He fought for me when I was on the run from HYDRA. He lost everything to save me."

"Sounds like Steve." Y/n didn't lift her gaze only offering a weak smile at her beloved friend's description.

Y/n was exhausted, so much more tired than she believed possible but given her physical state it made sense. She yawned, trying to muffle as much of it as she could, her eyes watering at how harsh the yawn had rolled through her.

Bucky hardly noticed, a bount of guilt settling on his heavy heart. Bucky didn't deserve saving. But Steve fought for him anyways. And now he was sitting next to his soulmate, the very soulmate he dared not envision a life with for fear of a broken heart.

"How weird that Steve befriended us both, nearly a century apart. And I thought fate was fucked." Y/n laughed quietly, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts. Another yawn took hold of her and Bucky noticed this time, a soft smile gracing his features as he watched her nose scrunch and her hand pathetically fail to hide the yawn.

"It's been a long day." Bucky said quietly, earning a small nod from her.

"You're right." She mumbled, trying to fight off the sleep that so desperately wanted to claim her. There was still so much she wanted to talk to him about and the few hours they had spent getting to know one another didn't feel like enough. But her body was protesting every second she spent awake.

With a silent sigh, she stood pacing off toward Steve's room to find Bucky some clothes for bed. Bucky rose from the couch to follow, taking notice of how her breathing seemed ragged, almost forced.

It worried him but he didn't say anything. Maybe this was normal? He had no idea. He hadn't thought to ask Steve about her condition and asking her now didn't seem right. So he merely watched her with a silent and concerned gaze.

However once reaching Steve's room, Bucky's attention was stolen. It was clear Steve lived in this room. Whether it was the religiously kept bed, neutral colored clothes hung neatly in the closet or the drawings and pictures strung along his walls, Bucky knew this was where Steve had spent a great deal of time.

The pictures varied in a great deal of things, from NYC buildings drawn from the point of view of the street to beautiful scenes from different cities that Bucky guessed Steve had seen during missions. But one in particular caught his eye, pinned carefully to the wall with a tack.

It was of Y/n from her shoulders up, her head slightly turned down. He found her face was quickly becoming a source of comfort. Just seeing her put him at ease and he'd only met her that day.

The picture gave him that same kind of feeling, the feeling that made his chest soft and his muscles relax. It was a way he had yet to see her, so peaceful and calm.

She was reading a book or maybe a magazine? Her eyes focused on the words but there was a daze behind them as if she were daydreaming. He wondered what she had been thinking about. Wondered why she no longer wore her hair like it was in the portrait. Or maybe she did and he hadn't seen it yet?

There were so many things he'd yet to know and a part of him was furious that he had missed all this time with her. He wanted to know her as well as Steve had, wanted to know everything that made her Y/n. He was furious with fate for stealing that from him.

"Here, these might be comfortable enough for sleepwear. But honestly none of Steve's clothes look very comfortable." Y/n spoke, sending a wary look toward Steve's closet where she'd just been.

"So, Steve lived here?" Bucky asked, under the impression that Steve was more of a frequent guest. Y/n tilted her head with a small nod, looking around at the room.

It had once been her office, the very office she used to hold her sessions in. But once branching out to old cafes, the room was often vacant. Thankfully that was around the time she met Steve and the room quickly found a new purpose.

"Yeah, I mean he still went to the compound sometimes but this was his home. He didn't pay rent but he helped out around the apartment, most of the time." Y/n shrugged, smirking slightly. "He had a thing about dishes." She spoke, raising a brow at Bucky as if he might have some sort of background on the interesting flaw.

"He used to say didn't like his fingers to get wrinkled but I always knew it was because soggy food made him sick." Bucky explained, smiling at the memory.

Never before had he met someone who knew Steve as well as he did. It had always been just them. And while he was gone it was just Y/n and Steve. Now they were desperately trying to piece themselves together. It was strange, finding someone exactly like him, yet so different.

"You know, for a guy who's seen so much violence, I didn't think that soggy food would be his Kryptonite." Y/n remarked, walking over to the bed and sitting on the side.

"Kryptonite?" Bucky asked, the word foreign to him. Was it like Vibranium?

Y/n paused. "Oh um. Superman? From the comics? He was still kind of new around your guy's time. 1938, I believe." She explained.

Bucky nodded softly, vague memories of Steve mentioning it to him resurfacing. "I remember seeing them but I never really read them." Bucky replied, watching as she adjusted her sling.

"Well, Superman's one weakness was Kryptonite. I guess Captain America's weakness is dishes." She chuckled, seemingly unaware of how distraught her condition made him.

A silence fell over them after that, nearly killing them both. It was almost annoying how badly their conversation flowed. The most at ease they'd felt with each other was when they first met. When they were in each other's arms. It took everything she had not to stand up and throw herself into him again.

"Well, I um, I'm going to um-..." Y/n mumbled, trying to dismiss the thought. Bucky nodded softly, shifting the clothes in his hands. A simple pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

"Yeah." He murmured, watching quietly as she stood making her way to the door.

There was a tension between them, the kind that made Bucky's heart clench and his brows furrow. Y/n could feel it too. But neither acted.

"Goodnight, Bucky." Y/n spoke barely above a whisper, the weight of the tension crashing down on her.

"Goodnight." He replied, his eyes trailing her until she disappeared down the hall.

The weight lifted as soon as she was gone but he soon found himself missing it. Why was talking to her so impossibly hard? He tried telling himself that with time things would get easier but time was the only thing he was no longer willing to give up. He needed to try something different.

Needed to reapproach the whole soulmate thing.

Part fifteen

Taglist:

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

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@buckybarnesdevotee

Sorry for such a delayed update, I've been so busy lately but I hope to start updating regularly again! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!!

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