Love "ON AIR" (E.O)
Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Lizzie have been keep your relationship a secret for the past years until the secret got revealed, ON AIR.
Warning: None, just pure fluff. I'm in the mood of writing fluff, so y'all will read more of it from me. :D
Requested: Yes by @ilovemarvel97
A/n: Hello peeps! I'm back with some more fluff with Lizzie! So, happy reading!
Main Masterlist
"Babe, how do I look?" Lizzie walks in as she twirls a little to present you with her look for tonight's interview with Jimmy Fallon.
"Wow, darling. You look so gorgeous." Her beauty stunned you. All the wait for a few hours was worth it to see her blushing and smiling at you in that outfit.
"Really? This look, is it simple enough and not too much? What if people have negative comments about it? There will be a lot of people there, in Jimmy's show." Worried sounds in her ramble as she asks. Nervousness is written all over her face.
You grab her by her shoulders. "Sstt.. Liz, Liz. You look great and you will do amazing there. Just take a deep breath, think about a happy place or whatever that makes you happy. Also, I'll be waiting at the lounge in the building next door, I'm five minutes away from you. Okay?" You try to calm her down as you rub her upper arms up and down gently. Then you give a quick kiss on her forehead.
She nods. Your touch soothes her and takes her away from her anxiety. "I will think about you. You are my happy place." Her green eyes sparkling with comfort when she looks at you as she speaks.
"Aaw. That's sweet, Liz. So are you to me."
"Are you really okay to wait for me there, y/n? You can just come with me and wait backstage." Lizzie proposes another idea.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm okay. If I wait backstage, people will question it and it will draw attention, sweetie." You give her your reason as your response.
You and Lizzie have been dating secretly for a year and a half now. Lizzie isn't ready to tell the world about it since it's her first relationship with a woman. Nobody knows except family and close friends. She thinks that if the media knows, it will draw a lot of attention and too much for her social anxiety. You totally understand that. Both of you have kept it sealed pretty well that fans think that you are best friends, well…most of them.
Even though there are rumors about you and Lizzie, they don’t cause any ripples to your relationship. You both met as casts in the same movie three years ago, since then you both are inseparable.
“Alright babe, just call me when you are ready for me to pick you up. Good luck, you’ll do great! When you are on air, tell Jimmy I say Hi.” You laugh a little as you are joking. “Haha. You know that he will ask about us if I tell him that.” Lizzie rolls her eyes playfully shortly before she kisses your lips then gets out of the car.
_____
“Alright everybody, please welcome the woman who plays Wanda Maximoff, The Scarlet Witch, the one and only, Elizabeth Olsen! Give her applause!” Jimmy calls her name in excitement as he claps his hands. Audiences instantly stand up and cheer loudly with such hype that overlap with clapping sounds. Lizzie walks into the set and gives a cute small wave to the audience as she walks closer to where Jimmy sits. The talk show host welcomes her with a hug.
Slowly silence starts to fill the set and it’s the cue for Jimmy to talk with Lizzie. “How are you, Lizzie? Good to see you again here.”
Lizzie patches her best smile, draws a subtle deep breath. “I’m good. I’m great actually. Thank you for having me back here. Good to see you and everybody here.” The blonde glanced at the audience and it was enough to make them cheer for her once more.
“Congratulations, I heard your book was a success. They are everywhere now. My kids love them. It’s a great book.” Jimmy’s compliment makes Lizzie smile in gratitude.
“Thank you so much. I was actually excited and nervous but I’m glad that it got very fantastic responses. The whole process from beginning until the launch day was a very fun, interesting and unforgettable moment. I got a lot of support from family, friends and people who are very close to me.”
“Aww that’s really awesome. It’s always nice to know that you have somebody who always supports you.” Jimmy replies in agreement.
“Oh yeah, most definitely. I remember the first time ever I told somebody about this book idea. It was Y/n Y/L/N. She was very supportive and was there for me at every step.” Lizzie’s green eyes sparked in elation. The corner of her eyes crinkled from the wide smile she gets once you popped in her mind as speaks.
“Y/n Y/l/n? As THE Y/n, your co-star in your upcoming movie?" The man asks and looks at her with a knowing smile.
Your girlfriend laughs a little then she nods. "Yes, yes that y/n."
"Oouuh…" The audience responds in unison.
As much as Jimmy really wants to talk about Lizzie and you, he tries to focus on the next topic.
"Oh okay and speaking of your upcoming movieee… How did it go and how do you feel about it?" Jimmy pitches another question to her.
"It was a long filming with a lot of different locations, also I had to do a bunch of flying scenes so there were a lot of wires and strings involved but I'm glad that everything went great! The closer to the premier date the more excited I get. This is my third movie with y/n and it has been really fun to work and spend time with her." Lizzie looks a little nervous and she tries to calm herself down by fidgeting with her ring on her ring finger but her smile is still there. Her brain is multitasking by now between focusing on the interview and thinking about you to help her with her anxiety. Her cheeks turn a little rosie color as she continues to speak highly of you.
Jimmy looks at her and listens to every word she says. He leans a little on his desk, slowly nods at her.
“Y/n has been super sweet and lovely to me since the first time we met.”
“And you met her at the movie set like three years ago, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah. We met at the movie set. It was early in the morning and she came up to me with two cups of coffee in her hands then introduced herself to me but she said she needs my help to grab which coffee that I like so she can shake my hand.” Lizzie can’t help herself to tell the story of how you met her and a cute little laugh slipped out of her.
“So she brought two different coffees in her hands for you and introduced herself to you? Did you actually already know who she is?” Jimmy asks.
“Yeah, one of them just plain coffee and the other one with light cream and light sugar. It was really cute actually and Y-yeah. I know her. I mean, we never met before but I watch almost every movie she is in. She is a great actress.Then we talk more whenever we can on the set. We exchanged numbers. Since then we talk and text on a daily basis. Sometimes we hang out together or with our mutual friends.” Praises and her fond memories of you flows easily out of her smiling red lips.
“Sounds like both of you are really close.” Jimmy shares his thoughts after listening to her answers and some audiences say “Yes..yesss” at the same time.
“Yes, we are.” The Marvel actress admits.
“So has she met your family or maybe your twin sisters?” Jimmy asks slowly to see how she would react to it.
“Well, she met the twins at some events a few times but I think it was Christmas two years ago, which means that was like two months after we became official, I introduced her to my parents and the family.” And just like that, Jimmy’s eyes are rounded, his mouth is slightly open in shock. The audience starts to cheer right after the words “official” and the dark haired man says “Wait..wait..wait..” He politely expresses his surprise to Lizzie and raises his hands a little as his sign to ask the audience to let him talk. Meanwhile, Lizzie looks genuinely confused with what is going on right now. She keeps her smile as she looks back and forth between the host and the audience.
As soon as the crowd calms down, Jimmy proceeds with his curiosity. “Wait. Okay.. Okay. Hold on right there, Lizzie. Didn’t you say that you and Y/n became official?”
Jimmy’s question makes her realize what she just said and she takes her turn looking as shocked as he was. She covers her panic with her iconic laugh while her hand covers her mouth. She shifts her sitting position nervously. “Wait, did I say that? Oh my gosh.” She asks herself innocently and loud enough that instantly brings out laughter from Jimmy and the fans.
“You did. You did. You can’t back out now, Lizzie. Come on, spill the beans.” Jimmy still shows how thrilled he is with the accidental revelation. Little do you know, Lizzie has been thinking that she is ready to share the good news about both of you dating. She plans to tell you this weekend. So this fortuitous confession doesn't really bother her. She perhaps got caught off guard by her own serendipitous divulgence but that's all.
She lets out her soothing contagious laugh, her cheeks slowly turning crimson. “Well, uh–okay. Since the cat is out of the bag, I will answer this specific question. Yes, Y/n and I are together. We have been together for a year and a half now and we are very very happy.” She proclaimed. The blonde laughs once again even deep down her anxiety creeps up slowly but the audience’s exhilarated reaction gives her the reassurance she needs, that people are okay with the news.
She fiddles with her ring again to quickly remind her of you and your smile.
“Wow! This is really unexpected and great news! I meant, all of us have been wondering about you and y/n. Dating or just friends. But we are happy that you are happy.” Jimmy expressed.
“Thank you. I’m sure if Y/n is here now, she will be all laughing because I accidentally spilled the tea.” Lizzie joked followed by her giggle.
“Well, where is she now?" Jimmy questions as he looks around and checks if you are around or backstage. “She is actually waiting for me at the lounge next door.” she stated.
“Oh! She’s five minutes away. I got an idea! Can we call her from here and ask her a question or two? Can we do that?” Jimmy looks at the actress then his gaze moves to the producer to ask both of them for their approval.
He gets the green light from the producer. “What do you say, Lizzie? Is she gonna get upset with our surprise?” He waits for her answer.
“Oh, she won’t get mad. It takes a lot for her to get upset and that’s what I adore from her so much. She will find it funny. So yeah, I can call her.” Lizzie confirms. “Okay, uh everybody needs to keep quiet so she can talk to her. Go ahead, Liz. Whenever you are ready.” Jimmy tries to hold his laugh after he requests some silence. With that, everybody went hushed.
Lizzie turns on the speaker phone. The dialing tone is the only sound that fills the studio. By the third tone, your voice is made to be heard as you answer the call. “Hi love.” Lizzie’s effort to hold her laugh mixed with her nervousness, falters her words. “Liz? Hello? Are you there?” You answer her one more time to check if she is there.
“Hello babe. Y-yeah. I’m here.”
“How did it go? Do you want me to pick you up now?” Your voice sounds clear from the other end of the line. You hear her laugh and like usual and it always makes you laugh too. “What’s so funny?” You wait for her answer.
Jimmy still gives sign language to tell everybody to keep it quiet. “Uh actually, I’m not done yet. I’m still with Jimmy right now.”
“Wait, what? Hold on, I’m confused. You are with JImmy but the interview is over or still on going?” You laugh despite the confusion you have in mind. "It's still going on. He asked me to call you."
"Well, hello there y/n! How dare you keep a secret from me this whole time!" Jimmy hinted. He
starts talking to you and lets out his joke then people start to laugh and clap.
"Oh hi Jimmy! Secret? What secret?" You start to think if this is about you and Lizzie but you ask anyway.
“Uh well, babe. Actually, he already knows. I accidentally told him in the interview.” Lizzie slowly tells you what happened followed with a little laugh.
“Oh?” That was all you said then this time you laugh the hardest thinking it was actually really funny. “Yes, y/n. I know. You both are great secret keepers.” Jimmy teases in a sing-song tone..
“Well, in my defense, I’m just following what the queen wants.” You return his tease jokingly.
“Oooh, she’s your queen?”
“Yes, she is, Jimmy.” You answer and you hear people react in awe all at once.
“What do you love most about her? Things that make you fall for her.” Jimmy sneaks a question for you. “I will be very cliche but I will say, everything. Everything about her that makes me fall for her. But mostly is her smile, her laughter and her big heart. She is the sweetest and the kindest person I know.” You answer him with nothing but the truth.
Meanwhile Lizzie, as she is holding her phone, she can’t stop smiling from everything you just said. “Awww, that is so sweet.” Your girlfriend reacts to your answer as her other hand try to fan herself
“It is.. Wow, y/n y/ln, I never thought you were such a romantic person. So, back to you, Lizzie. Same questions.”
“Well, like I said earlier, I really adore her patience. I feel like she is the only person I know that will almost never get angry or upset. She is very funny and always makes me laugh. She is a great listener and a very supportive girlfriend. I love her for everything she is.” Her eyes twinkled, her cheeks blush and her heart sends direct order to her face to patch the warmest smile with the thought of you. The sound of the applause exhilarates her feelings.
“Oh my god. You two make a very cute couple. We are really really glad that we finally get the answer about what's been going on between you two for years. Once again congratulations. Lizzie, y/n, I’m gonna have to talk to my producer so we can have another interview with both of you. Lizzie, thank you for coming and Y/n thank you for answering your girlfriend’s call and talking with us here. We’ll see you both soon.”
“Thank you for having us here, Jimmy.” Lizzie responds politely. With that, she also ends the call with you and you take that as your cue that it’s time to pick her up.
_____
You see her talking with the makeup artist. Hearing her laughter really makes you smile. You walk closer to her back and you gently tap her shoulder. She turns around and instantly smile at you.
"Hi!" Without waiting a single second, she hugs you right away. You return her hug and give a kiss on her cheek. "Hi, love." You pull back a little to look at her gorgeous green eyes.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry. It was an accident, I was thinking about you because my anxiety started to bother me. Then I didn't realize what I was saying about us became official–" Your girlfriend rambled with rows of explanations and guilt.
"Liz, it's okay. I don't mind if people know about us. I'm just worried about you. How are you feeling after what happened? You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm happy that finally people know about us. I was actually going to tell you that I'm ready and should let the media know about us." Her soft voice made its way to your ears. You are very content to hear that your girlfriend wants people to know about your relationship. Joy bubbles up in you, warmth wraps your heart.
"Really? That's great to hear, Liz. Well, at least no more sneaking around behind the paparazzi." Both of you giggle from what you just said. You hug her once more before you say more.
"Let’s go home. Ready?" You whispered and smiled.
Lizzie's warm hand takes yours and her head nods at the same time. Both of you are ready to go, walking towards the exit. Lizzie and you know that there will be a bunch of fans and paparazzi waiting outside.
As soon as you both walk out of the building, there are quite a lot of fans cheering and calling Lizzie’s name and they are surprised that you are there too, holding hands with Lizzie. They sound a lot more excited after they see both of you.
Your girlfriend stops her steps and waves at them. Flashes from cameras keep popping like fireworks. Before both of you proceed to walk further, you hear her call your name. As soon as you turn your head, Lizzie gives a quick peck on your lips that quickly curves a smile for her. “Now, I can kiss you whenever and wherever I want.” She whispers. You can’t help yourself, let out a little laugh. Then both of you walk further to the valet service to get your car.
Although people find out about your relationship in a funny unexpected way, both of you are relieved and happy about it because both of you always wanted the world to know how much you love each other.
A/n: Welp, that's it for today, peeps! Reblog and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next fluff!
Cheerio!
Taglist: @madamevirgo @musicinourlips @unstable-sapphic-hoe @fanboy7794 @chloe7076 @b0mbdotc0m @trikruismybitch @ichala @californianwhiterabbit @honey-sweet-hiraeth @imfuckinggenius @sxfwap @chaekhan @daenerys713 @luvmcgrath @stupidsapphicsstuff @pattypavo @frvny @franfineashell @heyyoweveryone @ygtft-chen @yaaskasey @sweeet-likeeee-cinnamonn @paumxmff @dopeyouth @beaniejennie @ineedafinghug @idkwhatimwriting @lucydiibi @mainly-rebloging-fics-i-like @gloriousfoxruins @grxvitye @mcubreakdown101 @aos22 @wandanatstan @paulawand @yeeterthekeeper @femalehomosexual666 @snowdrop1026 @modernmonalisa @nothingisrealanyway @idamaemann @sweeterlust @royalityofmultifandom @playboysaleen @peabrain112 @gwhaley127 @harleyswanda @bodhi-j @darth-rain @cristin-rjd ,
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Got tagged by @somewhereapart, and I figured y'all may be sick of seeing me just post fic so here ya go.
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
88
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
305,612
3. What fandoms do you write for?
AO3 tells me I've written for Battlestar Galactica, Buffy, General Hospital, Law & Order: SVU, Law & Order: OC, Lie To Me, Stargate: Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, and The West Wing. And I honestly can't think of any others outside of just ficlets I've tossed into the wild over the years.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Flinktober 2022 (EO, SVU/OC)
i remember skies (EO, SVU/OC)
gala (EO, SVU/OC)
bizarre love triangle (EO, SVU/OC)
Chautauqua (EO, SVU/OC)
I did not include one that was cowritten with a bunch of other people because I will always assume the kudos are for them.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
As often as possible. If someone takes the time to comment, I want them to know that i care enough to acknowledge and thank them for that kindness and effort. Especially when I write mostly for a fandom where I've seen people specifically state that they will read works but NOT comment on them as some sort of punishment for whatever random/imaginary fandom sins the writer whose free content they are enjoying has committed. That's just dumb and unkind, so I make the effort to let people know their comments are appreciated, even if it takes weeks to circle back.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Hmmm. There are several chapters in the first flink posting that would qualify, but I'm going to go with my largest Sam/Jack (SG-1) fic, Gravity Sings. It's hard to pretend it's not angsty when you've literally killed off half the planet.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Hmm. Not really sure. I'm a sucker for fluffy endings, so I tend to write them quite a bit. Maybe waltz or Chautauqua?
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Occasionally, but I shut it down quickly. If you come up in someone's space where someone is providing you free entertainment and be rude? Don't expect a pass from me about it. The scroll bar isn't difficult to use, and neither is the back button. I use it frequently on poorly-written works or things that may be well-written but just aren't my thing. What I don't do is sling entitlement issues around demanding things be written to my satisfaction (unless you employ my beta services, in which case, you asked for it!). :D
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I never really did prior to the first flink experiment, and I created that experiment purely to practice writing smut. Well, I take that back. @rgrdsalxndra would be the first to remind me I'd often cockblock Elliot and Olivia by having them dream-smutting without real-life release. But I started that project with the express purpose of getting better and more comfortable with writing smut, so I'm making that the hinge point.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
Because SVU and OC are different shows, I write them regularly. But if you mean out-of-universe crossovers, I've only really written one, R.E.M. (SGA, BSG, Buffy). It was based on a prompt from an LJ friend, "Elizabeth Weir, Kara Thrace, and Buffy Summers walk into a bar..."
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I'm aware. There are much better people out there to steal from. Also, I always assume if something is similar to what I've written, it's because fandom truly does become a hivemind at some point. Nothing new under the sun and all.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I'm aware. If I had to guess, I'd say Gravity Sings would be the most likely candidate since SG-1 fandom is probably the most global and that fic has been around much longer than any other likely candidates.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Wrote Wet Dream with much better smut writers than myself in a group chat, and a bunch of us in SG-1 fandom way back in the day once built an SG-1 AU loosely based on The Big Bang Theory called The House That Jack Built, and I have several entries in that little universe.
14. What's your all-time favorite ship?
How does anyone pick this??? I love them all for different reasons. I will say EO has a grip on me nobody else ever has, but then they have that 25 year slow burn that is just absolutely and sickly delicious.
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Glazed and Fired (SGA) was originally the first part of a 5 Things fic that got away from me, and I had always intended to go back and finish it but eventually just put it away for good. I fully intend to finish my others (Skies, I'm looking at you).
16. What are your writing strengths?
Grammar. Economy of language (this is also sometimes a weakness). Getting into the head of characters who are typically very closed off.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I feel my writing is way too mechanical. I'm also still not comfortable writing smut. I always walk around with a sense of imposter syndrome with my writing.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I'm literally one class shy of a degree in French, and I had to write many upper level term papers in that language, but let me assure you I have zero plans to ever write in another language. I sincerely applaud those of you who do.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Stargate SG-1
20. Favorite fic you've ever written?
Geez. It probably changes regularly, and I'm hesitant to say because my faves are never anyone else's. all i ever wanted (a rather dark Elliot-centric fic) holds a very dear spot in my heart just because of how my muse just grabbed a keyboard and churned it out. This is not a popular opinion, and hardly anyone read it, but I still love it a lot. And just because it was the first fic I wrote that was widely recc'd, I have a soft spot for Things Not Dreamed (SG-1), a Sam & Jack & Daniel fic written from Daniel's POV.
tagging in a no-pressure way (and sorry for any double tags):
@morethanwords229, @whatbecomesofyou, @samwrites99, @rgrdsalxndra, @shut-upjohn, and anyone else who wants to do it!
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I'm so curious what is your writing process like? I'm floored by how fast you write yet the quality is always sososo high. Do you have a beta? Are you a god? What..how..😱
Please get some sleep
Ahhhh Hi Bestie!
Um you're so sweet???? This is so nice??? Thank you so much??????
TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION
....probably don't fully approach writing like I do if you're trying to write because I approach it like a trash goblin in a human suit trying to make things BUT here's what I do!
When I get the idea for a story (fan fic, novel, screenplay, whatever) it usually comes character first. There's someone who intrigues the hell out of me whose story I want to write and then I just have to figure out what their story is. The second part usually comes pretty quick, at least one or two major story moments and the climax and the resolution at least. Then I think through how to get them there and what kind of journey is going to be the most impactful for them. Then I write that down in the form of a story map where I lay things out beat by beat (these notes are usually very vague, like 2 or 3 words per chapter, my vision is far from fully realized) and then write down some basic stuff about the main characters. Actually write it, too, I've got a real cute lil' notebook that I have my story notes and any poems I've written lately (and my D&D notes) in it and I carry it around everywhere when my brain is feeling particularly creative.
This is where the trash goblin takes over because then I just write it. The story map is pretty fluid, I don't think I've ever stuck to one entirely, it always shifts and changes depending on what I get up to narratively. Sometimes that's just story beats stretch longer than I thought so they span several chapters instead of one, sometimes I change my mind on something altogether (like in Yearling, the stable incident with Simon was originally something else entirely but I was like "wait no that doesn't make as much sense, this feels convoluted, doing something else now" and took place in a slightly different spot). When I'm writing, I kind of picture what happens in my head like I'm watching a movie. The characters have their conversations, I write those down, describe how they're feeling, what stuff looks like, etc. The downside to this is the movie of this shit is literally ALWAYS ON in my head and will NOT go away until I write it. The angst that's coming in Yearling? Been playing in my head on a loop for weeks. IT'S DRIVING ME INSANE SEND HELP.
Once I get a chapter done, I give it a quick read mostly for grammar and stuff and to make sure it flows right (and there aren't a bunch of repeated words and stuff - I was a copy editor previously in my career but copy editing your own stuff is tricky so this is a questionable process) and then I post it. No betas, no editors besides myself, generally very little rewrites (I'll rewrite a chunk of a chapter once every like 20 chapters or so, it's rare.) I just throw all these words on the page and then hurl them at y'all and you're kind enough to make super sweet comments like this!
I'm so happy you think my work is high quality and written quickly!! I think I've finally adjusted from the schedule I was keeping for Lavender so it no longer feels like I'm slacking only putting out 2-3 chapters a week but it still doesn't feel like I'm quick lol so thank you for that, too!
And as far as the sleep goes? You saw nothing, definitely not me posting at 3 a.m., don't tell my therapist, everything is fine here.
JK I'm largely just fine! I've always been a night owl and function fine as long as I get a total of 6 hours of sleep, even if that's between a nap and an overnight sleep. It's probably not the best but eh, I'm having fun.
Thank you again for reading and for being so kind!! So happy you're here. Love you!!
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A Difficult Topic To Broach
Broach (v): To raise a sensitive or difficult subject for discussion.
In which the Rito and the Hylian have a long overdue talk.
Story's under the readmore! And it's a long one, longest I've probably ever written! Enjoy the wall of text, y'all :'D
~~~
Revali could count on one wing all the times he'd been this nervous.
His first archery competition. His first flight race. The first time another Rito showed romantic interest in him. That time he challenged his endurance by flying nonstop for several hours, followed by him crash-landing on Satori Mountain and meeting the mountain's Lord face-to-face, ending with him shrieking in pure terror as he ran away.
But this… this was something else entirely. It wasn't his pride nor his life on the line, merely his heart.
It had been several weeks since he retrieved that accursed mask from the aforementioned mountain. Several weeks of replaying everything in his head, searching for any signs of deceit or truth, and giving himself a headache from his indecisiveness. Several weeks of lying awake at night with the mask in his arms, refusing to admit that he wished the mask's owner was there with him, to have those long-winded talks he'd grown so fond of.
Several weeks of avoiding the Hylian that caused all this, either hiding out of reach on Medoh or staying out of sight as much as possible when grounded by the other Champions as a group. Daruk and Mipha ended up having Revali as both backup and a sparring partner more often, not that either of them showed any complaints. If anything, Daruk in particular was overjoyed, assuming that their normally standoffish Rito ally was finally coming out of his shell. Rather than deny it, Revali for once held his tongue, letting the loud Goron think whatever he pleased.
The proud back "pats" he could do without, though.
And Urbosa? Revali never liked it when she tried lecturing him, or gave him that look that said 'I can read you like a book.' But it seemed as though this time she was just as in dark as everyone else, only commenting on Revali's shift in behavior a few times before moving on to more important matters, like the Princess' wellbeing, along with her knight's.
Speaking of that little knight…
Revali's rage over "the incident" had mostly died down, enough for him to stomach seeing the Hylian or hearing the other man's name without sneering. The knight in question didn't seem to make any effort to seek Revali out as far as he could tell, though whether it was because of guilt or indifference remained unclear. Revali's first instinct was to assume the latter; that the other boy was back to being his unemotive, uncaring, placid-faced self after his little stunt.
But those dark circles under his eyes, the signs of neglect in his hair, his ears somehow drooping even more than they already do, the overall faded complexion he'd displayed since that fateful night…
No one would take an act that far… would they?
If he truly wished to “toy” with you as you say, would he have bothered to reveal his true self at all?
That was the question Medoh probed Revali with, one he couldn't answer. Because truthfully, he was afraid.
Afraid that everything he assumed was right. That the perfect Rito, the perfect person he was able to form a meaningful connection with, was nothing more than a wicked, heartless lie.
Just this once, he wanted to be wrong.
~~~
Asking the Hylian to meet him alone was not easy.
Something always got in the way. A new monster to fight, a Yiga ambush, the knight just not being left alone for even one damn minute. For all of Zelda's efforts to get away from her appointed knight, he always found a way to keep her in his line of sight. And when she wasn't around, someone else was. From Mipha healing his wounds, to Urbosa dragging him off for sparring or lectures or Medli knows what else, to Daruk challenging his "brother" to random tests of strength. All in an effort to "get the little guy out of his funk!" in the big lug's own words.
Regardless of his "funk" being real or not, Revali had to give the Hylian credit where it was due; enduring such a complete lack of personal space for weeks on end wasn't something just anyone could do. Not without snapping, anyway. Revali would've undoubtedly started pecking at someone or plucking his own feathers by now if he were in the Hylian's talons. Er, shoes.
Was this the reason why he only appeared as a Rito at night, then? Because that was the only free time he actually had? And he chose to spend it with—
Revali forced the faint traces of hope in his heart back down. It was too soon for things like that. That was another thing Medoh told him: to not take his first guess and run with it. The ancient bird really was trying to act like a mentor of sorts, turning this into one giant "lesson" for Revali to learn.
The timing could've been better on her end. Maybe when Revali's ability to trust others wasn't in danger, perhaps? Just throwing it out there.
Now, with all these obstacles in place, simply waiting until nightfall was obviously the correct option, right? Oh, how he wished.
Even on the nights where he wasn't too tired to think clearly, all it would take is one glance at the Hylian and Revali's nerves would fly right out the window. He gave himself excuse after excuse; it's too soon, I don't know what to say, the others will hear us, he'll humiliate me. But the topic needed to be broached, whether Revali liked it or not.
It was either that or suffer in silence forever.
So with a heavy wing and pounding heart, he reached out and grabbed the Hylian's shoulder, stopping both of them from following everyone to the Highland Stable. He ignored the way the other man nearly flinched as he leaned in from behind, his beak barely brushing against a silver-pierced ear.
"We need to talk." He whispered urgently, "Meet me in Faron Woods. Tonight."
The burgundy-haired boy hesitated before nodding, not even turning to meet Revali's eyes. In a way, Revali was grateful; he felt like he would've cracked under the stress if he had to look at those darkened purple irises again. He pulled his wing away as though he'd been burned and continued onward, leaving the knight behind.
He kept walking, even passing the princess and other Champions, eyes firmly locked on his own talons.
He didn't look back, not even when several voices called his name in concern.
~~~
Night had come much sooner than Revali would've wanted.
The sky was clear, both the stars and rising moon were in perfect view, so Revali had no need to worry about getting lost in the dark due to his damned lack of night vision. Under any other circumstance, the moonlight streaking through the trees would've been a lovely sight, but it currently failed to ease his racing mind.
As he walked (he didn't run, shut up) across Fural Plain towards the woods, Revali made the choice to wait by the entrance instead of going inside. This way, he could keep an eye out for when the man in question showed up. The last thing he wanted was to be left sitting in the woods alone like some fool.
He already made a fool of me once, no reason to let him dig the knife in.
Enough of that, Revali.
Revali nearly set off his gale in a panic. Medoh?! Gods, I told you to stop scaring me like that!!
My apologies. But my point still stands, you must stop that nonsense.
What are you talking about?
Clinging to your assumptions. You are doing it again. Medoh paused, as if sighing. And you were doing so well earlier…
Revali scoffed. I don't recall asking for your approval.
Perhaps you did not, but I will express it anyway. Medoh wasn't capable of chuckling, but Revali could practically hear it regardless. You were indeed doing well before. And it is clear that you are trying to do well now. I am glad to see that you took my words to heart.
Revali growled under his breath as he smoothed down his feathers. …Thanks.
Hm? I detect a note of… what was it again… sarcasm? Are you being sarcastic with me?
Don't give me that, you know what sarcasm is, Medoh.
Yes, yes, I am well aware. I was simply trying to calm you down with our usual banter. Medoh's tone suddenly turned to faint concern. Your mind is filled with troubled thoughts…
Revali didn't reply, his crest drooping as he looked down. He leaned against a tree and hugged himself, despite there being no chill in the air.
Are you alright?
Alright? Revali's eyes burned, How could I possibly be alright? My heart could be shattered to pieces by sunrise. How do you expect me to feel?
So you decided to confront him after all?
Aren't you literally in my head all the time?
Medoh paused again before answering, her tone switching back to that of a consultant. Revali… I understand that you are fearing the worst. But I believe that you are… how to put it… overprepared.
Revali raised a brow. What?
You have made yourself aware of the worst possible outcome. Which is, again, understandable. But in the process, you are convincing yourself that the worst result is the only one you will get. Have you forgotten what I said before?
Revali sighed. No… I haven't. But what if…
…Yes?
What if… Revali gulped, his heart picking up speed once more. What if he really is sorry? What then?
Medoh made a confused trill. I do not understand your question.
If he really was just using me, at least then I know what I'll do; hate him for all eternity, never forgive him, and never give him the time of day again. But… If he wasn't, then… Revali trailed off, reluctant to finish the thought.
I do not have the answer to that. What happens next between the two of you is for you both to decide.
Yeah… Revali sighed, I figured you wouldn't. He looked up, gazing toward the distant stable. I know he agreed to come, but…
I am not nearby, so I cannot see him. Nor can I currently see him through your eyes. But the night is young, and you left rather early.
That much was true. Revali had opted to leave for the forest as soon as he'd finished eating that evening. Everyone (minus Mipha and Daruk, who ate their own fill of fish and rocks respectively) had carrot soup this time, but sadly they weren't the godly Kakariko carrots, so he couldn't distract himself with a delicious meal. All he could do was eat quietly while the others talked, and steal glances at the Hylian when no one else was watching.
He has a name, you know.
Oh, shut it.
Yet another preparation, perhaps? Teaching yourself to stop addressing him by name in case the worst comes to pass?
Revali felt himself flush under his feathers, mostly out of anger than embarrassment over the beast's correct guess. Shut up!
You are better off waiting until after your suspicions are confirmed or denied before you try something like this. You have been refusing to call him by name for weeks now.
If he really is as cruel as any other Hylian, then I don't even want to think about his name, let alone utter it. Is that a crime now?
It is if you are doing it before you talk to him. Must you be so dramatic?
It's not dramatic! If he saw no reason to treat me with respect then I don't—
Honestly, Revali… Medoh cut him off, It would not kill you to hold off on your judgement a moment longer. Now be still and hold your tongue. Revali's vision suddenly gained a faint blue hue. The Divine Beast was using his eyes.
The stable. Look again.
Revali did as he was told, but wasn't sure what he was looking for. The blue of Medoh's presence made everything blend together. …What? What is it?
…He is coming. It would seem that much like you, he has no intentions of wasting time.
Wait, what-?! Revali's feathers puffed in alarm. He shook his head and blinked several times, willing Medoh's vision away. Sure enough, there he was, walking down the path towards the now-panicking Rito. His head was down, so Revali couldn't see his face, just locks of burgundy that were much duller than they should've been, even under moonlight.
His time was running out.
No no no no no, not now! Revali hid behind a tree, hoping his feathers would blend in with the foliage. How long has he-? I don't even know what I'll-! He grabbed at his frazzled crest, Medoh, help me out here!! What do I do-?!
As I said before, what happens next depends on you. Both of you, and no one else. I refuse to interfere.
You couldn't give me a better warning, at least-?! Revali mentally yelled as he frantically smoothed down his feathers.
Calm yourself. Be patient and listen to his defense. Once all has been said, then you may pass your judgement. And not a moment sooner. Do you understand?
I… I…
Do you understand, Revali?
Revali's eyes started to burn, and he shut them tight. After a moment's hesitation, he finally relented. …Yes. I understand.
Good. I will leave you to settle this mess. Do not do anything rash, and do not act as though woe is all that betides you.
Was Medoh really about to just leave him to fend for himself here?? Sure, he never asked for Medoh's assistance in this matter, or any matter at all before, but him not asking never stopped her from meddling anyway!
I wish you the best of luck, my Champion. And with that, Medoh's presence was gone.
Of all the times to leave him alone… why now? It felt like Medoh had just thrown him to the wolves. Damned beast!!
All Revali could do was curl his hands into fists as he tried to force himself to calm down. Keep a straight face. Don't let the Hylian know that his will was unsteady. He had to be firm and direct, like always. He could do this. He had to do this. He—
…was cut off by the sound of someone gasping under their breath.
Oh dear Zephos and Cyclos, he couldn't do this.
Revali looked over his shoulder, and there he was, just a couple feet away.
He felt a brief chill as he stared into those pupilless purple eyes. Eyes that once shone with a light pink glow, eyes that once made him feel a number of different things. They were still rimmed with dark circles, implying that the Hylian either became a night owl from doing gods know what after dark, or he simply wasn't sleeping well.
Revali was afraid to find out the answer. But he already knew that through the conversation they were about to have, he'd get that answer anyway.
At Revali's lack of a reply, the Hylian ducked his head again, looking down at the ground. He raised it back up when Revali cleared his throat.
"Well, it's… good to know that you're punctual." Gods, even that was hard to say. He turned his back, waving the other over with a wing. "Follow me."
He heard footsteps following behind him, and that was enough for now.
~~~
Faron Woods was bigger than it looked on a map.
And in a way, that was a good thing. It meant that when Revali found a decent spot to sit, the view was lovely without looking too cramped or foreboding. The trees overhead provided cover, but still let streaks of blue light through, making even the leaves resemble sapphires. It was a scene worth painting, or taking a picture with the Sheikah Slate.
If things went well, Revali could look back on this clearing fondly. But if they didn't…
His feathers ruffled at the idea. Ignoring the urge to smooth them back down again, he glanced over at the Hy-
You are better off waiting until after your suspicions are confirmed or denied before you try something like this.
…at Dalex, who quickly turned away from him. Even under the shade of the trees, Revali could still see how disheveled he was. He was almost tempted to call this little meeting off and send Dalex back to the stable to rest. But it was too late to turn back; they were already here, and if Revali forced himself to delay this once more, he doubted he'd ever be able to fully shake off the shame.
Revali is many things, but a coward is not, nor shall it ever be, one of them.
He crossed his arms and braced himself. "You… you know exactly why I asked you to come here. Don't you." It was a statement, not a question.
Dalex's ears twitched as he nodded. His silence didn't sit well with Revali.
"You can't nod your way out of this. You and I both know that you can talk." If he looked away as soon as Dalex flinched, then it didn't happen, right?
Be patient. Do not do anything rash.
Revali sighed, "For the last few weeks, I've… been thinking about what I'd say to you. About… that." He couldn't hide the anger in his voice, only lower it. "I thought I'd have everything worked out, like I always do. But… I don't."
Dalex said nothing, the only indication that he was still listening being the twitching of his ears.
"You…" He crossed his arms, "We both know what you did. I don't see any need to waste time pointing it all out." And if he did so, he'd either crack or succumb to rage, and he wasn't about to do either.
Yet again, Dalex said nothing, but his ears drooped impossibly lower.
"There… ever since you… 'revealed' yourself to me, there've been nothing but questions running through my head. So many questions. And every time I thought about asking you, I just…" He squeezed his arms, willing his feathers not to ruffle. Now was not the time for that.
At the third lack of a reply, Revali felt his patience wane. They'll be sitting here til dawn at this rate.
"I'd like you to look me in the eye when I'm speaking to you, Sta-… Dalex." His crest lowered at the near slip-up.
He felt a wave of regret when Dalex finally did look at him. A light breeze had tousled the bangs that normally covered half of Dalex's face, revealing the right side that was hidden from everyone despite looking just as normal as the left.
He looks so exhausted…
If Revali was wrong in the end, that sight wouldn't be leaving his memories any time soon.
"I suppose I will just say it, then…" His beak hung open, piles of questions forming in his throat as though they were at war over which one could come out first. In the end, he settled on the one that was there the longest:
"Why did you pretend to be the Sta-… him?"
Dalex blinked, clearly expecting something else. For Revali to yell again, perhaps? Like he did that night? Part of him wanted to. But just asking that one question took all the anger out of him, leaving nothing but hollow longing.
You were at your happiest when you were with him. If the way he acted as the Starling had any hint of truth, then I want you to be able to see that.
Revali didn't need night vision to see the hints of reluctance in Dalex's eyes. "I won't yell, or scream, or cut you off, none of that. I want to hear what you have to say."
Listen to his defense. Once all has been said, then you may pass your judgement. And not a moment sooner.
He saw Dalex's mouth twitch, and he bowed his head. "…Please."
He heard Dalex take a deep breath, and then…
"I… I just wanted a break."
Revali raised his head, confused. A… break? "From what?"
"Everything." Dalex's shoulders fell, and his breath hitched. "I've been training to be the Legendary Hero for so long… I couldn't do anything but train, no one would allow me to do anything else. Not when Ganon could show up at any time and destroy everything. I had to follow Her Highness everywhere she went, even if she hated my guts and wanted nothing to do with me. I have to listen to other knights acting like jealous little pricks because I got the Master Sword and they didn't."
Revali winced at that last statement, but thankfully Dalex had already covered his face with his hand.
"Everyone looks at me like I'm either a god amongst men that will save them all or the bane of their existence, and I just-" He stopped, his whole body shuddering. "…Do you remember what I said at Warbler's Nest?"
He most certainly did. How could he forget?
"My life had barely gotten started and I already had to give it up. I couldn't say no; my-… what I had to do, what I still have to do is too important. Is… is it wrong if I'm upset about it…?"
Revali told him otherwise that night… He held the Sta- Dalex's wing in his own and told him that it wasn't fair.
"If I were in your wings, I’d be completely furious.”
"All this time, I never got the chance to do anything unless I had a reason, a damn good one at that. If it wasn't necessary for my role as the Hero, then I couldn't do it. I wasn't… I'm not supposed to be anything but the Hero."
Were… were Revali's ears tricking him or did he just hear a sniffle?
"I… have to be the Hero. I can't be anything else. Not until Ganon's gone. But I…" He pushed his bangs away, eyes now shining with unshed tears. "I was just so tired."
You look like you're still tired. Revali thought to himself. "That's why you used the mask?"
Dalex rubbed his eyes, nodding. "I didn't- I wasn't trying to… to quit, or anything, I'd never do that. I just, I just wanted to get away from it, for a little while."
"But… surely you've heard about those things before. Many have claimed that they'll curse those foolish enough to wear them." Revali personally didn't believe in such things, but he heard it through the grapevine plenty of times, especially near the end of autumn.
"Yeah… I know. That's what I said to the guy that gave me the mask in the first place." A tear fell before he could stop it, and Revali felt a chill run down his spine at the hero's admission. "But… but that first night, I just kept thinking about everything. About my duty, about Her Highness, about Ganon, about y-…"
About… me? Revali's heart fluttered, and he couldn't fathom why.
"I couldn't… I couldn't handle it anymore. I put it on, turned into- into him, and…"
"…Bumped into me." Revali finished. He remembered that night clearly as well. He never thought a Rito could be so clumsy, crashing into him just as he reached his favorite landing. That could've been the only time they ever interacted, but… "…Why spend your 'break' with me, then?"
Dalex made a choked noise, like he was holding back a sob.
"We both know that I've made my… opinions on your status as the Hero very clear. By all means, you should've wanted to avoid me as much as the princess avoids you. Yet you sought out my company above anyone else's."
"I-I wasn't- I mean, I didn't-" Dalex stammered, rubbing his eyes. "I just thought… I thought that things would be different. If I didn't have that damn sword."
Revali tilted his head. "Different?"
Dalex suddenly glared, the tear streaks somehow making his expression even more intense. "Everything I said to you as… as him. Think about what those things were."
Revali was struck silent as memories rushed to the front of his mind, one after another.
"Revali, that was incredible! How're you able to hit so many bullseyes from so far away?!"
"I never thought your bow would have so much weight to it… you're stronger than you look!"
"You're really lucky you get to see your mom all the time… I can't wait to see mine again."
"You know, I was wondering… You've picked up a lot of blacksmithing know-how from your mom. More than I've ever heard, at least. What made you turn to archery, anyway?"
"Ugh, how can you stand carrots? They're awful! Wha- EWWW! Keep them away from me, you- you featherbrain!"
"I never thought there'd be so many uses for your feathers… You guys are like, masters at repurposing."
"Fly across the Gerudo Desert, huh… I never thought about what lay beyond all that sand… but if your dad came from somewhere out there, then yeah, there's gotta be something! It's not like Hyrule is the only place with life in it, after all!"
"Maybe the other Champions were blessed. That's all well and good, but… I have to agree with you, nothing can beat hard work to get where you need to be. And your Gale is… It's more than just a skill. It's literally the start of a whole new legacy for all the Rito."
And one memory in particular stood out amongst all the others:
"To be honest, Revali… I can't remember the last time I talked to someone about anything other than my-… my journey. How important it is, how 'honorable' and 'noble' it is… I'm sick of hearing that. I just want to talk about literally anything else, and… I can, with you. It… It's nice, is what I'm saying."
Dalex, the Legendary Hero, the Hylian Champion, the mightiest knight in all of Hyrule… had said those words right to Revali's face.
"Would you have believed me if I said them the way I am now?" At Revali's silence, Dalex chuckled. "Thought so… You know, hearing you actually have a problem with me being the Hero… it was refreshing, in a way."
"Wh-Refreshing?" Revali was taken aback, "I fail to see how-"
"You didn't like that I had the sword, yeah. But… you weren't a complete ass about it. You at least offered to let me prove myself to you a few times instead of moaning and groaning nonstop." Like that time he suggested they battle on Medoh's back, followed by him bailing from Dalex's lack of a response. Not one of Revali's better moments…
"And… I've seen the way you act when, uh, 'off duty,' I guess. 'Specially around kids. It's sweet."
Revali's feathers ruffled at the compliment. It was true, he'd been known to dote on the children back in Rito Village; offering archery lessons, cooking large meals to feed them in groups, telling stories of his battles against the more powerful monsters, and so on. He'd caught Dalex listening in only once, but that was apparently enough.
"But… whenever you spoke to me, it always came back to my title. That stupid sword. And I just…" Dalex sighed, rubbing his arm. "I thought that… maybe if I didn't have it, then I'd actually get to talk to you. I'd been wanting to, anyway…"
"Have you now…?" Something about that statement made Revali's heart beat just a little faster.
"And I did. And it was… probably some of, if not the best nights I've ever had in my life. I could finally be… me. I actually remembered how to do that, even after a decade of being the Hero." Dalex's smile fell as soon as it came. "But as time went by, and I got to know you more, I…"
"…You what?"
"I started to realize it- it still wasn't-" Dalex pinched his brow, struggling to find his words. "It still wasn't me. Not in your eyes. Could I really count as your friend when you didn't even know who I really was?" He stopped to sniffle before continuing, "That's… that's why I…"
"…You took off the mask in front of me." Revali finished for him.
Dalex nodded, crossing his arms. "You… you deserve a real friend. Someone that can actually speak to you without needing to hide behind a mask the whole time. When I realized what I was doing, I… I had to stop it. I was being selfish and I was hurting you and…" He stopped to take a breath, then raised his eyes to meet Revali's. "And I'm so sorry."
Had… Had Dalex ever apologized for this before? Revali couldn't remember; most of that night became a blur due to his heartbreak and rage. He wouldn't be surprised if his outburst prevented Dalex from doing just that.
Hearing it now, though… it felt real. Revali wanted it to be real, so badly.
"You… you don't have to worry about me using it anymore. The mask, I mean. I threw it away." Dalex briefly looked away to growl under his breath, "Whoever finds it can have it, for all I care…"
Now the former, Revali remembered hearing Dalex say, before Revali silenced him with a gale as he fled. And thanks to a little (er, big) birdy, Revali had undeniable proof that Dalex had completely abandoned the mask. It took a fair bit of strength to not admit that he knew already, and that said mask was now hidden away in his own home.
As for what Revali could say… was there anything? Dalex had said his piece, so…
Listen to his defense. Once all has been said, then you may pass your judgement.
"…I would say that I knew what to think about all of this… but frankly, I don't." He ran a wing through his crest, "If I hadn't blown up at you when I did, then maybe you would've said all this already. Maybe we'd already know where to go from here. Or have an idea, at least…"
Dalex fell silent once more, ears twitching at his words.
I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but… Medoh was right. I was too prepared. Now I don't know what to do.
"I… don't know if I forgive you yet. Or even at all." He didn't see Dalex wince. He didn't. "But… It doesn't seem like you're lying, at least."
He did see the stunned look cross Dalex's face. Once again, it looked as though he was expecting Revali to say something else. An accusation, perhaps? A blatant disregard of his reasons behind everything that's happened between them?
When Revali thought about it, Dalex hadn't so much as tried to beg or fish for forgiveness in the entire conversation… Was he preparing for the worst too? If he was, then that would mean he…
The possibility is there. You know this. That he truly felt remorse for hurting you so.
Revali rubbed his temples as he felt a headache come on. The constant mental back-and-forths haven't been doing him any favors these past few weeks. He was so tired…
"Are… are you alright?" Revali heard the concern in Dalex's voice, and waved it off with a wing.
"I'm fine." Without giving Dalex a chance to reply, he started to stand. "…We should head back."
It was an abrupt end, Revali knew this. And he was pretty sure that they'd have to talk about this a bit more before Revali could make a decision. But again, he was tired. This whole conversation was probably the most exhausting thing he'd experienced in weeks, and all he'd mostly done was sit and listen. At this point, he just wanted to curl up in a cheap stable bed and sleep.
He was so tired, in fact, that he didn't even think twice about offering his wing to Dalex, who took it without uttering another word. Nothing was said when he gave that smaller hand a mild squeeze, and nothing was said when he held onto it, only letting go once they exited Faron Woods.
It wasn't the wing Revali held at Warbler's Nest all those nights ago. Not even close.
But… it still felt the same.
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I want to rant a little so before y'all attack me I ship Elucien so pls chill the f out. As always my problem is the fans (AND NOT ALL OF THEM). And if you don't agree with any of this please be respectful or just unfollow or block me, I'm not looking for an argument :)
The hate Feysand or IC gets from different sides of the fandom is funny to me. When they don't want to blame their favorite character, they put it on IC. And I'm specifically want to talk about Eluciens.
It's a little long so ->
Idk what's their problem and I certainly don't want to know (I didn't even know there was a problem but apparently is) but I found this out unwillingly when Tumblr thinks I would enjoy these kind of posts or when people don't know how to tag properly lol
So it seems Eluciens have problem with IC because they don't let them communicate without being watched and if they leave them alone they'll be getting along instantly...
First of all have y'all forget the fact that they have been alone? After the war Feyre specially leaves them alone and let them talk. No one watches and there's no one there to make them uncomfortable. And If I'm not wrong there is one other time before he leaves for the search of Vassa. My point is the times they've been watched, was because IC didn't trust Lucien not because they have problem with his bond with Elain. The bond is sacred to them, they'll never have any problem with that trust me.
So the fact that you don't take into account that maybe Elain is really not ready to be with Lucien is beyond me. That you take away her agency and turn it into someone else's fault.
You don't want to accept that Elain just had a messy break up, she still mourns her human life, she's somewhere she doesn't belong to and is utterly lost. You want to completely forget that and blame it on IC while they're their biggest supporters.
I'm pointing out to Morrigan, Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian and maybe Nesta (after acosf)
Morrigan who's power is truth and asked Feyre to let them figures it out themselves even tho Feyre was trying to get them to talk to each other. She asked Feyre to not interfere even tho her intentions were good.
When Rhysand stopped Az because he knew there's no thoughts behind his actions. And when he didn't answer him about Mor or when he questioned the Cauldron he instantly had to stop it. (Probably because Tam/in said something similar about his bond with Feyre and he saw his brother is turning to someone he hates.) And while I didn't like the fact that he kinda decided for Elain, he also didn't know what she really wants but whatever it is he turns the events in favor of Lucien and Elain or let's say somewhere with less heart break. He wants them to at least have one chance before they do anything else. Because let's be honest if Rhys knew Az and Elain would've been happy together and Azriel would genuinely love her, he wouldn't have brought all those political reason as to why they can't be together. He would've find a way to make it happen. Rhysand is the person who wants for his family to get to their HEA. So it's completely obvious to me that he wanted to give Az reasons as to not think with his d*ck as always.
And they love LOVE to bash Feyre for even commenting on Cauldron being wrong. Listen so here's the thing: Sjm wanted to bring this question as a way to show that her mates are never wrong, they're suited for each other and 90% endgame. And since the first 3.5 books are 1st person and its Feyre's story, it had to be questioned by Feyre. This was an author's choice and not Feyre genuinely believing that. And it was a question that leads to Rhysand explaining how untrue it is. It was just a way for Sjm to show her mates are not wrong for each other. Feyre wasn't forcing this idea at all. She's new to all of this even tho she's been living with them for a couple of years. Compare to everyone else who has been born fae. She has the right to question things. (And they always come up with this question: what if someone question Feyre's bond with Rhys wouldn't she get mad? Um... No. Because she's seeing and experiencing the result of accepting the bond and it has clearly worked out for her. And beside being mates, she loves him. Being mated was a bonus point for them. So she probably wouldn't care if Cauldron was wrong. The mating bond isn't the only reason they're together. One day I'll write a post about the mating bond and why I think it can't be wrong but that's for another time.)
And Cassian is on board with them because he, like Feyre and Rhysand, knows how it's like to be with your mate. And we see him looking at Lucien with pity. And he also notices that night court is definitely not for Elain.
And Nesta literally said this in hofas:
“I’ve been in the Fae realms long enough to know that there are forces that sometimes guide us, push us along. I’ve learned to let them. And to listen.”
... I MEAN, I MEAN!!! *read it in timothée chalamet voice*
In acosf she called Elain out on her behavior. So you see, everyone is somehow rooting for Elucien and want them to at least give it a chance.
I said all this to prove that IC shouldn't be blamed while Elain (and maybe even Lucien we've never read either povs) don't want to take a step toward each other--for now. I guess it's just easier to blame IC for something that's literally not their fault. Everything they did after Lucien came into Velaris was understandable. They didn't trust him and he proved his somewhat loyalty to them or at the very least to Elain. And this was back in acowar so things has changed!!! But let's not forget that in the last winter solstice, Elain sat furthest from Lucien and it was her choice!! Her not giving Lucien a chance (yet) is her choice. Not wanting to be alone with him is her choice, please try to understand.
Still holding a grudge when circumstances has changed after acowar is just petty imo...
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Get to Know Me
__________________________________
A LIKKLE CHAT CHAT WITH THE ONE & ONLY
P E T R ÏI C E
{petrïice}
Hey Everyone, I'm so excited to meet you all! This a long time coming and though I'm bubbling with joy at discovering this app; let me properly introduce myself first.
💜 💜
My name is Petrice. I am 20 yrs old with a strong background in the arts. I've majored in vocal music, singing for as long as I can remember. Always loved performing, whether it was playing out my own imagination with family and friends or sharing a stage with peers. However when I wrote I felt like I was emerged in a whole other world.
Writing is my chance to escape the human rituals of socialization, competition, and seek the most pure form of creativity. It's my mojo of getting in tune with my vulnerability, something I struggle with and currently working on. When you share words and spread thoughts and vital information together, a community is grown. You become connected with others like it's telepathically, I see words as a source of power.
So, I hope to use this powerful app and not only create my own world surrounded with you, a beautiful and unique community...but to share my passions and gifts and be encouraged along my upcoming journey.
Share this journey with me as I open up to you guys emotionally, visually, artistically, and so much more. I hope to share my aspirations as I learn to be independent and take action on my dreams, to inspire another black girl to embrace her true self whatever form it may be and be proud. Of our history, and reminding each other of our crowns.
We are royalty. No matter who you are, what you are, how you look like. You are beautiful. A King. A Queen. Naturally perfect. Flaws and all.
Asé.
I'm not sure where life is taking me, currently. However I am passionate in all I do. I will never give up ony dreams, even with as harsh adulthood can be. My last name used to be 'Robinson'. Hence growing through this "breaking out my cocoon" era of adulting changing from caterpillar to future butterfly, I name this page therobynnhood.
__________________________________
Game Time
And don't worry, we're gonna make this fun. Let's switch up the energy. I love a good game and I think this will be a great way of getting to know y'all and vice versa.
We will be playing...(drumroll please)
🥁 🥁 🥁
21 Questions!!!
Okay well for the sake of time and I'm sure we are all busy, really ten questions LOL!!!
Let's Begin, shall we??
*Knocking off first for five, for the bonus round y'all can still tag them tho*
1. Petrice Natalee Thompson
2. SCORPIOOOO (sun, moon, Leo rising)
3. Hmmm. Not sure. Okay for starters being a failure/disappointment. Being abandoned or given up on by someone I opened up to the most or want to be proud of me. My nightmares coming to life.
4. Carribean 🇯🇲 meals, poetry, DANCINGGG
5. Physical affection/warmth, bomb natural hairstyle, deep one-on-one talks, high movement activities (skating, track, exercise etc.). Anddddd sensual aesthetic
*5 more at random*
33. Single taken husband complicated lol.
25. OMGGGG YESSS. WITH THE POPO YALL IT WAS MESSY. (Storytime???🤭)
42. Emotional prayer with my aunt.
20. Their outer personality. How much they smile/ how external or internal they are. I love to observe a person first on their personality rather than immediate out side looks. But if we are talking about the outside, I like a warm neutral expression someone who seems interested or notice me first. Attract, not chase lol.
11. I miss having friends🫠. So guys y'all are my new besties now.
B O N U S R O U N D
GET TO KNOW ME TAGGGGG🤭😜
{now it's ur turn!!!!}
The Rules:
Tag a number and let me get a sneak peek into you. I'll answer it in return/tag you back in a repost. (please kindly comment any questions or concerns/feel free to reach out to me)
Now leggggooooooo
This is a safe space. No judgement. Be your self.
Welcome to therobynnhood.
-📖🗝️,
Petrice
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[ Red Velvet Reel AU - Character Profile ]
Name: Sans “Red” the Skeleton
Age: 30-ish
Species: Skeleton Monster
Pronouns: He/Him
Relationship: Single (?)
Occupation: “Economic Officer” at the Monster Embassy
Family: “Boss” Edge (Younger Brother), “Honey” Stretch (Brother-in-Law), “Baby Blue” Blue (Brother-in-Law), “Brat” ‘Pancake’ (Nibling/Sobrino)
Background: Originally from Underfell, Red moved into Underswap permanently with Edge at the same time. Initially, Red stayed in Stretch and Edge’s apartment as both Fell brothers adjusted to Underswap, but moved out an indeterminate time ago. He currently lives with Blue in a rowhouse complex with a lot of other monsters.
Design Notes:
*Wears a variety of large rings, some with fake jewels, that double as brass knuckles.
*Jacket is a safety blanket of sorts- regardless of the weather, he always wears it. Unsure if its ever been washed.
*Wears a guayabera under his jacket, and there’s always something in every single pocket. Prefers more unusual, dark colors, but will also wear white or pastels.
*Velcro sneakers have a very strong steel-toe.
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throne and paradise endings, answering questions from inbox, my goodbye :)
it's been a year since i stopped writing throne and paradise, and all copies (save for ao3 which has been orphaned) have been taken down, so i've come alive here just to give you lovelies one last thing:
throne: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23801650?view_full_work=true
paradise: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23802184?view_full_work=true
final chapters: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1qVmqPV7zzQUNFTCzM9-AeA_hpRVex0CwxDKyFhAD2C0/edit?usp=drivesdk
these are the links to the unfinished ao3 versions of throne and paradise, and the doc is to the final chapters :)) whilst it's obviously not up to my standards and i didn't want to even write the endings because i wanted to leave it all behind, i felt bad since i was two chapters away from the end and didn't leave you guys with any closure from the ending that i'd been building up towards the whole way through. the endings were announced on wattpad (where i offered to give them to anyone who wanted them through dms) but i figured i'd drop it here since a lot of my ao3 fans were tumblr hoes too. i probably should've shown it to you guys earlier but i'm a bit of a coward :)) i literally deleted tumblr and logged out of my account because i was so scared to be back here after what happened LOL well anyways, i hope you enjoy the shitty endings. there's a side stories doc linked in the final chapters one so if you feel like sitting down and reading like 17k of paraathy post-paradise or claudiana, go for it :))
just saying, thanks to everyone who left so many sweet messages in my inbox :)) there were a bunch of questions asking about the deleted/unfinished works, and there were a lot of encouraging comments that honestly, definitely helped for me to gain some kind of confidence to come on here again as toisiit.
i don't mind talking about throne/paradise/whatever if you want to scream about the endings to me and how y'all knew where i was going with it, so feel free to spam me in my dms slash wherever you can find me lol
just a quick little q&a session here since i'm too lazy to respond to each question from my anon inbox individually:
will you ever repost "cripple"?
nope, i've got no intentions to since in the end, i didn't have an actual structure planned out. if you want a brief
Why can't I see any of your ao3 stories from your profile?
again, that's explained up above but i ended up orphaning them to get rid of all traces and links back to me lol i was sick and tired of it. now, i regret it and wish i'd just gone anon instead of ORPHANING THE FUCKING WORKS AND NOT BEING ABLE TO RELEASE AN ACTUAL ENDING but whatever, i kind of tried to make up for it lol
Did claude in intoxicating lose his memories of Diana. Though the characterisation was absolutely brilliant. But i wonder that did he completely stop hating the thing that killed his lover and made his lyf painful(from his pov). Or because he forgot about diana or partially remembered her that he started "loving" athy.
fun fact! i remember when this was sent in and i actually wrote half a mini-essay before i accidentally did that macbook side swipe thing and it took me to my previous page and basically got rid of 2000+ words :D uhmmmm to be honest i don't actually remember what i wrote, but going off the vibes i was probably going for, i think he would have tried to forget about diana (after the ruby palace massacre) and then when he became grossly infatuated with athy, he would have focused on her instead whilst still associating her with diana (without realising it, of course. he just notices how athy's golden hair feels a little familiar, notices how her high cheekbones feel a little similar, the same creamy skin).
he definitely would have forgotten how she killed his lover/made his life painful as he became obsessive over athanasia, and instead wanted to have a claim over her (rather than kill her since she killed diana inadvertently). i'm glad you liked his characterisation as fucking WILD AND GENUINELY PSYCHO TOT that he is lol i was rereading intoxicating to try and gain closure and was like 🧍🏼♂️🧍🏼♂️why is this man so fucking creepy like the way that he talks and acts around athanasia is genuinely gross but in that weird like lolita way... and rereading how athanasia tried to convince herself that he was purely in love with her rather than off doing god knows what genuinely made me pity her before i realised that i was the one who wrote that 🧍🏼♂️🧍🏼♂️
Was intoxicating AU's athy more like diana? Like im just asking because here claude says that he tried to ignore diana's features in athy but couldn't. Which is a foil to what manhwa claude says and how manhwa's LP Athy is portrayed. Btw apart from the claude and felix digression i found the depiction of incest abuse outstanding and very loyal to real cases. Your story was the first that got me studying this crime and its effects and i realised this is the worst form of pedophilia. So kudos.
when i write, i really try to separate what goes on in the manhwa to how i portray the characters as a) i feel like if they're too similar then i can't get away with differences e.g. in paradise, athy being portrayed a total cold-blooded bitch instead of a mature, nice girl meant that when she did cruel things, people didn't find it as weird as she'd been characterised as something else and b) sometimes i find their characters boring so i add spice in other ways LOL it just isn't convenient to write about them in ways that don't fit the storyline i want. i kind of ignore the manhwa now 🧍🏼♂️🧍🏼♂️BUT ANYWAYS, i'd say that she physically resembled diana (pretty sure that was established in the manhwa so i did take that concept and apply it to intoxicating since it did kind of support the reason why claude even got involved with athy in the first place ??) and i suppose they could have been emotionally as well.
i tried to maintain athanasia's childish side to really hone in on the fact that claude was doing those things to a child, let alone his daughter. when she is thirteen, she is naïve enough to believe that if she can convince herself that he loves her as a romantic partner, then she will ignore the scorn that they will face if they're found out. she comes to terms with the fact that he doesn't love her that way and so she withdraws, realising that he shouldn't love her as a partner anyway (which is why when they argue later, it is because claude has realised that he wants her as a romantic partner and wants to make her his empress, whereas athanasia wants a father).
when jennette is introduced, she definitely has a grown in the sense that she knows to withdraw, knows to be quiet about what her father did to her, but she also is jealous when his attention is taken away from her. i didn't really think about diana's characterisation since she only appears in claude's single hallucination, but i'd say she was more demure in that scene which does kind of tie into how athanasia changes to become more lady-like, reserved etc after she withdraws from claude? i didn't really think about it lol sorry 🧍🏼♂️🧍🏼♂️
also the claude felix thing was NOT MEANT TO HAPPEN I GOT CARRIED AWAY OKAY it started off as a joke in my server and then i was like lol sure why not and now... 🧍🏼♂️🧍🏼♂️sorry felix you deserved so much better than what claude did to you TOT but regarding what you said about how it was loyal to real cases, i'm glad that i could at least somewhat portray it in that way (of course not glad that it happens, but i'm glad i could at least try to shed some light on these things) !! it would have been better if i highlighted the relationship more and really pointed out that athanasia's view of it was intentionally rose tinted so that she could try to make it seem 'okay', especially as there were some miscommunications about if i was glorifying and romanticising it or not, but all in all, i'm glad you enjoyed it :))
Did anastasius groom claude in intoxicatong AU. Like how did claude revolt and attempt to murder Ana if he was also groomed and was following the same path. Is groomed Athy of the same mindset as groomed claude. Or is she stronger or weaker. And did claude try to vent these same things onto Diana when he first met her,but later he tried changing his mind???
i think i had plans for anastasius to have groomed/sexually assault claude? i just realised how bad that sounds OH MY GOD i swear i don't go around writing about these things anymore oh my god... okay but i think i definitely was going to go down that path, and have that as the excuse as to why claude revolted against anastasius and killed him. in this case, claude would have killed him as a type of revenge (and if you're really going down the cruel, gruesome, dead dove please don't eat trail, he may have topped him as an attempt to gain back his power), and all of his abuse in his childhood could potentially explain why he followed the same path and went after athanasia. in intoxicating, i don't remember if i ever had plans to 'explain' why claude did what he did (as in what actually pushed him to the edge to even consider doing what he did, even if it was initially a test to see if he could push athanasia away) as i was concerned that it may be seen as an excuse, not an explanation.
however, i did have a mini-series called cripple that was meant to be claude's childhood to the ruby palace massacre, which definitely would have entailed all of the above (anastasius sexually assaulting and grooming claude, the revolt etc). using that as a support for the contents of intoxicating, in this case, it could have definitely been a reason for why he went after athanasia. they would have had similar mindsets as children (both wanting attention and love from an older male figure, being innocent and naïve and thus easy to be taken advantage of, not understanding the weight of the situation), but as they got older, they definitely went different ways.
claude would have been furious, murderous, craving vengeance and to destroy his brother in the cruellest way possible because his pride had been tarnished (i see claude as a very prideful man, so having this kind of thing done to him would have driven him to the edge). he would have loathed anastasius, wanting to torture him and leave him to rot. once he withdrew, he would find himself giving in - he would be forced upon whether he liked it or not. he'd be an example of victims who emerge loathing their abusers, vengeful, and full of hatred and distrust towards the world. athanasia, on the other hand, withdrew in an attempt to protect herself but would find herself giving in regardless. i think she would be an example of victims who go back to their abusers anyways, as they find it as a better thing than being on their own. i don't really like to say that athanasia is weaker as it has negative connotations, but you could definitely take it that her resolve was weaker.
again, i didn't think too much about diana's characterisation in intoxicating, but claude could very well have attempted to mimic these behaviours onto her. however, i don't really see it as that. if i briefly imagine the situation, i think that claude would have tried to better himself in a way after killing anastasius and attempting to salvage his pride and regain his sense of control. he knows that what was done to him was bad, was horrible, was something that no other person should go through, and as such, i like to think that claude wouldn't have done any of those things to diana because he wanted to be a better man for himself, and for her as he loved her. however, after her death, he probably would have been pushed to the edge and found himself in a downward spiral, which would explain why when he met athanasia, he would have lost all moral control and would think that it was okay to do something like that to her.
thank you so much to everyone who has supported me since april 2020 when i first started writing throne and paradise, and for everyone who continued to encourage me to keep on writing even when i wanted to stop and give up. i know it sounds a little bad, but you guys really helped me to keep going (in life too), and i really appreciate all of your kind words !! i hope you enjoy the ending as shoddy as it is <3333333
love,
toisiit
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30 "when you smile, you knock me out, I fall apart" with Ratty and Mole?
(Also, I haven't actually watched any starkid musicals those were suggested by @residentofskinnymandria but I will be looking into them this weekend :D)
A/N: Thank you for the prompt and for your patience! I procrastinated somewhat on this because for my other OTPs, I would usually go straight for the romance with a starter like this, but by now y'all know that when it comes to Ratty & Mole, the line between romantic and platonic tends to be up to reader interpretation :)
Also a shout-out to @wolfiethewriter for unwittingly providing inspiration for this ficlet, by getting hilariously drunk a few nights back during our Midnight Sun readthrough. I only hope you fared better the next morning than Rat :D
x
Categorically, Rat knew there were worse ways to wake.
But, as Toad started on his fifth verse of 'What Shall We Do with the Drunken Sailor?' Rat found he could think of no such examples.
He muttered something unsavoury and buried himself deeper into the recesses of the caravan, far from the prying, headache-inducing light of day, and far, far away from Toad's over-exuberant singing – for what little good it would do him. For Toad had inherited his mother's operatic lungs, if quantifiably not her pitch-perfect tone, and both were on full display that morning.
(It could not be said that Toad was a bad singer. It was simply the case that enthusiasm preceded vocal form, and he cared little for meddling things such as keys or sharps and flats when the mood took him. Regardless, even if Toad's voice had been flawless, Rat wouldn't have had the patience for it. Not today. The careening key changes were just the icing on the cake.)
The song briefly rose as the caravan door opened, and Rat recoiled as much from the intrusion of light as he did from Toad's blasted singing. Then the aroma of eggs and bacon hit him, and he begrudgingly shuffled his snout out of the cool, dark safety of the bedcovers.
Mole stood before him, fried offering in paw, and looking significantly less the worse for wear after their previous night's inebriations than Rat. He grinned, and set the breakfast down on the table beside the bed. "Well," he said, "I've never seen you sleep in this late."
"This isn't sleeping in," Rat muttered. "It's suffering."
"Maybe you should have thought about that before drinking so much yesterday," Mole said, the faint admonishment in his tone outweighed by the amusement.
"I'm not a lightweight," Rat grumbled. "It's just whatever Toad puts in his damn drinks to make them green always knocks me out."
"And makes you very drunk, apparently."
Rat hesitated, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer to his next question. "How drunk?"
Mole grinned again. "Nothing too embarrassing. You mostly just gabbled and then got distressed when you couldn't pronounce a word properly."
"What word?"
"I believe it was library."
"...Library?" Rat echoed. "How–"
"You kept saying 'liblary' instead."
"Libla...?"
"Liblary, hm-mm. The second 'l' kept creeping in, however hard you tried otherwise." The humour in Mole's voice betrayed that Rat's efforts, while in vain, had been quite the show.
Rat considered this as best he could while the sensation of galloping horses gallivanted between his ears. Eventually he located what he hoped would be a safe question. "Why were we talking about libraries?"
"Oh, we weren't – just you. Goodness knows why, and we thought it best not to ask."
"DON'T LET HIM STEER THAT CARGO FREIGHTER, DON'T LET HIM STEER THAT CARGO FREIGHTER, DON'T LET HIM STEER THAT CARGO FREIGHTER, URL-EYE IN THE MORNING!"
With a wince, Rat turned a reluctant ear to Toad's questionable shanty rendition, trying to figure out if the words were indeed what he was hearing, or whether it was simply the effects of the hangover. "What verse is Toad on now?"
Mole chuckled. "Ones of his own creation. I think he ran out of official verses he could recall a while back."
As if to compound that fact, Toad skipped the refrain entirely and overshot to the next verse, of which the origin was undoubtedly a Toad Special.
"PUT HIM IN THE LIBLARY 'TIL HE'S SOBER, PUT HIM IN THE LIBLARY 'TIL HE'S SOBER, PUT HIM IN THE LIBLARY 'TIL HE'S SOBER, URL-EYE IN THE MORNING!"
Rat winced again. "I'm not living this one down, am I?"
"Oh, Toad will forget in time," Mole said, with surprisingly surety for someone who had spent only a day and a half in Toad's presence. But, then again, Toad was not the most complicated of creatures. However, Rat noted that Mole didn't make any mention of himself forgetting any time soon.
Mole nudged the plate closer to Rat. "Eat up. You'll feel better for it."
Rat had half a mind to make a comment about food being Mole's solution to everything, but then he caught another whiff of breakfast and his stomach gave an audible rumble. He pushed himself up and made a start on the meal.
"Just out of curiosity," Mole said, "why did you drink so much of Toad's cocktails if you know you always suffer the next day?"
"Honest answer?" Rat asked. "I forgot."
"You... forgot?"
"I had..." and Rat paused as Toad butchered another verse, "more pressing issues on my mind."
Both animals waited out Toad's latest crescendo, enduring the new volumes before he petered out to more acceptable levels.
"Would those issues be green and singing?" Mole asked.
"Usually."
Rat had worked his way through a rash and a half of bacon before Mole spoke again, and the distance between the words belayed an uneasy deliberation. "You didn't have to come along," Mole said. He sat on the bench that ran along the inner of the caravan, which served as table space and seating as the need arose, and the ledge was set just a smidgen too high so that his paws only brushed the floor. "You know, out on the open road. Not if you didn't want to."
"Ah, well," Rat said, "then who would keep you and Toad out of trouble?"
"I think we would have managed."
Rat squinted. "No offence, Moley, but I know you, and I know Toad–" he gestured to the window from which Toad's performance was still going strong, and then immediately regretted it as the alcohol residing in his system sent his head spinning "–and you are both many things, but 'out of trouble' is not one of them."
"We survived this morning without mishap."
There was a crash from outside, followed by a cry of, "It's alright! Everything's good! No need to check!" from Toad.
"Mostly," Mole amended.
"Definitely sounds like you have everything under control here," Rat deadpanned.
"I'm sure everything's fine."
There was another thump, this time accompanied by the unimpressed whinny of the horse.
Mole and Rat exchanged glances.
Mole closed the window. "Look, Ratty, all I'm saying is that you needn't have felt obliged to come along if you'd rather have stayed on your river." He glanced to the wicker luncheon basket that was still half-full from yesterday, and which had seemingly swayed Rat in his decision to accompany the caravan. "We could have had our picnics on the riverbank instead."
"We?" Rat echoed.
"Well, of course. Do you really think I would have gone off on the Life Adventurous without you?"
Rat didn't immediately respond. The horses in his head had calmed, but the outcome was simply that he had more space to think properly through the last couple of days. Truth be told, he hadn't quite been sure which Mole would have chosen – him or the open road – and he hadn't been interested in putting it to the test. His mind played back the eagerness with which Mole had rootled through the caravan, exploring the compact living wagon and settling in with an ease that made Rat wonder whether the caravan's claustrophobic space reminded Mole of his own beneath-ground home. It certainly was a far cry from Rat's riverbank abode, where the house had the space to sprawl along the shoreline and the freshwater breeze meant the air was never still. Not like being underground, he was sure.
"Ratty?"
He had been lost in his thoughts for too long, and now Mole leant into his line of vision. Rat had to think quickly to recall what exactly Mole had asked.
"No, of course not," he said. "Only – well, I would have hated for you to have stayed on the riverbank only on my behalf."
"Like you came along here on mine?"
“And for the picnics,” Rat added. “Don’t forget the picnics.”
“Right,” Mole said with a laugh that said he wasn’t buying Rat’s offhanded dismissal any more than Rat believed it. “How could I forget the picnics?” He patted Rat’s paw and swung off the seat. “Well, you can put all thoughts of picnics from your mind until you’ve recovered — and maybe in future we stick to drinks we’re familiar with, hm?”
“Maybe,” Rat conceded.
It was as Mole threw him one last grin and disappeared out of the caravan that Rat came to the reluctant conclusion that, whether or not his housemate was aware of it, Mole had him wrapped around his little claw. He set the emptied plate to one side and collapsed back into the bunk, thankful for the small mercy that at least Toad had stopped singing—
“Feeling better finally?”
Rat jolted back up, and had to steady himself against the table as his head swam. He located Toad at the window. “Toad! How long have you been there?”
“I don’t know; I wasn’t keeping track.” Toad leant in against the windowsill conspiringly. “If I had known all it’d take for you to join me would be the smile off an undergrounder, I’d have dug him out ages ago.”
Rat grumbled but decided he was still too hungover to bicker over it.
Besides, it was somewhat difficult to argue with when it was true.
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Pathfinder's Quest — Bangalore/Wraith, Voidstrike Shipping Speculation? (7/7)
I'm going to talk about my thoughts on the Apex Legends lore book in a series of smaller posts. I have a LOT of fractured thoughts on this book and it would be unnecessarily long if I were to list them out in the same post. If you want to skip to some other post because the content in this one doesn't sound interesting, please do so! I will be numbering the posts and tagging them with "nix talks apex book lore" if you'd like to follow these specific posts and "apex book spoilers" if you'd like to avoid them.
This special post will strictly be about Voidstrike speculation. Keep in mind that this is speculation with a theory based on available lore. You don't have to take this seriously, but if you ship Voidstrike in any capacity, you might want to read this. Caution that this post will be very long and will contain quite a few images from the book as well as Broken Ghost and other supporting material. Let's go!
Book Content + Supporting Material
All right. I've been waiting an entire month to write up this post. You all know by now that Voidstrike is my OTP for Apex Legends. The unfortunate problem with this ship, like some other ships in Apex, is that they have the bare minimum of interaction with each other. Even in this book that proves to be true, except for one interesting little exchange through Pathfinder...
Do you see this comment? I asked Tom Casiello, Senior Writer of Apex Legends and Target of Internet Scorn (just poking fun at his twitter bio here), about it on Twitter and this is what he said:
Yes, that's right, y'all. These two have beef. I can imagine Wraith is little pissed about the whole "headcase" thing from Season 5's Broken Ghost quest:
I mean, can you blame Wraith? Anita’s kind of an asshole in canon, if we’re being honest, so Wraith wanting to get back at her in some way makes sense. She went the fuck off on Mirage when he made a similar comment about her in the Season 6 comic posted on Twitter. What's even weirder is Anita's response when Pathfinder tells her what Wraith said:
Now. I know what you’re thinking. “Nix, it’s not that deep, Anita’s just being a sarcastic dick.” And you would likely be correct, and I would not disagree with you. On the next page, however, this exchange happens:
First of all, why would Anita ask "why would Wraith tell me anything?" Has she tried talking to Wraith before and Wraith may have been closed off and/or hesitant? Or maybe she doesn't fully trust Anita because Anita has such strong feelings about the IMC? Is she... hurt by Wraith not telling her things? Did Wraith try to open up once before, get shot down by Anita's reaction to the IMC, and Anita's been a little salty about it since, henceforth, the shitty "headcase" comment? Maybe Wraith is being a little shit and getting back at her in a weird way. This comment initially sounded vaguely flirty but what do I know except the writers haven't been known to just write things for literally no reason...
Lots to think about here, but I'm hoping we'll get a follow-up to this in-game at some point.
And second of all, why would Pathfinder ask if they're best friends? I know he has an interesting view of who he considers friends...generally people who have talked to him for more than a minute:
But a “best friend”? What would give him that assumption about these two? Is it because they have some things in common? Or has he seen them interacting more than we (the players and lorehounds) know of? Is it because of their one exchange in Broken Ghost? I don’t think so at all. Granted, right on the next page Anita calls Wraith a lab rat (pretty shitty!), but as we learn later on, she is really sensitive and defensive about people who speak badly about the IMC (more on this in my post about Bangalore). I'm thinking Path mentioning Wraith being IMC pissed her off because Wraith, overall, blames them for what happened to her.
In any case, it's an interesting question to ask, and I do have to wonder if Wraith and Anita have been seen talking to one another for more than a minute lol. But Anita's answer is intriguing. She doesn't flat out say no. We know Anita to be very direct—sarcastic, sure—but generally you'd expect a straight fucking answer from her. Here, she doesn't even give one. She beats around the bush for an answer. What I think is happening here is about the same as her talking about Octane and Mirage. Remember that loading screen from Season 3? No? Well, let me refresh your memory...
Send in the Clowns (Season 3 Loading Screen)
Numbnuts! That’s what Mama used to call guys like that. You know the type. Big jokes, big trucks, big wallets...they need all that big to cover up what’s small. I got four brothers. Real gentlemen, raised with respect. They don’t have to woo-hoo their way through a battlefield like it’s a joke and they’re the punchline. Sorry, Laughtrack. The only punchline is you’re going home in a box.
Maybe Silva isn’t so bad. He’d take a bullet for anyone… mostly ‘cause he’s already fifty paces ahead, charging in with no game plan and even less strategy. Witt’s had my back more than once. And whatever, he’s gotten a chuckle out of me. Occasionally. Maybe they’re good. For morale, I mean. I mean… I just need them to stay out of my way.
She's just... like that. Anita is the type of person who won't openly admit that she actually likes or respects anyone. She's guarded, and she's probably been this way since her brother Jackson died. And that's where Loba comes in.
See, I think Loba has been making Anita rethink some things about opening up. Anita initially pegged Loba wrong, and in her chapter, Pathfinder basically figures out that she initially hated Loba because Loba reminds her of her older brother's shitty girlfriend:
I think Loba's purpose in her and Anita's budding friendship is to eventually lead Anita to opening up to others, especially Wraith, since Path mentioned they have a lot in common, which is something I've been saying for fucking months. Now, Wraith and Anita haven't really had any interaction that we know of outside of Broken Ghost and the book, but there have been some....very minor hints/foreshadowing. I'm going to preface this by saying you may think I'm being a little...out there with these points, but trust me, we'll touch on why these matter later. For now:
Back in Season 1, both Bangalore and Wraith were the first two Legends to get Legendary skins in the Legendary Hunt themed event. First occurence is an incident.
In the Season 3 opening trailer, Caustic throws a gas canister inside a room and you can vaguely see Bangalore and Wraith in the room on the same team:
In the Legend select screen, these two were right next to each other up until they were separated in Season 6. They were together. Five. Straight. Seasons. Was there another, more subtle reason they were separated? Common sense would say no, it's because we're getting more Legends and the UI needs to change to accommodate. Shipping and speculation sense would say maybe it's metaphorical and foreshadowing a story element. Maybe something happened between them that we aren't aware of yet and they've separated.
At the end of Season 6 for the Fight or Fright Halloween event, we got a bundle of skins called the Wicked Wraith bundle. Guess who's in it? Bangalore and Wraith plus some gun skins. But only these two Legends.. Hm.. Two's a coincidence.
In Season 7, we got the Black Friday event where we got both Airship Assassin and Outland Warrior back in the shop, two beloved Wraith and Bangalore skins respectively. Three's a pattern, and with this lovely banner:
In Season 8, for the Two-Year Anniversary Event, both Bangalore and Wraith received stat trackers of their concept art... We typically only get two Legends' trackers per each event with a prize track, and we got these two for this event? I predicted back in October 2020 that they would get stat trackers in the same event, but I didn't expect this event out of everything.
If one's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern, then what's four very similar occurrences?
If you've read up to this point, you're either deprived for Voidstrike content like I am, or wondering just how much further I'm willing to dig for hints to support this ship. Trust me, I have a little more.
I am predicting that Anita and Wraith will start having some interaction starting Season 9 or 10. Why? Well, back at the start of Season 7, there was a Reddit AMA with the senior team members of Respawn. It was mostly to address the battlepass issue, but Manny Hagopian, the Lead Writer for Apex Legends, was also there answering questions, so I took a shot and asked him one:
You can totally chalk this up to typical “I can’t say anything right now” PR talk, sure, but I think he's hinting that this was in the plans. Tom has also said something:
Now, granted, this is Tom and mostly everyone takes whatever he says with a grain of salt, myself included, but it's worth keeping an eye on since what Manny says kind of lines up. We were supposed to get a follow-up to Broken Ghost, but that story, whatever it was, ended up being... let's say, "altered"? Tom has a thread on what actually happened on Twitter (that I did link here, but removed for fear of this post not appearing in the tags), but the follow-up was essentially "axed" and bits and pieces of it had to be kicked down the road in various different formats in the lore. What does this have to do with Season 9 and my theory?
Well, there's supposed to be some crazy stuff happening in Season 9 and I think we're going to start to see some elements pop up from what was supposed to happen in Broken Ghost. Why? Well another thing Tom said from that same Twitter thread:
I think whatever Tom was working on was related to IMC, Bangalore, and Wraith. And the reason I believe this is because of a now-deleted video from Chris Edgerly’s twitch stream from back around May 27th, 2020 or so where Tom was a guest. I unfortunately didn’t think to archive the page or video so I don’t have it, but I can say with confidence that I asked a question about Anita and Wraith having some future interaction about the IMC stuff, and the answer he gave was...suspiciously vague. He said something along the lines of:
"I just started writing something dealing with that and you should get to see it before the end of the year [2020]. And that’s all I’ll say on that :]"
I know that’s...well it doesn't say MUCH, but it is making me think that it's the same content he may have been working on. I have a feeling it may be in comic form, but who knows how the format may change. Season 9 is supposed to be fairly game-changing for Apex overall, according to the devs.
The last bit I wanted to mention was character development. I said earlier how I think Loba is helping Anita open up a bit more overall, and eventually that will turn towards others as well as Wraith. Anita, compared to other Legends, has seen character development through voice lines. And Wraith is kind of doing the same. Like sure Loba talks to Anita, but she hasn't really...progressed as a character much. She's remained fairly flat so far. We're actively seeing Anita's walls break down as she becomes more vulnerable as a person. And no one else is really doing this much except for, arguably, Wraith.
Wraith has had some very introspective voice lines to herself while on Olympus, basically wondering if the Rift explosion was a result of her experiments, wondering what type of person she was to have partnered with Singh. Wattson even mentions she looks more lost than usual, and Wraith responds that she needs to handle this on her own for now. We know from the end of Season 6's comics that she's learned she was apparently a shitty person in her past life with anger issues and a severe lack of empathy. She wonders about this and is actively working towards... not being like that lol. She's also fairly sarcastic as we've seen with her voice lines with Rampart, but she's developing as a character, albeit slowly and more subtly than Anita.
So now that that's all out of the way. Where do we go from here? Well, this brings me to a theory I've manifested due to the points in the post so far.
The Theory
What if Anita and Wraith were on pretty okay terms with each other previously and we just haven't heard about it yet? What if they’ve known each other for a while?
Anita has been in the Outlands with a small group of IMC soldiers, her brother Jackson and General Lewis included, for about 18 years. She's been in the Apex Games for about 3 years and the Hestia incident happened about 3 years ago:
That lines up. Since the start of the Apex Legends lore takes place in 2733 (as of Season 8 we are now in the year 2734 in lore), that would mean she had to have joined around 2730. What about Wraith?
Well... I think Anita and Wraith joined the Apex Games around the same time. In the book Wraith mentions that she took a few years to hone her skills before she ended up in a qualifying match:
She arrived at our Kings Canyon in 2727. If she took a few years, she had to have joined around 2730-2731. What if they met and actually were amicable? Closed-off on both ends, but mutually respectful towards each other as coworkers? And maybe this is what causes Pathfinder to assume they're "best friends" in the book.
...That is until the Repulsor incident happened and the IMC labs under Kings Canyon were eventually unearthed. Wraith learned her real name and what the IMC (ARES more specifically) did to her and so did the rest of the Legends she was somewhat close to—Mirage, Pathfinder, and...Anita.
What if Anita took the IMC disrespect personally, thought Wraith was placing blame on the IMC instead of taking responsibility for her own actions like Anita mentions in the book, and Anita blew up about it? Wraith would probably feel extremely hurt by this and withdraw from opening up even more. At this point, Anita would hold a bit of a grudge about the IMC bad-mouthing.
They continue to work as coworkers and on a team when necessary, but the mutual respect has been...lost. Wraith finds friendship elsewhere in Wattson. Fast forward to the events of Broken Ghost. Anita is stressed, annoyed, dealing with too much shit at leading the operation, and hurls an insult at Wraith, the infamous "headcase" comment. It's extremely shitty and uncalled for and while Wraith doesn't explode at her in the moment because of dire circumstances, she absolutely doesn't forget it. It hurts her deeply.
What if after the events of Broken Ghost, their connection is severed. There's some bad blood between them. Wraith's friendship grows with Wattson while Anita's friendship grows with Loba. That separation in the Legend Select screen starting from Season 6 onwards seems a lot more metaphorical...
So fast forward once again to Wraith's comment directed at Anita in the book. It was an opening Pathfinder inadvertently provided and it was an opportunity to take a jab at Anita. But instead of being overtly shitty, she makes a relatively teasing comment. Maybe an olive branch to squash what they have and move on? Anita's response is to thank Wraith when she sees her again. Sarcasm? Maybe. But what if she's being genuine? What if the comment was a joke reflective of the type of humor they shared when they were on better terms with each other?
Anita has been opening up more to Loba, and though shes's still sensitive about the IMC, what if she's more willing to...apologize for the initial shitty comment?
The Theory Continued
Anita has recently, in canon, mentioned Jackson to Loba. Jackson is a VERY sensitive topic for her, and so far, the only two people we know of who have heard her discuss Jackson are Loba and Pathfinder. An interesting thing about Jackson that can be tied back to Wraith is this:
Anita clearly does not accept the ARES Division as part of the IMC, but more than that...Jackson found out the ugly truth about the IMC overall and believed it. Wraith was part of ARES Division and it's why Anita doesn't consider her IMC. Here's where the connection can work:
Continuing the same theory, what if Wraith reminds Anita of Jackson in the worst way possible because of what he told her about the IMC and ARES? Wraith revealing her name and what happened to her conjured up old, painful memories and caused Anita to lash out and close herself off again. Now that Loba is bringing out discussions of Jackson in canon, what if this leads to Anita and Wraith coming back together and rekindling their friendship? There's a lovely quote from Jackson's letter in the book that I feel could foreshadow that happening, too:
"...But in all seriousness, I'm so proud of you. And always remember, what's broken can be fixed. What's shredded can be mended. And what's torn apart can always be put back together again. Love always, Jackson." (82)
What if eventually—slowly, but surely—rekindling this lost friendship leads to Anita opening up to Wraith again? What if it leads to Anita being open and vulnerable enough to learn more about the IMC and ARES Division with/through Wraith via the labs under Kings Canyon? That place is a goldmine of classified information and she very well can see and hear firsthand all the terrible shit they've done. It would be extremely hard to do this, of course. And that's where Manny's comment from the Reddit AMA comes into effect: "...There's much more for both characters to learn and when they do, it's very possible to experience a moment between them, but patience is important."
This is, of course, all just a theory based on what we know about the lore. Is it ridiculous? Possibly! But I also don't think it's entirely farfetched either.
In Conclusion...
I imagine once we get to Season 9—potentially 10 at the latest for quarantine padding and last-minute changes—maybe we'll start seeing them begin to acknowledge each other in some way, and I'm thinking mostly negatively at first. And I don't think it'll be a lot either. Maybe a snarky location voice line or two. Maybe a little mention in a comic or Twitter lore bit. But only a little.
I definitely do think we can expect to see them getting to the point of interacting in the future, but it'll be a slow ride and slow burn. And hey even if we don't... I'll have this post to keep me warm for the rest of my days playing Apex.
Anyway, that's all I have for you! Thanks for reading if you made it this far, I do appreciate it. I love this pairing a lot, and this was really fun to write! Remember, it's just speculation based on....stuff, haha. You don't have to take it or like it at all, but what else am I to do when I'm starved for interaction of my ship? :]
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equinox | chapter 07 –– “a cruel god, a wrathful goddess”
here is chapter six of my bella as a vampire and edward as a human fanfic inspired by an au that @bellasredchevy posted. you can read the new chapter on AO3 or here. i post updates on AO3 or on tumblr using the #equinoxjw tag. but it seems 10/10 times my tag does not work, so that is a fun mystery for me to solve.
oof... sometimes u get distracted and then ur sister gets married and then u get unmotivated & d*pressed and forget to update ur fanfic for over three months... my bad y'all... sorry for the wait hehe. i hope it is worth it. again, i'm so thankful for the comments & i read them all. i get too shy to respond, but i WILL. i just need to talk myself up first. i love u. thank u. hehe. ♡♡♡
merry christmas/happy holidays if i fail u again before the 25th. i WANT to update more frequently. my catchphrase these days is "i'm trying my best," so... i'm trying my best.
this is for the sweet anons who slide into my ask box & ask me questions abt my fanfic. and for taryn, who consistently reminds me that there are people wanting to read this seeing as she is one of those people, kim, who i am so desperate to impress that i began working on a new chapter once she started to read my fanfic, and kae, because without her, this fanfic would never have existed in the first place. i love how i'm writing this as though it's the intro to an actual book when it's literally just chapter seven. ok, i will shut up now so u can read. love u. again.
07 A CRUEL GOD, A WRATHFUL GODDESS
In great contrast to the noisy ambience of the other students in the hallway, we were silent on our walk to our shared biology class. I wondered how conscious Edward was of the stares and whispers focused on our proximity to one another, but my guess was that he was very much conscious of it. I intentionally ignored glancing in any direction that I sensed one of my siblings’ presence, although I figured it was mostly paranoia driving me to feel as though we were about to cross paths. Holding my breath to more easily walk beside Edward left my senses impaired to the ability to pinpoint their location.
I was lucky that for the majority of my immortal life, I’d managed to escape unwanted attention. But now, it seemed that precious luck had finally run out. Maybe embarrassment had been creeping up on me, maliciously building itself up all these years, waiting until just the right moment to rear its ugly head and exact revenge that immorality had stolen its favorite object of humiliation to torment. But here it was, ensuring that I was finally catching up on feeling awkward and out of step, a feeling I experienced for what seemed like the entirety of my human life. I thought once I’d been changed, I’d never feel this way again, but becoming misaligned with my family made me feel bashful to parade my defiance in their faces. I had operated better under no scrutiny as a mortal and was surprised to realize that that still held true as an immortal as well. Because though there was now never a struggle of staying upright or a risk of tripping over my own feet, that didn’t prevent me from feeling self-conscious as I walked beside Edward. Although for different reasons –– it was too mortifying to consider what my family might make of what my actions suggested about my feelings towards Edward.
And yet still, I would put up with the ridicule and disapproval of my siblings if it meant I could listen to Edward speak his silly philosophical theology, his questioning of god and existence, for just a few more hours. If I were going to be teased over Alice’s visions regardless, I might as well find out what I can about this pretentious boy before I leave him alone forever. If only to understand why his moving to this small town threatened to warp my own future so much. In losing night and in losing death, there were so very little anomalies in the endless amount of time I’d been given. So what would it hurt to allow myself to fixate on this minuscule difference in my life for just awhile?
It could hurt Edward, a more selfless part of myself reminded me. If indulging myself was playing with fire, I was being justly punished with the way flames were efflorescing the inside of my dry, burning throat.
If a god did exist, why would it make sense for such a being to craft someone like Edward with his perceptivity, and send him off to this small town, home to a secret such as ours? If a god did exist, why it would be fair for such a being to craft someone like Edward, someone who tempted me both in bloodlust and in curiosity, and send him off to this small town, home to the very vampire who desperately wished to kill him most? If a god did exist, if our kind had fallen short of heaven, I could understand why sending Edward into our path –– and more specifically, my path –– could be some kind of punishment. But what I couldn’t understand is why a god would allow someone as innocent as Edward to be endangered for the sake of bringing a sinful, undead creature to justice. It seemed the only reasonable explanation would be that a god probably did not exist.
And how could there be? I was on the precipice of falling into temptation with every step further in the hallway and every question he asked and answered. I could never not be very much aware of the fact –– especially now with his body merely inches from my side and his sweet fragrance blooming both deliciously and relentlessly in the air. And even as I impossibly withstood the lure of his blood, how was I meant to ignore the irresistibility of his mind and how inexplicably concerned I was to understand it? It seemed like a very cruel experiment of free will and knowledge –– far too cruel to allow much room for the kind of god Edward hoped for.
I frowned as I realized that this experiment wasn’t that of a cruel god’s but that of a cruel vampire, and I felt very much like a vampire as the sound of his heartbeat was so appealing that it made my mouth water.
“Do the stares bother you?” Edward spoke quietly to me as we weaved throughout the hallway. Easily distracted, his question was able to pull the more civilized parts of myself together, though this was probably also in thanks to my choosing not to utilize my sense of smell. I found it funny that at least one of his thoughts had been in a similar vicinity. But of course, the rest of his thoughts were probably free of all consuming agony and struggle. For all his curiosity about morality, to inflict this existence upon him would probably devour him in misery. At least as a human, despite whatever conclusions he may come to, there was still some hope to be had for an afterlife. This thought should have been dark and depressing, but because it made Alice’s vision seem like a complete hoax, I almost found it funny. How would Edward ever end up like me?
“Oh, no,” I swallowed the venom in my mouth. “I live for attention.” I watched from the corner of my eyes as his gaze flickered over to me, the ever present half smile appearing on his face at my joke. My answer came out so comfortably as though I was used to this, when in reality, the student body for the most part had grown accustomed to ignoring me. And, of course, there was nothing comfortable about the demanding, aching dryness in my mouth or the burning in my nostrils. “How about you?”
“Likewise,” he joked, laughing. “This is interesting –– their fascination. I understood their interest on my first day because I’d guess a new addition to the student body in a town this small is something of a rarity, but today, walking by your side is garnering even more attention. Is it a once in a lifetime opportunity to have Bella Cullen walk you to class?”
“You’re just so observant, aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes, though the corners of my mouths pulled up despite myself. “And I’m not walking you to class. I’m walking to a class I just so happen to share with you, so don’t get the wrong idea. I think they’re just surprised because they’re probably under the impression that I don’t play nice with others.”
“And do you?”
“You tell me,” I replied, pausing to face him beside a wall of lockers next to the entrance of our biology classroom. As he stopped beside me, a gust of air from a passing student walking hastily down the hallway sent his scent reeling into me at an unfortunate moment where I’d chosen to breathe in. My muscles tensed to spring, and I desperately anchored myself to the floor as my mind fell into disarray.
“Nicely enough,” Edward winked naturally as though we’d been the best of friends since his first day. The demanding thirst was intruding on my awareness, and the desperation for something wet and hot and delicious in my desiccated throat was so dizzying that his voice sounded as though it were underwater. With an effort as though I were swimming through drying cement, I resurfaced, just barely proving my dominion over the desire. I focused on his voice so that it’d become clearer, forcing myself to take another excruciating breath in and exhale the fire out. “I will say I am honored to be the exception –– to be plucked from the masses by the renowned, reclusive Bella Cullen.”
With torturous effort, I snorted as though I wasn’t fighting everything within me to keep him alive. I breathed in again heavily, allowing my body to become a pyre so that I could speak. “Alright, that’s enough. Stop saying my name like that. And you’ve lost the privilege. I am never walking you to class again,” I rolled my eyes even though my joke could very much be the truth. The bunching of my muscles, the twitching of my hands, and the fierce pain in my throat reminded me of the fact. Before he could point out the contradiction of what I’d previously clarified, I sighed. “Let’s take this quiz.”
His pretty green eyes were alive with mischief and enlightened with what must be more answers to questions he hadn’t outright asked me as he turned to enter the classroom. I followed behind him towards our shared table.
Air from the vent rushed out, thrusting the scent of his blood wafting into my face again. I paused for an indistinguishable moment as I battled agony, murderousness, monstrosity. Holy fuck. What was I trying to prove! Was it really worth this? Swallowing hard, I sat beside him as though nothing happened. My suffering was so great that Emmett could have brutally ripped my arm off, he could have beat me with it, and I wouldn’t have noticed nor felt a thing. I could have been set on fire, and it’d feel like sinking into a cool pool of water on an even cooler day. I was already burning alive, my body acting as a furnace, and I was imprisoned inside it.
Without intending to, I sighed aloud, exhaling as though it would smother the flames. It was a stupid, attention seeking thing to do. Humans sighed to expel air or express some sadness or relief or exhaustion, so when my family emitted an audible breath, we did so as a means of blending in. But to breath out in a way to clue Edward into the fact something was plaguing me… it was a stupid invitation for more questions. And these were questions I had no intention of sharing the answers to. I felt his eyes on me, but before he could say anything, Mr. Molina began passing out quizzes face down on our lab tables as students continued to pile in from lunch.
“Alright, class. Today we have a pop quiz–– oh, come on, guys, don’t groan. You will have the opportunity to make corrections after these have been graded. This is just an assessment of what you’ve retained from this unit so far. You will have the entire period to complete–– thanks for joining us, Mr. Patterson, glad you could fit my class into your busy schedule. Why don’t you take your seat? –– You will have the entire period to complete your quiz. If you finish early, feel free to get a head start on this weekend’s homework! I’ve written the reading down on the board. Aw, I’m sure you’re all moaning because you’re disappointed at how light of an assignment it is because I just know how very excited you all are to continue your passionate pursuit of studying biology. Alright, now that everyone’s settled–– wait a minute––” Mr. Molina paused, raising his pointer finger in the air, his eyes squinted in anticipation. Three seconds later, the bell signaled the beginning of class. “Begin!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward reluctantly turn away from me. In an elegant script, he wrote his name at the top of the paper and began his quiz. I turned away from him to look at my own paper, preparing myself to uncomfortably hold my breath for the next hour. The difference this made in my thirst was almost insignificant, but enough so that it gave me a tiny more leverage in my control. I smoothed out the pucker on my forehead with the eraser from my pencil, accidentally snapping the rubber off against my face.
Absentmindedly, I began to breeze through the assessment, circling the correct answers, but my mind was more absorbed in the warmth of sitting beside Edward. Aside from the affliction of doing so, it was too pleasurable to have sat beside him so often and for so long today. I enjoyed the toastiness like a lizard basking in the sun. It made me recall the muddy human memory of laying out on a blanket in my backyard beneath my beloved blue Arizona sky, hiding beneath the small shade of a book. Not the blistering heat of a summertime Phoenix sun, but the warmth of the first day of spring. But the heat of Edward’s body alone was enough to fill my mouth with venom, so I tried to refocus my attention onto my quiz.
When I turned to the last page of questions, a motion beside me diverted my concentration once again. I peeked over, turning my head slightly in Edward’s direction to see what it was. As he thought over one of the questions, his right hand was moving peculiarly as he lifted and dropped down his long fingers almost as though he were impatiently tapping each digit one by one along the tabletop. Except the movement was more exact and calculatingly random. Engrossed, I watched as his his soft, fragile skin rippled over the muscle, the tendons appearing and disappearing with every bizarre movement. It took me a moment to make the connection between the large grand piano in his home and the motion of his hands. I realized he was miming piano movements while he thought through his answers. There was something both weird, funny, and endearing about this. I smiled to myself, not having the required oxygen to quietly laugh.
I felt his curious eyes flicker over to me and watched peripherally as he raised his eyebrows. I shook my head, biting down on my lip to unsuccessfully fight the smile, and returned to completing my quiz.
I finished a moment later and impatiently waited another ten minutes or so before I could turn in my work. I tried to ignore Edward for this small period of time at least, mentally reading myself the opening chapter to Wuthering Heights. Even though the words were committed to my memory, it was still never as good as actually reading from the book itself.
Once I’d decided an appropriate enough time had passed, I stood up to walk my quiz to the completed basket on Mr. Molina’s desk. Even having waited, I was still the first to finish the examination.
“Thank you,” the teacher whispered without breaking his focus away from the crossword puzzle he peered through his glasses at. I breathed in now that I’d placed some distance between myself and Edward, gladly facing the cool, fresh air from the vent.
“Neophyte,” I whispered back now that I’d replenished my oxygen supply.
“Excuse me?” He glanced up, his slightly aged face confused.
“Neophyte,” I repeated. “Eight across, two down.”
I took in one last clean breath and walked back to my seat as he tapped his pen across the squares of the space, mouthing his count of the letters to check if the word fit.
As soon as I took my place in my seat again, Edward stood up to walk his own quiz to the basket.
I wanted to watch him, but instead I forced myself to unzip my backpack and retrieve the biology textbook.
Busying myself with the assigned chapters, deciding to actually read them so as to not feed into my invasive Edward obsession, I couldn’t help but listen as Edward too placed his own textbook on the countertop.
I heard the scribble of pen on paper as he began to write what I imagined were notes until his large hand slid the paper over to me beneath the wall of my hair spilling over the desk. Well, I wouldn’t ignore him if he was the one deciding to bother me.
You know I’m pretty certain that cheating is a violation of the student handbook, but I’ll let you get away with it just this once.
I turned to glance at his face to see if he were serious. His eyes were warm and inviting, his mouth in the same crooked smile.
I took the piece of paper and looked around for my writing utensil that had gone missing somehow. My eyes zeroed in on a suspicious, tiny pile of wood dust on my side of the desk. When had I brutalized my pencil? He held his hand out to offer his own pen, and I accepted it, carefully plucking it from his fingers without making contact.
I wasn’t cheating. You were doing something funny. And what do you know about the student handbook? You’re new.
I slid the paper and pen back to him and watched as he combed a hand through his bronze hair, reading my response. The smile grew wider as he construed the biting tone of my note.
Can I be let in on the joke? Edward wrote, turning to look at me once he was done. Again I was prisoner, though this time not to my own body. I was momentarily held hostage by the beauty and warmth of his light green eyes. I was understanding more and more the attraction the other students had for him. If I had a soul, it was as though he were staring straight into it.
I recovered, placing my hand atop the desk and then wiggling my fingers as though I were weaving my way through a very complicated piano piece.
Oh, Edward mouthed, immediately understanding. He silently laughed and placed his left hand to his forehead briefly as if to hide his face in mock embarrassment. The ink from the pen spilled onto the paper as he began to write again.
In my defense, there’s research that supports classical music puts students in a heightened emotional state, making them more receptive to information and helping them focus.
That’s very nerdy of you. I scribbled back, the corners of my lips pulled upwards.
I know. As I read the words on the notebook paper, we both laughed a little too loudly for the quietness of the room.
“Please remain silent for your classmates still working,” Mr. Molina stage-whispered from his desk, his eyes still fixated on the crossword puzzle.
It’s a bad habit. Edward tacked on to his message. I beamed. I knew a thing or two about bad habits today. I was appreciative of this silent conversation on paper; it made it easier to be beside him without needing to breathe to speak aloud.
What were you playing? I scrawled.
Clair de Lune. Edward wrote back. His thick eyebrows raised as my eyes lit up, and he continued writing. You know Debussy?
My mother used to play a lot of classical music around the house. It was one of my favorites.
It’s one of my favorites, too. Edward’s eyes were a little sad and lost in thought, and he smiled softly.
I was shocked by the change in expression and weirdly desperate to return the brightness back to his eyes. The burn in my throat was almost forgettable in the face of my concern. Almost, but not quite. He turned his head down to write on the paper again.
You said Rosalie played piano. You never learned? He turned to look at me, his expression curious. I shook my head and shrugged, reaching for the pen.
I didn’t think I had the coordination for it. While this was true for the time I was human, it wasn’t true now. Still, even though my days stretched into endless nights, I hadn’t yet devoted time to any instrument as an immortal.
Edward read the paper, his long pointer finger tracing the line beneath the words as he did so. He held his large hand out, and I dropped the pen into it.
I’ll show you sometime. Edward half smiled at me, his eyes sweet and earnest.
Knowing I shouldn’t be allowing him to think making a plans with me was an option, I reached for the pen to tell him that it was alright, but I froze as he suddenly moved to drop the pen and take my hand. Though he should have been the one hesitant and cautious as though approaching a dangerous, wounded animal, I held perfectly still as though he were the danger, and I needed to play dead for protection. You can’t play dead if you are dead, I thought to myself.
My body tensed as my hand was enveloped in the heat of his much larger palm, uncertain as to what he was doing. My muscles screamed at me as I clenched my free hand into a tight fist, terrified of myself.
A shiver rippled through him as he felt the chill of my frozen fingers, and I twitched the hand in his possession, wanting to yank it away to protect him from the iciness but not wanting to alert him with the swiftness of the motion.
He smiled mysteriously at the spasm as though he somehow expected it. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking but didn’t want to risk breathing. My control could too easily be lost. Besides, I was scared that if I were to open my mouth, I’d end up screaming.
I felt him push slightly and realized he wished for me to curl my fingers, so with great concentration and the acute awareness of his fragility, I moved my stony hand into the shape he directed, my fingers curved slightly beneath his like a relaxed talon. I didn’t like the shape; it was odd and inhuman and made me think of the violence I could cause.
But it wasn’t a claw. Because once my hand was positioned the way he wanted, he began to slowly place pressure on my fingers, and I dipped and rose them accordingly to carefully move with his. I watched as the two of our hands together played what I imagined must be the opening chords to Clair de Lune.
The disconcerting emptiness in my chest soared at the bizarre pleasure of this touch, and a weird sensation tickled my scalp, moving swiftly down my spine to my entire body.
My muscles tightened violently and then relaxed, sending a shiver to ripple through me. It was too much pleasure and too much pain as my throat ached and I leaned into the warmth.
Embarrassed and not wanting to push my luck, I cautiously pulled my hand slowly away. He lifted his hand to allow me to escape as though I couldn’t just break his hand to do so, a half-smile pulling on his lips. I pretended not to notice the goosebumps on his arms.
See? he mouthed before deciding to whisper. “You could do it.”
I forced myself to smile and then turned away for the rest of the hour, trying to keep from doing anything stupid like looking at him or killing him. I’d completely forgotten where we were.
When the bell finally rung, I collected my things atop the desk hastily. Edward reached for my backpack and held it up for me.
“Thanks,” I murmured as I dumped my books into the bag. Before I could take it from him, he slid it onto his back and nodded his head once for me to go forward.
Feeling awkward, I turned and allowed him to follow me to the door. I was lucky to walk in front of him, taking the opportunity to breath again as the vent blew out in front of my face.
Exiting the classroom, I paused for a second when I saw Emmett waiting for me across the hallway rather than his typical spot beside the wall of lockers next to our shared Spanish classroom. Even though I was well aware of the fact I’d been dangling my irresponsibility in their faces all day, I still felt as though I was being caught in the act.
Emmett’s eyebrows raised as his golden eyes watched Edward follow behind me, carrying my backpack. I crossed the hallway reluctantly towards my big brother.
“Hello,” I greeted him, avoiding his eyes. I felt smaller than ever beside him with my head down, and yet not small enough as I wished to disappear.
“Hey, little sis,” Emmett began uncertainly, though I glanced up to see his full lips were beginning to stretch into a smile that I didn’t like. “Who’s that with you?”
“Uh…”
“I’m Edward Masen,” the lanky human boy introduced himself confidently as he stopped beside me. “And you must be––”
“Emmett,” my brother interrupted, grinning as though he always so comfortably interacted with humans. This was all too weird, but he looked to be enjoying it far too much. His desire to mess with me and his confidence in Alice’s visions seemed to override the abnormality of speaking to a student so amicably. I watched as he breathed in and shot me a meaningful look. I grimaced.
I opened my mouth to put an end to this torturously awkward interaction, but Emmett interrupted again.
“It’s nice to see you made a friend,” he began, an evil glint in his eyes as he watched my face. I was confused as to where he was going with this because our entire family would come across as misanthropic to the rest of the school, so why should it matter to him. He turned his attention to look at Edward who was closer in height to him. “You know, we worry about her––”
“Okay, let’s go to Spanish,” I cut him off quickly. “Edward, can I have my bag, please?”
Without looking at him, I reached for my backpack as he offered it and threw it over my shoulder, heading down the hallway. It was a massive relief to put some distance between myself and Edward. My thoughts were clearer, and I could breathe freely.
Emmett burst into laughter, his guffaws booming in the hallway. Several students paused in fear making me concerned about Edward’s reaction to my giant of a sibling, but I relaxed when I heard Edward chuckling along with him.
“Um, see you,” Emmett said to Edward before his steady, near silent footfall followed after me.
Even moving at a lethargic human pace, he caught up to me quickly.
“That wasn’t funny,” I grumbled.
“What the hell are you doing?” Emmett chuckled, ignoring my question.
“What the hell are you doing? What was that back there?”
“I don’t know. That was weird, but not as weird as you playing with your food.”
I hissed quietly.
“Damn, I’m kidding, Bells. But seriously, what are you doing? What happened to your high and noble speech about doing the right thing and staying away from the kid? I thought Esme was about to produce real tears. It even softened Rose.”
“Ugh, don’t talk to me about Rosalie right now. She’s been giving me dirty looks all day. It makes me feel awful. I already feel bad!”
“Well, I don’t really care what you do either way so––” I looked at him questionably. “I mean, sure, I want you to do the right thing, whatever that means. I don’t want you to feel miserable. But on one end, I didn’t really mind so much what happened to me.”
“Rosalie did,” I countered.
“Yeah, Rose did,” he acquiesced quietly.
“Anyways, I’m not having that conversation. I wasn’t talking to him today to test whether or not he’s worth it. That’s… unethical.”
“So what were you doing?”
“I don’t know,” I groaned in answer.
Emmett laughed.
“You’re weird these days, Bella.”
“You’re weird everyday,” I quipped back before sighing. “I don’t know. He’s weird, too. I guess… I’m not making any decisions, at all, but if Alice told you what she told me… wouldn’t you be curious?”
Emmett thought it over. “Yeah, I think so. But I also don’t think I’d have even made it to this point,” he admitted. I winced.
“It’s kind of unfair for me to care more about satiating my curiosity and dance with the devil this way, right?”
“Well…he may not know it, but isn’t it more so that Edward’s the one dancing with the devil?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, frowning as we walked into our Spanish class. “I guess it is.”
I made the decision to avoid thinking of Edward for the remaining hour of school. I paid very little attention in Spanish, returning to the familiar mind-numbing boredom that classes had been prior to the last few days. Now that it was in stark contrast to the sudden life breathed into my time at Forks High School by my fixation with Edward, the tedium was no longer something dealt with indifferently and sluggishly. Now, it left me feeling restless, and it almost pained me how laborious it was to sit through a life I wasn’t an active participant in. It was nowhere near the pain of dealing with the excruciating thirst I had around my bronze-haired lab partner, but it almost tampered with my thoughts more knowing I’d feel less miserable if I spent this time analyzing every word Edward shared with me, every fluctuation of his tone, every glint in his perceptive eyes, every expression on his pretty face… But I was becoming too obsessive. The same hunger for adventure that made me fall in love with reading must be what was leading me to so treacherously, so impetuously dive into exploring this insignificant and yet cataclysmic difference in my life.
As though it had a personal vendetta against me, time moved even more lethargically than it ever had before, but finally, the bell signaling the end of school rang. Emmett’s eyes shot a concerned look at me as I rose from my seat too quickly, and I immediately felt embarrassed again. The cautious reminder in his expression made me feel childish as Emmett was never one to care much about bending the rules.
“See you at home, I guess,” he shook his head, giving me one last look that seemed to suggest I’d lost it.
“See you,” I mumbled, slinging my bag over my shoulder. Leaving Emmett behind to wait for Rosalie, I weaved through the crowded hallway and out to the parking lot. Students were bundling together and squealing at the chilling air as tiny, fluffy snowflakes fluttered down from the overcast sky. The floor of the parking lot was almost as glassy as yesterday as the rain from this afternoon had melted into a thin layer of icy mush. Though there was hardly enough snow for a decent snowball fight, some of the rowdier students were bundling up a pitiful pile of snow to form pathetic snowballs in their fists.
I nearly skipped to the pearly white vehicle parked beside Rosalie’s overly conspicuous crimson car which was forming a small crowd of admirers. Leaning against the trunk of the car, I watched the front doors of the school to look for Edward.
The tangle of reddish-brown hair was easy to spot because of its strange metallic tint as he strolled out of the building with Naomi, the student who’d provided him with the information about my family on his first day. He had his coat folded over his arm, revealing how form fitting his light tan turtleneck was. He truly was a very attractive boy. It was odd that I hadn’t really paid much attention initially. With his dazzling face and tall, lean frame, Edward was pretty enough that for the vampires who searched for exquisitely beautiful humans to create into even more stunning immortals, he could probably be a contender for someone to collect.
Thinking of how Emmett questioned my motives today, I quickly banished the idea of Edward as an immortal from my mind, even if it was only a hypothetical inspired by my observation.
Edward paused, asking Naomi if she could hold on to his backpack for a moment. When she grabbed it, he pulled on his long black coat, and fiddled with the collar. Recollecting his backpack, he slid it onto one shoulder, then rubbed his hands together, blowing the warm air from his mouth to heat them up. Thinking of the sweetness of the smell of his breath made me remember to take in swallows of fresh air before he made his way over to me.
As he was distracted momentarily, I watched as a stray snowball flew towards Edward’s head. I was overcome with the urge to intercept it in the event it may hit him too harshly and knock him to the pavement, but flying across the parking lot inhumanly fast twice in one week was probably not the way to go about correcting my mistakes.
The soggy snowball crashed into Edward’s hair, exploding into shards of ice and water that slid down his prominent cheekbone. I laughed aloud at his shocked expression as the curtain bangs framing his face were immediately drenched, darkening his hair into a brown color. Once he’d realized what happened, his face broke into a good-humored smile.
“Holy shit! Sorry, Edward!” The classmate who had thrown the snowball with poor aim called out.
“No worries!” Edward called back. He shook his head, chuckling as he wiped the water from his face. As he laughed, his eyes found the space where I waited and brightened seeing that I, too, was enjoying the moment.
“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told Naomi, who was too beside herself in tears of laughter to reply.
Edward sauntered over towards me, and I inhaled deeply as a fortuitous whisper of wind blew from the tree line. I held onto the notes of crisp eucalyptus, fresh snow, and cedar wood, trying to distract my mind from the offensively mouthwatering scents approaching me.
Edward was a coordinated human, but even he lost his footing on the icy pavement. His body slid forward for a moment, but I stepped towards him to close the space between us and caught him by the elbow.
He looked up from his boots against the frozen parking lot into my eyes, startled momentarily at the swiftness in which I had appeared. Then, his full lips lifted into a crooked smile that creased his astonishing green eyes into half moons. I let go immediately and took a big step back to ensure a safer distance between myself and the warmth of his fragile body. It had been a risky movement, but somehow in comparison to yesterday, it didn’t seem to matter as much. I figured our classmates were too involved in their gawking at the details of my sister’s car or their feeble, slushy snowball fight to notice, and oddly, I didn’t care that Edward had seen. It was beginning to feel too late to keep up certain pretenses.
Although, it wasn’t too late, and it shouldn’t feel that way. I reminded myself I still had every intention of leaving Edward alone once I’d figured out what was so compelling about our paths crossing that had Alice’s visions spiraling in a confusing jumble. I took another step back slowly.
“Thank you,” Edward said, his eyes humored with another secret he didn’t seem willing to share. “You keep saving me.”
“Well, let’s not make this damsel in distress thing habitual,” I snorted, turning so that he couldn’t see the smile forming on my face. I felt shy about showcasing any comfort or happiness in his presence now that I was reminded of how fleeting this experimental friendship was, but I wondered if subconsciously I wanted him to catch me in my misery and ask me to explain, though I wasn’t certain why I wanted to sabotage myself like that. I opened my door and turned to look at him again. “You coming?”
Before he could answer, I dipped into the driver’s seat, and breathed in one last time. Well, once this was all over, I could finally stop inhaling dramatically as though they were truly my last, dying breaths. The air was mostly clean of his scent, but I knew that regardless, the heat of his body would be enough to disrupt my comfort and control. As the thought crossed my mind, I painfully swallowed back the venom pooling beneath my tongue.
Edward swerved through the crowd obsessing over Rosalie’s car and opened the passenger door, sliding into his seat. As he placed his backpack on the floor and fiddled with his seatbelt, I made sure to adjust the air conditioning so that the heat could warm Edward from the frigid Forks air. Though for me, just being in his presence made the intimate interior of the car feel as though I were again sitting by his fireplace.
“That’s a beautiful car,” he murmured. “Is it an M8?”
“Uh, it’s a BMW?” I asked uncertainly as though he’d spoken another language.
Edward grinned as though he wanted to laugh but didn’t want to make me angry. Rosalie would have loved to answer all his questions if he too had an interest in cars. Would have loved to, if she wasn’t deeply offended by my actions or if I had any intention of Edward meeting any more of my family members.
“Ready?” I bit my lip as I forced out any inconsiderate plots of murder that threatened to distract me from being a defensive driver.
“Mhm,” Edward answered.
I reversed out of the parking slot slowly, but as I looked in the rearview once I’d straightened out, I saw the fleeting image of Rosalie’s exquisitely beautiful and exceptionally angry face. I quickly readjusted the mirror to remove my sister’s reflection and sped out of the parking lot in a way that could have taken out a few unlucky students if I didn’t have above average years of driving experience.
Peripherally, I watched as Edward’s thick eyebrows raised, but he decided not to question me. Once we’d reached the main road, I slowed my speed so as not to rush through this time, even though I knew for his safety and my sanity, I should. As I drove, his right hand moved in odd shapes again against the arm rest of the passenger side door as though he were playing piano once more.
I decided to bite and use up some of my limited air supply.
“What are you playing?”
“Clair de Lune again,” he replied. Then, he began to hum the melody aloud for me as he moved his hand.
I thought to offer to play the song for him through the speakers, but I decided against it as I listened to Edward’s soft, velvety voice hum beautifully through the song, breaking the silence.
The ugly, slush-like falling of snow transformed into a falling of rainwater, and Edward’s voice was orchestrated by a lovely symphony of raindrops.
Before his voice could weave into the more involved moments of the piece, Edward stopped.
I looked over at him, curious for the reason as to why. His face was turned away from me so that all I could see was his untidy bronze hair as he gazed out the window. I pulled in front of his driveway and parked against the curb.
Miraculously, I’d made it again. Carefully, I inhaled through my nose to experiment with my control. The sweet bouquet of the boy’s blood was potent and even more mouthwatering than usual from the snow turned rain that’d wet his hair. I hadn’t considered the possibility that he could smell better than before, and I kept myself from groaning aloud as I dug my nails into my own palms. The tingling sensation in my nose was as though I’d sniffed some powerful chemical, the burning sensation in my throat as though I’d taken a long drag of a cigarette. But more painful. More demanding. Desire, need flew from my core out towards my extremities, and the beating of his heart pumping the blood through his body drummed loudly in my ears. It seemed to move through me, my frigid body almost twitching with every pulse, ready to lunge forward and crush his neck to my lips.
“What was your mother like?” He asked me suddenly, his voice soft. Edward turned from the window to face me, and I was bewildered by the intensity of his expression. His eyes were light and beautiful against the gloomy grey of the sky, and they squinted slightly as though studying my face like this information was absolutely essential. But this was not what stunned me, as I’d already seen the severity of this expression before in our ephemeral time together. It was the unexpected vulnerability of his stunning face. The more time I spent looking at him, the more I realized how beautiful this human boy really was. And it seemed a great tragedy for this beautiful boy to harbor such devastation in his eyes.
Whereas previously in his presence, my thoughts had become incoherent due to a lapse in control, now my thoughts were incoherent in distress and desperation to understand what had gone wrong and how I could fix it. I was momentarily dumbfounded, but I pulled myself together after the soft sound of a few droplets of rain against the roof reminded me that he was waiting for an answer.
“Well, she looked a lot like me, but prettier,” I began stupidly. He raised his eyebrows. “Or at least, she used to look a lot like me, and I used to look a lot like her. I don’t so much anymore.” It’d been so long since I’d really spoken about my mom, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. I knew I should have made some comment about whether or not she looked like Esme or Emmett since our story made us siblings, but I didn’t want to taint the rarity of sharing who she was with a lie.
“She was more outgoing than I am,” I continued, thinking through the foggy memories I held onto from my human life.
“That’s difficult to believe,” Edward teased quietly, his lips curving into a half smile.
I laughed, listening to the melodic sound of it, thinking of how it symbolized how very much different I was now from the human girl my mother knew.
“I was always very shy,” I smiled, before speaking up again, caught in the echoes of my past. “She was brave and irresponsible and slightly eccentric. And she was a very unpredictable cook!”
I laughed aloud again thinking of some minor explosions in our tiny kitchen and some questionable dishes. Edward laughed too, but when our laughter faded into the falling of the rain, my smile faded.
“She wasn’t perfect,” I admitted. “I think I recognize now that she was very fallible. I worshipped her when I was younger, but when I think back, I do see how in some of the ways she raised me, I was done a disservice… I grew up too fast. When she died––“ I sighed, feeling insincere and guilty about perpetuating this lie when I really should have said when I died, “––Esme became more of a mother to me, and even Rosalie’s been more traditionally nurturing than my mom ever was… But still, she was my best friend.”
“You miss her,” he murmured simply. I met his gentle eyes.
“Yes,” I bit my lip.
“How old are you, Bella?” Edward asked. “And not the formulaic, theorized version where you were born in your thirties. How old are you really?”
I tensed, wondering if he was asking this again because he’d taken note of how I didn’t directly answer this question the last time he asked.
“Seventeen,” I answered automatically.
“You don’t seem seventeen,” he responded, reproachful.
The tension left my body at the tone of his voice. I smiled again easily.
“Sorry?” I asked, biting my lip to hide the smile, unsure of how to respond.
Edward chuckled and the subtle crinkles by his eyes lit up his face. “Well, I wish you’d been given a happier, normal childhood.”
“I’m fine,” I shrugged, brushing it off. “I hardly remember most of it, and what I do remember reminds me that I probably didn’t have much chance at a normal childhood to begin with. I was terribly shy, remember.
“I did do girl scouts, though….Oh, and ballet briefly,” I admitted, unsure as to why I was volunteering so much information about myself. Wasn’t the purpose of me sitting here to uncover information about him?
“Why does that make you… embarrassed?” Edward’s eyebrows pulled up.
For an odd moment, I felt betrayed by the flush of my cheeks before I realized there was no blood rushing to my face. I blinked, bewildered by the peculiarity of this long buried instinct to become frustrated with my easy blushes when I hadn’t blushed for years. I felt self conscious as I wondered what Edward saw reading my expression to so perfectly decipher my feelings.
“I was very uncoordinated,” I dismissed his question as I fought the urge for my hand to flutter to touch my cool cheek.
“Now that truly is difficult to believe,” Edward half-smiled. “I can’t imagine I’ve seen anyone as graceful as you.”
I laughed aloud at his compliment, though I didn’t doubt his sincerity. I knew this was true of myself. It was true of all of our kind to appear fluid and effortless, but still, no one had ever applied the word to me. My vampiric poise was irrelevant and unimpressive to my family, and the very few humans brave enough to overcome their nerves to compliment me typically found their words to fail them.
“You’re very odd,” I beamed.
“What do you mean?” The bronze-haired boy asked, again wanting to be let in on the secret. While I had an insatiable thirst, it seemed he had an insatiable curiosity.
“How old are you really? Your word choice is bizarre for someone your age, you know.”
“Oh,” he laughed easily. “Well, I’m actually not seventeen. I’m eighteen. But I’ll try to strictly adhere to a more teenage vernacular, so I can compliment you in a more acceptable way from now on.”
I looked out at the dim light of the brewing storm, my smile fading as I decided that I should probably allow him to escape me before I did something I’d regret. But I knew I wasn’t resolved enough to completely leave him alone. He made me monopolize too much of the conversation, and I wasn’t satisfied with what I knew about him yet.
I sighed aloud, and Edward, too, looked out at the rain darkened sky.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, making the assumption that our conversation was coming to an end.
“Yes,” I promised reluctantly. My eyes flickered back over to his pretty face, studying the lines of his strong jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, his full lips, committing this inconsequential face to memory as I silently resolved that this should be –– and would be –– one of the last times I’d allow myself to be this close to him. Tomorrow may well be the very last.
Likewise, as though his thoughts were in the same vein, his beautiful green eyes studied my face as well, though he did so in that mysterious way of his where he looked at me as though hoping to read my mind.
He sighed, then collected his backpack. Edward opened the door, stepping out into the bitterly cold weather. A shiver ran through his lanky body, making my body tense with perverse excitement. I cringed away from the deadly instinct and swallowed against the dryness of my yearning throat.
Edward’s tall, lean frame leaned down to peek into the car.
“Goodnight, Bella,” he spoke softly.
“Goodnight, Edward,” I almost whispered, gazing into the beauty of his dazzling green eyes.
Edward smiled his half smile, and closed the door, escaping into the building torrent of rain.
I gasped in relief at his absence, then stiffened realizing how the cab of the car was still heavily perfumed with his scent. I took in another deep breath, forcing myself to confront the burning thirst again, willing myself to manage it. I sighed as I hit the gas, making Edward disappear behind me.
Both my control and the rain pour strengthened significantly as I turned onto the long drive leading to my house. I grimaced as I wondered how I’d face my family and explain the complete reversal of what I’d promised to do. I didn’t have time to consider for much longer as suddenly, a figure appeared instantaneously in the drive. I slammed my foot on the brake immediately in shock at its appearance, not wanting to total yet another car against one of my siblings.
I peered through the windshield, unable to see through the complete downpour that submerged my vehicle as though it were underwater. It was annoying for my perfect sight to be obstructed by anything, rainwater or even the transparent windshield because of my eyes’ desire to focus on the microscopic scratches.
The car violently screeched against the muddy pavement, and it looked as though we would have to bid this car goodbye until the figure hidden by the storm placed their hands out on the car roughly and forced it to a stop. The tires screamed in protest, and the metal groaned as it warped into the shape of the palms. I listened as it unnaturally bent again in a piercing moan as the figure fixed the indentions they’d created.
My windshield wipers swatted away a flood of water. Finally, I could make out my sister Rosalie, her hair dripping wet down her back like a supermodel who’d just emerged from a pool on the cover of Sports Illustrated. Her exquisite face was absolutely furious.
I gulped, feeling like a child who’d just been discovered sneaking home past curfew.
I felt uncertain as to what to do and why she’d chosen to stop me here. Surely she could wait for us to be under the cover of the garage before she chastised me. Not wanting to be drenched by the rain, I revved the engine to ask her to move aside, but the car didn’t inch forward against her strength. Beginning to feel annoyed, I revved the engine again loudly and for longer, but still, she didn’t move.
“Rose,” I hissed as I hit the brake again so that the car could roar viciously in the storm, only to be cut off by the voice of my adopted mother.
“Girls!” I couldn’t see Esme through the obscured glass behind the downpour, but even with the barrage of the rain, I could hear her lithe steps run furiously to the front porch. “Please!”
Rose’s head snapped up to look in Esme’s direction before turning to glance unhappily back at me. She stepped aside, and I sped into the garage, parking the car hastily.
I exited immediately and went to expect the damage to the front of the hood. It was only a minuscule bend from having been pushed and prodded back and forth, and I was positive Rosalie could make it look like new, though why it had been necessary to punish the car was beyond me. It wasn’t even mine.
I wheeled around once I’d heard the near-silent steps of her run, a wave of anger making me forget my guilt.
“Are you insane?!” I demanded.
“I could ask the same of you, Bella!” Now free from the obscurity of the rain, I could see in perfect detail the stunning fury of her glorious face. Her golden hair had been darkened by the rain, and it was slicked back effortlessly, like a glittering waterfall down to the middle of her back. She looked like a wrathful god, but I couldn’t find it in my stubbornness to care about how valid her anger may be.
“Okay, but did you have to take it out on the car? What did it ever do to you! You couldn’t have waited another twenty seconds to confront me? Well, you have my attention now, Rosalie, so say whatever it is you want to say!”
“You’re just unbelievable, Bella!”
“He’s not going to say anything, Rose! We already talked about this yesterday. You heard Alice! He’s not a threat to you and Emmett, so I don’t understand why you’re taking this so personally.”
“Exactly, Bella. I heard Alice. Which is precisely why I fail to understand as to why you wouldn’t understand why I’d take it so personally. After all these years of sisterhood, how can you not understand how I feel about this?”
I frowned, my forehead puckering, but still, I retained my anger. She huffed, continuing.
“If it was an inevitability, I’d understand. However, it hurts me deeply that you recognize the choice that you have. The choice that Edward has. And still, you’re willing to play with his mortality as though it were a game, when I never had that choice.”
I froze, the realization dawning on me that she was right. No matter the ways in which I tried to justify my actions or spin my intentions, she was right. Another part of my mind acknowledged that while I was aware of right and wrong, I wasn’t certain that what was right would be enough to keep me away anymore.
We stared each other down much like we had yesterday. Only today, rather than anger, her face was contorted in hurt, and mine was contorted in hopelessness.
“But… you found Emmett when he was still human…” I weakly protested, selfishly trying to highlight the irony, though I knew it was pointless as I wasn’t advocating for Edward to be changed either. That was too complicated a thought to wrap my mind around. But whatever may happen –– and I was still very much aware of the worst of possibilities –– I didn’t want my sister to hate me for it.
“He was dying, Bella,” Rosalie whispered. The anger on her face had completely faded, and in its place, pain marked her eyebrows, her full lips, her golden, sad eyes. In her sadness, she looked like a work of art, like one of those paintings of a weeping saint. “It’s not the same.”
I didn’t have a response to that, and I felt as though I was at an impasse, both with myself and with Rosalie. Because I knew the promises I’d made and broken, but I knew the promise I’d made to Edward today, and I had no willpower, no desire, and no intention to break that promise.
“You may not feel anything for him now,” Rosalie began, her eyes intently fierce as they bore into mine to warn me. Only this warning felt significantly more horrible than I’d imagined it may be, because it wasn’t made in anger, but in desperation and love. “But if Alice is right, you will. And it seems to me a horrible way to repay someone you love to steal their life, their future, their soul from them. You should leave him alone now while you still can, because once you love him… it’ll only hurt more one way or another. And you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your existence. I know I have.”
And with that, Rose turned, her face cold and sad, and she left the garage.
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Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: multiple)
A/N: Missed y'all. I don't think I'm officially off of my hiatus, but I somehow managed to pull a chapter out of my ass after months of radio silence. I really did back myself into a corner with the last chapter, but hey, this is my story and I get to pace it however I want.
Sorry if things are worded weirdly, I'm writing them but they're going through one ear and out the other when it comes to comprehending what I actually wrote. No one will remember what happened, but that's okay. God, I really need a beta-reader... Anyways. Love y'all. XOXO.
Also, sorry if any of the formattings seems off. HTML doesn't really translate well over certain sites. (Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, and AO3 are now my main places for posting my works. Anywhere else, that's not me nor was it permitted by me.)
If you want a recap: You're in the process of jumpstarting Project Renaissance after realizing that you've just been doing basically nothing ever since you woke up in your old body. You've also taken to making video logs to report down your progress, and in the last chapter (that was in the POV of multiple video logs), it ended on a cliffhanger with Barnes being discovered and moved to a safe house.
This chapter takes place roughly after the last one.
If you're currently binge reading this story, this recap is only because last chapter was updated... Roughly more than 7 months before this chapter. So. Yeah. :D
Oh, and let's pretend that either A. Barnes doesn't have a tracking chip in his arm OR B. he did, but you got it out during the whole rescue-escapade. That's my bad, I straight up forgot about that possibility until I was like, close to 4000 words deep into this chapter. Now we're at roughly 8k+... Hehe. Whoops.
_______
You're not gonna call Barnes, Bucky.
There's a personal touch to the nickname that bothers you. How awful it sounds in your ears, to call the former husk of a man a name he no longer recognizes. There's history to that name, both on writing and in memory, though only in sparsity. Plus, it'll be difficult for you to associate Bucky to Barnes. A man with an identity to a man without.
So after the whole debacle of getting him out of the mini-Hulk playbox and into decent dry clothing, when he asks what his name is, you quietly debated to yourself what to tell him.
"... Your name is James Buchanan Barnes," you'd eventually reply.
He doesn't comment on the resignation in your tone, but you're confident that he certainly noticed it- surely, the ticks of being the Winter Soldier was still there, no matter how disoriented he must be. But whether courtesy was something that he hadn't forgotten whilst his brain was refried over and over like leftover KFC wings or he was simply too exhausted to ask, you didn't care.
Granted, for a man who should have a lot of questions on his mind, he's definitely proven himself to be a man of very few words.
An hour goes by, and in the midst of you trying your best to build a solid standing between the two of you, he's said so few words that you could probably count all of them on both of your hands.
If it weren't for the nods of affirmation, you'd think that his averted gaze from you would have meant that he wasn't paying attention at all, but honestly, you knew better than to judge him for that if he actually wasn't actually listening in the first place.
Hell, he could tear up the walls to the high heavens and you still wouldn't hold him against it, so you were just thankful that he was so docile, for someone who could snap your neck if he felt so inclined.
Though, as it turns out confusion and disorientation wasn't the actual reason why he was being so docile, you belatedly realize as you're stood in front of a blank-faced Barnes. You're in the middle of trying to give him a basic tour around the house when he quietly interrupted your monologuing.
"Mission parameters," you echoed his words, though mainly to yourself. He nods, and for once meets your eyes. There's neither confidence nor surrender in his eyes, and that makes your stomach churn. Chances are, he probably saw nothing wrong with asking such a thing.
"You want me to give you- mission parameters. Like- like your handlers would?" You laughed incredulously, but the humor was replaced with subdued hysterical horror.
You were aware of what they were. Aware of the types of hunts his Handlers- bastards- would sick him out on. Aware of what he did without a second thought. You saw those files, if only briefly. That was more than enough for you to see the type of expectations that came alongside "mission parameters".
He nods as if you were stating the obvious.
God.
You opened and closed your mouth, and for a split second, once you got past the horror of being asked to tell him what to do, a subtle realization crawled up your spine. In the midst of your impromptu introduction and briefing, you never really made a distinction as to what role you were supposed to play in all of this.
So it shouldn't be a surprise for Barnes to assume that you're his new- what? Handler? Caretaker? After all, as far as you can assume, that's probably all he knows; all he was conditioned to grow accustomed to, to expect his every move to be dictated by some outsider with no care to the wants or needs that Barnes has.
(Hell, if you were to make a reach right now, maybe Barnes thinks he doesn't have wants or needs. That he shouldn't.)
(In the background, a part of you simmer in silence.)
With your jaw clenched, you make an effort to make your voice as even as can be when you ask him, "You don't need mission parameters, Barnes. You're your own free man. You can- can make decisions on your own. You don't need me to tell you what you need to do."
Pray as you might, there's something about realizing that you said the wrong thing right after saying said words that make you wonder what you did to anger the higher powers that be to put yourself in the situation you're in right now.
Barnes doesn't say anything, but his eyes says it all. Confusion. Realization. Grief. Detachment. His metal hand clenches, and you're man enough to admit that it made your heart stutter in fear.
"I...", he mutters, "... don't understand."
You swallowed.
This...
This is gonna be tough.
_______
It's difficult to explain what self-autonomy and freedom meant to a man who is only capable of remembering being chained and held on a leash like a rabid dog.
Thankfully, it was your winter break, so you had a manageable excuse for being away from "home" for a few days, but you only had so long to try and establish to Barnes that you're not going to be able to be there with him as often as you are now (and even then, the time frame was too small to even make any sense of attachment).
You knew for sure you couldn't always be there for Barnes, so one thing was certain: he had to meet DAHLIA. And thankfully, since the whole safe house was yours, not even your father knew that DAHLIA, your own A.I., would be uploaded into the houses' built-in hardware.
(While the hardware was built with the intention of housing J.A.R.V.I.S. there as a standard, he ended up "moving out" the moment that the house became yours. Something about "not intruding on a teenager's privacy", but you're more than thankful for Tony's afterthought, even if you did end up taking slight advantage of his consideration.)
And surprisingly enough, Barnes wasn't really bothered by the concept of DAHLIA as much as you had initially expected. Of course, he didn't really talk to her, but it wasn't like he talked much in the first place.
(On a side note, it looks like DAHLIA seems to like the house, all things considered... So there's that.)
(The original DAHLIA was never installed here, instead she ended up "living" in a retirement house of sorts in a wooded area of New York. She never said anything about the house, so it's... Kind of endearing, to see that she actually might prefer this house instead. And mildly insulting, considering you personally decorated the other house.)
You ended up spending nearly the whole night trying to establish even the most basic of guidelines: use the bathroom whenever he needed to (you initially said phrased it as "wanted", but he promptly cut you off saying "The Asset does not have wants," which, rude, but also sad); whatever is in the kitchen is available for him to eat whenever, where ever; basic hygiene; and the most important one- if he had any questions, his first source would be you. And on the off-chance that you're not available, DAHLIA is always online and ready to help.
He gave a tentative nod, but you're somehow not confident that he might have interpreted it wrong. You're hoping he doesn't do anything to prove you right.
"Alright. So. Any questions?"
He stares at you for a beat too long before shaking his head.
He's still giving non-verbal answers for the most part, but it's better than nothing. You internally sighed and motioned him to follow you deeper into the safe house.
Considering that it was already pretty late by the time you managed to beat those guidelines into his head (maybe that should be worded better, but you never claimed to be a lyricist; it is what it is), he might be just as tired as you are from how long the day has been.
(Granted, this dude has been "asleep" for who knows how long, but it's the thought that counts.)
"You know where I'm taking you to?" you asked, not really expecting an answer from him.
"No," he responds from behind you. Color you surprised.
You turned into the hallway and stepped up to an unassuming door. You opened it to reveal an equally unassuming bedroom. Muted colors, modern design; it reeked Pepper's doing, knowing that Tony isn't as decoratively-inclined as she is.
Hah, bet she didn't expect that instead of housing you or your dad, it'll go to a super-solder that wasn't Steve instead.
(Not that Steve would ever have a reason to step foot in here, but in this line of work, you'd be stupid to be 100% sure about something.)
You motioned him to come into the room and tilted your head to the bed.
"This is your bedroom, pretty much where you'll be sleeping. There's a bathroom right over there," you motioned to the door adjacent to the entrance door, "and I'll be in the room right next to yours."
Barnes takes a second to process it all, and with a quick scan of the room with calculating eyes, he nods. You absentmindedly scratched the back of your neck.
"I mean, there's plenty of rooms here so if you don't like this one, just let me know and we'll probably move you to another room-" you rambled, secretly trying to get a move on so you'd finally get some shut-eye.
(What? You're not perfect, sleep is heavily slept on in this day and age. Hah.)
(God, you're definitely going to hell.)
"-and you know how to use a toilet, right?"
The raised eyebrow pointed at you definitely proves that that was a pretty stupid question, but hey, you can't take any chances. You shrugged, a tired smirk threatening to form on your lips.
"Well then. Can I leave it to you to settle down for the night, or...?" you left it open-ended.
He didn't say anything in response, only stared at the bed in front of him. There was a pregnant pause, but he nodded at you. There was a strange tilt to his eyes, but you didn't bother to think further into it as you were just thankful that you could finally rest.
"Well then, good night Barnes. I'll come by tomorrow morning and we'll continue to, er," you thought about it, "work, on your situation."
You made a swift exit out of his room and immediately into "your" room, which was literally right next to his. You immediately discarded your clothes and with a brisk shower and teeth brushing, you promptly dropped straight onto the bed with an audible grunt, wet hair soaking straight into the pillow.
Pulling the plush duvet to cover your body, you reached for your phone to check for any messages you might have gotten.
(3 from Tony; he asked where you were. You told him that you're staying at a safe house and that you needed a small break. It wasn't wrong, but definitely an omission of truth. A few days would be fine, right?)
(2 from Rhodey; it's a picture of a Goodwill's, and there's a silhouette in a nearby window of some guy. "This you?" he asks. "No ❤️," you sent back.)
(63 is from the group chat that the Avengers are in- ah, make that 64 and counting. It's just a bunch of nonsense from what you can gather, but you briefly scrolled through it anyways.)
Turning your phone off, you smushed your face into the pillow and sighed, a terrible knot forming at the pit of your stomach. With an open ear, you tried to hear any noise that could come from Barnes' room, but considering that the walls were reinforced and he was already quiet as it is, all you could hear was the AC running in the background.
"DAHLIA," you huffed, eyes drooping, "keep an eye on him, wake me up if anything happens."
"Got it," her voice echoes from the ceiling speakers.
You quietly tucked yourself in bed. As the exhaustion finally started settling in your body, the last thought that lingered in your head was "Man, I hope nothing bad happens tomorrow," before you drifted right off to dreamless slumber.
_______
The next day was, to say the least, a little disconcerting, but a bigger improvement to be sure.
Right after waking up, you begrudgingly put on some daytime appropriate clothes and stepped out into the hallway. You knocked on the door that was right next to yours, and gingerly opened it when you didn't hear much of a response.
"Good morning," you tentatively greeted. Barnes was sitting at the foot of the bed when you knocked on his door. He mumbled back a greeting and stands up to your eye level.
His clothes are still the same from last night, and judging by the clean state of his bed, he either woke up earlier than you expected or he was sat like that the whole night.
You're not too keen on finding out which was the case, but you had to.
"Sleep well?"
You stepped out of the doorway and motioned him to follow you. Briefly glancing down at your phone to see just a few messages waiting for you, you opted to ignore them for now.
"I slept."
He quietly stated from behind you. He avoided saying if he slept well or not, but at least the damn Terminator slept. You mentally deflated a little; the bar was set so low for him, you're not too sure who it's more insulting to- you or him.
(Of course, it's to him, that shouldn't be a question. Your feelings don't matter.)
"We're gonna have to wing this a little, but uh, here's the general gist of what's gonna happen."
Stepping into the kitchen, you're taken aback to last night as he tentatively stands across from you from the kitchen island. Really, you'd opt to go to the living room, but you both radiate too much nervous energy to really sit.
You opened the refrigerator and sighed when all that greeted you was water and non-perishables. Right. You just got here, it's not like there's gonna be freshly stocked food in here 24/7.
"DAHLIA, order some fresh food and get it delivered today. Charge it on my debit," you mumbled quietly.
DAHLIA doesn't say anything, but the refrigerator lights flicker a familiar green hue that keys you in that she heard you. You raised an impressed eyebrow; what an unnecessary feature for a refrigerator to have. You closed the door and turned around to face Barnes.
"I'm here to serve as, say, a guide for," you gestured to him, "your... rehabilitation, of sorts."
"For now, I can't really offer any... Professional help, on a technical level. I'm not- that's not my area of expertise. I'm an engineer at heart," actually, you really liked other things more than being an engineer, but your fate of becoming the CEO of SI was sealed the moment you decided to live with your dad, "so we're going to have to make a compromise on that."
You shook your head.
"If you were anyone else, I'd point you to a shrink," Barnes gives you a confused stare.
"Therapist," you clarified. He nods.
"But quite frankly," Zemo's face flashes in your memory, "I don't trust anyone to properly... Well, I don't trust anyone when it comes to the mental health of you, and the Avengers too, of course."
Pausing mid-rant, you raised an eyebrow at him.
"You... do know who the Avengers are, right?"
He nods and begins to rattle off a pre-scripted monologue. His eyes are blank as he started speaking.
"A group of top priority, compromised of highly skilled individuals, enhanced or otherwise specified. Threat priority ranges from 5 to 9. As of now, 6 active-duty members and 1 reserve member. The Asset is to not engage under any circumstance and reveal-"
"Alright alright, I get it- that's," you're a little offended that you're considered a "reserve member", but that's not technically wrong, "That's a lot to unpack there, but yeah. You- whew, you definitely know who the- we are."
(You've gotten into the habit of distancing yourself from the Avengers the moment that you had become CEO. You're still working on that, but the word "we" still feels wrong on your tongue.)
There's a little more life that came back to Barnes' eyes after you had snapped him out of it, and it's a bit surreal knowing that Barnes just kinda... runs on autopilot when prompted. The image of Barnes being strapped down in a chair and forced to learn and recite those kinds of things by heart is both horrifying and a little funny.
(Do you think they had a set curriculum he had to learn by?)
"So yeah. The Avengers gotta be careful when lookin' for shrinks, and so do you. There's just too many factors that go into gettin' a personal therapist. So for now," you shrugged, "you're stuck with me."
"What are they?"
"Hm?"
"The factors."
You shrugged.
"Well, for starters, you're- you were, HYDRA's prisoner," the muscle around his jaw visibly clenches when you mentioned HYDRA, but you powered through, "so they'll definitely be interested in getting their fight dog back. They're good at blending in and good at getting their musty little fingers into every nook and cranny. I wouldn't put it past them to have one of their agents go undercover as a therapist for hire. So that's one factor: trying to discern who is and isn't HYDRA."
You raised a finger.
"Then there's the fact that because you're such a... shall we say, top priority, er, asset," that word runs bitter on your tongue, "even if your shrink isn't HYDRA, they'll definitely be targeted by HYDRA if it ever came to light that they have a direct link to you. So there's reason number two: loose ends, and the risks that come with it."
You raised another finger. By now, Barnes has a hard but contemplative curl to his lips.
"And then not to mention how unique your case it. Barnes, you've been a POW for decades. Your brain- no offense buddy, but from what I can tell, it's been fried to hell and back. I don't even have to do any fancy brain scans to know. And that's not even including all the other stuff they probably did to you, only God knows."
You shook your head.
"There's too much at risk for you to get proper therapy right now. But. It's not impossible."
You think back to Shuri, and how she and the other Wakandan scientists were successful in both removing the trigger words and rehabilitating Barnes.
Well, you're not sure about the last part, since you never interacted with the Barnes of your time, but you'd assume that they did help with his subsequent mental health. You wouldn't really put it past them- T'Challa was a nice guy, from your limited interactions with him way into the future, and Shuri was buzzing with ideas and energy. If T'Challa's sympathy for Barnes wasn't enough, then Shuri's crave to help and experiment would supplement the balance plenty. Vice versa, too.
So yeah, future-Barnes' mental health was most likely addressed during his time in Wakanda. And it was almost guaranteed to have been a success.
So you're still gonna hold a torch for the possibility that Barnes' can come out of this as a relatively well-adjusted guy.
Not to mention B.A.R.F. As far as you know, the R&D team assigned to that was still progressing smoothly, but the only downside to that was that it wasn't going to be until a few more years before it's "perfected".
You were never really involved in any way with B.A.R.F. since you were both prepping for SI and finishing college. Your dad was definitely more involved in it than you were, but it's not like you could ask him to pull a few year's worths of experimentation and knowledge out of his ass and exponentially boost the rate of B.A.R.F.'s progress, so.
Helen Cho suddenly sprang to mind, but you quickly threw away that thought. Your- well, Barnes'- issue was neurological, Cho was all about cell regeneration and is a geneticist. So unless somehow the issue crosses over with Cho's line of work, she wasn't a possibility either. There was also Strange, but as far as you've heard the man was pretty... abrasive, even as a wizard. Hard to get a hold of, and very... Hard-headed.
Well, all of that was second hand since it came from Tony, but still. Maybe you could pull Tony in for some clout, but that'll just make him suspicious. God, maybe you shouldn't have kept the whole "I'm actually from the future" spiel a secret, otherwise you wouldn't have to be doing all this crap alone.
Oh well. In for a penny, out for a pound.
You sighed, already feeling the dull thump against your skull starting to form.
"So what now?" Barnes asks. He's less tentative than he was last night, but still soft-spoken when he talks.
"Well, you're stuck with me, bud. I'll do my best to get you prepped for the actual rehabilitation, but honestly, that might take a little longer than you'd expect. So, we'll just- well."
You eyed the outfit he was donning, which was literally your clothes- so it was a few sizes too small for him. He doesn't really seem bothered by it, and if it weren't for the fact that he's sort of proved himself to be neglectful of voicing his own preferences, you'd be a little more inclined to appreciate the view of one very, very beefy super-soldier.
But alas.
Life never really works in your favor, so.
"We'll need to get a few essential things out of the way. Food is already on its way, I assume you aren't allergic to anything?"
He pauses, and there goes that familiar glaze forming over his eyes. You sigh, knowing that he was probably searching through his mental "data-bases" for any allergies, but thankfully it's not long as he blinks back into attention.
"None."
"Yeah, I could'a figured, what with your super-soldier serum."
(You're pretty sure that also makes him immune to cancer, but maybe that's just you glorifying it.)
"So: the food situation is cleared. Now, we need to get you some new clothes because, uh, those don't look very comfortable."
"Comfort does not matter. I am adequately dressed."
You snorted. Maybe it's better that you don't tell Barnes that he's wearing a Sharknado tee and some sweats that have "Eat this!" printed on his behind.
(And maybe it's better that you didn't remember that yes, these are indeed still your clothes.)
"Comfort does matter, my guy. DAHLIA, take some quick measurements."
The kitchen light dims and brightens, shining lime green into the kitchen. It lingers and turns back into that white-blue that sometimes makes your eyes burn when you've been up for too late into the night.
"Seargent Barnes' measurements are now on file. You two want to see the available catalog?"
Right where the kitchen island was, a panel opens up to reveal a hologram of a bunch of articles of clothing, all of which has been adjusted to Barnes' size- or an approximate at least, since there's some that's labeled X or XL.
"Barnes? You got anything you want to do right now or...?"
You gestured to the hologram in front of you.
His face contorts a little, not too noticeable at a quick glance. He doesn't look uncomfortable per se, but judging by the downwards curl of his lips, he's definitely not excited to see the hologram.
You flicked your wrist and it disappeared just as quick as it appeared. Strangely enough, his expression doesn't loosen up as his eyes flicker upwards to yours.
"Hey, that's okay. If it's the hologram, that's no biggie, we'll just move over to the, uh, TV in the next room over. C'mon."
You jerked your head and motioned him to follow you. His face laxes and he walks behind you without a word.
_______
You two ended up getting a lot done all things considered.
Barnes seemed pretty bothered by how many clothing choices there are, but when you asked if he wanted you to just curate a list for him, he easily relented. He was hovering over you the whole time, but you weren't too bothered by it as you were too busy browsing for him.
You went from site to site searching for clothes that screamed "The Winter Soldier", but all that was coming up was clothes in fifty shades of black and with no pizzaz. You did pass by a few Avengers-related merch (especially yours), but he said nothing when you added two or three into your cart, so he probably doesn't care. You did show him a lot of clothes that you thought would fit him, and he nodded to pretty much all of them.
By the time you were done looking for clothes, the doorbell had rung.
("That was quick," you reminisced. DAHLIA was quick to respond.
"It came from a nearby Walmart."
"Huh.")
Barnes' head jerked as his eyes were trained on the entrance door. You patted his arm, and his eyes glance at you.
"Relax, it's just the food. DAHLIA ordered some groceries earlier."
You stood up to go answer the door, and Barnes followed suit. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't really seem like he's gonna back down anytime soon.
"You know... You can follow behind, but you're gonna have to be in the shadows or something 'cuz, you know... Just- if someone's still at the door, don't let them see you okay?"
He nods, almost mechanically so, and you turned around and walked to the entrance door.
Opening the door, you were greeted with a few big boxes. You raised an eyebrow and glanced out through the door; there are no cars nearby, and DAHLIA whispers in your ear that the clearing's safe- not a single life signature anywhere.
"Barnes, the coast's clear," you called out, already reaching down to grab one of the boxes. You grunt, adjusting your grip before you lifted and turned around.
Barnes, having already popped out of whatever dark corner he was in, is already a few feet behind you.
"Hey, you don't mind helping me bring in those boxes, will you?"
You were already walking past him, but you barely caught the briefest flash of furrowed eyebrows before you saw him walk over to the door. You mentally shrugged, but placed the box in the kitchen and went back over to the door to get the other one.
By the time you were done setting down the box, Barnes had already closed the door and was standing under the arch connecting the kitchen to the main hallway.
You motioned him over, and he complied.
"What is inside?"
You're almost proud that you didn't jump. He doesn't talk much, but when he does it always startles you.
"Groceries, but I don't know what specifically. DAHLIA chose all of it. And by the looks of it, she chose a lot. So. You're gonna help me unpack and we'll probably- well, I'll probably make some food. You can help if you want."
Your back was turned to him, and you started unloading the boxes and their contents. Barnes doesn't move for a hot moment, but he squats down next to you and starts unwrapping the smaller boxes that were inside it.
"You don't mind if I put on some music, right?"
You glanced at him.
"I... don't. Mind," he mumbles, tentatively glancing back at you. You gave him a brief thumbs up and turned your attention back to
"DAHLIA, play something chill. Low volume."
_______
Pretty much, the whole day consisted of unpacking all of the groceries that had been delivered. You ended up pausing, having gotten tired of being awake without food in your stomach, and made some food for the two of you.
You tried conversing with him, trying to get him to at least feel more comfortable, and it... kinda worked. There are a few touchy subjects that he doesn't really seem to like talking about (he doesn't really vocalize his discomfort, but his flinches, no matter how minute they were, spoke louder than words). HYDRA, obviously. Anything revolving the Avengers put him off as well, among other things.
Really, most of the eating consisted of small talk and eating noises, but at least some of the tension in his shoulders had lessened by the time that you two needed to get back to unpacking. Hell, by the time that was done, Barnes' clothes had arrived.
(Oh, the benefits of being insanely rich. Say it with me kids: Thank you, Tony!)
You're usually a little apprehensive about buying clothes online, but color you surprised when not only did all of them fit; Barnes didn't have a single problem with any of them.
"You like 'em?"
You whistled when Barnes came out of his bathroom, now back in your clothes that you had given him originally. He tried all of them on, and you ended up buying him so many clothes that a lot of time had passed by the time he was done. You just sat on his bed, slowly collecting all of the clothes and ripping off the tags, damned if he didn't like one of them; you'll just take it instead.
"They're adequate," he nodded. In his hand were the folded clothes (A camo tee and dark sweatpants), and he set them onto his bed with the other folded clothes.
"Did any of 'em uncomfortable? Too tight, any of the fabric feels wrong...?"
You left the question open-ended as you helped him dump it into a laundry bin. He doesn't respond right away as if he didn't hear you. His eyes flicker over to yours.
"... No. They- I..." the muscle under his eye spasms, "I liked them..."
You grinned, "Glad to hear that, guess we got lucky that none of these was a dud, huh?"
The ghost of a smile that was on his lips appeared briefly, but it was gone just as fast as it had appeared.
Really, that had basically been the peak of the day before things had started to mellow out a little bit. But that was okay, you took whatever it was that Barnes gave, and if it was just the smallest smile you've ever seen on a man, then so be it.
Afterward, the day somehow managed to blend together and pass along like an exhale. Not much happened, since you couldn't really- well, offer anything that could scientifically and medically help him. So you opted to just- try to get him up to date as much as possible.
Honestly, by the time that you had gotten through the first three decades (starting when he was born), it was already pretty late into the night.
(He had a lot of questions, and you really didn't blame him. Hell, most of the more personal information really came from DAHLIA, because as much as you sympathized with the man, you really didn't care to learn about his whole entire biography.
But, at least you answered most of the history related questions. If you had to go through a few history college classes back when you were in college, then you'll be damned if you didn't at least make an effort to learn and internalize them.)
Barnes didn't really show any signs of exhaustion if the casual leg bouncing wasn't enough, but you sure were pooped.
(What? Unlike your dad (and most of the Avengers) you actually had a normal internal clock. For the most part, anyway.)
"Well, as much as I liked talking about prehistoric times," you sounded sarcastic, but you actually did like it, "I gotta sleep, I don't run on super-soldier energy like you do bub."
You stood up, stretched, and saw that Barnes was now standing up as well.
"Should I...?"
Raising an eyebrow, you huffed in good nature, "Go to sleep? Yeah, probably. We're not done with the History101 crash course, and we'll probably be talking about other things tomorrow as well," especially about the fact that you're not gonna be at the safe house often soon, "so we both need the energy for that. So, go clean up and get some Z's, yeah?"
"Oh."
He looked a little lost but followed you back into your shared hallway. Stopping in your doorway, you turned your head to glance at Barnes.
"Good night, Barnes," you nodded, not waiting for a response as you headed into your room. It was quiet and almost inaudible, but you still heard it with your ears before you had closed the door shut.
"... Good night."
You stood in your room, a sudden wave of both exhaustion and dread flooding your body. You shook it off though; it was just the nervous jitters hitting you at an inopportune time.
But really, you trusted your guts almost as much as you trusted Tony.
So as you brushed your teeth and did your business in the bathroom, you tried to quell the anxiety that was building up in your chest.
"DAHLIA, keep an eye on him."
"Gotcha, doll."
You sighed, dropped onto your bed, and hoped that whatever it was that might happen, you'd be prepared for it.
_______
And lo and behold, it didn't even have to be the next morning before shit all hit the fan when DAHLIA wakes you up in the middle of the night (3 A.M., to be specific).
"-oll, wake up! Barnes is having a panic attack!"
It takes half a second to process the fear in DAHLIA's voice. It takes another to process her words.
Fuck.
Scrambling immediately out the bed, you thanked whatever higher being there is that you were sleeping with at least some sweatpants on as you booked it straight to your door and right through Barnes'.
(Maybe you should have joined the football team, because that would have been one wicked tackle. Ha, yeah right, you know nothing about football.)
The lights were on, most likely DAHLIA's doing, and his bedsheets were clearly mussed up. He's nowhere to be seen, so your eyes jump to the joined bathroom door, and lo and behold, there was light bleeding through the cracks.
You quickly approached the door and opened it, throwing away the worry that he might have been absolutely naked.
The good news was that he wasn't nude.
The bad news was that he was hunched over on the ground, right in front of the bathroom counter, and he's gripping his head so tightly you would have thought his skull would have caved in.
Terror shoots down your spine like a lightning bolt, and you immediately rushed to the curled over Barnes, adrenaline rushing through you as a million thoughts ran through your head.
"Barnes!"
He doesn't appear to hear you, groaning and panting as he further curled in on himself. His muscles spasm, hard, and you're at a loss at what to do. He's sickly pale, and the sheen on his skin makes you want to vomit. His panting is shallow, and if you weren't sure if the glint that shone in your eyes was the reflection off of the marble floors or a puddle of saliva coming from Barnes.
You're not sure if touching him right now is a good thing, but you'll be damned if he wasn't your responsibility now. You reach out to him, wrapping one arm around his hunched back and the other trying to pry at his wrists.
(Would you have touched him, if you didn't have the reassurance that DAHLIA has your back?)
(Shut up.)
Maybe you were tensing up for him to go all "Winter Soldier" mode on you, but he's the one that tenses, even more, when you touched him. Thankfully, he doesn't resist your pull as his arm is limp the moment you tried to pull it back, but it doesn't change the fact that he's shaking, badly, and your mind is frozen in limbo.
"DAHLIA, what-"
You're at a loss for words, but DAHLIA, sweet DAHLIA already knows what you were about to ask.
"Sergeant Barnes was displaying elevated levels of anxiety, however, it did not seem to warrant any mentions. I thought-"
She cuts herself off, almost as if she was worried that she had made a wrong call. You swallowed, knowing that despite being a baby A.I., she's never done wrong by you- both in the future and now.
"You thought what?"
You try to rub Barnes' back as if he was a dog that had needed soothing. He groans, but you're not sure if you should interpret that as a hurt groan or a relieved one. You paused and moved your hand away, hovering it just inches away from his back, and his breath hitches.
Your hand dropped onto his back once again, and you could feel the muscles on his muscles spasm a little; his whimpers aren't as loud and painful (though, they're still more than worrying).
So, on the very small bright side, back rubs don't seem to be hurting him either. It's a small win, but a win for sure.
"You- my visuals were clear in the conclusion that you saw it. His discomfort. Your body language and expression acknowledged it but you refrained from addressing it. I- acted under the assumption that it was all under control..."
Something in your mind pauses for a pregnant second before your eyes widened.
"What?"
DAHLIA doesn't even get the chance to reply as Barnes jerks his hands away from yours and pulls at his scalp again. You lurched forward.
"Hey! No!"
You bit back a growl as you grabbed his wrists once again. You yank them back down to his sides as his body jolts, a sob ripping through him. You placed a hand on his chest and tried to boost him back up so he'll have his back against the bathtub that's behind him.
He offers little to no resistance as his back makes contact with the bathtub, but he's slumped into himself. He pulls his knees forward and curls his head into them. For a super-soldier, it's almost cute how hard he's trying to take up as little space as possible if it weren't for the fact that your heart was absolutely breaking at the sight of him.
"Oh, Barnes..."
In shuddered breaths, he mumbles something incoherent.
"...-an't, I- I- I-.... -can't..."
He shakes his head, jolting as if someone had shocked him. You rubbed his arm, glancing down at what you can now confirm to be a puddle of saliva, and then over to the trash can right next to the toilet. You're not too sure if you should get it just in case he decides to vomit, but you're ready to lunge for it the moment Barnes shows any signs of gagging.
"DAHLIA," you spoke at a lower volume, "what- when was he, um, uncomfortable."
"Two nights ago, roughly 22:00, when you told Sargeant Barnes that he was his own free man. Yesterday morning, 08:00, when you asked if he wanted to do anything prior to browsing the available clothing catalog. Right after, he was also discomforted by the catalog, before you offered to buy clothes for him. At-"
"That's- that's enough," you breathlessly muttered. DAHLIA doesn't say anything else, but the air has suddenly become heavier than you remembered.
Your head was almost dizzy with not only how many instances Barnes had been anxious in such a short time, but also at how you remembered each and every instance with startling clarity.
Barnes was anxious at the idea of freedom, but you put it off and opted to just give him a nickel tour of the house.
Barnes was anxious when you asked if he wanted to do anything before looking at clothes, but looked too relieved when you brushed over it.
Barnes was anxious at the idea of shopping for fucking clothes but was okay after you took over for him.
The taste of stomach acid burned your tongue, as yesterday's dinner threaten to rise at the implication of all of this.
"DAHLIA," you mumbled, "the- the rest of those instances- do they..."
You trained your eyes on Barnes.
"Do they all- follow the same... The same- pattern?"
DAHLIA was always in tune with you, even after the time jump.
"... Yes," she lamented.
"God..."
Now, you're not sure who that trash can would be really for; you or Barnes.
"Barnes..."
You murmured quietly. He flinches, and his shaking hasn't gotten any better.
"What- what was it? Was it- was it all too much? God, I'm so sorry, it probably was, wasn't it? I should have- fuck, I should have taken it more slowly, I-"
Barnes shakes his head, stopping you in your rambling. You blinked rapidly.
"Then- was it..." you paused, "... Was it the choices?"
It's almost expected that he doesn't answer you straight away, but he nodded anyway.
"I... It was- it was too much- I couldn't- I don't know- I-"
His breath shuddered with each word as if it hurt him to just even speak right now. You shushed him, ignoring the intrusive thought that it was akin to shushing an animal.
"Hey, hey, it's- it's okay. You'll be okay."
It's not much, what you're saying to him, and it's no surprise that they didn't do much anyway.
Honestly, you didn't know what to say at this point. There didn't even seem to be any phrasing in the known English language that would be able to comfort a man with as much baggage on his shoulders as Barnes, and briefly, just briefly, you wished that you were literally anywhere in the world, but here.
You tried thinking about anything that came from your (albeit limited) interactions with him between the past days that would help ground him, before something jolts you from deep within.
("What are my mission parameters," Barnes asked from behind you.
You paused.
"Mission parameters?")
You didn't even realize that you had said that out loud, but Barnes had tensed up even more before you could even take it back. He held his breath, audibly swallowing.
("You don't need mission parameters, Barnes. You're your own free man. You can- can make decisions on your own. You don't need me to tell you what you need to do.")
("I... Don't understand...")
You spoke on impulse.
"You... You need them, don't you? Mission parameters."
Immediately, you regretted even speaking up just as those words left your mouth.
While every fiber in your being hoped that it wasn't true, there was a small inkling in your head that already knew the answer to your question. It was the only thing that was barely even logical enough to make sense.
His apprehension of making a choice.
How uncomfortable in his own skin he always appeared, despite it even being just a few days.
How relieved he always looks, when the choice was already made for him.
His body tenses underneath your hand, but it's the slight bob of his head that makes your stomach drop. You thought- what a fool you were- you thought he'd be okay without being ordered around, but that was nothing but wishful thinking.
(What was the saying? It's hard to teach an old dog a new trick, was it?)
(Yeah.)
Looking at how only a few days of what you had originally thought was Barnes' newfound freedom turned out to be much more of a nightmare for Barnes, it might just be better for the both of you to push aside your comfortability and start making an honest-to-God investment into Barnes' recovery, even if that means that you had to take a step backward.
A very, very risky step backward.
It was a shot in the dark, but it was the only thing that you could place your bets on for now.
You just hoped that your aim wouldn't fail you now.
"Okay, well... How about this, Barnes, here's your main- your main mission, okay? Become a free man. Hey, no, look at me," you swiveled his head so he could look at you. His eyes were panicked, crazed, and irredeemably sad, but you had to make sure nothing crossed through your face so he'd know that everything will be okay. Your grip on both sides of his face was firm as you pleaded with him.
"Your only 'mission' right now? Breathe," ironically, his breath hitched, "If not for your own sake, then for mine."
You swallowed, heart stuttering as you looked into his glassy eyes.
"Please," you let your desperate prayer lingered in the air.
Maybe it was being given a task to accomplish after days of trying to figure out what to do with his supposed new "freedom", or it was how non-labor intensive and just... simple, his new mission parameter was, but it was almost instantaneous how all of the tension in his body dissipated into thin air.
Witnessing the moment of mercy upon grief through Barnes, no matter how brief or temporary it may be, was almost cathartic.
Almost.
(Perhaps you shouldn't be looking for absolution vicariously. But you were never really a good person, were you?)
_______
A/N: I've read a lot of WinterIron fics. While I have read a lot of interpretations about how Barnes would have reacted when he was freshly freed from HYDRA, this is how I choose to interpret it- one that would best fit the story for now. Next chapter, since I couldn't fit it in this chapter, is a special, but it is very much important and related to the story, and Barnes as a character. If you're familiar with some WinterIron tropes, this won't be too foreign of an idea. Not too sure about other ships/ stories, but. Ah, I'm rambling. Anyways, see you next year lol.
_______
Masterlist
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Tagged: @unsolvetheheckoutofit @tonystanktheirondad @ludwigvonbaethoven @rspctot7 (if you’re not @/ fabledxmystery, so sorry for the mistag! LMK if it’s not you) @tolkoskott @klanceiscannon14 @deos-life (grr it won’t let me tag you) @kp1183 (kperla1183) @xyuriko-akamine (akabaneyuriko) @kettnerjanea @soldier-42 @daybreakmistakes @spnfanboy777 @crash-zite @jm-cy
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Fic Writer Questions
My friend @disdaidal didn't actually tag me in this... but I'm doing it anyway because I'm bored out of my mind, alone at home and slightly drunk, lol.
How many works do you have on AO3?
10. I hope to make it 11 sometime soon but who tf knows how soon is soon when we're talking about me.
What’s your total AO3 wordcount?
56 913.
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
On AO3, I have written for 4 fandoms. Led Zeppelin and Queen (yes I read and write RPF among other things, those who don't like that can gtfo), Pacific Rim (lol at the pairing I've written for that one, it's not like I even seriously ship it but when I get an idea I get an idea, it's as simple as that) and 1990 IT-miniseries.
I have written for many other fandoms too but mostly I never finished and published anything. Some of my friends and sis got to see those writings... but not many others.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
(Heart of My) Temple Of Thought (miniseries Reddie, also my first ever Reddie fic. Fix-it fic, because duh.)
Getting Together (my Pacific Rim Newtibal fic - don't you fucking judge me, I had an idea and had to write it down.)
The Great Pretender (my Queen Maylor fic, feat. crossdressing Brian. Enough said.)
Baby Let Me Take You For A Ride (4th part in my miniseries Reddie Heading For The Light-series - it's smutty so of course y'all pervs liked that - jk I love you.)
I love you 'cos you're sweet, I love you 'cos you're naughty (Queen fic, Maylor - more crossdressing Brian and just smut. Kind of a continuation to The Great Pretender)
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
I do respond to comments. I don't get many, especially these days because I don't write for a fandom that's really big. Ok, what I mean is the IT-fandom is quite big, but not the miniseries part of it, not really. But I greatly enjoy getting comments and I appreciate every single one a lot, so I do always answer, even if it sometimes takes me a while. ❤️
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
I don't write angsty endings. I also don't read stuff with an angsty ending. That's simply not what I want to see in fanfiction at all. Keep your sad endings away from me, please.
Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?
I don't. I actually don't really like crossovers in the first place... I might consider writing something like... a crossover between the IT-miniseries and the new films, maybe, because I've read a couple really good fics like that and they worked but... really, crossovers aren't my thing. I've never really seen the appeal.
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Surprisingly enough, I haven't. Maybe the fandoms and pairings I've written for have just been small enough to not gain much attention. Or maybe my fics are too boring to get a strong reaction like that? Even if I did receive hate on one of my fics, I would simply just delete it because fuck you that's why.
Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I've been writing smut since I was like 15 and had no first hand experience about sex at all. When it comes to the fics I have on AO3 though the only kind of smut I've written has been... cock sucking. :'D The WIP I am working on currently also has some proper fucking action though.
And I haaaaave written some other quite kinky stuff just for myself featuring stuff like light bdsm and using sex toys that will never be finished or published anywhere ever but we don't talk about that, lol.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I once got informed that one of my Reddie-fics (can't remember which one... probably the one with smut) had been added by someone to Wattpad. They had not asked my permission for it but I went to look and they had credited me so I was just like 'eh whatever, idgaf'. Then out of curiosity I went to check again a few days later and I couldn't find my fic there anymore so I guess they'd deleted it again anyway. In any case, my writing is not good enough to be stolen, really, and that's that.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope. But if someone wanted to translate anything I've written they'd of course have my full permission to do so!
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No. Not sure I could. I've never even rp'd with anyone or anything, I'd be too awkward to try and actually write a fic together with someone. I'm not counting that horrible "Bible-fanfic" I wrote as a joke with one of my friends when we were maybe 13 or 14. Lmao I kinda wish I had a copy of that shit somewhere still, however.
What’s your all time favorite ship?
Impossible question. I have actively shipped things since I was like 13 years old, which means 20 years. I've had so many ships during all these years and so many still mean so much to me for different reasons, even if I don't even participate in the fandom anymore, so it'd be impossible to pick just one, or possibly even top 5!
What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
There are so many in so many fandoms... But let me just say... the sequel I had planned for that one Pacific Rim fic of mine. I have probably like... 1000 words written but am I ever going to finish it? Hell no. I mean I really wanted to finish it, once upon a time... but I started it already back in 2015. It's been 6 fucking years, lol. 😂
What are your writing strengths?
I am good at describing emotions and writing about the characters inner feelings, I guess? This is super ironic considering that I am, myself, allergic to feelings in general and never talk about mine hahahahah. Anyway, yeah. My fics usually get real lengthy because I just make everyone overthink everything and go over their emotions a lot. Idk.
What are your writing weaknesses?
See previous answer. Because of that I tend to ramble on needlessly and the plot gets lost because I keep getting distracted and describing emotions and feelings endlessly. Seriously, the amount of times I've had to delete like half of what I've already written because it's just gotten too much and is all over the place and not relevant to anything anymore is just... ugh.
But I am also not really great at doing much research about stuff so I may talk about things in quite a roundabout way in my writing, just to avoid having to go into too much detail if possible.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I personally don't care for it. I saw that a lot in the J-rock fandom back in the days but I never got into it, I just found it pretty annoying even then and haven't really changed my mind.
What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?
I was maybe 14 when I first read some of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles. I didn't even know what fanfiction was back then, but I did write some reeeeeally bad fanfiction about some of the characters... Only in my private notebooks though, and never posted anything online because like I said, I didn't even know about fanfiction's existence back then. And that's great because otherwise Anne Rice could've sued my ass, lol. 😂
But if we talk about fandoms that I actually let other people read my content for, then... Fruits Basket and from my J-rock fandom era, Dir en grey (yes, more RPF). I never actually published any of my Fruits Basket stuff but I did let some friends of mine read it, and I did actually publish some of my Dir en grey-fanfiction. 🙈🙈🙈
What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
From the ones in AO3... Oh, fuck, I don't know?
Maybe Friends Will Be Friends, part 3 of my Heading For The Light Reddie-series, because it features Stan and Patty and I remember really enjoying writing it. It's quite domestic and sweet and not really much happens in it plot-wise, but I still really like it a lot!
I'm tagging ALL OF MY WRITER MUTUALS who might enjoy doing this. And please, tag me so I can read your answers, ok? Ok. ☺️
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Little Bird: Chapter 19
Read on AO3.
Part 18 here.
Part 20 here.
Summary: You get to find out what's going to happen to you post-escape attempt--or, whatever Ren wants to happen.
Words: 2400
Warnings: Handmaid AU
Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader
A/N: Hi! I decided to give everyone break and just... write plot, for once. What the fuck is plot? God.
Really really appreciating everyone's comments. I loved writing soft Ren. Hope to do it some more? Right? Yes? ;D
Thank you so so much to everyone. I love y'all. See you shortly! <3
“It’s morning.”
Kylo Ren’s voice trickled like a creek through the hazy meadow of your mind. You had been divorced from rest for so many hours that you were certain you’d begun hallucinating, phasing through dreams and reality like osmosis. The dark sheets underneath you were a black ocean, Ren’s chest at your back a mountain made of heat and stone. And you--you were a bird, floating on thermals of terror, too afraid to flap your wings, lest you birth a tornado, but even more afraid to rest, to languish to death in exhaustion.
“You need to walk.”
His voice again, guiding you back to reality. He eased you forward, uncurling his legs from around you, the reassuring strength of his body leaving you exposed. Your head hurt less, but the lack of sleep still had you a little dizzy. What if you still couldn’t walk? Perhaps you’d be forced to the doctor, where’d you’d be asked twenty dozen questions, maybe determined deficient. Maybe this entire episode had been for naught, maybe you’d be shipped off to the Colonies for your disobedience, maybe--
“Up,” he said. “Show me if you can walk.”
You shook your head, brain wobbling like congealed fat in your skull. Ren stood at the side of the bed; you soaked him in, from the dark waves of hair skating above his wide, powerful shoulders, his broad chest rising with quiet breath, down to his abdomen, wrapped tight with muscle, and the trail of hair that led below his pants. God, he was gorgeous--it was almost ethereal. It sent a distant tremble to your toes, agitating the chilled pond of desire in your belly.
The tenderness you’d felt from him had evaporated, now--he observed you with cold, expectant eyes. Jaw stiff, you eased yourself onto the ground, surprised when your feet connected with the floor and steadied you. One step, and then another, no teeters to be found.
He shifted back, a silent request for a continued demonstration. Shrugging, you stepped again, again. The world had stopped spinning. Finally.
“Get to your room. The Marthas will provide you with another dress.” He scanned you, memorizing something. “You should sleep.”
You nodded, folding your arms over your chest, feeling more naked in your civilian clothes now than you’d felt the night prior when you were actually naked in the backseat of his car. “What’s… going to happen to me?”
He raised a brow. “You will remain as my Handmaid and serve this home.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“Yes.”
You wanted that to be true for more than one reason--the first would be to give the Resistance what they needed, to ensure Poe’s death hadn’t been in vain. The second was more nebulous and shameful, woven into the fabric of your ache, your longing to know him. If only you could set that fabric on fire and bury the ashes--after all, you were a spy, now. He deserved retribution. No matter how sweetly he stroked your hair.
“Okay… it’s just, Johana had mentioned something about re-education--”
“I meet with the Council today,” he said. “I’ll inform them that re-education won’t be necessary.” A dark flame flashed across his irises. “Unless you believe it is.”
You ignored the shiver at the base of your spine. “No, sir.”
Ren’s eye twitched. “We’re alone. You...” Then, his expression hardened, and before you could respond: “Go.”
You nodded, peeling away and shuffling into the corridor.
It was strange to creep through the halls of his home without the swish of skirts at your ankles--a shame you’d have to give this outfit up. It wasn’t something you would’ve worn prior to the rise of Gilead, but in this world, it made you feel as if you’d strapped on Doc Martens and a trenchcoat.
The size of your room was about how you had remembered--if not a little smaller. The brief lapse of monotony had already done so much to shatter your familiarity with those four walls--perhaps freedom had the power to vaporize any association with bondage you’d had. The idea of living a life without a single recollection of this home flipped your stomach with excitement. A tiny, near silent tingle of hesitation--even Kylo Ren?
Yes, you told yourself. Even him.
Sighing, you crawled into bed, sinking like a brick into the mattress. If Ren had the power to keep you safe, you wanted to trust him--your future was dependent on his attachment to you. The level of that attachment was difficult to discern, but you knew that you wanted to encourage it. It would make gathering whatever information the Resistance wanted much easier. That tingle again--it’s something you want, too.
You groaned, shoving a pillow over your head, hoping to shut out your own annoying brain. Your feelings about Kylo Ren were irrelevant and pointless. He was your Commander, you were his Handmaid--the chains of society had bound you for too long already. Perhaps you could have known him in another life, another landscape, another time where to be with him wouldn’t mean the complete resignation of your own humanity, where your relationship hadn’t been forged in a firepit of his superiority. But there could never be a context where your history--already too long--could be erased. The thought was sobering. Freeing. Devastating.
The chatter in your mind slowed as you sucked in a breath. The long-avoided necessity of sleep slammed into you, shutting your eyes and taking you into a dreamless void.
A rap on your door, and you shot up from bed, heart ricocheting into your throat. The sun was setting. You had no idea how long it had been since you’d fallen asleep.
“One moment.” It was good you’d woken up--no coma. But your head still pounded with the reminder of your accident. You passed a few fingers over the tender knot at your hairline, checking its size before standing. “Coming.”
You opened your door to reveal Emma, a full Handmaid uniform folded in her arms. She gawked, staring at you before clearing her throat. You couldn’t blame her--it was the same reaction you’d had when you’d seen Rey.
“I was asked to, um, inform you that you should bathe before you put this on.” She shoved it into your arms, averting your gaze. Her cheeks were pink. “How does it feel?” Her voice was gossamer in air.
“It feels… good,” you replied. “Or, it felt good. I know I’ll have to give these up.”
She nodded. “Yes, actually, I was told you should leave them in the washroom when you’re finished so I can collect them for Ms. Johana.”
“Johana?” you asked. “What does she want with them?”
“I… don’t know,” she replied. “I was just told to bring them to her.”
You shrugged. “Okay. Um. Thank you, Emma.”
Offering you a tight smile, she turned and left. You held your uniform in your arms, gazing down at the crisp red folds of the dress and cloak, the snowy bonnet plopped on top, the red-brown boots encircled by the large, white wings. A sigh left you. At least you wouldn’t have to wear the wings until tomorrow. You hoped.
Your bath came and went with little interruption. If Ren had come home at any time during your sleep or your wash, you hadn’t heard it. In fact, the house had been silent, as if you were living inside of an illusion, where wood didn’t creak, where footsteps didn’t echo. Even beyond the windows had seemed quiet, like every creature with remaining dignity had eloped the moment you’d awakened in an endeavor to distance themselves from whatever had infected you. You imagined explaining to them you were undercover for the Resistance--of course none of it meant anything to you. But, in your own daydream you were met with dismissal, as if your subconscious couldn’t even let non-sentient animals buy into your delusion.
Frustration crackled as you shoved yourself into your uniform, contemplating in disbelief the curtain of red fabric that had replaced your body. You could’ve been free, could’ve been planning your future, could’ve been doing anything but standing in a fucking washroom draped in the signifier of your inhumanity. Instead, you were about to head downstairs, eat whatever Johana had decided you were worthy of eating, and await news of your fate. The fact that Ren still hadn’t returned wasn’t encouraging.
You made your way downstairs, leaving your Resistance outfit folded in the hamper. Perhaps Johana wanted to dust it for prints, perform a luminol test on it in hopes it would light up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. But she’d be out of luck, there--you’d been naked when Ren had fucked you. You shuddered at the memory.
It was still bizarre. His tears, his pain, his rage, just barely leashed. You couldn’t figure out how to process it. How could you leave me--these weren’t the words of a Commander, chastising his Handmaid for abandoning her duty. They were the words of a heartbroken, empty man, ripped from his refuge. But that couldn’t be right.
I want you here. Not one like you. You haunt me. How could you leave me. Use my name.
You are me.
Could it?
You awoke from your musings seated in front of some sort of soup--this week’s leftovers stirred in vegetable stock. Sighing, you moved to take a bite when, around the corner and down the hall, you heard the front door open.
“And it’s temporary?” It was Johana.
“Yes.” That voice was Ren’s. You straightened. “That was part of the compromise.”
“All right.” A shuffle--they’d both stopped. Johana’s voice dropped to a murmur. “I’m already having her clothes destroyed. They won’t know she ever met with the Resistance.”
“Mm. Industrious of you.”
“I don’t want anything interfering with my chances of getting a child.” She paused. “Including you.”
“Careful, Johana.”
“No. You be careful, Commander. Your behavior is out of control. You’ll get us both killed.”
The scrape of his shoes on the hardwood. “I am not Canady, Johana. You’d do well to remember that.”
“No,” she said. “You’re not. He’s dead.” Quick, angry footsteps--Ren followed. “If you were, maybe I wouldn’t have to beg my own husband to show the barest consideration toward me--”
Johana marched past the dining area and stopped, face sharpening. The degree of hatred boiling inside of her scalded you, singed your skin, bid blood to your cheeks in both guilt and fear. She glared at you like a mirror that reflected her shortcomings in silvershine clarity, her face trembling with rage. With pain.
Ren arrived behind her, meeting your eyes--the weight of their gazes combined made you want to empty yourself into a sink and disappear down the drain.
“Um. Hello,” you said lamely, as if you weren’t a slave in their home and they weren’t both looking at you for answers.
“You’re awake,” said Ren. “Finish your meal and meet in my den. We begin your re-education tonight.”
“What?” This time, it was both you and Johana who’d spoken. She continued, “What do you mean, re-education?”
He turned to his Wife. “I argued to the Council it wasn’t necessary at all. They disagreed. Our compromise is that I complete her re-education, instead.” Now his stare rested on you. “Once we complete what they’ve asked, they’ll assess her. If they’re satisfied, my position is reinstated.”
She balked, glancing between you and him. “Well,” she said, folding her arms, “I want to be present.”
“That’s nice.” He refused to take his fucking eyes off of you. “Unfortunately, what you want doesn’t currently serve the interests of Gilead.”
“Interests of Gilead?” Johana charged into his line of sight, breaking his leer. “Don’t stand there and act like everything you’ve done since she arrived has been for Gilead--”
Ren’s jaw tensed. “Johana.”
She stiffened. “Fine.” Spinning on you, she hissed, “Once we learn you’re not pregnant, I don’t care where you go. But I’ll make sure you won’t stay here.” She looked to Ren and bowed her head in what almost seemed mock deference, at this point. “Commander.” With that, she was gone, her feet carrying her up the steps to their bedroom.
In her absence, your soup seemed to cool. A bead of sweat slipped down the back of your neck. Ren looked at you again, and his stare locked into yours such with intensity that your vision tunnelled, shrinking blacker, smaller, a crater with no light or air or escape--except through him.
“I’ll see you shortly, little bird.”
He kept your gaze until he disappeared beyond the walls, heading toward the den.
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Chapter 10: A Real Guilty Feeling
Hey everybody, here's chapter 10! But, unfortunately, it'll be the last chapter you see for a while. I need to take a break from writing for a while, do something else and recharge a bit. Maybe also knock out some drawings too while I'm at it.
Current timeline is looking like this: Couple of weeks without writing, and then maybe build up a bit of a buffer of chapters for <i>Outside</i>. But first, I'll be working on episode 2 of <i>Happy Times at Handeemen HQ</i>. Y'all are starting to show an interest in that, and I wanna put something new out for it.
If you want to keep updated, or even just see what I'm drawing, you can follow my art Tumblr here. Also check out my YouTube, in case of livestreams or speedpaints!(Am I plugging my own stuff too much?)
Whenever I'm ready to start posting again, I'll make sure to leave an announcement on here.
I'll see y'all later.
When Will got home, he dumped Stacy's stuff and scout on the couch. He then pointed out his locked workroom, and told her that she was never to go in there no matter what. That done, he left her to her own devices, and went off to bed. He took off his shirt and jeans, then crawled under the sheets. The last thing he did before passing out was shoot off a message to the group chat about how DnD Night was canceled until further notice.
When he woke up, far too few hours later, it was to a light weight on his chest. He stared at Scout for a moment, then picked her up and dropped her on the floor, rolling onto his front. He grabbed his phone, squinting at the too bright screen. Several messages were in the chat, and he sighed as he opened it up and scrolled to the top.
Masonary: um, excuse me?! i asked for that day off u can't cancel!!! somebody better be dead! D:<
Blooming_Stitches: Mason, shut up. We don't know what could be going on.
drWEED420: ugh, stacy. I told you to call me.
Masonary: y would stacy need to call u sam?
Masonary: is it because she hacked ur account and changed ur name again?
drWEED420 has changed their name to DrSamIAm
DrSamIAm: no but it is something we'll going to talk abaout.
Will_and_a_Way: Stace is in the hospital for infected surgery stitches
Blooming_Stitches: I'M SORRY WHAT
Masonry: dude i was joking about som1 being dead
DrSamIAm: goddamit stacy
DrSamIAm has left the chat We're ALL Idiots Here
Masonry: ok first of all what happened to stacy
Masonry: second who changed the chat name again?
Blooming_Stitches: lol
Will sighed, the went into his phone and pulled up his drop box, where he'd sneaked the file into a while ago. He hesitated briefly, then sent it to the chat. Stacy could be mad at him later, but he was too tired to think up a cover story for her right now.
Will_and_a_Way posted a file in We're ALL Idiots Here
Masonry: ?
Blooming_Stitches: !
Will_and_a_Way: read that if you guys want to know what happned.
Will_and_a_Way: I'm going back to sleep now try not to kill each other
He clicked his phone off, dropping it to his mattress and letting his head fall on his pillow. Within seconds he was back asleep, completely oblivious to Scout Jumping back on his bed and climbing onto his back. She curled around the small Kirby toy, using it as a pillow as she settled back into sleep herself.
()()()
When Will woke up again, it was to a light weight in the center of his back, right below his shoulder blades. He huffed, glaring at the wall. He took a deep breath, then heaved himself up with all his strength. As predicted, Scout was catapulted off, and he quickly got out of bed, heading to the kitchen.
He made himself some toast, checking his phone on the way. The group chat was mostly just full of the various reactions from Lisa and Mason. Sammy had come back at some point, going on a rant about what Stacy hadn't told him.
He read over the various comments as he ate, able to tell where they were in the document. Unsurprisingly, Mason finished it first, and Lisa was intent on meeting Scout. Sammy had told her Scout was nothing special, which Will privately agreed with. He finished the back reading and, seeing as nobody was online at the moment, locked his phone again. He picked up his toast and moved into his work room for the time being, deciding to get something done.
It was easy, really, for Will to get lost in his work. Dissecting the "toys" he brought home, taking them apart and recording it in his notes. He was currently working on the body of the head he'd been looking at last night. The brown, fuzzy thing was strapped securely onto the table, the front having been sawed apart and spread open.
He shifted through the innards, making careful, detailed notes about what was in there. He would compare them to the stolen blueprints later, figure out what was supposed to be in there and what wasn't. For now, though, the intention was to make a catalogue of parts.
When his phone alarm finally went off, signalling it was lunch time, he straightened up with a sigh. He pulled off his rubber gloves and, making sure the straps on the table were tight, went out to the kitchen. He made himself a simple sandwich, eating it in the kitchen as he glanced through the group chat. Mason and Lisa were on and currently discussing things, but Sam hadn't been on again since his rant.
He lurked a bit longer after he finished his sandwich, then got up to go back to work. On the way through the living room, he paused when he saw Scout sitting on the couch. She was curled up in the corner, Kirby plush on her lap as she stared at it. Even as a Puppet, he recognized the look on her face as one Stacy had often worn in the first year after her mother had died.
'Why the hell do I feel so bad for that thing?' He sighed, rubbing at his face. Making a snap decision, he went over to his DVD shelf and pulled out The Iron Giant. He turned on the TV and player, then loaded in the movie, skipping the previews. When he reached the main menu, he selected play and dropped the remote near Scout. He then left, heading back towards the basement and his work.
Scout watched go, staring silently after him as he once again disappeared behind the locked door. She didn't even try to follow him, instead settling in to watch the show he'd turned on. With any luck, it would be violent and/or funny enough to take her mind off of things.
()()()
'That is the saddest shit I have ever seen...' She sniffed, rubbing at her frustratingly dry eyes. 'I can't believe he let himself get blown up like that. What the fuck.' She rubbed at her eyes some more, then tried to figure out how to choose a different show. When she couldn't figure it out, she threw the remote down in frustration. 'Fuck it! Where's Will?'
She Jumped from the couch, heading over to the locked door. She peered in the crack between the door and the floor, but couldn't see anything. She could hear, however, and what she heard were power tools. The sound sent a shock through her system, dredging up unwanted memories of Riley's lab. She drew back, then jumped onto a nearby table when the noise stopped. Thinking quickly, she opened the drawer that was there and tried to pretend that she had been going through it.
Will came out of the room a minute later, wiping his hands with a dirty towel. He glared when he saw what she was "doing". "What the hell are you doing? Get out of there!" It wasn't quite yelling, but his voice was definitely louder than it needed to be. Scout suppressed her fear and scoffed.
"Fine. There wasn't anything but batteries in there anyways." She slammed the drawer closed, feeling a small, petty joy in how the contents rattled around when she did. She watched him cross to his bedroom and, when he'd closed his door, opened the drawer back up in order to snoop for real.
Batteries, keys, some weird plastic clips, and other odds and ends she didn't have words for had been organized neatly in the drawer. Working quickly, she shuffled everything around even more, then shoved a handful of what was sitting on the table into the drawer. She then closed it again and sat back as innocently as she could, tilting the shade of the lamp next to her. When Will came back out, now dressed in different clothes, he sighed and fixed the shade.
She watched as he gathered up a couple of things, then came over and grabbed up a set of keys she hadn't dumped into the drawer. There was a pause, or maybe more of a hesitation, and then he scooped her up and left the house, ignoring her protests.
"Hey! Hey lemme go! H-mmph?!" He easily covered her mouth with one hand as he locked the door. He made his way to his car, not letting her go into he'd climbed in and dumped her in the passenger seat. "What was that for?!"
"Okay, here's the deal." He told her, ignoring the question. "We're going to go see Stacy. To do that, we have to go through a whole hospital full of people. And you will be quiet and good the whole time, or you will be going out the nearest window."
"We're going to go see Stacy..." That was the one thing she had really comprehended. Her Host was alive, Scout knew she had to be. If she wasn't, then the Puppet wouldn't have long to-
It didn't matter. She didn't matter, not after what almost happened. Not after what she almost did, accidentally or not.
She was jolted out of her thoughts as Will started the car, realizing belatedly that he'd continued talking to her. She hoped he hadn't noticed she wasn't paying attention. Whatever he'd been doing behind that door, she did not want to become his next patient.
In the silence of the car ride, Scout easily lost herself in the thoughts swirling through her head. The most prominent were thoughts of guilt, knowing she was to blame for this and wondering where she had gone wrong. Maybe she hadn't tried as hard as she should've to subjugate her Host back in the Studio? Or maybe she shouldn't have stayed with her after they escaped. Maybe she should have left after making sure Stacy was okay.
'Maybe I should leave anyways.'
She missed it when Will parked, only noticing when he picked her up. She let herself stay limp, though not so much out of compliance than a desire to try and keep working on the plan that had come to mind.
Vaguely, she was aware of the clean white halls Will was taking her through, as well as a nauseating smell that reminded her of Riley. A few other unclaimed Hosts like Will, though wearing clothing that, again, reminded Scout of Riley. She watched those ones carefully, just in case. She may not like Will, but Stacy did and she didn't want something to happen to him.
Will came up to a door, opening it and peeking inside. Scout tried to look, but could only see the very end of a weird looking bed. Whatever he saw he seemed to like, as he fully entered the room, kicking the door closed behind him and approaching the bed.
"Hey Stacy." He began quietly, and Scout felt her stuffing go cold at the sight of her Host in the bed. Her normally warm brown skin was several shades paler, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She was mostly upright, though leaning heavily against the pillows behind her. The scariest thing, though, were the several tubes connecting her to various machines by the bed.
Scout felt another cold rush of guilt when she saw how Stacy's eyes lit up when she spotted them. She waited for her to say something, anything, but the Host didn't speak, instead lifting her hands to use that weird hand language.
"She can't talk right now." Will translated. "She had to be intubated and her throat still hurts. But, for some reason, she's happy to see you." He sounded annoyed by that, and Scout couldn't help but be confused. Surely Stacy knew about what she did.
'Unless she doesn't.' The Puppet realized. 'She doesn't know shit about how it works. She had no idea what I almost did to her.' Somehow, that didn't make it any better.
Against her will, she was handed over to Stacy so Will could go set down the bags. Stacy hugged her tight, and Scout couldn't help but curl up in her hold, clutching at the weird shirt she was wearing.
She ignored the humans as they talked, or rather as Will talked and Stacy did one handed signing. Instead she stared at the tubing connected to Stacy's arm, watching the clear liquid slowly drip it's way into her body. She didn't know how long she stared for, but she must've dozed off at one point because she suddenly became aware of her hair being stroked.
It couldn't have been too long, as the room was still bright, though she couldn't hear Will anymore. Instead there was a quiet, steady beeping that matched up with Stacy's heartbeat. It was relaxing, and brought up memories of when Scout had first woken up, all those years ago. Before she'd been made to take part in Riley's "tests", or found that TV. Even before she'd met her siblings and learned who and what she really was. Those first few moments when it had just been her and Daisy, enjoying the gift of life.
She almost wished she could go back to that point. Things were so much better back then, when her world consisted of Daisy's sewing room and her siblings. When she didn't have a Host to worry about accidentally killing, or her own people coming after her.
But she wouldn't have to worry about that for long. If her plan ended up working, Stacy wouldn't be in danger ever again.
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Unexpected (but I'm worth it) (branjie) - writworm42
A/N: I wanted to write another virginity fic but this time a) lesbian, b) w V as the virgin. Because Holtz messaged me the other day and pointed out that 1st Position would be Excellent inspiration for a first time fic, and y'all know what? She was right, and she should say it
Title from 1st Position by Kehlani. THANK YOU HOLTZ for beta-ing and leaving me laughing so hard w ur comments fdhsfjkh LOVE U <3
Brooke can’t help but feel like something is very, very wrong.
It’s not that things are bad between her and Vanessa; on the contrary, they’re doing better than ever, better than any of Brooke’s previous relationships when they went this long. She and Vanessa see each other every week, cuddle and hold hands and kiss in public and feel secure when they don’t. They feel comfortable quadruple-texting, and safe not to text at all when they’re having a bad day. They’ve met each other’s friends, and for the past couple of weeks, Vanessa’s been hinting that she might want Brooke to be her date the next Mateo family reunion.
But Vanessa’s never spent the night, and as much as it wouldn’t bother Brooke normally, somehow lately, it’s felt… different. Like something has shifted, in the strangest of ways.
Brooke notices it first when they’re watching a movie together. A sex scene flashes across the screen, and Vanessa shifts in her seat, presses her legs together a little. But when Brooke asks if she’s turned on, teases her a little for it, Vanessa blushes and mumbles that Brooke should drop it. The next time Brooke feels the shift, it’s when they’re making out, and Vanessa grinds her hips into Brooke a little more aggressively than usual. Only the minute that Brooke responds by grinding back, Vanessa pulls away and apologizes, saying she needs a minute. And then there’s the time that Brooke brings up sex directly, telling a story she thinks is funny about an ex she thinks Vanessa doesn’t feel jealous of. Vanessa listens quietly, looking progressively more uneasy until Brooke skips to the end, and Vanessa looks relieved.
Something is definitely wrong, and whatever it is, it definitely has to do with sex.
“Why don’t you just ask her about it?” Scarlet sounds matter-of-fact on the phone, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and Brooke feels a flash of irritation at the suggestion.
“ Because, ” she hisses, “There might be a reason she’s so touchy, and it might be really personal. We’ve only been dating for five months, Scarlet. Five months is so early to disclose some things! What if she’s touchy because she’s a survivor? Or has a social anxiety disorder? Or autism and she’s insecure about reading the signs of whether I’m ready for sex? Or has a phobia of sex or something? Those happen, you know, because of OCD or internalized homophobia or super strict upbringings…”
“Yeah, we know you have issues, Brooke, no need to project them onto Vanessa.” Scarlet scoffs, and Brooke has had it, she really has. It was a mistake to even bring it up, let alone with Scarlet. Sure, Scarlet is intelligent and creative, but the girl possesses the EQ of a gnat, and it’s very clear she won’t be of any help. She should have asked Nina, Nina would’ve been better—
“Have you considered that she might be insecure about sex because she’s still a virgin?”
Brooke stops in her tracks, the suggestion hitting her square in the face.
Of course. It explains why Vanessa seems to be hinting that she wants it, but then pulling back, and why she won’t spend the night. Why Vanessa looks like she wants to say something but can’t whenever Brooke makes a sexual joke at an ex’s expense.
God, Brooke is an idiot.
“I’m not saying you have to kick the door down and start screaming about autism or abuse or exposure therapy, girl.” Scarlet continues, and this time, Brooke listens. “I’m just saying, starting with a question and a disclaimer that she doesn’t need to tell you anything she doesn’t want to isn’t a bad thing. It’s good. Shows that you want to know what’s going on with her, make it better. Everyone should be so lucky to have someone like that in their life.”
Holy shit. If the suggestion that Vanessa may still be a virgin isn’t already enough to shake Brooke, the words that have just come from Scarlet’s mouth certainly are. Because Scarlet is right .
Brooke checks over her shoulder for flying pigs before turning back to the phone, still a little in awe at how obvious her friend’s advice is, how good it is. “You’re a genius, you know that?”
“Yeah, I do.” Scarlet’s voice is casual, but Brooke knows that she’s probably grinning madly on the other side of the line, overjoyed at the praise. It’s kind of cute to think about.
“Just let me know how it goes, okay?”
“Alright, will do.” Brooke nods. “And Scarlet?”
“Mhm?”
“Thanks.”
–
Brooke keeps it casual the next time she sees Vanessa, trying to make everything seem as normal and calm as possible.
Only inside she’s a nervous wreck, visions of what can go wrong spinning in her head. What if Vanessa gets offended or defensive? What if she shuts the conversation down, and then things get awkward between them? What if for whatever reason, they fight? What if Vanessa really does have some kind of baggage, and even if she doesn’t open up to Brooke, it brings up bad feelings or memories for her?
No. Brooke takes a deep breath in, forcing the thoughts out as she exhales. Now isn’t the time for anxiety. If she’s going to spin out about it, she might as well not do it. If she’s going to broach this topic, be ready for Vanessa’s answer, she needs to have a clear, level head. She can’t make this all about herself and how she feels.
Right now, everything needs to be about what’s best for Vanessa.
“Man, you off your game today.” Vanessa grins as she puts a few more letters down on their scrabble bored, poking the tiles softly as she tallies up her points. Twenty, all from adding an ‘E-D’ at the end of a word on a double word score tile. Brooke could have done it if she’d been focused; she would have done it if she were focused. Instead, she’s lagging by about thirty points and still trying to stop her head from spinning.
Fuck. She needs to get out of her head and into the game, or she’s going to lose both her winning streak and her opportunity to talk to Vanessa.
She puts down ‘C-A’ to make ‘CAD’ and winces when she realizes it’s only earned her six points.
“Brooke?” Vanessa prods again, her voice softer this time, and Brooke looks up to see that Vanessa’s grin has fallen away, concern painted on her face instead. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m…” Brooke trails off, then takes yet another deep breath before she can make any more excuses for herself.
No; no more running. She needs to address this, and needs to address it now.
“I wanted to talk to you about something, and I guess I’m a little nervous about it, because I don’t want to bring it up in a way that’s, like, insensitive, I guess? I just don’t want to hurt your feelings, or make you feel bad, or bring up anything that you don’t want to talk about, not that you have to talk about anything you don’t want to–”
“Brooke.” Vanessa brings her hands up to stop Brooke in her tracks, the ghost of a smile returning to the shorter woman’s face despite herself. “Slow down, baby. It’s okay.”
There’s a pause while Brooke catches her breath, calms herself down a little, and then Vanessa looks back up at Brooke, her face serious again.
“This is about how horny I’ve been lately, ain’t it?” Vanessa asks, staring at Brooke intently. “It’s okay, you can be honest with me. I know you’ve noticed.”
“Yeah.” Brooke shakes her head, her stomach settling down completely once the confession is out. “It’s not that I’m mad about it or anything, I’m just… It’s like you keep starting to initiate something, then pull back, and I’m worried that maybe I’m doing something wrong?”
“Oh, baby, no!” Vanessa takes Brooke’s hand, her face softening with sympathy. “It’s not you, don’t worry ‘bout it. It ain’t anything like that. It’s more that–Well, I guess I mean–I’m…”
“You’re a virgin, and you want to sleep with me but you’re embarrassed and worried you won’t be good enough for me?”
Vanessa looks at Brooke, surprised, and retracts her hand. “How did you know?”
“Scarlet had a hunch.” Brooke snorts, and Vanessa rolls her eyes, smiling a little despite herself.
“Yeah, that’s what it is. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it or anything. I mean, you already know I’m a romantic. I was just tryna wait for the right person. And now…well, I think I found her. And suddenly I’m afraid I might mess it up.”
Aww. Brooke feels her heart melt, and can’t help but smile as she reaches across the table to grab Vanessa’s hand again, patting it gently. “Listen, you won’t. I would never think anything bad about you. I love you, okay? By default, it’s gonna be good because of that. And anyway, things always get better with practice, right?”
“Right.” Vanessa still sounds a little skeptical, but her face evens out when Brooke leans over and meets Vanessa’s lips halfway over the table to give her a little kiss.
“You already know what to do, I promise.” Brooke reassures her. “Just let your instincts guide you, and I’ll teach you the rest, alright?”
“Alright.” Vanessa smiles, squeezing Brooke’s hand back, and Brooke relaxes, finally sure that everything’s going to be okay.
“So…”
“So.” Brooke laughs. “Let’s put on a movie and see where it goes, yeah?”
Vanessa doesn’t even have to say anything, nor give it a second thought; without skipping a beat, she’s pushing herself up from the table and grabbing Brooke’s arm, dragging her towards her bedroom.
–
They’re only about half an hour into Ghostbusters when Vanessa’s head finds its way to Brooke’s lap, and Brooke finds herself stroking Vanessa’s hair as they pretend to watch the movie. It’s nice, cozy, even, and Brooke is content to keep feeling the softness of Vanessa’s hair, keep hearing the soft sighs of pleasure she lets out as her eyes flutter closed, then open, then closed again. To stay like this forever with Vanessa, just the two of them and the movie in their own world.
Only then Vanessa squirms a little, and whines in protest when Brooke pulls her hand away. And after a few more moments of restlessness from the shorter woman, Brooke notices that Vanessa’s legs are squeezed together, moving more than any other part of her body.
Oh.
Brooke smiles, a sudden flash of arousal stirring between her legs. Looks like things are about to get interesting.
“You alright, baby girl?” she brings her hand down from Vanessa’s hair to stroke her cheek lightly, gleefully biting down on her lip when Vanessa shivers at the touch. “You seem a little distracted.”
“I’m— Oh. ” Vanessa sighs when Brooke brings her hand lower still, trailing her fingertips along Vanessa’s body at a snail’s pace and delighting in every goosebump that appears in their wake.
“I’m okay, I’m just—“ Vanessa cuts off suddenly, letting out a whimper and beginning to squirm again when Brooke’s hand finally reaches her chest.
“You’re what, sweetheart?” Brooke watches Vanessa intently as she starts to explore the younger woman’s breasts over her shirt, feeling and experimenting, waiting to see her reaction, making sure she knows that she can get away if she wants to.
“I’m… oh, fuck, Brooke, keep doing that…” Vanessa melts into Brooke’s touch as she finally palms one of her tits, squeezing and massaging it gently, just a little warm-up.
“There we go,” she purrs, “that feel good, Ness? You like it when Mami plays with you like this?”
The nickname isn’t new—it’s something Vanessa’s thrown around a lot, a title she pulls out whenever she wants to reel Brooke into the palm of her hand. It always works, of course, earning her kisses and cuddles and occasionally a completely free dinner. It’s not something Brooke dislikes, either; in fact, it makes her feel powerful, sexy, even. Like she’s in control, because Vanessa wants her to be. So it feels completely right to use now, and if the way Vanessa nods eagerly is any indication, it seems she’s made the right choice.
“Yes, Mami, fuck, I like it so much.” Vanessa moans, leaning into Brooke’s touch.
“Good, I’m glad.” Brooke praises, and fuck it, she’s proud of herself, relieved that she’s actually helping Vanessa, actually making her feel good. Showing her that she’s made the right decision, not just in doing what they’re doing now, but in deciding to share it with Brooke.
Still, there are plenty more things Brooke wants to show Vanessa, and she knows she’d better get to it.
“You know, there’s lots of other ways I can make you feel good, too.” Brooke leans down to plant a teasing kiss on Vanessa’s jaw, smiling against Vanessa’s skin when the shorter woman whimpers and squirms a little more. “What d’you think, baby, want me to show you? Want Mami to make you feel all nice, teach you everything she knows?”
Vanessa doesn’t even have to hesitate this time.
“Yes, Mami, fuck, please, yes. ”
“Good girl.” Brooke forces herself to keep her movements slow and exploratory as she continues to touch Vanessa, moving her hand away from her chest and down her body again.
Truth be told, Brooke would love nothing more than to drag Vanessa up further onto the bed, climbing on top of her and peeling off her clothes in a flurry of kissing and biting and needing her now . But Vanessa is right–she is a romantic, and Brooke wants to give her the exact kind of slow, sensual first time she knows Vanessa is probably looking for.
So instead, she pays attention to every part of Vanessa’s body, keeping an eye out for places that make the younger woman sigh a little louder, clench her legs a little tighter together. She’ll need that knowledge for later, after all.
“Can I touch you here? Like, between your legs?” Brooke pauses when she reaches Vanessa’s pubic bone, right above her slit, pressing down a little to bring Vanessa just a little closer to the edge and giggling when Vanessa responds by keening up into Brooke’s hand, urging her to press down harder.
“If you don’t, we ‘bout to have problems.” Vanessa growls, and she doesn’t have to tell Brooke twice–she trails her hand down all the way between Vanessa’s legs, cupping her pussy through her pants and rubbing it slowly, but firmly.
“So cute, baby.” Brooke murmurs, kissing Vanessa again. “My cute little princess, so desperate for me.”
Vanessa whines, her hips bucking back into Brooke’s hand. “Please, Mami, please, give me more, I need more…”
“Mm, you sure, angel?” Brooke plays at deliberating, despite the fact that her fingers are already circling the button of Vanessa’s jeans, toying and teasing at the cool metal clasps. “You sure you want more?”
“Yes. ” Vanessa hisses, and fuck it, Brooke just can’t hold out any longer.
Brooke undoes Vanessa’s jeans fast, plunging her hand inside to feel Vanessa’s slit over her panties. She gasps when her fingers make contact with the thin cotton fabric, meeting a sticky, slick wetness that’s practically soaking them through.
“My, my.” Brooke tuts, trying her best to conceal her excitement, the way her heart pounds in her chest as she continues to tease at Vanessa’s cunt. “Aren’t we a mess? No, don’t move, baby, keep letting me feel you–there we go.”
She brings her other hand around to Vanessa’s chest, toying with her tits again as she continues to rub Vanessa through her panties, working her way up to focus on the other woman’s clit. “God, you’re so sweet like this, all desperate for me. I should just tease you forever, wouldn’t that be nice?”
“No, no, please, please Mami.” Vanessa whines plaintively, practically shaking as she tries her best to be good, tries her best to stay still. “Please, touch me for real, I need it so bad.”
“I know you do, sweetheart.” Brooke finally gives in, because she needs it too, needs to feel Vanessa’s cunt under her fingers, needs to taste it, needs to hear Vanessa’s moans in full force, see what she looks like when she comes. “Get up for me, baby, let’s get all this off.”
Brooke doesn’t think she’s ever seen Vanessa move as fast as she does in that moment, springing up so suddenly she practically headbutts Brooke in her haste to shed all her clothes and clamber up to the top of the bed.
“Oh my God, slow down!” Brooke laughs, her character broken as she chases after Vanessa, wriggling out of her own clothes in the process. “Baby, don’t rush, come on.”
But Vanessa doesn’t listen, only tossing her arms over Brooke’s neck and pulling her into an eager kiss.
“Hi.” Brooke smiles widely when they separate again, her chest swelling with affection when she sees how flushed Vanessa is, how she’s practically glowing with happiness.
“Hi.” Vanessa smiles back, her eyes sparkling with excitement and contentment, and Brooke thinks she’s never seen Vanessa look so beautiful as she does right then, blushing and sweating and biting her lip as she tries to catch her breath.
“I love you so much.” the words come out softly on the heels of another kiss, then another, this time against Vanessa’s jawline, then her neck, then down, down, down to her collarbone, each peck and nip carrying yet another statement, another confession, you’re beautiful, thank you for sharing this with me, I love you, I love you, I love you.
“I love you too.” Vanessa murmurs, her eyes hooded and voice thick with need. “Now please, just fuck me already.”
Brooke snorts, but obliges with pleasure. She continues to trail kisses down Vanessa’s body, taking her time to lick and suck at her girlfriend’s skin, the tang of Vanessa’s sweat lingering on her lips. She finally reaches Vanessa’s tits, and barely hesitates before taking one of her nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and sucking gently.
“Oh, fuck…”
“That feel good, baby?” Brooke comes off Vanessa’s nipple just enough to be able to whisper out the question, just enough to make sure that Vanessa can still feel her hot breath against its hardened, now-wet bud.
“Fuck yeah, it does.” Vanessa gasps.
“Mm, I don’t know.” Brooke replaces her mouth with her fingers, tracing and circling Vanessa’s nipple with deft, light movements. “I mean, you say that, but what does your pussy think, hm? Should we check?”
She trails her other hand down Vanessa’s body, smirking as she watches the younger girl shiver, before planting it between her legs, bringing two fingers to her slit.
“So wet for me!” Brooke gasps with an edge of mock surprise, one that makes Vanessa giggle a little. “Goodness, all this already? Poor baby, must’ve been so pent up all this time.”
“Tell me, princess,” she sobers quickly, her voice low as she nips at Vanessa’s neck, “you’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you? Thinking about my hands on your cunt, rubbing you out and making you feel all nice? Your pussy certainly feels like you have.”
Vanessa nods, whimpering. “Yeah, Mami, fuck yeah. Been touching myself while I think about it, pretending my hands are yours.”
“Oh?” Brooke plays with Vanessa’s folds, gathering wetness onto her fingers before finally tracing her way up to Vanessa’s clit and beginning to circle it gently. “Well, what do you think, sweetheart, is it everything you expected? Hm?”
“No.” Vanessa laughs, bucking her hips in search of more pressure from Brooke’s fingers. “It’s even better.”
Brooke can’t help the pride that swells in her chest, spurring her on to go a little faster, press down a little more firmly. “Good, that’s what I like to hear.”
She continues to rub at Vanessa’s clit for a while, varying her pace and pressure, switching directions and occasionally breaking her circles to go up and down or side to side, but soon, they reach a plateau, Vanessa moaning and panting but getting no closer to the edge. It doesn’t worry Brooke too much; it’s perfectly normal to have difficulty reaching orgasm sometimes, especially on someone’s first time, when they don’t necessarily know what to direct you to do. Still, Vanessa not being able to come is definitely not how she wants her first time to end, so she switches it up, asks if she can put a finger or two inside her.
“Yeah, please.” Vanessa agrees.
Brooke is about to oblige, when she notices that something is… off. Vanessa’s eyes have taken on an air of worry, and the way she’s chewing on her lip is more nervous than aroused.
Shit.
“Are you okay? Do you need to stop?” Brooke gets up and takes her hands away, giving Vanessa room to breathe, but Vanessa just shakes her head, blushing crimson.
“I’m okay!” she waves her hands frantically, her eyes wide. “Really, I don’t need to stop. I was just… I wanted to say…”
“What is it?” Brooke moves close to Vanessa again, wrapping her into a hug and kissing her on the cheek. “It’s okay, Ness, you can tell me. I wanna make you feel good no matter what.”
“Well, I just… I really liked your dirty talk, is all. It really fucking turned me on. But I didn’t wanna knock off your concentration, ‘cause then…”
“‘Cause then what?” Brooke sucks in a breath, her confidence deflating in her chest just a little as she waits for the answer she knows is coming.
“I was afraid you’d get mad and stop.” Vanessa mutters, looking down at herself.
“Oh, baby, no.” Brooke pulls her closer still, squeezing her tightly. “I wouldn’t get mad at you over something like that. Hell, I’d be happy . I want you to tell me what makes you feel good, it’s a good thing when you feel safe to.”
“Besides,” she adds with a conspiratorial wink, “you know how much I love a chance to mouth off.”
Vanessa turns to look up at her, and thank God, all of the doubt has been wiped from her face, a wry, mischievous smile left in its place.
“Well come on then,” Vanessa cranes up to give Brooke a slow, teasing kiss, “get to it, Mami.”
“That’s more like it.” Brooke eases Vanessa down, once again settling on top of her like it’s the easiest thing in the world, the place she really belongs. “Now why don’t you open those pretty little legs for me, sweetheart? Let me see that cute little pussy, I wanna make sure it’s still nice and wet for me…”
It is, and so Brooke slowly slips a finger inside, still working on Vanessa’s clit with her thumb.
“ Awww. ” Brooke coos at Vanessa’s moans, soft and desperate as Brooke picks up her pace, starting to pump her fingers in and out of Vanessa’s cunt in search of her spot. “You like when I fuck you like this, baby? Look at you, you don’t even know what to do, you feel so good. Bet this is much better than using your own hand, huh? Isn’t this better?”
Vanessa is too far gone to do anything but nod, so Brooke fills in the words for her. “Your pussy is so pretty, baby. Just the cutest little thing, all wet and puffy for Mami. I just fucking love it. Maybe next I should taste it, huh? Eat you out so good you won’t be able to think about anything but my tongue for the next three days. I bet you taste so fucking good, you’re already so sweet, I could just…Oh? What’s this?”
Brooke stops in her tracks when Vanessa’s breath suddenly hitches, her whole body going rigid for a moment, and Brooke realizes that she’s found Vanessa’s spot.
Jackpot.
“Look at that!” She hums, hooking her fingers over Vanessa’s spot as she keeps pumping in and out of her entrance with more and more gusto every time Vanessa gasps or begs for more. “So responsive, aren’t we? Sensitive, too! Aw, poor baby, you must just be overwhelmed, aren’t you? Don’t even know how to deal with how good I’m making you feel. Guess that just means I’ll have to fuck you more and get you used to it, yeah? Get you nice and trained to take my fingers?”
“ Fuck , yes Mami, oh fuck, yes, oh God!” Vanessa’s voice is hoarse as she cries out, her knuckles blanching from gripping the sheets underneath her so hard. “ Just please, please don’t stop, please keep going, please keep fucking me—“
Brooke pounds her fingers into Vanessa with one final, deep thrust, and Vanessa’s words are cut short, swallowed into a silent scream. Brooke fucks her all the way through her orgasm, easing her down from it and slowly bringing her movements to a stop while Vanessa settles, still shaking despite finally relaxing again.
“You alright, Ness?” Brooke checks in as she slowly pulls out, coming around to lay next to Vanessa. She’s expecting Vanessa to nod, smile, maybe even say something about how good she felt, hopefully how she wants to do it again.
Instead, though, Vanessa looks Brooke dead in the eyes as she grabs the blonde’s hand and takes her fingers in her mouth, sucking gently.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Brooke chuckles, and Vanessa rolls her eyes, grinning a little despite herself.
“It sure is.” Vanessa finally lets Brooke’s fingers go, licking her lips. “Fuck, Mami, that was fucking amazing. Thank you so much.”
“No, you were amazing.” Brooke kisses Vanessa on top of her head, pulling her close again and cradling her in her arms. “I’m so glad I could give you a good first time, babe.”
“About that.” Vanessa perks up a little, her hand suddenly finding its way up Brooke’s body and settling on her waist. “Any chance you up for teachin’ me how to thank you?”
Brooke grins, the old fire in her belly starting up again as her mind fills with ideas for what could come next.
“Absolutely.” She kisses Vanessa’s cheek before sitting up, gesturing for Vanessa to crawl on top of her.
“What d’you think, baby, wanna learn how someone else’s pussy tastes?”
“That I do.” Vanessa grins as she settles over Brooke, looking her over like she’s something good to eat. “Why don’t we get started?”
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