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lilacsareinbloomagain · 8 months

Note

Heyo! May I request platonic yandere chain with reader? But instead of isekai like normal the reader is actually a destructive spirit or deity that was reawakened by either Dark Link or Ganon? Anywhoooo I hope you’re having a great week- mine was filled with exams lmfaooooo

Thanks for requesting anon! I really hope you had good results from those exams!

Notes: My week was okay, thank you for asking!!

I really let out my imagination out on this one, hope you'll like it.

BTW, take this as a part on the back for getting through your week.

I feel like I made the yandereness on this one so light, I'm sorry

-> Reader can't bring themselves to remember anyone's names so just remembers their most striking characteristics in their opinion.

-> It's been a while since I've read the comic, so Time keeping FD's mask on his belt for safety measures (since it's the most dangerous one and he can't lose it) is merely a headcanon of mine.

-> Reader is a menace who has questionable intellect (AKA a chaotic, pyromaniac, destructive entity being forced to be nice to others by the good guys™).

-> I left the end ambiguous, so you guys can decide if reader was either truly tamed or is still a menace who Time has to keep on check so they won't be too cruel on their "pranks".

-> Reader also magically rearranged Time's ocarina so each hole would play different a different sound at some point, so he literally had to re-learn where each note was so that he could go back to playing his songs again.

-> Reader slept for more than Time and Wild both and doesn't know a thing about the Zelda lore other than the Golden goddesses.

TWs: Light platonic yanderism, mention of burns, mentions of fire and arson, mentions of loud noises, basically just reader being an absolute hazard to anyone and everyone.

Platonic yandere! Chain x Reader

Debt to pay.

People from your time used to say that one could sooner move a mountain from it's resting place rather than tame your natural ways.

You wouldn't say you were a deity, per say, you thrived on chaos and setbacks, a living annoyance to the poor living things that breathed the same air as you, and roamed the earth by the same time you did.

It was in your nature to be destructive, yes, but you never wanted destruction, at least not full extinction. The darkness and the light were both two sides of the same rupee, they were one just like the other, beings of both sides would react the exact identical way to having their butts lit on fire. So, of course, you weren't one to pick and choose who you'd go after each day.

Thing is, most people didn't understand that —if anyone at all— so everyone just assumed you were a being of pure darkness, even if you actually saw yourself as more of a dark gray entity from a moral chart perspective.

And that was how you got yourself “killed”, if that's even the right thing to call it.

Somehow, no one seemed to care much when you lit whole villages on fire and made all of the walls of full-on castles start dissing out pure electricity, but they almost dislocated their jaws the moment you decided to do a silly trick and turn all of their lovely goddesses statues upside down for a day.

As if those same goddesses hadn't just ignored all of their prayers in the last hundreds of years you spent freely making their lives miserable.

You were stored in a vase. Not even a cool cool one. A plain clay vase deep within a temple under the ground. If you could choose, you'd have preferred something more majestic and up to the level of your power, but then again, it wasn't like you were in place to say anything in your defense.

Sometimes you just wondered how your small group of worshipers were. They probably weren't the best people out there, if you could say so yourself, but you were still curious if they ended up having similar fates to yours.

A long, long time later, you were "revived", for the same reason you were "killed".

Not the best choice on the part of whoever went through the trouble of doing all that, but who were you to judge? Or even to complain?

From what you could get from the boring evil monologue the guy in front of you was giving after having just woken you up from the longest nap you've ever had —since you couldn't really die— the guy wanted you to aid him in his quest to kill some other guys and take over the world or some boring nefarious plan like that.

You couldn't recall any of the names he just said, though, so you could only guess that you had either slept for a pretty damn long time, or you were in an entirely different world on itself.

Before you could fully decide on one of the two possibilities, the red guy sent you to fight against that group of guys he was talking about, seven men with varying shades of blonde hair along with two guys who weren't blond at all.

Perhaps you could have admired the strength of the red guy's magic, to just bring you out of your sleep like that and already straight up teleport you.

Thing is, you didn't really care enough to do that, you just did whatever you wanted the moment you realized you were fully conscious and in a physical body once again.

Were you chaotic and very much possibly evil? Yes. Were you stupid, however? Kinda No.

So the moment the opportunity presented itself, you followed those guys around, gathering information. Taking notice also of that one shadow looking dude, who was following them around just like you, seemingly with the intention of making their lives hell.

Maybe he'd be an interesting being to interact with, if he wasn't as prickly as a damn cactus. You swore you couldn't even approach the guy without him reacting like a startled cat, pointing his flimsy sword straight to your face. You swore to yourself you'd break that thing in half one of these days.

And so you set your sights fully on the blond —and the not so blond— guys, taking your time to also play around with the villages they went to and toy with the monster camps they passed by.

Of course, you couldn't just ignore the massively ominous aura drifting from the masks that one of the taller blondies carried around. Your hands itched to get a grasp on those things, whatever was sealed inside it was magical and possibly powerful, and the possibilities sent your mind on quite a dangerous frenzy.

The thing that made you a bit disappointed, however, was how long it took for them to notice your presence.

At some point you decided to start giving them some more obvious hints that what was following them wasn't friendly.

They seemed to really like bomb bags, which wasn't exactly safe for them when you could randomly activate those at will.

Also, you couldn't control the rain or storms, of course, but you definitely could attract lightning, especially since they all seemed to enjoy carrying around those identical metal swords.

Sometimes you just liked to pull on their hair and make knots on them, given that some had really long hair.

The wolf guy had a horse, one you could just startle really easily. Although you didn't have the result you wanted, since the wolf guy wasn't sent flying the moment his horse went crazy.

You caught him later, though. Making loud, high pitched noises to absolutely blow away his senses the moment he turned into a wolf to try and chase you down.

The fire that the short guy was using to mend a weapon randomly became overly strong, enough to have burned his whole arm, if he hadn't pulled away quick enough.

The scarf of the other one just one day became a bit too hard around his neck. It's a good thing for him that he was quick enough to pull it off his neck before he suffocated.

You watched as the one with pink hair almost had a breakdown, as all his colorful, shiny little trinkets and accessories having become dulled, turning completely pitch black, no traces of their original colors or magic left.

The kid tried to control the wind, only to have it blown straight back to his face, bringing leaves and sand with it.

You made sure their cook accidentally poured a bit too much pepper in their food, or salt, even sugar, if you felt like it.

The brown haired one suddenly lost control of his magic, what was supposed to heal their wounds ended up dyeing their hair blue for days on end.

That other guy who always overslept felt his pillow being pulled from under his head at random times through his nights.

And the tall guy's masks have all suddenly decided to disappear.

“Okay. Something is going on here. And it's not something natural.” Time sighed, looking around the camp, tired and worried, concerned.

Wild’s hair was an absolute mess and seemed to have caught on fire at some point, Warriors was glaring at his scarf, keeping it as far from his —almost purple— neck as possible. Wind had his hair almost as messy as Wild's, full of leaves and dirt, he was pretty sure there were also some bugs around it, his cheek had a thin cut from a sharp little rock.

Twilight was occupied comforting Epona, although the both of them seemed quite shaken up by something.

Four had some burns around the tips of his fingers, his hair usual blond hair now stained with blue, Hyrule sitting beside him with a frown, bandaging his hands rather than using his healing magic like he normally would.

Sky wasn't far from the two, almost dozing off despite the migraine that had settled behinds his eyes, which were now dotted with heavy bags from sleepless nights. Legend's terrible mood did not seem to disturb his need for a nap.

“Oh, really?” Legend almost growled back, positively fuming with barely contained rage gleaming in his eyes.

“Vet, I am not your enemy here, but once we find out who is doing this, you can direct your anger towards whoever they are.” Time shot a look to the other.

“That is, if it's even a person doing this. It might be some kind of monster.” Warriors commented.

“One thing we're sure of is that there's magic involved in this.” Hyrule spoke up, finished with the bandaging.

“I don't even know why you're so mad, Leg, you were possibly the least affected by this.” Four complained, eyebrows furrowed with stress. Even as a blacksmith, he was never a fan of getting burned, especially not being caught off guard like that!

“Agreed.” Wild was the next to speak, not bothering to brush the soot out of his hair. It wasn't quite the first time he almost been exploded, after all, even though the experience didn't get any better no matter how many times he went through it.

“You're really saying that, even though the kid only got a burst of wind to the face.”

“Ay! Mind your own business, Legend!” Wind sprung up in defense of himself, already looking to be tense prior to the attack, as the two began arguing.

While the group was in quite the mess, you took your chances to go ahead and approach stealthily to attempt to take the mask you were so curious about. Said mask being the last one you hadn't stolen borrowed yet, since the tall guy seemed to have noticed his other masks disappearances and decided to take extra means of protection towards that one.

In your opinion, your risks were all carefully thought out and calculated, however, you seemed to have completely forgotten about a certain wolf guy at the edge of the camp, standing beside his horse and looking straight at you.

You managed to grab the mask from the taller guy's belt! But at what price..?

Before you could even manage to turn around and run away with it, a hand shot out, hooking on the back of the collar of your shirt, pushing you to the ground in a second. And in another second, there was a blade shoved right in front of your face.

Goddammit.

You barely paid any attention to all the yelling, too occupied hugging your newly acquired possession tightly to your chest.

“Hand me that mask. Now.” A voice right behind you demanded, yet you still didn't move.

“No.”

The sword in front of you seemed to inch just slightly closer to your neck.

“At least tell me what it is, first!” You asked, a bit more squirmy, not at all comfortable with the vulnerability you had right now, since it seemed like that long sleep left you with a bit less power than you used to have, clearly a precaution, should you ever gain you body back. It was smart from your captors, but very much annoying for you.

“None of your business, now give me back my mask!” The tall guy —now in front of you— stressed. You could tell that his restlessness was hinting towards just how near he was to the end of his wits.

“If this piece of porcelain is as powerful as it seems, then yes, yes it is my business!”

It wasn't, not really, but you were too curious to just give up on information just like that.

The tall guy went quiet for a second before he finally replied, going with a question instead of actually giving you an answer like you were expecting from him.

“How do you know how powerful it is?”

“None of your business.” You threw his own words back at him and now the dull side of the sword was suddenly pressing up pretty uncomfortably against your skin, burning you. “Okay, fine, I'll tell you.”

And that was how you met the Links, and also how you became chained to them, unable to leave. After all, you did have to pay them back for all that you did to every single one of them.

But, for some reason, that simple dept seemed to only to get bigger the longer you spent time with them, despite the fact you weren't doing anything entirely wrong…

At least, that was the excuse they gave to you, yet something in you made you feel like that wasn't the full truth.

Extra (This happened)

Time: give me back my shit

Reader: nuh-uh

Time: fym nuh-uh

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chaoticbardlady99 · 10 months

Note

HI FIRST OF ALL LOVE YOUR WRITING second of all ! kind of specific but may I request an astarion x reader/tav where like. 90% of their time with the companions reader/tav hasn’t been able to see all that well- like. they can see colors and sort-of shapes but most details are completely incomprehensible, and through some method or another (probably someone’s attempt at “removing the tadpole” or smthn but up to you!) they’re finally able to see clearly and they’re just. completely amazed because EVERYTHING (astarion) is so beautiful actually??

Like Nothing I’ve Seen (Astarion x GN! reader)

CW- Mentions of gore and violence (due to Volo being a socially incompetent goofball) , self-esteem issues because I’m an insecure queen myself and like to deal with my feelings through my OCs

I tried to write a body neutral reader as well so everyone can imagine themselves in this story! I hope I was able to pull that off.

Title inspired by the song “Beautiful Things” by Grayscale

Hello! I am so sorry this took so long. Work has been kicking my whole ass lately!!!

This has not be thoroughly proof read so I may make changes as I find them, but I was too excited to post it! I hope you enjoy!

Being a monk is hypothetically supposed to help your pain tolerance- ya know, zen and shit.

Except, you quickly learn that a crossbow bolt to the eyeball is enough to break your zen.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s fighting quickly subsides as you stare at the two blobs out of your (now) one only good eye- good being a stretch. Admittedly, of all the people this could have happened to, it’s probably a good thing it was you since your eyes don’t really work anyway.

The purple, silver, and black blob (who you have come to know as ‘Shadowheart’) comes running towards you, her movements frantic as she begins to try to bandage your eye. You wince as she starts to remove the crossbow bolt.

“I am so sorry,” Shadowheart says, the distress evident in her voice, “if only that gith would stop being such a problem.”

Shadowheart practically screamed the last bit, but at least you are in too much pain for the shrill sound of her voice to bother you. You never wanted to find out if eyeballs could throb- you missed the hours before breakfast when you were blissfully ignorant to the true capabilities of your eyeballs.

The hostile green ball, Lae’zel, comes charging over with an insult sitting on the tip of her tongue before another blob knocks her aside.

“Walk it off Lae’zel,” you hear Karlach say with heavy amounts of exasperation.

Lae’zel grumbles as she storms off; Shadowheart continues to slowly work on you as you wince, whimper, and feel the tears start to fall.

“What did you do?!”

The rage in his voice rattles your bones- if tones could kill, Shadowheart would have keeled over. The radiant blob of your lover is in Shadowheart’s face (at least you hope it’s her face).

“Fangs, put them away!”

“Oh? Were you this anal when they were SHOOTING CROSSBOWS KARLACH?!”

You are beginning to feel dizzy and the yelling isn’t helping. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion are arguing relentlessly- Karlach attempting to mediate. At some point Gale and Wyll join the mix- you think they are trying to hold back Astarion, but you aren’t sure.

In all the chaos, you are unaware of Volo coming up behind you- a solution brewing in his brains.

“Don’t worry my friend,” He explains with gusto, “I can fix this!”

Before anyone can protest, Volo rips the bolt out- your eyeball coming out with it before Volo plops a spherical object in your lap.

“Tada!”

The blood curdling scream that rips through your throat as you clutch at your eye socket surprises even you. In the midst of the white, hot pain- you hear Volo running off , also screaming, away from what you think is Astarion.

You feel Shadowheart grab the spherical object from your lap as Karlach holds you down on the ground.

“Sorry Soldier, but this is probably going to hurt.”

Oh and it hurts.

Shadowheart is wiggling the eye roughly into your eye socket, apologizing the entire time. You feel your socket form around the new eye. The pain from the removal and the new addition begins to subside into a dull ache as the new eyeball makes itself at home in your head- healing energy radiating from it and Shadowheart’s palm.

You feel like you are going to throw up, pass out, or go into a fit of hysteria by the time you start trying to blink your eyes open. You stare down at the grass below you and watch as a red bug with black spots walks along one of the blades before taking flight.

You freeze- the world is definitely not blobbish anymore. You run your fingers through the soft, green grass.

Has it always looked this way?

“How is the new eye?” Shadowheart says nervously.

You look over at her and try to stifle your shock.

Shadowheart is stunning and Karlach is just as awe inspiring as Shadowheart.

“Are you okay, Soldier?”

Sometimes you forget that your companions don’t know about your vision issues. You are able to hide your vision deficit well due to your years of training as a monk teaching you how to rely heavily on your other senses and the energy in the air.

You have come to adore all of your companions for their personalities, their laughs- Astarion especially. However, now you understand why perfect strangers come up to your companions with enamored voices.

“You catch him, Fangs?” Karlach says in a teasing town.

You hear Astarion scowl, “the bastard ran off and disappeared before I could even get near him.”

Astarion appears out from the corner of your eye and kneels in front of you. You try so hard to keep the surprise and adoration from showing on your face. His eyes bore into yours with an emotion that is not recognizable. A tick of frustration flares in your mind- now you have to learn an entirely new set of rules for social interaction.

Except, you’ll deal with that later. For now, you have a literal God kneeling in front of you, his hand cupping your cheek and surveying your new eye.

Gods he’s incredible.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper involuntarily.

As the blush spreads along your cheeks, Astarion breaks out in a bright, beautiful smile.

“Well that settles it, your vision is working just fine!”

He gives you a quick kiss on your lips- your face feels like it’s on fire.

It has been a little over a week since the tiefling party. He had been distant with you initially after your midnight tryst and you had felt quite broken over it. Well- until you had been spending time with Gale at the campfire talking about the Monastery you grew up in and his experiences with the weave. Astarion had barged into the conversation, sat down next to you, and had practically pulled you into his lap next to the campfire. After that night, you’ve become inseparable- sleeping in each other’s tents, more midnight trysts, cuddling, spending the whole night talking or playing games. You spend alone time with your other companions- he would never control you or dictate who you spend time with. He would spy on you and Gale, but he would never prevent you from talking to him.

“No my dear, I trust you. I just don’t trust the boot muncher.”

“You really need to stop saying that,” your serious demeanor cracking, “he doesn’t actually eat the boots.”

He snickered, “oh ya? Then why have we never seen them after he absorbs them? And yet everyone judges my feeding habits!”

Astarion helps you up off the ground and you are dizzy from all the new stimuli around you. His hands find purchase on your hips as he helps steady you. You take advantage of the support and look around your camp.

It all looked exactly how you did and did not imagine. Your brain feels like it’s having a war between what your senses tell you about the land versus what your eyes are saying. You can label everything in the camp because you know where it is based on location, but none of it looks like the way you had anticipated- in fact, it was all far more breathtaking than you imagined.

“What are you thinking about Darling,” he whispers against your ear.

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine, a smile consuming your face.

“I was thinking it might be fun to go explore around camp and make sure my eye is really working.”

He stares at you with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the environment and your sight hasn’t changed that much?”

Ah, that look means confusion.

“Don’t be such a pessimist,” you put your hand on your hip and flash a grin, “besides, it’s not like I asked you to go with me.”

*******************************************

Astarion walks leisurely behind you as you make a point of touching anything you can reach. He thought you were the most normal one at camp (mentally at the very least), but he is beginning to think he misjudged you.

You are twirling around the forest like you’ve never been in one before. You ask him questions about specific objects and express a great deal of interest in everything you come across- you even find the rocks interesting. While he did find the strangeness to be odd, he still couldn’t help but relish in the genuine, innocent joy on your face. Astarion feels an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout his body while he watches you as you bound around the forest floor.

Astarion is slowly recognizing that his plan is unraveling, but only a little bit. He had thought you would be the lovesick puppy chasing him around camp, but, as Karlach has pointed out to him, it’s the opposite.

He finds himself always making an inventory of where you are in relation to him, who you are talking to, and your feelings- even the ones he is currently disrespecting by attempting to gain your undying protection.

Now Astarion is here- watching you follow a bumble bee towards a large Oak tree.

As you stop and make a point of sitting down under a tree, you touch the various flowers scattered in the grass and excitedly chat about the details of the flower. Astarion silently sits next to you with a smile and takes a look at your face- you look like a blind man seeing for the first time. The realization hits him like an eldritch blast.

“Darling?”

You hum.

“Have you not been able to see until today?”

Astarion watches as you tense up and your eyes meet his. Astarion struggles to discern the look in your eyes- it’s somewhere between fear and apprehension. He offers you a small smile before you break eye contact with a sigh.

“I, um, was sick as a baby. My mom left me outside of a monastery. I guess whatever I was sick with attacked my vision so I could only really see colors and the basic outlines of the things,” Astarion looks at you as if to encourage you to go on so you continue, “it’s never affected me though. The monks taught me how to use my other senses and taught me how to sense energy in the air.”

Astarion is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that a. He was right and b. You slept with him without knowing what he looks like? C. You are easily the second strongest in your little gang of weirdos and the entire time you could barely see.

“So when you told me I was beautiful last week?”

You blush and hide your soft grin. He hears your heart begin to race.

“I really did mean it then,” you pause,” but it’s a different kind of beautiful. I think you are a very good person- I just adore you. Your smile, your laugh, your personality- even the snarky bits. Or when you are at your absolute worst.”

You pause and give him a joking smile, “You are a real pain in the ass though. I didn’t know why everyone is so enamored with you, but now I can see why all those tiefling women kept flirting with you at the party now though.”

He tries to hide the frown that threatens to reveal itself and he sees the panic flash in your eyes.

“Not that I’m saying you are nothing but your looks because that is not true,” you bite your lip, “I just know I came to like you for who you are on the inside and that was…. Quite the experience.”

“Are you suggesting I’m an acquired taste?!”

“Hmmm,” you tap your chin, “ I suppose that is exactly what I’m saying.”

“I am truly heartbroken darling, I thought we had something special.”

He huffs playfully and pretends to be upset- ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. Astarion’s heart clenches as you look at him with the same warmth he is feeling. You break eye contact from him and he can’t help but feel disappointed.

“We do, you’re just lucky I’m a monk and I’ve been forced to practice patience my whole life.”

Astarion is lost for words as he turns over what you just said in his head. You scratch the back of your neck and start talking again.

“And not to mention, you deserve someone who is going to take the time to know you for you- not just adore you for what you look like. You are really one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met Star.”

We do. Incredible. Star.

His body feels like it might explode from the chaos of emotions spirals through his body. He thinks maybe the effects of the tadpole are wearing off because he feels like he is burning alive. He fights the urge to take you right there in the flowers.

A couple minutes later, you look up at him again- that same fear in your eyes, but also some hope. After you realize he isn’t going to say anything, you speak again.

“I am not entirely sure why you have gravitated towards me, but I really like you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way and we can just go back to being friends,” you pause, “and you won’t lose my protection. I still intend on helping you be free of Cazador once and for all.”

You look away from him, hands fiddling with the flowers. Astarion is still digesting everything you just said to him.

It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings (even if he refuses to admit he does), he just doesn’t… deserve someone like you.

He had always been under the assumption that monks were stuffy and by-the-book. You had taken him by complete surprise. You are slyly funny, have no problems with bending the rules if it means helping someone (he doesn’t care for the intent of bending the rules, but he likes bending the rules), and you are accepting. You aren’t neutral with your feelings unless you are trying to mediate an argument or make the best decision for the group.

He appreciates how blunt you are in private- he never has to try to guess what’s on your mind. You make him feel safe like no one else has for the last 200 years.

How could I not gravitate towards you?

It also occurs to him that you have never seen yourself- how your eyes twinkle when you smile or the dimples that grace your cheeks. You hadn’t even seen your body- the same body he was starstruck by and, despite the dissociation and icky feelings, he was able to enjoy the sex between you to some extent.

He gets up from his spot on the ground next to you- your shoulders slightly slumping in defeat.

“Oh stop being so dramatic darling,” he teasingly smiles at you, “get up- I have something to show you.”

***************************************

You blindly follow Astarion to his tent- you had asked him what he wanted to show you the entire walk back, but he refused to disclose that information.

Once you were in camp, Astarion had wrapped some cloth around your eyes before dragging you in the direction of his tent.

“Now you stay right here- don’t move a muscle.”

“Oh you mean like-“

He interrupts you by swatting your hand away from his curls. You pout playfully and he pulls you to his chest before kissing you deeply. You are shocked by his actions and his gasp of surprise tells you he is just as shocked too. You feel him pull back as you start to melt against him, your hands tangled in his hair. An impatient whine escapes your lips. He chuckles.

“No, no, no,” he says, “not yet. Now stay still or there’s no more kisses for you.”

“No more kisses!?”

“You heard me!”

You stay still- the threat is more than enough to convince you to stop. You can hear and sense Astarion rustling around the tent, placing various objects of different vibrations all around his tent. It feels like it takes eons as he readjusts and moves the objects around. Finally, Astarion hums with approval.

“Alright darling, you can take the blind fold off now.”

You take off your blindfold eagerly and your eyes adjust to the warm light in the tent. As you look around, you see that Astarion had set up every mirror he owns all around the tent.

Mirrors.

You stare back at who you can only presume to be yourself. You take in all your features- dissecting yourself. The longer you stare at yourself, the unhappier you become.

You know that Astarion’s intent is good (or you hope it is), but you can’t help the frown that takes place on your face. You are so plain in comparison to Astarion and everyone in camp. Why would he want to be with you when he could have someone as stunning as Shadowheart? Someone equally as interesting to look at?

“What’s wrong,” Astarion says with alarm in his voice.

You suddenly become aware of the hot tears running down your cheeks as Astarion cups your face with his hands. You shake your head, crying harder as he wipes your tears away.

“Darling, please.”

The desperation in his voice causes you to finally meet his eyes, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“ I’m so plain looking,” you state with venom in your voice, “the rest of you are all beautiful in unique ways and I just look like everyone else.”

He scowls, shaking his head at you.

“That is not even slightly true.”

He twirls you around in his arms and has you facing the mirrors again. You have to remind myself that he is behind you still as you feel his fingers trace the details of your face (it would really ruin the moment if you elbowed him in the ribs).

“No one shines like you do. No one smiles like you or laughs like you- crinkles their eyes when they are happy like you. You are funny and intelligent; and by the Gods you are powerful. The fact that you have been fighting blind this whole time is absolutely incredible. You, darling, are a force of nature,” he puts his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the delicate skin, “I may say a lot of honeyed words, but I wouldn’t say them if they weren’t true.

“And, in all my 200 years of living, I must say, you are like no beauty I have ever seen before.”

You can’t help but smile brightly and you try to look at yourself the way he sees you. Maybe you can see the person he is referring to, but you just need more time to get used to actually seeing yourself. Maybe with time, you will be able to see how brightly you shine too- you’ll just have to work at it.

You smile at yourself softly and say a quiet you’re wonderful to yourself before looking away from the mirrors.

You turn around and give Astarion a soft, long kiss- he sighs into it, meeting your tempo until you pull away; Breathless like a fish out of water. He puts his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

“Thank you, Astarion- I think you shine too.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x you #astarion romance #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #volo

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staytinyville · 11 months

Text

Stay Alive (23)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: smut (MDNI), piv, unprotected sex (we don't do that here), Jungkook is kind of out of it, heat like symptoms,

A/N Yall ready for this??

Walking into your work area and finding your boss speaking with the nurses was not what you were expecting. You felt your chest tightened, being reminded what it was this man was doing to all those people underground. You knew he left you unsettled for a reason. You had no reason not to trust your gut instinct. And now that the boys made everything come to light you knew why that was.

You still tried your best to give a smile though, forcing your lips to pull up. The other nurses were chatting just fine with him, which made you wonder if they too knew what he was doing. You realized they did if one of the nurses knew about Yoongi’s eating habits. Were you the only one who didn’t know about the whole thing?

“Ah, good morning, (Y/N).” Hanseol smiled at you.

“Sir.” You greeted, bowing your head.

“How was your commute?” He asked you, walking over to your desk.

You breathed deeply, not wanting to meet the man in the eye. The hair’s on your arm seemed to have raised, causing you to frown at the obvious fear. You didn’t want to show it and you hoped no one noticed it.

“It was fine.” You nodded at him. “Public transport at morning rush hour, as you can imagine.”

“Oh yes.” Hanseol grinned. I” could never ride on a public bus. No, thank you.” He scoffed lightly, causing those around you to laugh.

You smiled, adding in a light laugh. You noticed how he seemed to keep his eyes on you, not moving from your area. “What brings you to the office?” You asked him politely.

“I've come to speak to you.” He smiled like he had been waiting for you to say something. “Do you mind if I walk with you?” He placed his hands behind his back

You cleared your throat, gathering all the papers you need for Namjoon and Jungkook. “Not at all.” You told him.

You really were trying your best not to give him a reason to suspect him. Hopefully he was thinking of something else when he came to see you. This was the fourth time you’ve seen him in the past couple of weeks. All of which he seemed to have called for you. If he was going to fire you, you really hoped it was because of something else and not because you were thinking about breaking the boys out.

He quietly was humming to himself as you took the elevator down, feeling a bit awkward over him standing next to you. He wasn’t a large man. He looked exactly how you would think a villain who had a larger partner would. The man was someone of science, so he looked exactly how you would imagine.

You kept your eyes on the doors, but you could feel his stare on the side of your face. He squinted his eyes at you before making small talk.

“Humans are such fragile things.” He started. “Anything can hurt them.”

You turned to him with your eyebrows pulled together. “I can snap my fingers and you can die in an instant.”

Your eyes went wide. “I'm sorry?” You questioned, breath caught in your throat.

You felt fear seize in your chest, stopping your heart for just a fraction of a second.

“Humans.” He tilted his head to the side. “They are so weak.”

He grew closer to you, quickly taking a hold of your wrist. You gasped trying to pull yourself free. You began to wince as his fingers tightened themselves around your skin, making sure to leave marks.

“You're human, (Y/N). Right?” He asked himself, trying to get you to look into his eyes.

“You're hurting me.” You whimpered, pulling at your hand again.

“Exactly.” He scoffed. “That's the point.”

He raised up his other hand, sticking his pointer finger out as his nail seemed to grow into a sharp point. The elevator had stopped at that point, opening up to the lobby of the facility. However he kept you in the lift, his hold tight.

“A little knick here and you will bleed to death.” He spoke, dragging his nail lightly down your arm in a vertical line. “But I won't do that to you.”

He quickly pulled back, not before giving the inside of your wrist a scratch deep enough to cause blood to drip down. You flinched back, feeling the warm liquid drip. It felt like a slice on a knife from washing dishes. Essentially the pain went away the moment he pulled back. It wasn’t even half an inch long, but it was enough to cause a wound.

“You're too precious to those boys.” He dragged the pointed finger down your cheek, causing you to sob silently.

“You won't do anything to jeopardize your job will you? No, of course you won't.” He tutted. With a harsh tug of your cheeks, he made you look into his red eyes. “You're a hard worker, (Y/N). Thank you for what you do here.”

Your shoulders suddenly dropped as everything from your body slipped away. Your mind went blank and you were left an empty shell. However you quickly came back, frowning when you noticed your boss in front of you. You hadn’t remembered what it was you were doing with him but once again you were unsettled.

“Of course.” You answered him. “You're welcome.”

“Run along now.” He patted your shoulder, stepping out the elevator. “You're gonna want to get that fixed up.” He pointed to your arm.

You frowned deeply when you noticed the small on the side of your wrist. You couldn’t remember getting the injury, which left you baffled. “Yeah.” You whispered.

You made your way to Jungkook’s room, rushing to make sure you didn’t spill any of your blood onto the floor. You held your hand over the wound, wincing a bit from the pressure but it kept the liquid from dripping and pouring out more.

As you walked into the boy’s room, he was quick to run towards you and take your hand at the smell of blood. He was baffled at the fact that Yoongi hadn’t smelled it the moment you walked past his door.

“(Y/N)! What happened!?” He cried. “Who did this to you?”

“I—I can't remember.” Your bottom lip trembled, feeling like you did the other day when Hobi told you about the spell mark. “I was talking with Doctor Hanseol-”

“How dare he touch you!” Jungkook’s growl startled you, making you flinch. “He probably erased your memory.”

The boy began to hold onto your hand tightly, eyes growing wide at the sight of the bruises forming on your wrist. It only seemed to make him more angrier as he turned away from you to shout and grip at his hair.

“Kook, calm down!” You shouted, rushing towards him as he started to throw things off his bed. You gripped onto his shoulders, turning him towards you. “Hey, look at me.” You grabbed his cheeks with your hands, not caring about the blood staining them.

“Let me heal you.” He spoke softly, breathing returning to normal.

You looked at the small cut. “I can wrap it myself.” You told him.

“No, my saliva.” He shook his head, grabbing your wrist softly for fear of hurting you more. “It has healing properties. It'll close.” He looked at you, waiting for you to tell him it was okay.

He looked at you with the softest of eyes, tears building up in them almost. You sighed, nodding your head. “Okay.”

He held your arm in a gentle manner, wanting to make sure you were comfortable. With a soft touch, he raised your wrist to his lips. His hands touched the blood that was seeping out down your forearm but he didn’t bother with the mess.

Instead, you paid close attention to how he tentatively stuck his tongue out to softly lick at your wound. His warm muscle touching your skin made a shiver go down your back, the cold of his saliva entering your wound. He gave it about three kitten licks, pulling back to watch the wound. You looked over at it, watching as the skin quickly formed and it healed over with a scare.

You pulled your hand closer to you, trying to understand the healing that Jungkook was able to do. As he watched you pay close attention to the new skin, he tilted his head to the side.

“Are you okay?” He asked you.

You turned to him, giving him a small smile. “I'm trying to be.” You whispered.

“I'm sorry he did that to you.” He pulled some shirt from the floor, moving to wipe up the blood from your hands and arm.

You gladly took his offering, wiping off what you could. “It's okay, you fixed it.” You told him, holding up your arm.

When you looked up, he still had his eyes fixed on your bruising wrist. You could see how disappointed he was. There was nothing he could do about that because it was an internal wound. You smiled sadly.

As your eyes drifted across his face, you took note of blood you left from your hands. “You have blood on your cheeks.” You spoke, turning the shirt around to be able to wipe at his face.

You grew closer to him, allowing the boy to place his hands on your waist. As you got to cleaning off his cheeks, your eyes kept drifting down to his lips. You noticed him swipe his tongue out, his own eyes drifting over your face.

There was a sudden heat surrounding the both of you. It made you gulp.

Jungkook slowly leaned down, touching his nose with your own. Your lips fell open, breath touching his own. It gave him the courage to connect the two. His lips were soft on yours, and he kissed you with a tender passion.

He didn’t want you to leave his space, so he would try to pull you closer to him. You began to grow hot and not from your own temperature rising. Jungkook was extremely warm, much warmer than he normally was. The heat he radiated made you dizzy but in a good way.

Your hands fell onto his shoulders, fingers twitching to drift under the collar of his shirt. He pulled away from your lips for just a moment, only to take off his shirt. You didn’t get the time to take a look at his body before he quickly pulled you back to him in a searing kiss.

You honestly had no clue what had gotten into the man, but you didn’t know if you wanted it to stop. You pouted as his hands seemed to roam over your scrub pants, down under your bottom and to the back of your thighs. You gasped as he suddenly pulled you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.

He didn’t bother to talk more to you, he only seemed to lay you down onto his bed, hovering over you with loud pants coming out of his mouth.

“Jungkook-” You called, trying to pull him away from your lips.

He kept licking into your mouth, pressing his body over yours. “Jungkook.” You told him more sternly, pulling his head back harshly by his hair.

The boy whimpered loudly, tongue hanging out almost as he continued to huff from the heat. “Jungkook, are you okay?” You asked him, sitting up as you took in the hazy look in his eyes.

Your eyes went wide as you began to worry something was happening to him. You sat up but he only moved closer to you, grabbing you by your hips and pulling you down into his own. You gasped out when his bulge connected with your core, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

“I don’t–I don’t know what’s going on.” He whimpered, lips skimming over the skin of your neck. “I just–I really need to be inside of you.” His hips rutted into yours, holding you still over the edge of the bed.

“Hey, Jungkook.” You spoke up, pulling him to look at you. You almost began to cry at how tears seemed to well up in his eyes.

“Please.” He cried.

You sighed, dropping your hands down to the bottom of your scrubs. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do it; it was just that Jungkook didn’t seem like himself. Not anymore at least. You lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your bra to him.

His tears seemed to stop as his eyes went wide staring at your breasts. You touched his cheeks again, gaining his attention. His eyes were still glossy but he looked at you in wonderment. “Are you okay?” You asked.

He nodded his head slowly, looking back down at the top of your chest. He looked back up at you, waiting for permission. You sighed, dropping down onto the bed to get comfortable. As you did, Jungkook didn’t waste time to attach his mouth to your breasts, taking mouthfuls of skin to suck on them.

He seemed to be in a trance as his body relaxed, allowing his mouth to suckle on your skin. He kept trying to move your bra from around you, but was too shy to actually go all the way. So you moved it for him, unclipping your bra from the back to remove it.

He gasped out as more of you was offered to him, quickly attaching his lips to your nipple. You jumped at the stimulation, having sensitive nipples. The gasp you let out only made him suck harder. The tip of his tongue was running along the hard surface.

While his hips held yours down, his hands moved to your pants fingers slipping under the band. He popped off your breast, pulling back to look at you. He pouted, toying with your scrubs in a way of asking if he could take them off.

You shimmied your hips, allowing them to pull down. He took that as the go ahead and helped you to remove that scrubs. The seamless underwear you wore had a wet spot on them, causing you to blush. Jungkook however didn’t seem to mind as drool began to pool in his mouth.

This time he didn’t bother to look at you for permission. Instead he quickly fell to his knees and stuck his nose into your core.

“Jungkook!” You gasped, sitting up and pushing his head away.

When a growl broke from his chest, you pulled back and shifted on the bed. You looked down at him wide eyed as his own looked up at you sheepishly. He had a grin on his face but he didn’t move from his spot between your thighs.

“Please?” He asked you.

You huffed out, falling back onto the bed. He grinned to himself, moving back to nose at your heat. You moaned out as he seemed to suck over your underwear, trying to close your legs but he was quick to hold them open.

His fingers dug into your thighs, the man making himself comfortable on his knees in front of your core. Once he made your underwear even more wet than originally, he was quick to pull them off you. You weren’t able to see but his pupils grew large as he took in your sweet scent. It was like an aphrodisiac for the wolf.

So like a starved man, he was quick to move open mouth kisses onto your clit and his tongue dragging down to dip into your hole. You gasped out, almost choking on your spit. Your hands flew to his head, pulling at his strands of hair. Jungkook growled as you began to move your hips from how much you were withering. With one arm, he draped it across your hips, stilling your movements with his strong grip.

You continued to moan out, head pulling back as you clawed at his arm to allow you to squirm. But he didn’t let you up, only sucking harshly on your clit face digging harder into your core.

You felt your orgasm approaching, panting even more. “Jungkook-” You cried, wanting to tell him that you were close.

However you hadn’t needed to when he was quick to pull away from you and began to pull his sweats down along with his boxers. You flinched back when he had left your heat, frowning as you suddenly missed his tongue.

He didn’t give you time to dwell on it though as he quickly made his way on top of you. You groaned when you felt his length nudging your thigh. Your hips jerked up, trying to get him to move his cock in the right direction.

“You’re so needy, Tokki.” Jungkook whispered in your ear, licking the shell. You shivered, letting out a breath.

Jungkook moved his hand between you, gripping his length in order to guide him inside of you. Just as you expected he was extremely warm. The warmth from your own core already hot, his only adding to the heat. You were sure that the inside of your thighs were covered in sweat.

When you felt the pop of him pushing all the way in, you let out a moan, back arching into his chest. He growled as he continued to shove himself the rest of the way in, giving you a moment to adjust. As he gave you the time, he began to kiss and lick at the junction between your shoulder and neck, marking that area.

As you began to whine and move your hips along his, he took the movement to start thrusting. Your mouth hung open as moans and gasps fell from your lips. It only seemed to spur Jungkook on as he began to snap his hips faster.

His forehead was dropped on your collarbone, watching as your breasts moved along with you body as he kept slapping his pelvis against your own. He could also see himself disappear into you, which only seemed to pull growls from him.

His fingernails dug into the flesh at your hips, pulling at your skin. He could feel his nails wanting to make an appearance but he kept trying to pull them back to keep from hurting you. What he did instead was bite into your shoulder softly, his lips tightly suctioning themselves into your skin.

Your walls were squeezing him tightly and he was trying hard not to come before you. It was the first time he had experienced something like this with a woman. He’s had relationships with his other coven mates but it was nothing like this. This was different. It was new.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to leave you unsatisfied; the wolf wasn’t going to allow that. So he wanted you to come along with him. He picked up his pace, trying to get you stimulated enough. He even moved a hand down to rub at your clit, having been told what it was by the others.

“Jungkook!” You screamed, your walls throbbing around him.

“Cum for me, Tokki.” He huffed out. “Please.” He begged.

You began to moan louder, huffing as your back arched and your hips seemed to move on their own. “I’m coming.” You cried out, chest pushing up into his.

As your walls tightened around him and your legs clenched up, he allowed himself to quickly pull out stroking his length for a few moments before ultimately finishing on your thighs in a groan.

His seed was hot, and for some reason Jungkook began to shiver as he kept his hands on his cock. He quickly looked down, finding his knot forming causing him to curse. He got up from the bed, moving to the bathroom to get things to clean you up. He picked his underwear up as he went, trying to hide his problem from you.

As he came back, hand still holding his shaft, you looked at him worried. You allowed him to clean you up with one hand but still tried to get him to stop. “Kook, what’s wrong?” You asked, glancing down to his hand.

“It’s a werewolf thing.” He smiled sheepishly. “I just have to be careful with it.”

He handed you one of his shirts, the smell of pine and wood. You pulled it over your body, scooting over in the bed to give him some room. He made himself comfortable on his back, pulling you onto his chest.

“What is it?” You asked.

“It’s–ah–It’s a knot.” You sat up, looking at him as if he was joking.

“Those are actual things?” You asked him.

“Don’t laugh.” He knocked your head over with his fingers.

“I’m not!” You pout. “I just didn’t think the whole werewolf genetics from stories were real. You going to tell me that alphas and omegas are real next?” You giggled.

“You’re laughing at me.” The man pouted.

“No! No.” You giggled, moving up to give his face kisses. “I like my big bad werewolf just the way he is.”

Jungkook began to blush, his teeth showing as his lips pulled up into a grin. Your lips fell onto his, giving him a quick peck which he thoroughly enjoyed. However there seemed to be a problem now.

His bed was not up to par with the comfort he wanted to feel. He needed more blankets.

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moonlightazriel · 4 months

Text

Chapter 17: Let the darkness set us free /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: They finally get face to face with the Valg King.

Word Count: 3,8K

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood and war.

Notes: Hey, I'm back, I'm sorry ahahah hope you guys still remember what happened last chapter cuz I don't

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A droplet of sweat ran down the column of Azriel’s neck, his grip on his shadows was tight, any slip ups and the cover he had on both his and Lucien’s body would be gone and their whole plan would go down the drain. Nesta was the first one, her wrists tied together, Ataraxia buzzed with energy on his back, wanting to be reunited with its owner.

Y/N guided Nesta carefully, her own sword covered by her cloak, and a dagger just a few inches away from the pulsing point in Nesta’s neck. From where he followed them closely, he could see the shaking in her hands, anxiety emanating from her distressed body.

Something deep inside her gut told her this was a mistake, but she knew it was the only way to kill Mantyx and guarantee a way home, even if as the time passed, the idea of going back to Erilea didn’t seem as appealing as it was in the beginning. Her stomach twisted and the content of the breakfast she had that morning threatened to spill as she stepped closer to that bridge.

The idea of getting trapped again with that monster, freeing him from his restraining, facing his full power and full wrath, was something that deeply scared her. But at the same time, she had to, so Prythian wouldn’t be just something else the valgs had destroyed.

The wood underneath her feet creaked with the weight of her boots, Nesta was as silent as the dead, controlled breaths escaping her mouth every once in a while, her icy blue eyes pierced the door, her magic recoiled inside of her as she felt the presence lurking in the shadows of the house.

With a screech, like the hinges couldn’t hold the old oak door for much longer, the door bursts open. Wearing a dark tunic that exposed his chest, his hair slicked back in an attempt to make himself more presentable, Mantyx walked out. His arms stretched forwards, the tips of his fingers itching to touch the power he felt emanating from Nesta.

Both of the females shivered in distress at the wicked grin he gave their way, his golden eyes taking in the bobbing of Nesta’s throat as she swallowed dryly. She was afraid of him and that made everything just so much more exciting.

“When I felt the amount of pain inside of your heart, I knew you could do it for me.” His velvety voice echoed around in the woods, the soldiers hiding there were able to hear it, Cassian clutched his sword harder, not being able to escort his mate inside was killing him, but he trusted Nesta to come back to him alive.

“I would do anything for my sister.” She refused to say Asterin’s name out loud, it was her way of protecting her from the cruelty of another Valg King.

“I know! And you will be compensated.” His smirk grew wider, awfully similar to Maeve’s. “Let’s come inside so we can discuss our plans.” Mantyx pushed Nesta inside, to make sure she wasn’t going anywhere, Y/N followed them closely.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Rhysand mustered his magic, his power seeping around, a huge cloud of mist covering the surrounding of the cabin, a mask to pretend everything was fine while the Vanserras positioned themselves, one by one, they circled the cabin.

Eris felt the doors that keeped his power controlled begging to be open, a wave of magic cursed through his body as he opened it, flooding like a waterfall, he had never felt so powerful before. He imagined his power expanding, forming the dome that would protect them from the evil inside of the cabin.

His brothers and his mother did the same, opening their bodies to that power, allowing that magic to consume and pour out of them, cascading around their limbs in a comfortable warmth. The fire bended to their will, forming the dome around the cabin to prevent them from getting out.

Cassian signalled to his troops that it was time to get in formation. The soldiers spreaded around the woods, their backs turned to the dome, protecting it was the top priority at the moment, if the dome faltered for just a second the consequences could be disastrous and no one in that field wanted to risk it.

So the Illyrians got in a defensive instance, their syphons glowing as shields started to be projected out of them in various colours. Cassian was in the sky, trying to spot any threats before they attacked, but to this moment nothing had appeared and he wondered if Nesta had started with the freeing spell.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her skin prickled at the power who pushed hers back, like it was testing the waters before it attacked her. Koschei or Mantyx, whatever the hell his name was, moved around, his home smelled the same way Y/N did when she came back with the Ridderak’s head and coated in its putrid blood.

Nesta glanced at the female standing quietly in the shadowy corner, her dark blue eyes glued to the stone that called Nesta, a power just as old as the one coating the troves. She was afraid of getting too close, of touching it, afraid that the alluring song would consume her and drive her insane.

There was a faint smell of metal, and she knew the plan had begun. She forced her brain to focus on the words written in the diary. She had spent her days with her nose glued to those pages ever since Y/N and Azriel came back.

“Can I go to the bathroom?” Y/N asked and Mantyx turned his gold eyes to her, like he had just remembered that she was still there.

“Go ahead.” His hand pointed to a door on the opposite wall and the female nodded, placing her hands in front of her body just before she disappeared behind the door.

“What do you want from me?” Nesta asked as the male sat in front of her, three mugs filled with boiling hot tea, it smelled nicely. He threw a charming smile her way and she felt her guts twisting inside her body.

“You are the one who can help me achieve what I want.” He grabbed the mug and brought it to his lips, the sweet taste filled his mouth and he gestured for Nesta to drink her own tea but she shook her head in denial.

“And what would that be?” He blinked a couple of times.

“When I crossed to this world, conquering was my goal. Despite the resistance and the spell that locked me into this particular piece of land, I still will proceed with what I was destined to do.” He took another sip. “But you see, as I'm trapped here, I'm not in my full glory. I need you to free me.”

“I would never do it.” Nesta almost snorted with the irony, she was there to do exactly what he wanted and he had no fucking clue.

“Your power is formidable, you’re the only one who can break this spell, and once I'm free, I will assume my place as the King of Prythian. And you, Nesta Archeron…” He paused and Nesta knew that she should expect a completely absurd idea to come out of his mouth, but she had never expected what he said next. “You will be my queen.”

Nesta choked on her own saliva, a laughter of pure disbelief escaped her mouth and he squinted his eyes like he was offended. He needed a strong female by his side, he had lost his chance with Maeve once, he wouldn’t miss it now.

“I have a mate.” She managed to reply and he rolled his eyes, scoffing like that was irrelevant.

“Mating bonds mean nothing to me, they only serve to make good men weaker.” Nesta couldn’t believe her ears. “And if it matters so much to you, it’s not a problem for me to get rid of that brute you call a mate.” His eyes were glued to hers, in a challenge.

“You won’t touch Cassian.” She blurted, feeling the grip in her emotions slip through her fingers. To her relief, the bathroom door opened loudly and Y/N stepped out of the room, drying her hands on her pants. “You should give her the reward you promised her.” Mantyx leaned closer to Nesta, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered.

“As powerful as I am, not even I could reverse death.” He placed his index finger in front of his mouth as he leaned backwards, away from her, winking so she would keep his secret. “Come sit with us.” And Y/n did as she was told, her knee bumping against Nesta’s.

The female looked at Y/N, watching as she closed her eyes and placed two fingers on her forehead, their secret sign to tell Nesta that everything was ready. Her eyes scanned the room, spotting the blue symbol made with Y/N’s blood, one on the wall she leaned when she entered, one in the bathroom door and one on the wall behind her, she knew that both Azriel and Lucien had made those while she distracted Mantyx.

With an iron nail, she started to free Nesta, her body turned towards the male while she tried to keep his focus solely on her. She talked about Asterin, giving random descriptions to keep him entertained, Mantyx pretended the things she said were relevant, but what he really focused on, was the heartbreak and pain she would feel once he told her the truth. Oh the sweet pain of losing again.

Nesta started chanting the words under her breath, the walls of the cabin starting to shake slightly as she repeated the verses from the diary. In a swift movement, Y/N was standing, her hand covered in black blood as she used her nails to rip his throat open. Mantyx looked at her startled, the motion caughting him by surprise.

Azriel dissipated his shadows, him and Lucien jumping into action, also coating their palms in the blood and rushing to the symbols they made. Nesta’s chanting got louder as she stood in the middle of the room, watching in horror as the wound closed just as quick as it was open.

“Now!” She instructed and the three of them placed their bloodied hands on the middle of the symbols, the pattern started to glow, and the whole earth shook with the power of those ancient chains that tied him to the lake were finally gone.

Mantyx got up, opening his arms and welcoming his full power back into his body. The four of them could feel it, the power emanating from him, dread set in their guts, this wasn’t going to be good. Mantyx walked towards Y/N.

“It’s my turn now.” He said, a horrific grin spread across his face when he wrapped his hand around her neck, squeezing the air out of it. “It’s time for my beasts to play.” He snapped his fingers and it was like the darkness had come to life.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Howling started to sound in the distance and the sound of leathery wings filled the air, Cassian shot up to the skies, followed closely by Rhys. They could see the black cloud approaching quickly, by foot, more horrendous creatures ran to them.

A large tail swung in the cloud, breaking the formation and making a confused mass of black bodies and ripped wings. Meraxes roared loudly, his powerful jaw closing on a bunch of those monsters, that only meant that Koschei was finally free and his family was trapped with that monster.

“They’re coming.” Rhys yelled and Cassian whistled. His troops breaking formation and shooting up towards the sky, protection from above and the sides, should be enough to keep the Vanserras alive.

The first wave of monster hit them by foot as Meraxes kept postponing the arrival of the flying beasts, his claws ripping them, his teeth swallowing their rotting flesh and his tail poisoning them, the beasts struggled to keep flying, falling dead as the poison quickly acted.

Their bodies colliding against the shields, talons trying to find any target, their only motivation was to kill, they didn’t care if they hit each other in the process, as their claws kept digging into each other’s skin, their screeches were agonising to hear.

Devlon commanded the Illyrians forward, their shields pushing the monsters back and their swords cutting through their flesh, but the monsters pushed forward too, their strength showing as their muscles contracted, trying to break their shields.

Cassian soared over their heads, his twin blades in each of his hands, decapitating the monsters as the others killed the ones who were able to escape Meraxes. One of the creatures jumped, landing inside the siege, just to be quickly impaled by a sword, the warrior cutting the monster in two.

Rhysand released his shadows, using his power to kill as many as he could, but the waves of monsters seemed endless, Mantyx had all the time in the world to create an army after all. One of the beast’s sharp teeth had sunk in the skin of his arm, making him growl in anger, spinning around, he cut the monster’s head in one movement.

His violet eyes caught the movement on the other side of the camp. Shining in the sun, the orange feathers of Vassa were beautiful. She squeaked and like a thousand suns, she lit on fire. Her flames finding their target each time, making the beasts shake in despair, moving their bodies around trying to extinguish the fire. Rhysand smiled at her, and with a loud growl, he went back to the brawl.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The air was getting cut out, she couldn’t breath, dark orbs flew around in her vision as she felt her consciousness slip away from her reach. She lifted her hand, wrapping her shaking fingers around the key, cold spread across her fingers, it was like her own soul had died.

At the same time she forced the stone away from him, Nesta had pierced Ataraxia on his arm, forcing him to let go. Y/N fell to the ground, trying to catch her breath, the wyrd key clutched hard on her hand. Mantyx felt the lack of power, looking down to find HIS key in that female’s hand, even with her heavy breathing she smirked at him.

Rage consumed his body, and he kicked her, Azriel growled in anger, jumping in front of her, using the truth teller to slash across his abdomen, but the wounds closed quickly. Mantyx punched him in the face repeatedly, being stopped by both Nesta and Lucien that held his arms back, pulling him away from Azriel’s bleeding face.

The shadowsinger crouched and took her face in between his hands, worry laced his features as he took in the blue coating her lips as she coughed blood from the kick in her belly. “Are you okay?” He asked, helping her to her feet, she nodded, twisting the band that held the key around her hand and grabbing her sword.

Mantyx was skilled, he dodged both Nesta’s and Lucien’s attempts to land a hit on him, moving gracefully like a swan. He wielded his power like a whip, hitting Lucien and Nesta, making them bleed. Y/N and Azriel joined, and Mantyx turned towards them, smelling the air, he scoffed.

“I told you that mating bonds mean nothing to me, and it will be my pleasure to destroy the one tying you two together.” Azriel lost his focus, feeling all the blood drain from his face, he looked over at her, and like a cruel joke, he felt the tug in his chest, the same he felt the day she went into the cabin for the first time, but now he knew what it was and what it meant. The oblivious female standing by his side was his mate, and when Azriel finally got back to reality, it was too late.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Elain felt her head dizzy once more, she was hiding behind the trees, Jurian guarding her when she closed her eyes, another vision filled her head, but this time, one she would never want to see again, Azriel cold body on the floor, his lifeless eyes open and facing the ceiling. Elain gasped, cleaning the blood dripping from her nose and looking at Jurian.

“We need to go, Azriel is in danger.” She grabbed Jurian’s hand, pulling the male towards the cabin; she didn’t care about the beasts that still fought with the Illyrians. Jurian opened the way for them, until she reached the dome, looking for Eris, she knew he would help her.

The male was standing, sweat coating his forehead as he kept using his powers, his eyes turned to her with a curious expression and Elain tried to steady her breath before she spoke.

“I NEED TO GET INSIDE.” Elain yelled over the sounds of the battle and Eris shook his head.

“You can’t, Lucien wouldn’t forgive me if I allowed it.” Elain groaned in frustration.

“Eris you don’t understand, Azriel will die if I don't enter right now.” The autumn heir looked at his sister in law, feeling the urgency in her words.

“Just try not to die.” He warned before he opened a small space on the dome, just enough for Elain to cross, followed by Jurian.

The female ran, crossing the bridge as fast as her feet would allow her, Jurian closely behind her. She reached the door, forcing them open but they didn’t budge. The male joined her, and the two started to force the heavy doors open, the oak woods scraping against the floor.

Elain took in the sight in front of her, Azriel laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, his organs threatening to spill from the hole in his abdomen. Nesta crouched on the floor next to Azriel, trying to catch her breath. Lucien and Y/N had their backs turned to the two of them, and tried to prevent Koschei from getting closer to Azriel.

The two of them approached Azriel quickly, they needed to get him out before he bleeded out and nothing could be done to reverse his condition. He groaned when they lifted him, and Jurian carried most of his weight, dragging him outside and through the bridge.

Elain helped Nesta, pulling her sister with them and urging the remaining two to get out of the dome. Mantyx knew it was his chance, with his whip of power, he forced Lucien and Y/N backwards, forcing them outside, when they tried to remove the dying male he would get out and be free to conquer Prythian.

Jurian waited with Azriel, his body collapsing on the floor, Elain let go of Nesta, sitting on the floor to steady Azriel’s head on her lap, her hands ripping the fabric of her dress to try and stop the bleeding.

“Lucien, we need a way out.” She screamed and in a second her mate was on her side, his face turned to the dome ready to open.

Mantyx eyed Y/N, she held her sword against his power, the wyrd key still tied around on her hand, he just needed to get it back before he freed himself. His gaze softened and a lovingly smile graced his features, the whip disappearing as he prepared to talk.

“If you stop this right now, I'll bring your sister back.” He took a step forwards, slowly walking towards her. “All the pain will be gone in a second, and you will be happy again.” Another step.

Heavy tears fell from her tired eyes, Mantyx still smiled lovingly at her, his eyes however, they were fixed on the wyrd key clutched between her fingers.

“I can take her back to you, you won’t be alone anymore.” He promised, urging her forward with a slender finger.

She gave one step forward, her broken heart would finally find peace. A strangled plea for her to stop, to come back to him, sounded from somewhere behind her back but she didn’t listen.

All she could hear was Asterin’s soft laughter, the wind blew and it was like she could feel her spirit there, watching her. Love poured from the cracks of her heart, love for her sister, for the family they had, for the male bleeding behind her and the friends that welcomed her with open arms.

She kept walking until she was at arms distance from him, just a few inches closer and he would have what he wanted.

“Just give me the key, and I’ll bring her back.” His voice was saccharine, laced in false sympathy, like he could actually feel it.

Burned wood and smoke filled her nostrils, a sparkle of red behind him, and as he reached for the key in her hand, Godslayer pierced his stomach, and from behind him, straight to his heart, Lucien pierced his blade coated in his fire.

Black blood poured from his open mouth, straight to her face, his eyes wide as whatever that kept him alive started to fade.

“I would never want her back, not like this.” She turned her head backwards to her friends that awaited her, to the male being held by Elain, the male she loved so much and didn't have the courage to tell him. “And I’m not alone anymore.”

She removed the sword, stepping backwards and allowing Lucien to burn the fucker down. She closed her eyes, hearing the screams and smelling the burning flesh. She turned on her heels, walking towards Azriel and kneeling in front of him.

“I love you.” She breathed, hands cupping his cheeks and pulling him towards her to kiss him. “I’m so sorry for not saying it earlier.” He groaned.

“We need to get him to a healer.” Lucien spoke, forcing the dome open so they could cross.

Outside, the bodies of the monsters fell to the ground, without their master to keep them alive, they perished. Cassian and Rhysand ran to them, helping Jurian carry Azriel back.

“We have to get him back to Velaris.” Rhys said, and Cassian nodded, the male winnowed, disappearing with his brother. The rest of them would stay back to get everything in order.

“Are you okay?” Nesta said, her body slumping against Y/N.

“No, but once he is okay, I'll be.” She replied. Mantyx had said he was her mate, both her heart and her brain confused on what it even meant.

“Do you still want to go home?” Nesta inquired and Y/N turned to her, sorrow laced her features.

“I have to.” And with that, she left to find Meraxes.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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#moonlightazriel #azriel x reader #shadowsinger #night court #azriel #azriel x y/n #sarahjmaas #velaris #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x oc #worlds apart fic

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Text

When We Cross

There are those that prefer travelling with a partner, be it for companionship or their inability to ask for ketchup by themselves. To Pedro, that person was you.

Pedro Pascal x Reader | >700 | cw: fem!reader, fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: im trying a new layout for the description and i cant tell if its ugly or im just too used what i normally do. oh well

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz @multifandom-fangirl4

You know what would be really nice? A sundae.

Pedro makes a mental note to bring this up after he's gotten to the meetup place.

He makes a sound as he walks down the block. It's a balmy day, nearing the borderline of sweltering. It was manageable to him though. He huffs as he thinks of how sweaty you'd probably be.

Pedro makes a face at the people walking in front of him.

Can these people walk any slower. Like, bro? I've got places to be.

He adjusts the straps of his bags as he overtakes the people in front of him.

He huffs as he reaches the end of the street. A grumble leaves his lips when the pedestrian light goes red the moment his feet touch the curb. The people he overtook are now behind him. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

Pedro brings his hands into his pocket. He pulls out his phone and takes a moment to look at his lockscreen. It's you and him. He can't help the way his lips curve at the sight of it. He really liked this photo. He liked that dress on you and the way you did your hair. He also liked the fact you were licking his cheek. Weirdo.

He licks his lips and tells himself not to think about that day too much, lest he combust on the sidewalk.

His phone dings in his hand: BRO WHERE ARE YOU?

Pedro presses the message quickly replies: almost there :P

Another ding: ?? you mean 😛

Another ding: also HURRY THE FUCK UP

Pedro does not reply and crosses the street instead. As he clutches his bag, his mind drifts to the healthy amount of times you and him crossed the street. He imagines the straps were your fingers in this moment. He feels fuzzy. It's not the same though. Why did you have to be so far away?

He weaves through the crowd and passes a bunch of people seated in the outdoor tables of a café, laughing their heads off. His eyes linger for a moment then he cringes.

Was everyone that loud in cafés? Us too? Geez.

Pedro makes sure his bag doesn't bump into a street light. In doing so, he turns right and catches sight of a drugstore. He thinks of the last time you went to a drugstore together. You raided their first aid section and bought all the cartoon band aids. And well, to be fair, there were only 3 boxes.

He chuckles to himself as he thinks about how you wore a whole purple band aid on your cheek as a pimple patch.

"Cute," he mutters as he watches where he steps on the pavement.

Finally, he's arrived.

He walks into the mall and immediately spots the impeccably impatient woman pacing around just by the entrance.

Pedro walks over to her, "I'm here. I'm here. I'm sorry it took so long. These stupid fucks walk so slow."

"Yeah, it's totally not your fault that you woke up late at-"

"It was five minutes!"

"HA! You mean five hours!"

They begin to argue in Spanish. Eyes are rolled. Lips are pressed in annoyance.

"Whatever!" Pedro finally sasses, raising a hand.

She sasses back, "ugly," she grabs her carry on luggage and they begin to walk off. She motions to the department store on her left, "you should buy a bar."

Pedro glances where she points. He sees the chocolates on display then eyes her hotly.

She raises a brow and shrugs, "a reason to call."

"Quit it," he blurts.

"What?"

Pedro begins to get annoyed.

"You clearly need one, Pedrito."

"I said q uit it."

She groans, "just do it. If you didn't want to, you'd have changed your wallpaper by now."

"I did."

She scoffs and raises her palm in expectation.

Pedro turns away from his annoying sibling. He regrets loving her so much. If he didn't, maybe he'd have bolted and left her all by herself.

"Gimme it. Now," his sister snarls.

He rubs his moustache. She punches his arm.

He releases a breath. He gives her his phone even with the knowledge it will be extremely bad for him.

She opens it once its in her hands. She stops in her tracks when she sees the photo. Pedro manages two steps before he realizes this. He turns to his baby sister and she pouts.

She lowers the phone. Her brother really did change the wallpaper. It used to be a photo of you, now it's a photo of you and him. "Pedro..."

Pedro waits for her to say something more. She only frowns and repeats, "ay, Pedro."

He shrugs, " 's what it is."

She hands him back his phone. They keep walking.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal crackfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal angst #pedro fic #pedro fanfic #pedro x reader #pedro angst #pedro fluff

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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 1 year

Note

Would you write a smut fic with ghost x dom reader x soap??(reader can be fem or gn and make both boys submissive maybe a moment where they fuck each other and the reader watches them and controls them).IDK WRITE IT HOWEVER YOU IMAGINE IT. I just dont have the skill to write so i am requesting it here.I hope its not weird.

I got you (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Ghost x Dom!Reader x Soap

Ghost and Soap find themselves crushing on the same woman on their team, a friendly bout between two comrades to see who you'll choose, only your answer's not one they'd expected to hear.

NSFW 18+, Shameless Smut, Porn With Plot, very little plot, MMF, P in V sex, Tons of Teasing, Steamy Makeouts, Groping, Grinding, Double-Penetration, Anal, Ceampie, Explicit Description, Graphic Language, Dom!Reader, Sub!Soap, Sub!Ghost, Sexual Tension, Some Ghostsoap moments as well, Playful Banter, Bickering, Flirting, Build-Up, Jealousy, Soap and Ghost are fighting over the same girl, but it's friendly competition, ends in a three way too so, will do more proofreading I promise!

WC: 7k ~

Author's Note: This took me way longer to type than it probably should have. I hope it makes for a good read. It's total nonsense, and probably not very realistic (though I do try). It's not exactly like the anon, I'm sorry! But hopefully, it's still good. Please, please, please enjoy, and thank you so much for reading my things!

Masterlist

The front door shut close, leaving the living room just a bit more silent now that its previous company had just departed. You look back towards your remaining two house guests, the smile already unable to stop from forming on your face. You'd been hoping for some alone time with both Ghost and Soap, and it seems fate would smile on you tonight, for now, you had both of them here.

You invited the whole team back over to your place for the weekend, after having just come back from an op with both Price and Gaz, which lasted damn near over a month. The whole thing had been rather uneventful, to say the least; some reconnaissance and leads which went mostly nowhere (well, nowhere for your team; Laswell definitely had a heyday from the sound of things).

With how mind-numbingly dull the whole assignment turned out to be, everyone couldn't be happier to finally sit back and relax with some drinks and good company once back home. All night you spent recapping the events of the mission, including all the monotony which had conspired.

At one point, the most entertainment you could find out there had been both you and Gaz slowly "misplacing" Price's things -- unimportant items that wouldn't do any harm if left unnoticed. You had bets on how long it'd take for him to notice things slowly going missing everyday.

Surprisingly, you nearly got away with it for a whole week, until one morning when he finally questioned the funny look you two had on your faces when he'd been scratching his head, completely perplexed by the absence of his things. Price was in a better mood retelling the story than he had been in the moment.

Eventually, everyone started to disperse as the night went on -- Price got tired and left first, maybe an hour after that Gaz called it a night as well. Once they'd left, you found yourself in your living room with the only two mates you'd been thinking about all day, Ghost and Soap.

Only unbeknownst to both you and each other, both men had deliberately been trying to stick around, having shared the sentiment in wanting some long-awaited alone time with you... except the night keeps getting later, and they both keep giving each other increasingly odd looks, impatiently waiting for the other to leave so they could finally make a move on you.

Both Ghost and Soap have wanted you for a long time now, longer than either men cared to admit. Funnily enough, it was Ghost who'd caught feelings first.

It came to him as randomly as a Tuesday morning. You were just doing what you normally do. However, it had been your mundane actions that somehow drew him in initially. How you go about life with a smile and good attitude, the way you look at him when you found something funny, and the slight lilt to your voice when you talk and get excited. He would feel a lucky man indeed to be yours.

However, Soap had been the one to be more upfront about his interest in you, after developing feelings of his own. The Sergeant's likings to you came suddenly and without warning, but once they'd developed, it couldn't be more obvious that he was down BAD.

More often than not was he finding little excuses to touch you, whether it be a passing hand on the small of your back when squeezing by, or a congratulatory hug after a successful mission. Soap's suave charisma made it easy to do. And with the touching, it was always followed by some sly little line that would have you blushing and pulling at the fabric of your sleeve all shy-like.

He's slowly ramped the flirting up the more time passes, and Ghost knows if he doesn't at least say something now, then it won't be long before Soap takes the chance himself. Tonight had felt a perfect enough opportunity to finally make some waves, though, Soap was fast proving to be a formidable opponent.

"Jeez!" You stretch your hands over your head and yawn dramatically, both men's eyes luring a bit longer than they should have on you as you did so. "I didn't realize how late it was getting."

"Aye, same," Soap lets out a little yawn as well, making himself more comfy on your couch. "You don't mind though, no?"

"Not at all," you say. If only they knew how many nights you've spent letting one of the two men be your idle bedtime fancies into slumber. Wondering what it was they could be doing at that moment in time, and if they'd been thinking of you too. "I missed you guys."

"Aw, we missed you too, lass," Soap smiles at you, before his gaze drops over to Ghost's, who'd begun to glare.

He often forgoes the mask in more domestic environments like this with the team, the others having already seen him before. Though it didn't stop the man from forgetting not to wear his emotions on his face like he still had one on. You thought his eyes were expressive, but little had you all known it was only the tip of the iceberg.

Keeping calm and remaining stoic in combat is one thing, however, anger and disapproval came easy to him, in which case he rivaled for having the worst poker face you'd ever seen.

The Sergeant had taken this fouled expression for disagreement in his statement, even as the look had been for an entirely different reason altogether. Soap merely goes on, "Or, I missed you at least. Ghost might feel differently."

Bastard. Putting him on the spot like this; Ghost almost chuckles, the cheeky fuck. He knew what Soap was trying to do: subtly make himself look better in your eyes so that you choose him over the other.

Had he known better, Ghost would think Soap might actually be aware of the lieutenant's crush on you, by the way he smirked in his direction after saying it. He admits he hadn't expected Soap to partake in such petty games either; then again, this was a first, the two of them liking the same woman like this.

If this is how he plays, then Ghost thought only one thing -- Game on.

"Oh I'm sure you missed me too," you stand up from the couch now, twirling over to face him. "Right, Si'?"

"And then some, love," Ghost says.

Your smile brightens, and the man is ashamed to say that it gives him the warm fuzzies in these late hours. The way the living room lighting curved over your neck had also been a sight worth eliciting something deep within him.

Ghost takes a quick glance over at Soap, catching his less-than-excited reaction to the lieutenant's successful line. He has to remember not to grow too expressive at that moment. Not with you here at least.

You excuse yourself to the restroom shortly after, having paid no mind to the growing tension between your comrades. You'd all but taken the soothing atmosphere with you, leaving instead an awkward aura Ghost and Soap willfully drowned themselves in.

It's Ghost who speaks first, his dark eyes having watched your backside make its way down the hall and round the corner. The more drink he had in him, the less subtle his staring grew. Soap has noticed as much tonight especially.

"It's gettin' rather late." Ghost straightens up in his seat before finishing off his Bourbon and placing it back down on the coffee table. "Damn near one in the a.m. Yet you look proper cozy, mate."

"Aye, I am," Soap says rather proudly, further making his point by getting comfortable on the couch and taking another swig of his tequila. "Been too long since I been 'ere. Was startin' to miss layin' on the ol' thing," he rubs the cushion as though he were petting an old dog.

Ghost leans back in his seat now. "You stay over this late often, then?"

Soap pauses, having to double take that question, until his blue eyes fell on Ghost's brown ones, and he saw clearly what he was asking him.

He asks the man right back, "Do you, mate?"

A cocky little grin forms on the Scotsman's face. Had Ghost not been so wrapped up in you, it might have brought him to a pause there. Soap always did have a nice smile.

Soap didn't have to be a genius to know Ghost liked you though; he goes all but slack-jaw anytime you walk by him. Not to mention it wasn't a common thing for Ghost to be the one sticking around late during a get-together. He's normally the first to call it a night, in fact.

Only tonight, that hadn't been the case for him at all. No, Ghost was as planted in his chair as Soap was; they both might as well have sprouted roots. And they both had enough drink to muster up the right amount of bravado needed to keep this sudden, little interrogation going.

"I asked you first, Johnny," Ghost says, his deep voice laced with something more playfully cunning.

"And I answered you," Soap teases back.

"With a question."

"It's still an answer, no?"

Now Soap was just being deliberately obtuse. Ever since he knew he could do it, Soap's enjoyed pushing the lieutenant's buttons and getting a rile out of him. It's only increased tenfold over the last year, not that Ghost has tried to stop him.

Ghost leans forward now, resting his arms on his knees and furrowing his brow. "A'right, out with it, then," he says. "What's your game 'ere?"

Soap's brow furrows rather facetiously. '"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Don’t play dumb Johnny." The playful tone Ghost once used before has now since cooled, growing darker. "You know wha' I'm askin'."

Soap merely smirks, resting his arm back against the couch. "The same game you're playing, yeah?"

"And what game is that, Johnny?"

Soap can't help but laugh now, growing more and more cocky with each loaded exchange. On a normal day, Ghost might manage to intimidate the Sergeant every so often with his sheer presence, let alone his words. However, when it comes to women, Soap couldn't feel more in his element, especially up against his superior.

"One I'll beat you in."

Now it's Ghost's turn to have a laugh. A subtle thing, trapped beneath the burliness of his chest, though its deep rumble is audible enough, having warmed the Scotsman's cheeks at the sound.

"I doubt that," Ghost says.

"You underestimate my charm L.T."

Soap puckers his lips and kisses the air between the two men mockingly. As much as Ghost tried to hide it, the sight had made the air catch in his throat for a second. It's that usual, competitive nature about the Sergeant that really gets Ghost's blood pumping during these mutual bouts of bickering.

"My last statement still stands," Ghost chuckles. "So what? You thought I'd leave and you two would just go at it then?"

"I wouldn't say it like that," Soap says. "...But I was hoping to have some alone time with her, yes."

"And you figured on waitin' for the rest of us to vacate before making a move..." Ghost shrugs with affirmation. "...Clever man."

"Yeah, well, what about you?" Soap asks. "Clearly we're both still here for the same reason. What's your "game", L.T.?"

"It's not your concern."

Soap groans, sinking back in his seat, though he hadn't been surprised by his response. "Suppose it isn't, then," he says. "It's hers."

"That's right," Ghost agrees. "We can't both have her."

"Can't we?"

Ghost brings his eyes forward to Soap's, having thought his comment been a mere joke. However, once their gazes matched, Ghost could see that his Sergeant was dead serious.

Personally, Soap's never been opposed to the idea of a threesome. He'd even be lying if he said he hadn't fantasized about it from time to time, as boyish as it sounds. Adding Ghost into that equation hadn't tripped him up much in the slightest either; Lord knows the lieutenant would be next on Soap's list if you weren't at the top of it already.

Still, Ghost had a hard time even picturing a scenario where something like that could happen, let alone with all three of you. No doubt the man had been interested in you, and for a while, he'd even felt something for Soap as well, feelings that haven't necessarily gone away.

Something with all three of you would no doubt be perfect, however, it just seemed...

"Let's be real here, Johnny." Ghost leaves it at that.

"Suit yourself," Soap merely shrugs, before a light bulb moment suddenly lets off in his eyes. "How about we bring this to the source then? Hey Y/N!"

"Soap-"

"Oi, calm down, mate," he smiles at him. "No point in beatin' 'round the bush, aye?"

You reemerge from around the corner, having heard their voices vaguely through your door this entire time, but not being able to put full words together. Not without having your ear pressed to the wall. From the "uh-oh" look you had on your face, though, something told the two men you were already preparing for them to say something crazy.

"What's up?"

Soap gives Ghost a final look, waiting to see if the man will protest. However, when he sees that he doesn't speak, Soap grins, turning back to you.

"If you had to pick between Ghost and I, who're you choosin'?"

"Pick for what?" you ask, certainly needing clarification. "For battle?"

Soap bursts out laughing, just now feeling how awkward it was going to be explaining this to you. "No," he says. "Like if you had to pick one of us to... I don't know, go out on a date with, who would you pick?"

You keep smiling at Soap like he's joking, waiting to hear him laugh, but once you see he hasn't budged, you feel your heart begin to race.

Your eyes grow wide, now suddenly embarrassed to have the spotlight on you. "You're seriously asking?"

Soap nods. "I am."

You look over at Ghost now. Surely this was just another one of Soap's antics. "You too?"

Ghost shrugs. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious."

You were hoping he wouldn't say that. But, if they were asking, then may God be your witness as you answer them.

Placing a hand to your chin, you pout to yourself and look back and forth between your teammates, sizing both men up for every physical feature they had to offer.

Your mind immediately goes to the gutter, not being able to help it. You've found them both distractingly good-looking ever since you joined the team, and you've more than thought about this before. Just never in comparison. Or out loud.

Soap looks like he'd be fun to play with -- he's eager, energetic, and even better, open-minded. Not to mention he was cocky too; you always liked a man who could talk his shit and back it up. With those big arms of his, he could just box you in against the bed and pin you down good and firm, as he drills into you, cooing that sweet little accent of his in your ear like he would. It made your body tingle just thinking about it.

And then there was Ghost; if there was any voice you wouldn't mind having growled in your ear while being fucked senseless, it was his. Unlike Soap, you just knew you wouldn't get it rough like you would from Ghost. You've lost count of how many times you've caught yourself gawking at him during sparring sessions or while out in the field, watching that bulking mass of muscle of his he called a body, manhandle any and everything in his way. Having him do the same to you in a more intimate sense never failed to make the lower parts of yourself start to throb at the thought.

After giving both men a good, long look, you sigh, letting your arms fall back to your sides.

"I can't choose."

"Ah, don't be shy now, lass," Soap says. "If you're worried about hurtin' our feelings-"

"No it's not that," you cut in. "It's just not an easy choice, you know?"

Ghost raises an eyebrow now. "Oh?"

"Oh, don't act all surprised, Simon."

"You like us both then?" Soap asks cautiously.

"I'd say so." You begin to smirk. "Why? What's going on here?"

The two give each other a look, before Ghost goes to explain things to you.

"We're just trying to figure out which one of us has a shot."

"Figures you should be the deciding vote, seeing as you're the subject of interest, lass."

You imagine you look pretty stupid standing at the center of your living room all wide-eyed like you do, but frankly, this just feels too good to be true. It hadn't been one of them that was supposedly into you, but both of them. If you could do a backflip, you'd do twelve right now, no questions asked.

But before you get head over heels about this, "So you're saying you both want me then?"

"In more ways than one, darlin'," Soap teases.

You glance over at Ghost this time, having taken note of his sudden silence. "You too, Simon?"

He hadn't necessarily been prepared to confess his feelings to you, not like this, and much less in front of an opposing audience. Still, Ghost wouldn't have his own Sergeant show him up so easily. Plus, the way your eyes lured at him this whole time had a chill running down his spine, making it hard to concentrate. So he nods, "That's right."

A devilish smile slowly creeps over your lips.

"Well, can't I just have you both?"

"Aye, that's what I'm sayin'!"

"Problem solved then, right?" You laugh.

"If only," Soap says. "Ghost didn't seem up for it when I brought it up earlier-"

"You puttin' words in my mouth now, Johnny." Ghost cuts in.

"Oh, don't switch up now L.T.-"

"Boys," you cut in before they've started going back in forth again, a playful smile still painting your lips. You were eating this up, if you were being honest. "Relax," you say. "We can... get to the bottom of this, yeah?"

Both your eyes shift over to Ghost, who now sits awkwardly to himself on the couch, hands resting motionless on his large lap.

"Well Simon?" You ask him. "Are you down?"

"I'm not one for sharing, love," Ghost coos at you.

You slowly make your way over to the lieutenant, your eyes looming over him like a panther that's just found its next meal. Ghost feels himself hold his breath, watching as you've paused just in front of him, your back now facing Soap, though you can feel his eyes on your backside, taking in the nice view of you, and feeling himself grow harder in his pants.

This close, having smelt your scent on the way over, and felt the remnants of your breath in the air between you two, Ghost could feel his mind beginning to slip out from itself, heading into dangerous territories.

He could see in your eyes you knew exactly what you were doing too. Exactly what you wanted to do. The ball was in your park, and that made you in charge from this point on. The only thing they needed to do now was listen. And Ghost was sitting at the edge of his seat, waiting to hear you.

"Come on, Si'," you say so playfully. "Don't be greedy."

Ghost merely scoffs, an awkward smile forming. "How can I not?"

As though to then challenge the man, you step even closer, placing yourself right at the brink between his legs, having now rested your dainty hands over his muscular thighs like a ledge to lean on. The man can't even stop himself from letting his hands rest on your hips, your body naturally shifting just a little closer as he's done it. Every little thing you did had him ready to tear you out of your clothes and devour you whole.

No, the man knows he's too greedy for his own good. If he had even the smallest taste of you, he wouldn't want your attention on no one other than him. Howbeit, looking back over towards the Sergeant only made him want to throw that caution out the window.

Soap doesn't see the man staring daggers into him at first; his blue eyes have been glued to your ass since you turned your back to him. For the short second he does glance up at the lieutenant, he grins daringly. Taunting him to go home and tuck tail so he could have you all to himself instead. Make this easier for him tonight.

That's just what Soap wants, Ghost thought. Here the opportunity was now to have you, and he's fumbling it away all because he feels he can't share with Soap. Saying it again in his head like that gets him thinking though. If that's the only hurdle between him and you fucking, then it seemed easy enough to step over.

He won't back down that easily, even if he has to "share" you. If you want him like he wants you, then you'll have him, however way you like, just as he'll have you.

Ghost brings his hands down and lets his fingers graze your ass just enough for the Sergeant to see since he couldn't keep his eyes off you. Sickly enough, he hopes the sight is driving the Scot mad. God knows Ghost feels mad enough himself.

The minute you've felt his touch on you, you hum pleasantly, stepping even closer, so that he could take better hold of your bottom and have your small body caged between his large arms and legs like walls, his face only inches or so from yours.

Ghost could feel himself getting more comfortable with the idea of sharing. At least when he had you to himself like this. Especially with how your hands have begun to leisurely rest over his shoulders now, keeping the man just as close.

"I knew you'd come around," you praise, your words now having the man feeling giddy, ready to take them to further levels.

"Just takes the right convincing," he hums.

"I'm feelin' awfully lonely back 'ere," Soap chimes in, doing the best he could not to sink so low as to start touching himself before being given the OK by you first, wanting to hear the words leave your pretty, little mouth. Even as his cock was already throbbing in his pants for some relief.

You merely chuckle, cocking your head back to look at the Sergeant. "I haven't forgotten about you, don't worry," you coo. "You just be a good little lad and wait a moment, yeah?"

Though he wanted to protest, step over, and take you all for himself, Soap did as you told him to and stayed put, continuing to let his eyes have their way with the parts of your body he's all but only been able to steal quick glances at before. He could only hope his patience would be rewarded; and so long as you keep talking to him like you are now, he'll wait until the sun rises if he has to.

You turn your attention back to Ghost, not having forgotten about his hands which oh so nonchalantly groped the cheeks of your ass, kneading and massaging his fingers into the backs of your thighs. He wanted nothing more than to keep letting his hands roam until they've found the center of you, his mind already playing the short gasps and moans you'd make with his fingers knuckle deep in you.

He knew you'd only make him regret it if he so much as did anything without your say-so first.

You reveled at seeing both men so eager and receptive to listen, given how fast this all went down. Frankly, it's got your head spinning so fast that you feel like you've just been drugged. However, rather than let that adrenaline crumble you down, you instead use it as chaotic fuel to your lustful actions.

You climb onto Ghost's lap like a backward chair, straddling him down with your thighs and rocking yourself against him. As he's felt you grind generously so, a tattered breath escapes his lips. Broken and faint. His expression does all it can do to remain as still as possible, only to fail, as his gaze lowers, bouncing between your eyes and lips.

Having his hands grow a mind of their own, Ghost lets them slide to your back, encouraging you to keep moving against him, which you do gladly, the lust bubbling down your lower half like a chemical reaction.

"Fuck, love," Ghost huffs out. "You're really takin' me for a ride right now, aren't you?"

"Hope you're buckled in," you tease, following it with another smooth sway of your hips, giving the man a deep grind hard enough to leave him breathing heavy.

Just when he's about ready to kiss you, you look back over at Soap, smiling. Your index finger lifts innocently, beckoning the man. "Come along now, big boy," you say.

You don't have to tell him twice.

In a matter of seconds, the man is behind you, towering over you and keeping you now sandwiched between both him and Ghost.

When you see they're both waiting on your next word, you chuckle to yourself, the power now starting to go to your head. To think, you had two of the deadliest men on your team damn near drooling, ready to fuck you. How could you not let it get to your head?

"Well," you give both men a final lurid, look, and say, "I'm waiting."

Soap and Ghost exchange wary looks, suddenly unsure of what to do with themselves now that they had you like this. Evidently, despite you already sitting on the lieutenant's lap, it's Soap who swoops in for the kiss first.

You feel his large hand push past your hair and curve around your jaw, his fingers grazing your neck before he's cocked your head back to give you a proper eye-fucking, before he's leaned down and smacked his mouth against yours, Ghost be damned.

You wiggle on Ghost's lap, your legs tightening over his thighs in an attempt to keep balance as the Sergeant all but swallowed you whole, his hands cupping around your face, keeping you from escaping.

Using the Sergeant as further support, you stretch your arms over your head and let them rest against Soap's shoulders like a warm wall, your hands cupping his face and keeping him just as pulled in, your tongues trading the taste of each other and your body unconsciously rocking over Ghost's crotch, feeling two sets of arousal brim in you from top to bottom.

Having you bouncing over his cock like this was driving Ghost feral, getting off on just the sight of you. Of course, watching you make precise work with Soap's mouth soon had the lieutenant wanting more, growing impatient waiting for the Sergeant to let up.

Ghost instead lets his hands cup over your breast, groping and massaging them generously through your shirt. His mouth finds your neck bare for his teeth, sinking them in lightly each time before he's left a heated kiss in its place, letting his lips travel down your neck until he's felt his tongue graze your collarbone, complimenting the kissing Soap gave you above.

Your mouth may be occupied by the Sergeant's, but your body belonged to the lieutenant, so long as you continued to bounce on top of him like you were.

He lets one hand leave your breast, sliding his fingers and letting them dig against your clothed skin, until it's ducked between your legs, beginning to fumble with the buttons of your pants.

It's here you've parted your mouth from Soap's, the man looking down at your doe-eyed expression, hungering for more. You see the tinge of excitement that lights up in the sky-blue of his eyes as he watches your hands make their way toward his belt, swiftly undoing it and pulling it from his waist. If Ghost would have his way with you, then you would have yours with Soap.

Ghost has slipped his hand into your pants just as you've sprung Soap's cock free of its trouser, his large member sitting in your palm like a heavy, third limb. Soap can barely enjoy the sight of you holding him so close before you've let your tongue tease over the head of him, sucking lightly at the tip and tasting the remnants of his precum on your tongue.

Soap lets his head cock back pleasurably, groaning out to himself with a smile. "Ah," he groans, "You're too good to me, Bonnie."

Soap lets his hands rest at the side of your head rather brutishly, lightly nudging your mouth further down onto his cock, his abs tensing as he listened to the light gags you let out. Despite his persistence, you kept control of yourself, making sure that your movements had the man locked into your touch. It hadn't helped that your mind was caught in two places right now.

Ghost let his two fingers massage against your clit as though he were tasked with his life to see the job done properly. The tips of his fingers dip between your folds and tease your hole, before letting your slick lubricate him, soon to return rubbing against your bud in ways that made the entire lower half of your body feel sore with lust.

And it hadn't been enough to have his hand down your pants making a ruined mess of you. Ghost's other hand very much continued to pluck and roll at your nipple, having slipped beneath your shirt at some point during the interaction, holding against you as you rocked yourself against his hand, your moans humming over the Sergeant's cock and sending a wave of euphoria down him as well.

With one hand still free, you decide it's time that Ghost enjoys himself as well. He watches your single hand with hungry eyes, slightly shaken and erratic from both his fingering and Soap's cock a mere inch away from hitting the back of your throat, the man's groans of approval like music to your ears. Your hand travels down to his belt and undoes it with ease before you've slipped him free of his jeans as well, your fingers taking in the very shape of him.

Your thumb grazes his dripping tip, letting it slick down his shaft before you've begun to pump at him, feeling the man's body tense at your touch. It makes his fingers against your clit lose their rhythm, but only momentarily.

"Fuckin' hell," he breathes out. "Just like tha', love."

The Sergeant glances down at the lieutenant, catching his dazed eyes locked on your bobbing mouth, taking in a full review of your work on the Sergeant's cock.

He could see it in the man's eyes, he was jealous, envious that he had your mouth all to himself while he had to settle for your hand. Granted your fingers danced about his shaft like an angel in her craft, though even he couldn't resist the allure that was watching your saliva dribble down his subordinate's cock, imagining the warmth of your throat struggling to take his entire length. You've felt his cock throb in your hands just at the thought, his hips faintly chasing your purposefully coy grip on him.

Soap chuckles, not being used to seeing his superior so awestruck and drunk with lust, hearing all sorts of noises and groans from the man he could never have imagined.

"Enjoyin' the show there, L.T.?" Soap teases, quickly following it by readjusting his hand on the side of your face, taking light hold of you to help further steady your already perfect rhythm.

In response, Ghost slips a third finger in you, listening to the carnal noises your cunt made at each thrust of his fingers, watching your mouth twitch over the Sergeant, momentarily struggling to suck him off through the moans that clawed out of you. That gets you to put more attention back on Ghost, your hand taking better hold of his cock and dancing over the large girth of him, keeping a steady motion until you've seen the wave-like rising and falling of his chest.

Through his light panting, Ghost taunts, "Got the best seat in the house, Johnny."

"Oh, is tha' righ', mate?" Soap licks his lips, and lets his eyes drop noticeably down to the lieutenant's cock, watching your single hand continue to pump at him, barely able to hold it all in one hand. It makes the Sergeant let out a teasing groan. "Shall we put it to the test then, L.T.?"

Ghost stares at the Sergeant, hungry for the man just as much as he starved for you.

"Be my guest, Johnny."

Hearing the two go back and forth had you giddy to see what both men had in store for each other. However, it had you just as eager to join in on the fray yourself.

After what felt like an eternity of having your drool dribble itself over the Sergeant's cock, you let your lips part from him, and with your other hand, remove yourself from Ghost as well, giggling at their kicked-puppy-dog expressions.

"I have a better idea," you say. You reach for the bottom of your shirt before pulling it over your head and discarding it at the edge of the couch. Once removed, both men fell on the same page rather quickly.

Soap's hands hastily fumbled at the clasp of your bra, before the fabric has fallen loose and your chest now lay bare for Ghost's full perusal. He hardly any time to truly enjoy it before you've momentarily climbed from him to rid yourself of the rest of your clothing, now standing a dripping, naked beauty of a woman.

Both men could do nothing more but stare, hands subconsciously stroking oneselves at the sight of you.

"Now," you say. "I can't have you both feeling so left out while the other fucks me."

"It would be cruel," Ghost quips gruffly, his eyes having been glued to your chest since he's seen your breast bounce so freely before him.

You step back over to Ghost, retaking your place over his lap and letting his cock rest thick beneath you, your sopping folds hugging warmly over him, sending a shiver down his entire body. You grind slowly, letting your fluids paint him, and wetting yourself good for what you were dying to have.

Ghost leans in, letting his hand rest on the small of your back and his lips caress the shell of your ear. "This is much crueler," he whispers. His hands immediately cupped over your breast again, recapturing the feeling of you and letting his hips lightly rock, chasing every part of you he could.

You lean forward until you've felt his nose brush the tip of yours and his breath tickle your lips.

"Don't get pouty now, Si'," you coo.

"Aye," Soap chimes in. "You're the one goin' first."

You look over at Soap playfully, leaning forward to pull him back in close by the hem of his shirt.

"I already told you two not to be greedy," you let your hand retake hold of him, your fingers curving over his girthy length gently. It shuts him up quickly, coming back in so closely to you both. "You two can share."

"What's your plan then, love?" Ghost asks, already having let his hand dive back down between your legs, gripping over his cock so the tip of his head could tease at your hole, wetness and slick coating you both.

You take your hand and you rub it against yourself, making sure every bit of your parts below had been lubed. You bring that same, dripping hand back up to Soap, before dressing his cock with your warm fluids, massaging the man, and feeling the grooves of his veins against your fingers throb.

"Now be a good little spotter and watch my back," you say playfully, before letting your eyes dip back down to Ghost. "I think the lieutenant's got the front covered."

Soap chuckles to himself, before you've felt his large hands rest gently against your bare shoulders, his callous fingers running down slowly to take a hefty handful of your ass, gripping the cheek tightly. He spreads you roughly, his eyes growing large at the sight of you, already knowing his cock would be more than a tight fit for you and devilishly longing for it.

As you've felt Soap rub his cock between your ass, letting your cheeks hug him, his hand digging possessively into your skin, you feel Ghost's hand lock over your neck, holding you there gently in front of him. That way your eyes could stay on him as his cock continued to gently nudge at your hole, only a single thrust away from finally entering you.

"You sure you can take us both?" Ghost asks.

"Wouldn't want to hurt you, lass," Soap adds in.

You position yourself better over Ghost, ready to retake your seat.

"I can handle myself, boys," you say. "Now, show me who wants it more."

You lower yourself on Ghost's cocks, feeling your folds begin to stretch and the grooves of your walls run by every vein and shape of him. It's too much at first, and he can see it in your wincing face, however, you keep lowering yourself, powering through that initial pain and instead letting that pressure boil in you like nothing you've ever felt before. It was overwhelming, and it had your lips quivering with silent moans already.

Just as you've felt your pussy start to take the full length of him, you've felt Soap tease at your second hole, his cock rubbing playfully at you, the tip dipping in ever so slightly, giving you a completely new feeling altogether. His cock stretches you just as much as Ghost's, both men easing your body to the shape of them all at once, and both waves of pleasure complimenting each other in ways that had your body shaking over them, unable to string words together.

"Fuckin' Christ, you're tight, Bonnie," Soap groans.

"Don't... stop...," you say desperately, wanting to squash any reluctance they may feel. The pleasure your body ached for was just now beginning to reach its peak. "...I can take it."

Once your body adjusted, it hadn't grown long before this slow easing had turned into an organized attack, both men pounding savagely into you.

You sat, nearly sandwiched between two men, your chest pressed against Ghost's as he hugged you to him, his cock bullying into you powerfully, the base of himself smacking against your pussy at each thrust.

In rhythm, Soap rests his chest against your back, planting kisses at your spine each time he's let himself thrust just a bit deeper inside your ass. Your hole gripped his cock so tightly it nearly pulled at him each time he came out, only to crash another orgasm-inducing thrust into you, both him and Ghost going back in forth like well-trained machines.

"That's right lovey, there you go," Ghost praises you, his breath fanning your ear. "You're takin' us so well."

In the midst of both men's vicious pounding, it felt as though every bit of you all had been entangled in some way. Hands clumsily felt, hugged, and tugged at one another, chests heaving and moans forming an opera within your living room.

When your tongue wasn't dipping itself into Ghost's mouth, then you're head was cocked back, having a few more kisses be stolen from you by Soap. At some points even, when you're face was buried in Ghost's chest attempting to muffle your moans, you've felt both men lean in to keep each other company in the meantime, rough lips pressed harshly to one another in a passionate kiss you only wished to mirror once they've parted.

Mouths part just enough to concentrate on breathing, each gasp of air being halted by yet another thrust from both ends of you.

Both men have felt an animal-like fury come out of them at each orgasm they've pulled, feeling your body tighten over their cocks and your limbs shake with pleasure, drool, and tears leaking from you, your mind completely scrambled after eleven straight minutes of this.

It isn't until Ghost has opened his eyes again, finding your face twisted with pleasure, and seeing the Sergeant's love-drunk expression -- eyes half-lidded with lust, biting his lip -- that Ghost feels himself finally at his end.

His fingers claw harshly into your skin, his pace growing punishable. Seeing the lieutenant move so carnally clicked in the sergeant's mind quickly what that had meant, already being at the brink of a climax himself.

You hug yourself over Ghost's shoulders, your body so exhausted you could pass out right now before they've even finished. Even so, you couldn't get enough of this sensation; this could go on for another hour if they wanted it to.

"...I'm ready for it," you moan. "Give it to me..."

Both men's cocks pulsate in you, your holes being filled to the brim with their cum, as it drips from you sloppily once they've pulled themselves out.

With heavy huffs, everyone in the room falls back onto the couch, taking a moment to themselves to regain their air. You still couldn't believe that just happened... that any of this had happened.

"So," Soap pants out, about ready to crash on your couch again. "Which one of us did'ye think wanted you more?"

You give Soap a sly look, baffled he would even ask you that right now. "I don't know."

Author's Note: The behemoth has been slain! I'm NEVER typing a request that is longer than 3k words ever again (this took me almost a month and a half to type due to my schedule). However, I am open to any requests for prompts with the CoD boys, though preferably none that are straight smut (I'm kind of burnt out on it atm :/).

I do hope you enjoyed this, however, and please feel free to leave a comment or any feedback! Thank you again!

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year

Text

Lavender - Ch. 20

Life in the QZ gets worse and you're called outside the walls again. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-19 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (broken up), Tommy Miller x Reader

Warnings: Mild smut, talk of extreme police action, description of injuries. No use of Y/N. Minors, DNI 18+ only

Length: 6.5k

Saturday, June 11, 2011 - One Year Later

“I can only keep them off your back so long,” Elias was all but stalking you into an operating room as you made sure your hair was tucked below your scrub cap. “At some point…”

“I’m not asking for you to keep them off my back,” you said, pausing at the door to go scrub in. “Don’t need to lie, don’t need make up an excuse. Tell them I think they’re fascists and that I’m not going to prop up their dystopian police state.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted.

“They’re going to do it with or without you there,” he said. “This isn’t the hill you want to die on…”

“I think it’s exactly the hill to fucking die on, actually,” you snapped.

“And if they decide to execute you, too?” He demanded. “What then?”

“Sounds like you’ll need to find someone to fill in for me on Saturdays,” you shrugged. He glared at you. “Can I go do this hernia repair now or are you going to keep trying to get me to be a tool in the continued downfall of humanity?”

“Sometimes we can’t solve everything ourselves,” he said. “Sometimes we have to go along with awful things because we can do more good if we survive it.”

You sighed.

“They don’t know shit about medicine, right?” You said. He nodded once. “Great. Tell them you really just can’t spare me because I’m the only one who can do some stupid common surgical procedure so you need me here when I’m on duty. Because it’s just raining appendicitis here in the QZ. I imagine that will satisfy them and they can figure out how to check the pulse of someone they’ve hanged themselves without dragging me into it…”

“Might work,” he sighed.

“None of us should be a part of this,” you said. “Not just me. None of us should. It goes against our oath and even if it didn’t, it’s cruel and wrong.”

“I agree,” he said. “But imagine how many people would die if they executed the entire clinic for insubordination. Oaths are complicated things. Sometimes, we have to look beyond just ourselves and consider what’s best for the whole.”

“What’s best for the whole is FEDRA not executing people who have broken curfew one too many times because suddenly they’re dissidents,” you replied and then you sighed. “I do need to actually operate, I’ve got another hernia repair after this one… I’m sorry you’re stuck dealing with this shit. If you can keep me out of it while letting me keep my head, I’d appreciate it.”

“Just… try not to call any of the guards fascist to their face, alright?” He said. “I’d rather you not end up shot in the street.”

“I’ll do my best.”

You went in to scrub and ground your teeth. Things had been steadily going down hill with FEDRA for the last six months.

Patrols had increased drastically. They instituted a curfew about 10 months back that people didn’t take seriously at first - especially not the speakeasy crowd. Being home by midnight seemed outrageous.

Then the executions started.

They waited a few months before they started killing people. Gave people citations. Warned them that they’d be seen as conspirators with the Fireflies, the militarized resistance to FEDRA. From what you’d heard on your regular visits to the radio - you were still hoping against hope to find Cassie one day, though you were far less certain of her survival than you’d ever been of Joel and Tommy’s - that the fireflies were gaining strength across all the other QZs. People were angry that things weren’t getting better. You didn’t blame them.

The first sign you had that you, specifically, needed to worry about getting roped in was when Andrew showed up to your apartment one evening, looking distraught.

“Hey,” you frowned, pulling him inside. You led him to your couch and he sat down, almost in a daze. “What’s going on?”

“Guards just came by, they took Jess, said they needed her, they’re doing something outside the walls, I don’t know what they need her for out there, it doesn’t make sense,” his voice cracked. “I don’t know what they need her for, what if something happens? She’s never been out there, she’s from Boston, she came right here, what if…”

You pulled him into a hug, his arms going around your waist, his head buried in your stomach and he let out a choking sob.

“It’s OK,” you ran your fingers through his hair. “It’ll be OK, they’ll look out for her. She’s going to be OK.”

He spent the night that night, you sandwiched between him and Tommy (“This is weird, right?” Tommy said. “I mean, I’m fine with it, I just want to know that I’m not crazy.” “It’s weird,” you and Andrew said together.) Jess came back the next day, shaken but otherwise OK. It was the first of numerous trips for her outside the walls of the QZ. They were trying to use her to justify increased militarized presence through psychology, how that would help keep raiders under control. They were trying to prove their own worth. It was only a matter of time before they started roping in medical staff and teachers, too.

Meanwhile, the Fireflies were getting more outspoken, more vocal and more violent. The tighter FEDRA seemed to squeeze, the more people wanted to back the Fireflies. It was so incredibly stupid on FEDRA’s part it took all you had to not walk off both your jobs. The only thing that kept you going was the fact that it was the best way you could help people. There were no schools or clinics that weren’t run by FEDRA. If you wanted to teach, if you wanted to heal, there were no other options.

And you could use your connections to keep Tommy, Joel and Tess safe.

They were still making their smuggling runs. You tried talking Tommy out of it every time he was about to leave for another one, all but begging him to stay with you instead of going out again.

“What, and leave Tess and Joel without all my skills to back them up?” He kissed your forehead. “C’mon. I’m basically the only reason they’re still alive, Sweetheart. Can’t let them go it alone.”

So you kept them stocked in trauma supplies, stealing things from work with even greater regularity. Tommy kept showing up at your door battered and bruised. You’d taken to keeping a suture kit at your house, regularly needing to stitch his wounds closed.

“I really fucking hate this,” you said one night, stitching a knife wound to his shoulder closed as you sat behind him on your bed.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed.

“No, I mean it,” you said. “I really hate it. I really hate seeing you hurt, I really hate patching you up, I really hate that you feel like you have to do this. I really fucking hate it, Tommy, and I wish you’d stop going out there.”

You tied off the suture and got the kit cleaned up, stashing what was unused and still sterile back in your abused at home supply kit.

“Hey,” he took your hand and pulled you between his legs, looking up at you. “I’m not goin’ out there for nothing…”

“You’re going out there for ration cards,” you snapped. “Which is damn near nothing.”

“Goin’ out there for shit we can’t get here,” he said, untying your robe and unwrapping you slowly, like you were a gift. He pressed his lips to your bare stomach, kissing up your body to your breastbone. “Some of it is important shit. And I have to try to keep Joel and Tess safe. I’m not tryin’ to get hurt, I’m really not tryin’ to hurt you. I’m doing it because it’s important and it’s the only damn way I got to do something important in this fuckin’ place.”

“You’re important to me,” you said quietly, running your fingers through his hair. “Be important that way.”

“And you’re important to me,” he kissed your chest again. “But would you listen if I asked you to stop working at the clinic?”

“I’m not risking my life at the clinic.”

“You’ve got your brain to offer,” he half smiled up at you. “I’m a soldier. All I’ve got’s my body, so I’m usin’ it.” He tugged you closer. “Hopin’ you’ll let me.”

You sighed, straddling him, kissing him, your arms draped carefully over his shoulders so as to not disturb his fresh sutures.

“Really don’t encourage a lot of physical activity so soon after a medical procedure,” you said as he slid your robe to the floor and trailed his lips down your throat. “Should probably make you wait…”

“Swear to God I’ll lose my mind if you don’t let me inside you,” he growled and you laughed. He took the opportunity to pick you up and lay you down with a surprised shriek.

“And you really shouldn’t be doing that,” you said between kisses. “You’re going to rip your stitches out!”

“Worth it.”

He quickly pulled off his pants and thrust into you, making you gasp and moan. “Fuck, Sweetheart, Goddamn,” he groaned. “How do you always feel this fuckin’ good?”

You ground your hips into him and he pressed his lips to the hollow of your throat with a delicious moan, starting to work himself in and out of you. He knew just how you liked to be fucked now, knew all the places inside you to find, how to work your clit, touch your skin, suck your nipples into his mouth. He pulled you tight and close to him as his pace increased and your orgasm built and you fell apart together, gasping for breath as he lay on top of you. You lifted your head just enough to see his sutures before collapsing back down into bed.

“You got fucking lucky, Miller,” you panted. “Because I’d never fuck you again if you made me redo those stitches.”

“I’d seduce you eventually,” he said, kissing your shoulder and sliding out of you. You rolled your eyes. “Only took me 10 years the first time…”

Your relationship with Tommy had been one of the few, surprising bright spots in the last year. It was oddly easy, being with him. There wasn’t much about him that wasn’t easy. He was sweet, he was fun. It was what you’d imagined a relationship to be like in college before you’d started dating Joel. With Joel, it had been heady and intense from the beginning. You’d been head over heels for him from the start. There was no other option, it was all in or nothing and nothing didn’t feel like it was on the table.

Tommy was the opposite. But that was, in part, because you couldn’t seem to actually fall for him. Even when you tried. Even when you focused on it.

It didn’t seem to matter what he did. He took you dancing at the Speakeasy. He brought you bottles of wine from outside the QZ. He got you a small TV/VCR combo from the underground market and a copy of You’ve Got Mail on VHS. You were almost giddy with it while trying to tell him it was way too much.

“Nah, I had to,” he smiled. “Found the tape when we were outside, knew how much you loved that movie. Then I just had to make sure you could actually watch the damn thing.”

Tommy was probably a damn near perfect boyfriend. He just… wasn’t Joel.

It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen him - not even in passing - since the conversation near the clinic. Tommy always came to your place. You always dealt with him or Tess when it came to resupplying their medical stash. He had done a thorough job of making sure you never saw each other.

And it didn’t make a damn difference.

There was a second every morning Tommy spent the night where you thought you were waking up next to his brother. It was one moment - a sweet, if brief, moment - where everything felt right. It was one of your favorite moments of the day, the second there your mind tricked yourself that you were still with the person you loved most. And then came the letdown followed by the shame of it.

“What the fuck is my problem?” You asked Andrew one afternoon as you worked in your lab. “Why can’t I get the fuck over him? Tommy… he’s basically perfect, why can’t I just love him? Why do I have to want the person who doesn’t want me back? And at what point do I fucking tell Tommy ‘hey, I know you’ve basically done nothing but be the best boyfriend a girl could ask for for the past almost year but I’m still in love with your brother who, as it happens, is kind of a dick.’”

“The heart wants what the heart wants, I guess,” Andrew shrugged. “I can’t imagine loving anyone but Jess. You could drop Halle Berry in front of me, make her love all the same shit I do and I’d still want Jess. Just how it works sometimes.”

“This is such a fucking mess,” you groaned.

“He said he understood what he was getting into,” he shrugged again. “So, if I were you, I’d keep it to myself until he drops the L-word on you. Then you’ll have to come clean. But, until then, I think you’re in the clear.”

“Why am I this stupid?” You asked. “Seriously. I’m not this stupid with anything else, how was I this fucking stupid?”

“Eh, you’re pretty stupid with at least some other things,” he said. You glared at him. “You are an absolute shit partner to have in bridge. You cannot strategize for shit, you are really stupid at bridge.”

“Thank you,” you said sarcastically. “That makes me feel so much better.”

“Always happy to be of service.”

It had been a few months that you’d known, for a fact, that you couldn’t fall in love with Tommy. It didn’t matter how hard you tried, how much you wanted to, it wasn’t going to happen. You still weren’t sure what to do about it.

You thought about it more when he wasn’t around. So you were thankful, that Saturday, to have surgeries to attend to. Tommy, Joel and Tess were outside the QZ yet again. Not only were you always worried the whole time they were gone, your brain went into overdrive trying to figure out what to do about the Tommy situation. Surgery was a pleasant distraction.

It was late when you finally finished everything on the docket that day. The sun had set and you felt like you were ready to fall asleep standing up.

“Want to come over later?” Andrew asked as you leaned against the front desk. “Feel like you might need the distraction.”

“Yeah…” you sighed, looking out at the empty waiting room. “Probably a good idea…”

The bell on the front door rang and you instinctively looked. Tess ran in, eyes wide, blood dripping from her shoulder.

“Fuck,” you swore. You were running before you even really knew you were running, grabbing one of the clinic’s go bags.

“Andrew,” you said as you went for the door. “Keep an OR ready for me, do NOT shut down until I get back, understand? See if you can get someone else to stay, please…”

“I’ve got it,” he said. “Go!”

Tess led the way to the hole in the fence.

“What happened?” You asked, the two of you walking as quickly as you could without drawing the attention of anyone patrolling.

“We got pinned down, about a mile outside the QZ,” she said. “We took everyone out eventually but Tommy and Joel…”

“Tess,” your voice cracked.

“They were alive when I left,” she said.

“Fuck!”

You slipped out of the fence, past the search lights and the debris field, and you ran.

You’d never been an athlete. You liked hiking and swimming and walking and were in fine shape but you’d never been a runner. That didn’t seem to matter then.

You raced toward where Tess pointed you, her falling back. You started watching for the bodies that would be around wherever they’d stashed themselves, the telltale signs of the showdown Tess mentioned.

When you spotted it, you practically tore into the small storefront, yanking a flashlight out of your pocket. It didn’t take you long to find Joel and Tommy.

“Hey Sweetheart,” Tommy smiled a little at you. He was breathing heavily, his gun lying across his lap. Tess ran in behind you.

“Hey, you idiot,” you smiled a little back. Joel was silent on the ground. “I need to evaluate you both and figure this out, try to stay conscious for me, OK?”

“Anything for you,” he said, wincing a little.

You took off your backpack and put your flashlight in your teeth, looking Joel over first. He was unconscious but he had a pulse and was breathing. Good signs, even though his breath was shallow. There was a penetrating chest wound and a compound fracture just above his left knee.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck did you guys get up to?” You asked, pulling out your stethoscope. “Do you know how fucking hard it is to break your femur?”

“Had to jump off a roof,” Tommy winced. “Think I just sprained an ankle, Joel landed wrong…”

“Wrong is a fucking understatement,” you muttered, checking his heart rate and his breathing. “Think he’s stable for the moment…”

You moved to Tommy.

“Why do I feel like we’re gonna be in a fight after this?” He asked.

“Because we are,” you said. “Show me what’s wrong.”

“Got shot,” he angled his leg with a groan so you could see the wound. It was to the thigh but had missed the major arteries, so not terrible. “Sprained the ankle…”

“Tess,” you said. “I’m going to need…”

There was a sudden gasping sound from behind you and you spun. Joel was still unconscious but he was struggling to breathe.

“Doc!” Tess ran to him.

“Move!” You ordered, rushing over and thrusting the stethoscope into your ears. You pressed it to his chest and listened. “Fucking hell…”

You yanked your bag to your side and started ripping through it.

“What?” Tess sounded panicked. “What is it?”

“He had a fucking pneumothorax that I missed and it just changed to a tension pneumothorax,” you said, thrusting the flashlight to Tess. She took it, shining the light down at the bag. You found a scalpel and some tubing.

“What’s that?” She asked. “What does that mean?”

“It means there’s air in his chest that’s trapped and making it so his lung can’t inflate and I need to get it out or he’s going to fucking die,” you snapped, ripping his shirt open, sending buttons flying and pointing to a spot on his rib cage. You cut off a short length of tube. “Light here.”

She obeyed and you made the cut, thrusting the tubing in to hold the incision open so the air could escape. He took a deep, shuddering breath and you relaxed.

“Thank fuck for that,” you sighed, really looking at his face for the first time.

You had to fight the urge to touch him. He was still so fucking beautiful it made your heart ache. Seeing him again was like getting hit by the train. All this time, you’d thought you’d just been holding steady, that you just kept loving him the same way you always had.

You hadn’t. It had become a dull roar. It hung on the edges of everything but you could forget about it sometimes, when he wasn’t there to remind you. But the second you saw him, it was all consuming. You felt it in your skin, your chest, your marrow. Loving him was built into you like any other vital thing, there was no excising it. You could quiet it, avoid it but it would never cease to exist. Not for you.

“Tess,” you said after a second. “Hold pressure on the lower chest wound, leave the one I just made the fuck alone.”

You went to Tommy and started looking at his gunshot wound.

“How are you feeling?” You asked. “Lightheaded?”

“Nothin’ I can’t handle, Sweetheart,” he smiled a little. “Just having a hard time walking is all…”

“Yeah, that’s going to be the sticking point here,” you glanced to Tess.

“What?” She asked.

“You and I are going to have to do some heavy lifting,” you said.

“I can do that,” she nodded. “I can do that.”

You grabbed some gauze and a brace from your bag, wrapping Tommy’s gunshot wound and giving him some ankle support before you looked him in the eye.

“Alright Miller,” you said. “Time to boot and rally, you were in the army, you can do this. You’re going to go with Tess to the fence and head for the clinic. Andrew is waiting for you guys.”

“What about you?” He asked.

“I’m going to wake up Joel and I’m taking him to the main gate,” you said, getting to your feet and offering Tommy your hand.

“That’s a fucking death sentence, you can’t go to the main gate!” Tess gaped up at you.

“We can’t get him through the fence,” you said. “There’s no way in hell, not with a compound fracture, an open chest wound and a pneumo. Main gate might be a death sentence for you but I can get us in. It’ll be tricky but I can get us in.”

“That’s too big a risk,” Tommy said, taking your hand. You pulled him to his feet and slung his arm over your shoulder. “You can’t…”

“I can’t just leave him out here,” you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “I need to get him to the clinic before shit gets worse and that’s the only way…”

He cupped your face, looking in your eyes and you knew he saw it. What you felt. Why you couldn’t leave Joel behind. Not now, not ever.

“It’s gonna get you killed, Sweetheart,” he said softly.

“Don’t have a choice,” you smiled sadly. He pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Tess?” You said, still looking at Tommy. She came alongside you and you held up his arm. She stepped into place. “Straight to the clinic, OK?”

“You sure you’ve got Joel from here?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Get yourselves out of here, we’ll be right behind. The clinic. Andrew’s staying there, he’ll help you.”

She nodded and they left you there with Joel on the ground.

You ran to his side, checking his breathing. Still solid.

“Well at least there’s that,” you muttered to yourself. You quickly bandaged the wound at his chest. Looking closer, you were pretty sure it was a stab wound and not a bullet hole. You tried to keep it so it wouldn’t be jostled and have him start bleeding out. You moved onto the leg.

You were going to need to at least partially set it, there’s no way you could carry him and he couldn’t put any weight on it the way it was now. It was just going to hurt like a bitch. Which is part of why you’d sent Tess and Tommy along. This part was not going to be pretty and there was a good chance he was going to scream loud enough to attract every clicker and raider in a five mile radius.

“OK Miller,” you grabbed the length of tubing you hadn’t used to open his chest and put it between his teeth, making him bite down on it. “You can do this, you can get through this you stubborn asshole, you’re going to be fine, hear me? I will never forgive you if you’re not fine so you’re going to be fucking fine…”

You grabbed the stuff to make a splint from your bag and set it up around his injured leg before you put one knee on his hip, hoping to help hold him still.

“Here we go,” you took a deep breath. “One, two, three…”

You winced as you started pushing his bone back into alignment. He gasped and flung his hand out, catching you in the side.

“It’s me!” You said quickly, pushing the bone back into place. He groaned, the sound choking and gasping. “Bite down on the tube, I’m setting your leg enough that you can put weight on it, I know it hurts, I’m almost done just stick with me…”

The bone disappeared below the skin and you stopped pushing. Joel went slack, panting for breath. You grabbed gauze and quickly bound the point where the break had come through the skin before setting the splint.

“You still with me over there, Miller?” You asked, not able bring yourself to look over at him, afraid of what you might see.

“Still here,” he was panting for breath.

“Good,” you said, sitting back on your heels for a moment, out of breath yourself. You looked over at him.

He was watching you, a soft look on his face. Your heart swelled with it.

“Hey Kid,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” you half smiled at him.

“Tess and Tommy?” He asked.

“Headed for the QZ,” you said. “Sent them on ahead because they’re taking a different route in than us.”

“What route are we taking?” He frowned.

“Main gate,” you said, starting to pack up your supplies.

“No,” he shook his head. “No, we can’t…”

“You can’t without me,” you cut him off. “But I can. And you can’t get under the fence right now, Joel, not with your leg like that coupled with the fact that you’ve got a penetrating chest wound and I had to give you an incision to relieve a tension pneumothorax.”

“Then you’re leavin’ me out here,” he started trying to prop himself up on his elbows and you went to help him. “Not riskin’ you bringing me in through the main gate…”

“Shut the fuck up, Miller,” you said, helping him sit up all the way. He glared at you.

“Always knew there was a risk of not comin’ back, Kid,” he said. His eyes kept ranging over your face.

“You don’t get to just die on me out here,” you snapped. “We’re not doing that, got it? I didn’t come all the way out here to save your ass just to have you die on me so we’re going to the main fucking gate.”

You stood up and put on the pack before offering him your hand. He glared at you.

“I swear to God Joel if you don’t I will go to the main gate myself and make them come get you in a patrol truck,” you snapped. “Guessing this is a smuggling hide out for you, I will bring them here, I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re the most stubborn damn woman I’ve ever met,” he muttered, taking your hand.

“Put as much weight as you can on the good leg,” you ordered. He glared at you. “What, you’re saying dumb shit like I should just leave you out here to die so I have to state the obvious. Ready?” He nodded once. “Alright, one, two, three.”

You pulled and he hissed in pain as you helped him up. He almost collapsed and you caught him with your shoulder tucked into his armpit.

“See?” You said as he panted for breath. “We’ve got this.”

It didn’t take long for you and Joel to fall into a rhythm that kept his pain from getting worse as you walked. It was slow going but you made steady progress.

“Why’d you do this?” He managed after you’d walked half a mile.

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“Come out here,” he said. His breaths came in short, gasping pants. “Save me. Why?”

You were quiet for a moment.

“You know why,” you said eventually.

He ground his teeth.

“We’re not good for each other,” he said.

“I know.”

“Told you I didn’t want to see you.”

“Trust me, I remember.”

“You’re with Tommy.”

“I know.”

He growled. The searchlights of the QZ perimeter were getting close.

“When we get up there, let me do the talking,” you said. “Keep your mouth fucking shut. I’m going to get us through this in one piece but you have to do what I say for a change, got it?”

He just grunted in affirmation.

The guards spotted you quickly. It wasn’t like you were trying to hide.

“Hands up!” Their guns were drawn. You raised the hand you could. “I fucking said hands up!”

“Can’t put them all up, I have an injured man with me,” you called back. “I’m a doctor at the clinic, I got word of an injured person outside the fence, I’m bringing him in for treatment…”

The voice shifted.

“Doc? That you?”

You squinted against the searchlight as the guard came closer. You smiled a little.

“Hi Tim,” you said. You’d known there was a good chance one of your former students would be at the gate. It was just luck that it was one who remembered you fondly. He lowered his gun.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked, coming over and taking Joel’s other side. Joel just gaped at you.

“Helping the injured,” you jerked your head in Joel’s direction. “That whole hippocratic oath thing, I couldn’t just ignore it once I knew about it. I was hoping you could let us in here.”

“Doc, you left the QZ…” he said quietly.

“I know,” you said. “And I don’t want to compromise you or your job in any way. But I had to do my job, too. If you need to write me up or take me into custody you can, but I need to get this man to the clinic first…”

He looked Joel over.

“You’ll make sure he does intake?” He asked.

“Of course,” you replied. He pulled out a scanner and took a sample from each of you. The screen glowed green. His jaw twitched.

“Alright,” he said. “But we have to move quick and you never saw me, OK?”

“Thank you,” you said, moving as quickly as Joel would allow. Your heart was in your throat until you were through the gate.

“Get to the clinic by curfew,” Tim said. “You’ve only got 20 minutes.”

***

Joel wasn’t sure what hurt more, his leg, his chest or seeing you.

He’d managed to avoid you for a year. A whole year of not seeing your face, the longest he’d gone since he’d come to the QZ. He hated every goddamn second of it.

It was the right thing to do, though, trying to let you go. He kept fucking failing you and he’d keep fucking failing you the more he was around you. And being around you hurt.

He wasn’t sure it would be better or worse if you were his. Everything he’d lost was all tied up in you. The life he’d been inches away from having wound around your limbs and lips and hair. He didn’t think he could just be next to you and know that. But fuck, not seeing you…

One of the hardest things he’d ever had to do was say goodbye to you that day on the street. But he couldn’t keep drowning you in his misery. As much as he’d hated Tommy for touching you, for picking you, he couldn’t hate him for pointing out the obvious. He’d been cruel to you. As much as he was angry, hurting, wanting to hate you, you didn’t deserve that. You deserved better than what he could give you. You were too much for him to take and he couldn’t seem to stop hurting you. It had to end.

But he was relieved that he could gauge how you were doing by Tommy’s mood. He didn’t like much else about the fact that you were with him but when Tommy came home from seeing you in a good mood, he knew you were happy. If he were a little off, he knew you probably had a bad day at work. If he were irritable it meant you were upset about something. He didn’t dare ask what but he knew it was something.

It was strange, knowing you existed in the world but not knowing much of anything about it. He clung to what he did know. Wished he didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to see you. Wished he didn’t want to look at you.

But now you were close - so fucking close - and it hurt. Andrew helped you get him onto an exam table and he could barely hear what you were saying, giving him some kind of pill and making him breathe in some shit that made his head swim as you made him lie down.

“Don’t want you workin’ on me,” he managed. You frowned.

“Well I’m the only option you have, Miller, so suck it up,” you said, not looking up from your work at his side.

“Don’t want to want to look at you,” he muttered.

“Then don’t look at me,” you said, stitching up his side.

“Can’t help it,” he mumbled. “Too fuckin’ pretty…”

“Sounds like a personal problem, Miller,” you said. “Stop talking so much, you’re making it hard to sew.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Just missed you.”

You looked at him for a moment.

“Missed you too.”

You went back to sewing. He just watched you work, soaking up what he could of you. He didn’t know when he’d see you again. He wanted to hold onto this.

He fell asleep watching you heal him.

***

By the time you finished with Joel, you were exhausted. You were going to have to just sleep in an exam room, it was past curfew and you wouldn’t want to be far, anyway. But, for that moment, you just wanted to slump against the wall in the hall, not able to make yourself move any further.

You slid to the floor, leaning your head back against the wall and taking a deep breath. Your legs and arms ached. You were pretty sure your abs would, too, in the morning after you hauled Joel all that way.

Tess came out of an exam room and looked surprised to find you on the floor before siting next to you.

“How is he?” She asked.

“He’ll be fine,” you sighed. “Won’t be able to make any runs for at least two months while his femur heals, though.”

She nodded slowly.

“Can I ask you something?” She asked after a moment.

“As long as it’s nothing philosophical,” you replied. “Brain is fried. Ask me how to do surgery, that I can do with my eyes closed.”

“What are you doing with them?” She asked, watching you. You frowned. “You’ve got Tommy wrapped around your finger. You’ll put your life on the line to save Joel. What are you doing with them?”

“Nothing that I really have a say in,” you looked at her, too tired to try to dodge the question. “If I could stop… feeling the way I do, I would. I hate it, I hate what it’s done to me, what it’s done to him, what it’s doing to Tommy and I just… I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I want it to be over.

“I keep thinking that loving people, that’s the reason we’re here. That’s what we’re supposed to do with life, we’re supposed to love people as much as we can for as long as we can but that doesn’t work anymore, does it? Maybe it did before all this happened. Maybe it didn’t and I was just too naive to know it but that’s what it felt like we were supposed to do. But I can’t keep loving him and I can’t just let this keep going with Tommy and I just….” Your voice cracked. You were too tired to try to fight off tears.

Tess tugged you over so your head was on her shoulder. You blinked in surprise.

“I was married before,” she said. “I told you that. I didn’t tell you that I had to shoot him, in the outbreak.”

“Jesus…” you breathed.

“Even knowing how it was going to end, I’m glad I had it while I did,” she said. “But I’m still too afraid to ever love someone like that again. Love like that wrecks you, utterly destroys you. It’s why I make the choices I make now. And yeah, it’s safer but my God is life sweeter when you have it.

“Joel’s broken like that, too,” she said. “Part of why we get along. I’m not sure he’ll ever get his shit together. It’s too big a risk for him. But I think you still can figure it out. It hasn’t broken you yet. You still wear ribbons in your hair. You’re not broken yet.”

You stared at the wall for a moment.

“I need to talk to Tommy,” you said eventually.

“I’m really sorry, Doc,” she said quietly.

“Me too.”

You made yourself stop crying before you knocked on Tommy’s door and opened it quietly, half hoping he would be asleep when you went inside.

No such luck.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he half smiled at you.

“Hey,” you half smiled back. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better,” he shrugged. “Been worse.”

You nodded.

“The nurse - Kristen, I think? - said Joel was fine,” he said. You nodded again.

He just looked at you for a moment, like he was memorizing you.

“I never had a shot, did I?” He asked.

You smiled tightly.

“I told you I wasn’t sure I could ever love anyone else,” you said softly.

“You did,” he nodded. “Just hoped I’d convince you.”

“You and me both.”

He smiled at that and held out his hand for you. You took it, letting him tug you to him.

“You’ve been the most fun I’ve had since the end of the world,” he said. “Glad we got to figure it out.”

“Me too,” you sniffed, trying not to cry.

He smiled and kissed your forehead.

“Go sleep,” he said. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Yeah, I think I am,” you laughed. “Your brother is fucking heavy, I’m never hauling him anywhere again…”

He laughed at that, too. You looked at him.

“I really tried,” you said quietly. “But…”

“I know,” he said. “Now get out of here before I do something stupid.”

You nodded and went for the door.

“Hey,” he said.

You stopped and turned back to him.

“Here’s looking at you, Kid.”

You smiled, shook your head a little, and left him behind.

A/N: Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as things ramp up as we build into the core story of TLOU. Tommy will still be around for a bit but boyfriend Tommy is over. So sorry for all the Tommy Stans! This was always the plan, though. He was here to help Joel figure his shit out and give Doc a way out of her single-mindedness when it comes to Joel.

I do have a tag list, please let me know if you'd like to be added, just comment below! If you've asked and haven't made it on, please ask again. I'm trying to get everyone added but I think people may have slipped through the cracks because I have no organizational system for this.

Thank you so much for reading and commenting and letting me know how the story makes you feel! It's a joy to write for you all, thank you for hanging out with my characters :)

Taglist: @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel @ginger-swag-rapunzel @drewharrisonwriter @flugazi @pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji @starstruckmusiciansartghost @splendsay @bigboiseason123 @jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10 @sloanexx @ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #fanfic

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year

Text

Pillow Fort: Roy Kent x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @anyamcdonald @taytaylala12 @daydreamgoddess @amieinghigh @littleesilvia @blackleatherjacketz @xphantomphanphanaticx @its-a-show-stoppin-number @st4rgirliesstuff @secretsquirrelinc @meg-ro @xoxabs88xox @midnightmagpiemama

Companion Piece to:

A Perfect Night - Roy spends a completely perfect night with you.

Distance - Roy gets into trouble while you’re away.

Pictures of You - There are repercussions to Roy’s actions

Roy leaves training early but even then, he knows it’s too late. He sees the read messages that you’ve not responded too. He knows you took an earlier flight because you were eager to get back home to him and he knows you’ve walked into a shit storm.

When he steps into the bedroom, he sees you sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands pressed between your knees. He can tell you’ve been crying; your eyes are red rimmed and your mascara’s streaked just underneath your lashes. He fucking hates it. He senses your shame, and he wants to tell you that it isn’t deserved. You did nothing wrong, you sent intimate pictures to someone you trusted, and they’ve been used against you.

He sits down on the bed alongside of you, his hand coming to rest upon you knee, his thumb smoothing over the hollow before he sighs and wraps his arm around your shoulders. His lips brush over your hairline before he whispers.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.”

There’s silence for a moment before you open your mouth to speak.

“My brother was the first one to message me, a couple of the guys he worked with showed him the pictures. They didn’t realise I was his sister.” You close your eyes before you bury your face into the confines of his chest, fighting back the urge to scream. “Everybody’s fucking seen it, my family, my friends, the people I work with…”

You trail off as you pull away, wiping at your eyes once more with the back of your hand.

“Everything I’ve built, the reputation I’ve created, it’s all fucking ruined because now the only thing anyone will ever see when they Google me is that fucking picture.” You shake your head. “I knew he was a vindictive prick, but I never imagined that he would do something like this.”

Roy tips your chin up gently. He wants you to see the truth in his eyes when he speaks, he wants you to know that he means what he’s about to say.

“You are an excellent investigator and a brilliant storyteller. If they can’t see past that picture then every single one of them can go fuck themselves, they don’t deserve you.”

His thumb brushes away the tears on your cheeks as his forehead comes to rest upon yours.

“Also, he should he fucking terrified, I’ve listened to your podcast. I have no doubt you could commit a murder and get away with it, it’s why I make a point of trying not to piss you off.”

That gets a smile. He sees the edges of your mouth turn up and he knows that the mood is shifting, that there’s a little less weight for you to carry.

“I still feel like I want to hide out under the covers.” You tell him.

“Well, that can be arranged. I can make the two of us a fort.” He tells you, leaning back and grasping a couple of the pillows before propping them up underneath the quilt so that they create a tent. “It’ll be like shit glamping.”

As you turn your head one of the pillows falls down, dismantling the whole thing. Despite the fact it has been such a shitty day you find yourself laughing. It’s a beautiful sound, one that Roy’s missed over the past few weeks you’ve been away. He sees the tension drain out of your body as you look up at him with those stunning eyes of yours.

“I love you” You tell him, your hand coming to rest upon his cheek. “You always know how to make me smile.”

The way you say it is so fucking earnest that it makes his chest ache.

“When you love someone, you want to see them happy.” He says as his lips brush over yours. “And I want to see you happy all the fucking time.”

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#roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #ted lasso

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badaziraphaletakes · 4 months

Text

In which some poor innocent unsuspecting reader submitted an ask and I respond by throwing an entire textbook at them

Like seriously i won’t even be upset if no one reads this PhD dissertation, like actually what is wrong with me omg

The ask:

I want to start by saying I love this account and really appreciate the rebuttals I see here to some of the messed up stuff the fandom’s spit out over the past few years. That being said, the most recent post about “the creepiest take you’ve ever seen,” was one I disagreed with strongly. It’s entirely normal to enjoy watching media where characters have breakdowns. It is not a desire to see a person breakdown. It is a desire to watch a good story.

(Edit: Just realized I somehow omitted to include the full text of the ask here. I apologize for the error! Will fix it soon. -Mod X)

My response:

Hi and thank you for your kind words! (Also idk why there is this huge gap in the text here, sorry haha!) If it were a necessary part of the story, or a part of the story that made sense, I would agree. But it’s not necessary (esp not at this point in the story) and therefore wouldn’t be “good”, if we are defining good art as being emotional truthful, which I imagine is a pretty uncontroversial definition.

Side note: We already saw him have this exact shattering breakdown in Uz. So that renders most of what I am about to say (and arguably some of what you have said) somewhat moot. But I’m going to continue anyway because some of the points brought up here touch on issues that I think bear re-visiting often.

It’s cathartic, it’s engaging, and it helps people who’ve been through the same thing see themselves reflected. For example, I like watching someone on tv hit rock bottom with their addiction because I’ve been through that, and seeing them finally realize they have to work on recovery and actually do it is motivating and empowering.

I’m so sorry you’ve been through that. I haven’t (although I am estranged from an entire side of my family due to alcoholism and meth addiction, which is a whole fun thing), so I can’t comment on this too much.

But addiction is not the same as an ab*sive relationship. (I do have knowledge of those, both from life experience and from my previous job in ab*se research. I edited a newsletter about family violence research for several years.) Seeing a person suffering from addiction realize they want to work on recovery, and realize that the substance they are addicted to is messing up their life, can make sense. Especially if they're in a place where they're able to work on it and have the opportunity to try to change.

But seeing an ab*se survivor “realize they need to get away from their ab*ser because they’re evil and have a breakdown about it” doesn’t make sense, because being trapped in an absive situation is not about “motivation” or what they think about the abser or even, really, about "empowerment". (Side note that word is thrown a lot to delude women into thinking our capitalist system is working for us rather than oppressing us. But I digress.) It boils down to the fact that they are in danger if they leave. The situation is not within their control.

(This next part is not directed at you, but at the general readership, in case this is helpful discussion for anyone: A lot of addictions aren’t within people's control at all either. It depends very much on the drug we’re talking about, the health of the individual, the quantity and duration of the addiction, whether the person has access to the healthcare they need to be cured, and whether there’s a way for them to get free from the broader societal dysfunctions that led to them being trapped in this situation in the first place.)

Also, with addiction, people can absolutely get past that without losing their sense of self and their identity. If they go through that kind of crisis in the process of healing from addiction, I would argue that something is very wrong. (Not with them, but with the society around them). In a best-case scenario, a person suffering from addiction would have access to the kind of mental and physical healthcare and support system that lets you get free from that without a shattering breakdown or loss of sense of self.

Besides, not everyone who has an addiction has toxic beliefs about themselves or their own identity or other people, etc etc. (Babies who are born addicted come to mind, if we want to talk about the most extreme example.) So I find the idea that addiction is down to toxic beliefs about one's self very suspect. I would argue that 95% of the time, addiction happens because your life sucks. The mental health community is starting to have this conversation about depression and anxiety - Cognitive Behavioral Therapy to work on one's "limiting beliefs" and "destructive thought patterns" can only do so much to help you feel better when your whole life is shit anyway. And it can actually make it WORSE if the victim is made to believe that their depression is the fault of their "Faulty thoughts" rather than a reasonable reaction to a shitty situation. Not necessarily saying we should throw CBT out the window altogether, but I am saying that mental healthcare will be a LOT more effective when it learns to truly take the broader societal context into account. I suspect, I hope, we'll soon be having a simialr conversation around addiction.)

And that’s doubly the case for ab*se survivors. They’re not stuck in that situation because there’s something wrong with them that they need to fix. They’re stuck in that situation because there’s something wrong with the ab*ser.

Regardless of the victim’s personal worth as an individual, regardless of whether they’re a good person or what-have-you, they don’t deserve to be ab*sed.

(I'm just waiting to hear about how some therapist tells a victim to work on their "limiting belief" that they need to stay with their ab*ser in order not to be killed, and/or tells them that fearing their ab*ser will kill them is a "cognitive distortion", and tells them to stand up to their ab*ser and/or leave, and then the ab*ser kills them. But I digress.)

And the loss of self when separating from a toxic system that’s defined your whole life is a real thing some people go through. It’s not bad consider that Aziraphale could also go through that, or to want to see that experience reflected.

I want to be very clear that I don’t have the smallest objection to people wanting to see that in a show. But a. that’s not what the person was saying, and b. they were also saying it’s necessary. IT’S NOT. I can’t emphasize this enough.

Loss of self is the worst-case scenario for how something like that goes. Nothing good comes from that. That is a side effect of ab*se (because the ab*ser’s the one who says that “Everything you are is bound up in me and you’re nothing with me"), not an integral part of the process of getting away.

Trauma is not necessary for character growth.

The way these things should go is that the person is able to gradually and mindfully work through the beliefs that are poisoning them with the help of a therapist, trusted friends, etc.

I know what I’m talking about. I worked in trauma research for over seven years. Please trust me on this one.

And again, Aziraphale can’t “separate” from them anyway. There’s nowhere he can go where they won’t find him. So his beliefs are irrelevant to his situation. And if the show implies that his beliefs “need to change” as part of the earth being set free from heaven-hell’s tyranny, or that he “needs to change” in order to be free, I will be writing a strongly-worded letter to the creators.

But more importantly, *they didn’t just say giddy.* They also said apprehensive. Perhaps they’re apprehensive because they know it could be painful to watch. Or because they don’t want to see it handled poorly.

“Giddily apprehensive” sounds an awful lot like “excited” to me. I admit it is ambiguous, though, so I’ll give you that one. I maintain that the OP expressed themselves with an exceptional lack of grace, however. And fwiw, they’d be FAR from the first person to want to see Aziraphale suffer because they are mad at him. I think I have good reason to believe that's what they're getting at here, given how many people in the poster's orbit say the same kinds of things and how many other things I've seen the OP say that are along those lines. I acknowledge I should have made that clearer in my original post.

They aren’t giving this advice (if one could call it that) to a human. They’re saying they’re excited to see a character breakdown. Character arcs like that are common and enticing for good reason.

I have yet to see a reason why I should believe that the things people say about Aziraphale are different than the things they say about people in real life.

I would point you to a couple lines down where you say yourself that we respond to characters the same way we respond to real people.

Personal growth ≠ character growth.

But what makes a good character is that they act like real people.

As an audience, character growth (even negative) is engaging.

Yes, absolutely. But we can absolutely do character growth in a way that does not spread harmful mindsets or misinformation about what ab*se and recovery from ab*se looks like. In fact, I would argue that character growth can’t happen if the writer doesn’t write the characters to behave in a way that is realistic to real life.

Characters follow the same rules, though. We respond to characters the same way we respond to real people. The same general rules of personal development and so forth apply.

The idea that “Aziraphale realizes his ab*sers are terrible” is something he needs to do for his “personal development” is highly objectionable. He doesn’t need to grow in this area. He just needs his ab*sers to leave him alone. Side note: We should give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he already does think they’re terrible and only stays with them because he is terrified. Even if this hadn’t been strongly and frequently hinted at in every episode going all the way back to S1E1 - almost every scene, in fact - we should still give him the benefit of the doubt.

Also, even if we say, for the sake of argument, that Aziraphale was a terrible, awful, horrible person - I know you’re not saying that, to be clear - even then, he still wouldn’t “need to realize his ab*sers are terrible” or “have a complete breakdown” or “lose himself” in order to grow. That's not how growth works. The best growth happens when people are at peace and safe and loved. Not frightened and confused and alone. He never chose them in the first place, he never wanted to be on their side. If he were left alone, he would just spend the rest of eternity reading his books and eating Eccles cakes and snuggling with his former-demon. That’s who he really is. There’s nothing about him as a person that needs to change. I agree a story where a person loses their sense of self after escaping from an ab*sive system would be interesting to watch, but I maintain that it does not make sense for the context of this particular story. And, such a story would NEED to make clear that the person wasn’t bad or wrong for deriving some part of their sense of self from the ab*ser and that they shouldn’t have had to have a catastrophic breakdown in order to develop their own sense of self. No one should have to go through that.

It’s not the same thing as asking for personal growth from a real human being.

Good characters do not operate according to different emotional and psychological rules than we do, though. If they didn't, we wouldn’t have millions of people sobbing about how real Aziraphale and Crowley feel to them. We would be the biggest dodos in the world if we were reacting this way to paper dolls 😄

Comparing the desire to see a character go through a dramatic storyline like that (and to come out of it strong and shining) to fundamentalist rhetoric is… just total bullshit.

You said this blog has been a good place for you and I want it to continue to be that way for you. So I want to give you a chance to revisit this part and see if you can say something more constructive. Because I've gotta admit, this really made me upset and I can't let it go without saying something. It’s not cool to call someone’s commentary “bullsh*t” like this.

I heard the line “we must die to ourselves” many, many times from the high-control religion of my childhood. It is a classic cult line. Hence why so many cults have "burial and rebirth" rituals, make people change their names, etc.

I am not just making up a comparison. This is a real phenomenon. Controlling ab*sers are the ones who’ve given us this idea that “death of the self” is character growth. It’s not. Character growth happens in spite of those excruciating emotional crises, not because of them.

Growing as a person is supposed to feel good overall. Not always easy, but on the whole, it should be a positive experience.

Also - Again, they said he “needs” to do it.

And they didn’t say anything about Aziraphale “coming out strong and shining”. You added that in. I think it's wonderful that you want to see that for him (so do I) but that’s not what this person was saying

If they'd said that, I wouldn't object to it at all. But they didn't. That part was left out. Which I think may be very telling in itself.

There are a myriad of reasons someone could have that desire, including having gone through something similar themselves.

Having gone through something similar doesn’t necessarily mean it makes sense for another character. It also doesn’t mean it’s necessary. And having been through something that went a certain way does NOT mean that it happening that way makes sense for someone else.

Deconstruction from a religious upbringing is different from leaving an ab*sive relationship

Aziraphale doesn’t have religious trauma. (I’m not going to talk much about religious trauma and deconstruction here, because it’s outside the scope of this blog, largely because - as attested by no less an authority than Neil Himself - Good Omens is not about religion. But I’ll say a little bit.)

Heaven and hell are not a “religion” in his world - they’re real. His fear of hell (and of heaven) is absolutely, one hundred percent, completely legitimate and appropriate, and NOT something he should be “reasoned” out of. Saying otherwise gives “your ab*ser isn’t actually that evil and scary”. But regardless, in either scenario, that kind of traumatic personal crisis is not a necessary part of the healing process. My heart aches for all the people whose deconstruction process was emotionally shattering. But what makes it ache even more is how for so many of them, the takeaway is somehow that that kind of crisis is necessary - rather than "dear god, i hope no one else ever has to go through that kind of hideous experience to get away from their shitty religion", which surely is what the takeaway should be (assuming there even is a lesson to be learned at all from an experience like that, which is doubtful) - and they go on to demand it of other survivors and gatekeep against people who haven't gone through the exact same thing they did in the process of getting away.

How, HOW did we get to a point where so many people’s deconstruction is a fucked-up, scarring experience that we think it’s inevitable for deconstruction to be that way????? I grieve.

I know the idea of killing one’s old self is inherently wrong to many people.

It’s not about whether it’s *wrong*. If that's valid for someone and they get where they need to be - you do you. It’s about the fact that it’s painful and it’s unnecessary to the process of growth.

Furthermore, it is the kind of thing ab*sers WANT to see happen to their victims when they leave. They want victims to think that they have to have that kind of crisis if they want to leave them. Because then they’re less likely to leave. When we encourage that kind of thinking, we are playing directly into their hands.

What should happen is that the victim should be given the opportunity to realize that all along there was much more to them than their ab*ser.

I don’t personally desire to watch Aziraphale do that, especially because there are so many wonderful aspects of the Angel he’s been since the beginning

Agreed.

But fwiw, this is giving a faint whiff of perfect victim syndrome. Even if he were an asshole, he still deserves to just have his ab*sers leave him alone, not to have some kind of shattering, soul-crushing emotional breakdown. They will always, always be worse than him.

but it’s not wrong to want to see that. People do go through it, and their stories are incredibly compelling.

I don’t disagree. For me it’s rather about the place this is coming from. OP was saying it’s necessary. There’s a difference between wanting to see a show address this issue overall because it’s interesting, and demanding that a specific character go through it because you think it’s necessary, or that their process of leaving and healing won't be legitimate (or whatever word we wanna use) if it doesn't happen.

And, as you said, it doesn’t make sense for Aziraphale. If the character is an asshole, I’d be able to see it a little more (although again, I still very much question the entire idea in the first place) But he's not an asshole. I find anyone’s thinking it “makes sense” for him to be highly questionable.

I know Aziraphale is much more than a character to many people

Speaking as a (very, very, very slightly, lol) professional writer and actor - every character should be “more than a character”, if they’re well-written. They should feel real if the writer and/or actor has done their job well. I like NG's line that "If you write someone who is utterly and completely themselves, you get people coming up to you and going 'Oh my God, you wrote my life!'

a desire to watch him go through a psychological breakdown is not some poorly concealed desire to watch real people go through that.

It may or may not be. I agree that it isn't always.

In this person’s case, though, I very much did get concerning vibes. Poorly concealed. (As an ab*se survivor, you start to know the vibe of victim-blamers after awhile.)

Regardless, though, the way we respond to characters is the way we respond to people in real life. Story is a primary vehicle through which people learn how to interact with one another and their environment. If it wasn’t, discussing media along these lines would be pointless, and I'd just spend all my time talking about how good David Tennant looks in those tight pants 😁 Or, probably, I would take up a different hobby altogether.

I wouldn’t have wasted my time starting this blog if the things people say about this story and especially about Aziraphale didn’t have real-world applications (not to mention making a lot of ab*se survivors feel very unsafe in the fandom - before we turned off anonymous asks, I got an average of two messages a day from ab*se survivors and other oppressed people telling them how this blog has made them feel so much safer in the fandom) - and if their views about the characters didn’t mirror the kinds of things they’d say about people in real life. (All the anti-Aziraphale autiphobic takes come to mind.) I flatter myself I have enough judgment that those takes wouldn't have troubled me so deeply if they weren't reflective of real-world societal problems and indicative of problematic attitudes in the people who write them.

In this case, the wording is identical to the kinds of problematic things people say about real-life victims/survivors. Yes, the person may not actually consciously want (or want at all) to see real-life ab*se victims/survivors suffer. But I absolutely, one hundred per cent guarantee you that anyone saying this has some major problematic biases/assumptions that are contributing to how ab*se survivors are maligned, degraded, and oppressed in our society. (I never want to see Disabled people suffer, but if I say ableist things, I’m contributing to it whether I mean to or not. I may not want to see women suffer, I am a woman, well more or less anyway lol, and I've identified as a feminist my entire adult life, but nevertheless there have certainly been times in the past when I've said sexist things. It's something all of us will always have to be vigilant against in ourselves. I suspect at this point I'm preaching to the choir, because you do not strike me at all as a bigoted or ignorant person, but I figured I'd re-iterate all that again anyway, because screaming it through a megaphone as often as possible is what this blog is for lol. :)

And what’s worse, they are spreading that rhetoric. I’ll be damned if I’ll let it go by without saying something.

Hope this makes sense and cleared some things up.

With love and respect,

Mod X.

#good omens #goodomens #aziraphale #good omens 2 #badaziraphaletakes #goodomens2 #ineffable husbands #cw: abuse #cw: trauma #cw: religious trauma

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futfemfantasies · 2 years

Text

TV \\ leah williamson x León!reader

Request: “...can you do a leah w x reader imagine inspired by tv by billie eilish?”

I am uneducated on Billie’s songs so I hope I do it justice anon 😬 and i’m jumbling the lyrics up a little, sorry 😬 I hope you enjoy!

Song lyrics are bold with italics.

Mapi is your older sister! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't wanna talk right now I just wanna watch TV I put on Survivor just to watch somebody suffer

“No Leah, I don’t want to talk to you right now” You say as you walk into your locker room at the Barca training grounds.

“Please Y/N, let me explain” Leah pleads with you.

“Leah there’s nothing for you to explain. You were caught kissing her on multiple occasions. The photos explain themselves”

“Baby please, let me explain” You roll your eyes at the lame apology.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed her. We’re over Leah. I can’t believe I was going to propose when I saw you next. Goodbye”

Before Leah got the chance to respond, you ended the call. You threw your phone harshly against the ground. Luckily no one else was there. You put your bag away and took your boots outside to get some extra practice in. Ball after ball went in either the top left or right corner and your teammates watched on the sidelines. After the 10th ball went in, you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turn around to see your older sister Mapi.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“I’m fine” You grumble back to Mapi.

“Hey Y/N! Why is Leah calling me asking to speak to you? Also is this yours?” Lucy asks confused as she walks over to you holding a smashed up phone.

“Ask her why” You say as you take your phone before walking to get some water.

Your teammates are now officially worried. You aren’t your usual fun, bubbly self during practice. Instead you’re taking everything so serious and haven’t even cracked a smile once. When training finishes, you’re the first one in the locker room and the first out. You get in your car and text the team group chat saying you feel sick so you might not be there for a few days. After getting into your apartment, you grab a bottle of wine and head up to your room where you turn your phone off and watch Survivor. It might be comforting to watch someone else go through pain when I am, you think.

Maybe I should get some sleep What's the point of anything?

After nearly a whole bottle of wine and 5 episodes of survivor, you decide to call it a night. You turn on your phone again and you see mainly missed calls from Leah, Mapi, Alexia and Ingrid. You reply a ‘im fine, stop worrying’ to Mapi before turning it off again and going to sleep until whenever. For at least an hour, you were rolling around so much that you built up a sweat. You turn on your phone and see it’s just after 4am. Using the phone flashlight, you walk downstairs and get a glass of water. You read Mapi’s reply first.

Maps 👯‍♀️: i’m never going to stop worrying, you know that. To Maps 👯‍♀️: maybe you should. i’m not a little kid anymore

You put your glass in the sink and went back upstairs. As you went to charge your phone, you see it. You reach to grab the velvet box and open it to see what would have been Leah’s engagement ring. You continue to stare at the custom made diamond and start to think what’s the point of anything?. After looking at the very expensive diamond You jumped awake several hours later to bangs on the door.

“Get up right now Y/N/N” You hear the lovely voice of your sister ring through the door.

“Go away Mapi”

“Not until you talk to me” Mapi pushes.

“You’re going to be here a while”

“Y/N Y/M/N León Cebrián open the fucking door right now!” You instantly got up from the bed and stared down Mapi and Alexia.

You got back into bed and Mapi got on one side while Alexia got on the other. You knew you had to open up eventually but you were scared to. You’ve never been the one to share your feelings, that’s when the notes app on your phone. it took you approximately a minute before you started to breakdown and you fell into your sisters arms.

After crying for a while, you compose yourself, somewhat and take the glass of water Alexia was offering you.

“What happened y/n/n?” Alexia asks softly.

“Leah she um, she cheated on me with Jordan”

“Wait her ex-girlfriend Jordan? I’m going to kill her!” Mapi stands and goes on a rant for a minute before sitting at the end of the bed again.

“How are you feeling?” Mapi asks putting her hand on yours.

“I was going to propose Map. Two more weeks and I would’ve proposed. I think I’m problem”

Mapi and Alexia spent the next few hours talking about some strategies to help this, since both girls have been cheated on before. You didn’t have any negative thoughts when the girls were there which was a change from your negativity the past few weeks.

Mapi decided that a movie day would be beneficial and you all shuffle downstairs to the living room. You get blankets out of the closet and Alexia makes popcorn in the microwave. Mapi quickly puts on your favourite movie and half way through the movie, you hear a loud knock at the door. You get up to go answer and when you do, you are lost for words.

“Hi Y/N”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

y/n = your name

y/n/n = your nickname

y/m/n = your middle name

Send in your suggestions, I’m open to anything within reason :)

#womens soccer #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #woso soccer #espwnt x reader

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goodolme · 2 years

Note

Heya beautiful cutie! How's goin? I really hope good,and eat the vegetables! They good for healthiness.

So,i see your request are open only for imagines so,if this doens't sound like one,feel completely free to ignore it ok?

The request is pretty simple. Rise Leonardo x reader (female or neutral, your choise) who was like Draxum, trying to kill them because in her head it's has to be done or sum,but now she's undestand that she was wrong and make part of they side and now Leo can go and confess more confident because she's not "evil" anymore (and obviously she accept and kiss that precious thing 🥺)

♡ sorry i tried to murder you ♡

Pairing: Rise!Leo x Reader

Pronouns: none mentioned.

Warnings: There might be grammatical errors.

Notes: Sorry I made you wait so long lovely, between tests and no motivation to write I couldn't come up with any ideas. But thankfully today inspiration decided to strike! So here you go!

Also I may make this a proper series at some point. I liked some of the ideas I came up with.

I'm also not sure If this is an imagine but we're here so

Masterlist

Since the moment he first saw you Leo knew he was in trouble.

It could have been because of the sharp object pointed to his throat but also because you were the most beautiful being he ever layed his eyes on.

Leo got a little "desiese", as Donnie called it, called love at first sight.

You two first met when you were in one of your missions.

Let me explain:

You grew up in the mystic city. Raised by a ground of yokai that called themselves "The Order" wich was basically a group that really didn't like anything mystic leaving the mystic city.

Their mission was to eliminate or at least stop the being that were mystical or brought anything mystical to the "other side" as they liked to call it.

Even though most of them don't even know if the other side was actually evil because almost none of them have been there and it actually turned out you were all being brainwashed BUT that's a story for another day.

Back to the stuff we're all here for:

The idea of the mission you were on was to find and eliminate the four individuals that have been detected going back and forth between the mystic city and the other side.

Unfortunately at that moment you couldn't only find one.

And it was the most annoying and full of himself boy you ever met in your whole life.

He would just keep flirting with you and making "clever" jokes.

Unfortunate to you you didn’t catch him.

But you would still try every time you had the chance.

Al least untill something bad happened.

And I mean BAD.

The end of the world was comming, courtesy of the krang.

And you may be thinking "Oh well if the world is ending then why is thet a bad thing? Weren't you against all the people there or something?"

Yeah well, with the end of the other side came the end of the mystic city. And you weren't really fond of that.

Leo, in the midst of the chaos, had an idea: What if they asked for help to the order? They knew a lot about this kinda of things no? Sure they wanted to kill him and his whole family but it was worth a try... right?

And just like that you were thrown to the other side.

And let me tell you this first impression was not the best.

Even though you were terrified you tried to fight the best you could.

And I that time, those short days (that really felt like an eternity) you started to realize.

You realized that the people from this part weren't bad as the order made them out to be.

They were just like you.

They wanted to save their families, loved ones and loved their world. They wanted to protect all of those.

After all the "almost end of the world" thing you decided to stay there.

Sure you'd be seen as a traitor by the order. And you were planning on going to them and explain everything to them and show them their bad ways.

But that was for another day.

Leo would be more than delighted to let you stay with him and his family.

Them not so much.

But eventually you grew on them.

Leo would definitely teach you all about "The other side lifestyle", explaining and introducing you to a whole new range of things.

Sure you were scared of some, but you went through it together, one step at a time.

Througgout your stay you started developing feelings toward the blue masked boy.

At first you didn’t really understand. You've never felt anything like that before.

One night you and the turtles decided to go out for pizza (on a rooftop of course) you and Leo were separated from his brothers as they messed around.

And then it came. He cinfessed his feelings for you. You could feel the heat rise up to your face.

Of course you confessed your feelings back. Telling him you didn’t really understand.

You would navegate it together.

Then he kissed you.

You could hear the sound of his brothers "awwww"s as well as a gagging sound in the background.

But you couldn't care less.

#rise leo x reader #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x you #leo x reader #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt x reader

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ppushable · 3 months

Text

of course we'll be okay

jean kirschtein x fem reader / longfic / chapter wc: 7.8k

2 - little sproutling

masterlist

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

I’m kneeling in front of Connie’s body. The splotch of blood on his upper lip is almost black under the dim, blue light.

That familiar smell wafts out of the hole I just came out of — it’s the same wet dog smell of the dorms before they were cleaned. Some of the air must have been trapped in the wall.

The person who helped us out is a titan in all but demeanour, easily clearing six feet. Or maybe I’m imagining it. Large, socked feet morph as he shifts his balance. “What happened to him?”

By some miracle, I find my voice. Maybe it’s because I find it easier to talk to his feet. “He did a backflip.”

“Oh,” he says simply, as if my statement answers all of his questions.

We play with the silence for a while.

“Should we— we should move him, right?”

We’re near the wall that the bed stage doesn’t actually touch, leaving a narrow strip of darkness up above. “On the platform?”

Strands of black hair turn silver against the light as he raises his head. “Yeah, uh.” He grunts, amused. “It’s fine, it’s not the first time.” He eases onto his knees, slides his arms under Connie’s warm corpse, and heaves upward. “What? Where’s the ladder?”

Oh shit. “It’s— it’s in the bathroom hall.”

“What’s it doing over there?” he sputters.

“I mean, I didn’t want it to be in anyone’s way.” As if to emphasize my weak argument, I flap a hand in the general direction of the entrance.

A smile grows on his face — he looks as distressed as I feel. “Why did you move it?” Tiny balls of sweat decorate his forehead.

“Sorry. I’ll go grab it for you.” Please. Let me leave for a while.

“Um…” His focus is between Connie and I. “Do you— I can come with.”

“Are you sure? You’re still…” I point. “Carrying him.”

Connie’s neck jerks back as he’s hoisted up again. “It’s fine.”

So we walk side-by-side into the barren outdoors, tongues tied and buried in ancient tombs.

“So, um,” the tall boy begins, and he’s immediately pinpointed by all of my senses, bar sight, which is more or less useless in these conditions anyway. “I’m sure you don’t remember, but I’m Bertholdt.”

He stops there, so I say, “Hi, Bertholdt. I’m Ostrich.”

“I know.” He clears his throat. “I mean. Hi. Ostrich. I remember you. That’s how I know your name.” He clears his throat again.

“Oh. Yeah.” My breath stalls as I chew my lip. “Sorry. I forgot about the whole, uh, memory thing there for a moment.”

The little dots of liquid are now rolling down his face. He chuckles as if being held at gunpoint. “Yeah, that really… sucks… sorry.”

“It’s— yeah. Thanks.”

Please wake up, Connie.

I didn’t say something in the past to make things so awkward, did I? What if I confessed to him? What if he saw me naked? What if everyone did? Oh, Christ, I need to stop thinking.

My neck is starting to hurt from looking down by the time we get there. We stop an equal distance from the entrance, twitch forward as if to go through, and stop. I take this opportunity to rush through with a muttered thanks.

Connie’s feet (or head, I can’t tell) bump the wall as Bertholdt steps in behind me. “Oh, sh—” he stops himself. “Sorry.”

I follow the small patch of ground afforded by Eren’s light until I reach a familiar doorway. “Is it okay if we stop for a minute? There’s something I wanna grab.”

Shuffling. “Uh, sure— I mean, it doesn’t really— I mean. It’s… sure.”

I escape to the room of my conception. It’s bigger when the back walls are eaten away by darkness. Where did I leave it? The bed. I toss the torch; shadows define and redefine themselves as it bounces onto the covers. A cold, beady tendril catches on my finger when I run my hand across the blanket and I scoop it. Here.

I snatch the light and hurry back to the boys, the flat metal glinting and stark against the coat I’m still wearing. I wear it because it’s comfy and for no other reason. To the right looms the spindly, dark shape of the ladder, so I wrap my hand around the first brown rung that I see. “Let’s go back.”

“Alright.”

The backs of his ankles start moving away. I heave the thing up and it wobbles under its own weight like the weak-spined bastard that it is. I’ll have to look for a replacement.

Bertholdt’s waiting by the exit, propping up his load with a knee.

“It’s nice being able to see again,” I try. He googly-eyes in response. “Was my joke that bad?”

“I, uh— yeah.”

Wow.

His Adam's apple squelches up and he clears his throat as it floats back down. “If you don’t mind, where— where’d you find that necklace?”

“This thing?” I pinch the metal plate as if there is another item of jewelry he could be referring to. “Hange gave it to me, they said it on me when they found me.” Now that I think of it, how was I found?

Soft light trembles on the edge of his moist chin. “I see. Let’s go back.” How much water does this guy drink?

“Okay—”

“Bert!”

We turn in sync as someone in a big hoodie comes barreling toward us.

“Sasha?” he responds.

Connie’s friend.

She stops in front of him with a few stomps and carefully places her hands on Connie’s face cheeks. “Conners?”

The girl stays there. Bertholdt gives me an uncomfortable glance and I shrug, biting the corner of my tongue.

Sasha swipes a thumb across his mouth and turns her back to him, scrutinizing the digit under the low light. Then she… licks it?

“Where are the fucking Twinkies, Bertholdt?”

His fingers curl. “Wha— I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She looks over her shoulder at him. “Is that how you want to play, boy?”

“I don’t…” He looks at me again. Pleadingly. I bite down a little harder.

But I’m spared from action as Sasha follows his gaze. Whatever grudge she holds instantly evaporates. “Oh, hi! I didn’t see you there!”

I laugh along for fear of death. “Hi!”

“You look familiar.” She leans in; I back up. I’m dead if she touches my face. “Don’t you think she’s familiar, Bert?”

“Oh, yeah, she—”

“You’re not…” She twirls a string on her hoodie and squints. “Ostrich!” She drops the string and points. “The, uh…” Her finger waggles as she thinks.

“Amnesiac?” I offer.

“Exactly,” she smirks. I’d hoped that wouldn’t work. “What, so you’re finally all better now? You’re remembering? Can I touch you?”

“Yeah. Uh, just not my—” I plaster on a smile as she wraps an arm around my shoulder. The ladder clatters to the ground like a gunshot. “Face.”

“Finally!” She directs (pushes) us back in the direction of the dorms and Bertholdt disappears from my line of view. “After all this time… Do you know how excited I was when I heard there’s a new girl here?”

Sasha is very strong. “Normal excited?”

She laughs. “You’re funny. That’s good. Or maybe it’s all in my head. Who knows?” We slow down. “What I do know is that you’re here. After sixteen days. Finally.”

“I was out for that long?” Sixteen days?

“Damn straight you were.” She smacks my arm. “You still don’t have a clue, huh?”

I try my best to shrug.

“Forget me one more time and I might actually go mental. It’s so annoying when I have to introduce myself, so I just stopped. And every day I visited you would just look at me with those fishy eyes. Like right now.”

I blink. “Sorry.”

She sighs. “There you go again. You’re worse than Armin sometimes, you know?” She violently scratches her hair, somehow messing up her ponytail even more. “And I have to introduce you to him again! So frustrating!”

“Wait.” She looks at me, one eyebrow a little higher than the other under parted bangs, and the guilt stirs for not recognizing it. Our faces are so close together. “You saw me? Every day?”

“Yeah!” My ear pops at the blaring tone. “Of course I did. You may not know it, but we’re friends. Oh, and Cons was there, too, but we don’t have to count him.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. What, you think we all just left you in that stinking bathroom? Everyone came to see ‘cause they were curious, but the real ones visited on a regular basis, every day.” She puffs out her chest in an incredibly Connie-like move. “Which is, like, me, Connie, Marco, Christa… maybe… wasn’t keeping track.”

“That’s so many.”

“That’s five people, Os. But enough about us!” The very thought of whatever is on Sasha’s mind imbues her with energy. She hops a little. “You can remember now, right? Tell me about yourself. Your past. Tell me what you yearn for. Your greatest trauma.”

“My name is Ostrich.”

She rolls her eyes and her entire head. “Okay, so you know the name Hange gave you. How about something actually relevant?”

“I don’t remember.” I’m pulled down a little as she slumps.

“So you got me all excited over nothing?”

“Sor—”

The grip on my shoulder tightens.

She actually might kill me. “… Damn straight, I did,” I mimic weakly.

Raising a hand from my shoulder, she borderline smacks my head. “Hahaha, I like you.” The hand returns. “Also, wash your hair.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I had a shower.

Hilarious.

Tilting her head, Sasha mutters, “fuck is he up to?” and lumbers us into a 180 degree turn.

Bertholdt almost runs into us. “Hi.”

“Shush, Bert! Hear that?”

We lock eyes. He shakes his head no and I glance into the abyss behind him, about to do the same.

But there’s something faint, like a heartbeat at dawn. Bomp. Bomp. Bomp.

“Someone’s running?” I breathe. A hand pops over my mouth.

“Shh… Marco!”

“Sash?” is the reply. A moment later I see — and I’ll be damned if it isn’t the freckled menace himself. “Bertholdt! And Ostrich! There you are!”

“Here I am.” I smile and Sasha squeezes me a little as Marco joins our little group.

“I’ve been searching far and wide,” he begins, “but— wait, is that Connie?”

Even Bertholdt seems at ease now. “Yeah, he hit his head pretty hard. We’re going to put him to bed.”

“Bed? What’re you guys doing out here?”

We lock eyes again, Bertholdt and I. It’s like our secret communication. “The ladder!”

Marco smiles. “Huh?”

Somewhere, wooden stakes clatter.

“Ossie!” Sasha huffs into my ear, making me squirm. “You heard that, right? Let’s go!”

“Go?” I manage to say before the girl yanks. We stumble into a run and I nearly trip over my own feet. “Gah! Marco!”

“You’re on your own!” he yells.

You idiot. Why did you call for him?

Beside me, Sasha giggles. I’m getting winded, breaths coming in molten lead huffs. It’s a little concerning.

“Aaa! Help me, Marco!” Her laugh deepens. “I’m in so much trouble!”

As I stagger down the halls once more, not a single response comes to mind to dignify myself. Thankfully, we roll to a stop shortly after.

There are two new people — a jaded-looking girl and her companion with an impossibly sleek bowl cut.

“That you, Sasha?” the yellow Q-tip warbles.

“Yeah, it’s me, Armo. Check it out.” She pushes me forward like a trophy, a haunting synonym to Hange pushing me on the balcony.

“Oh! Hello.” He’s hesitant to speak. His actions are jerky, too, as he awkwardly bows.

My eyes flit first to Sasha, then the other stranger. She sighs, hardly audible, and taps his spine. He straightens.

“Uh, you don’t have to…” I do something with my hands to indicate what words can’t. “Do that.”

“Sorry.” He looks down and pushes up the glasses perched halfway down his nose in a single fluid motion. “Ha-abit…”

This is worse than my confrontation with Bertholdt because of the way the new girl is looking at me.

“So, what’s your—”

“Gyaaaaah!”

Blood beats up my throat as Sasha suddenly screams, rendering one ear useless and buzzing.

The black-haired girl snaps a protective arm in front of Armin as he shrieks, their combined ejaculations fading slowly through the dark complex.

“Sasha!” I hiss. Shit, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that. I swing a glance around us as if checking for something — an image, brief yet harrowing, of the crawling torso comes to mind. What its eyes looked like. What it looks like now, lying sideways in the cold all inside out. “What was that for?”

She doesn’t respond so I look at her face, the one that looks like it can explode in laughter at any moment. “Sorry,” she siphons out, shutting her mouth immediately after and washing it all away with a deep breath. “You should’ve seen your faces…” A smile cracks her visage once more.

Yeah, she’s Connie’s best friend, all right.

It’s impossible to judge Armin’s expression with those heavy bangs and thick-rimmed glasses of his. It’s hard to see his eyes at all, in fact; his lenses seem cracked. He clears his throat. “Like I was saying. What’s your name?”

“Ostrich.”

“Oh, the one Hange— uh, I’m Armin. This is Mikasa.”

At her name, the girl raises a hand. Demure.

If anything, Sasha’s outburst made things a lot less awkward. Still, it’s not something I can thank her for.

“So, what are you guys doing out here?” Armin starts.

“Looking for the ladder,” the growth around my shoulder responds. “You seen it anywhere?”

The two share a glance. Mikasa picks something up. “It’s here.” A brown, wooden rung.

“Great! Mission solved.” Hitting my back, Sasha turns us around again and we start going back. “So far, you’ve met Marco, Cons, Bert, Mikachu, and Armin.”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Mikachu rumbles, and we speed up a bit.

“Are you excited to meet everyone?”

I sigh through my teeth. “As excited as I ever was.”

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Marco and Bertholdt are waiting for us when we get there. “Ladder?”

“Right here,” Armin calls.

“About time,” someone new grunts. “Fuckin’ freezing in here.”

“Ray!” Sasha waves. “Come here, look what I have!”

“If it’s another caterpillar, I swear to— oh, hey.” His tone of voice shifts. “It’s Ostrich. How you doin’?”

“I’m okay, how—”

“Reiner, Ossie is my best friend,” Sasha interrupts, “so you can’t be weird to her.”

Best friend.

“Let’s get going,” someone says, and we do, splitting off into our respective conversations.

“What makes you think I’m gonna be weird? I’m not a sleaze.” His attention falls on me once more. “So, I’m Reiner.”

“Hi, Rei—”

“Well, remember that one time—”

“Will you let us speak, woman?” His bulbous arms twitch as his grip on the pair of dumbbells he’s holding tightens.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Reiner’s eyes roll before resting on mine. “You were saying?”

“Uh,” I pull my consciousness back from a fragment of another talk I was listening to. “Hi, Reiner. Nice weights.”

“Oh, these?” He curls one like a paperweight. “It’s nothing. I bet you could carry it.”

I chuckle, half to myself. “I bet I couldn’t.” If running through a hallway tires me out…

“You could definitely do it, Ossie.” Sasha snatches one from his hand, but he doesn’t seem all too upset about it. “Reiner’s obsessed with his muscles.” She holds it out to me.

“That’s good to know, Sasha.” And I pick it up. “Oh, wow, heavy.”

“Ostrich?” Sasha smiles, finally letting go of me. “Why are you pretending it’s too heavy for you to carry?”

My arms tremble as the weights pull down half of my body. “I just like to pretend that sometimes, that’s all, don’t you know that’s a perfectly normal thing to do?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do that before.”

“Sasha.”

She takes the hint and pulls it from my grasp. “Are you, like, okay?”

What part of me is supposed to be okay right now? “I’m probably just tired from all the stuff I’ve been doing.”

“Eh? Who’s stuff?” She wiggles her eyebrows in yet another strikingly Connie-esque motion. “Eh?” She elbows Reiner, who had the mind to keep his mouth shut so far.

“Come on, Sasha,” he mocks, hand on hip, “Ossie’s my best friend, so you can’t be weird to her, okay? You absolutely cannot be weird to her.” He flutters his lashes and sways. “Oh.”

Her hand with the dumbbell swings at his body. “Oh, shit.” He blocks it and smirks. “Ha—”

Her other hand smacks his head.

“Ah! Ohh, it’s on.”

At the same time, my innards salivate and begin twisting themselves. I’m hungry. I’m really, really hungry.

“Was that your stomach? Ostrich, did you eat—” Reiner parries a blow— “anything today?”

Curse this stomach, mouthy bastard. “Not really.” Nothing other than Twinkies and the dust of the dead.

“What?” Both say, stopping their attacks.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Sasha asks.

Oh god, did they stop fighting for me? “Yeah.”

She bites her lip and narrows her eyes, seemingly lost in thought. “Okay,” she says quietly before shoving to Reiner her heavy weapon and speeding ahead.

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

The company halts short of the dorms.

“Is it just me,” starts Reiner, “but does it seem…”

“Different?” Armin perks.

“M’yeah.” The brawn pushes the garage door up to its highest and steps in first. Marco shrugs and goes in next.

Both silhouettes stop.

“Holy shit! It doesn't smell like feet anymore!”

“Woah, everything’s so sparkly!”

Their exclamations lure in the rest of us, who, sans Bertholdt and I, marvel at the room. The fruits of my labour.

The little dots on Marco’s face stand out so much more here. “What happened? Was it Levi? Was it you?” He suddenly turns to Sasha, who appears, and is responded with a simple, uncharacteristic shake of the head.

A baker’s rack rattles as Reiner sets down his weights. Probably his. “Had to be Levi.”

Levi?

“I don’t know.” Armin’s thick glasses are in hand now, revealing glassy, sea-blue eyes that flitter and pierce. His other hand runs along a wall. “The captain made it very clear that he wouldn’t send in any cleaners anymore, much less himself. Plus—” he pinches off some dirt— “by his standards, this place is filthy.”

Ouch.

Mikasa, still with the ladder, starts poking around with it at the curtain barrier around the bed stage.

Marco joins the effort and they get it into place. He stands right in front of the Connie hole, seemingly not noticing. “Well, the room didn’t clean itself.”

“Right.” The blond has his game face on now.

“Uh oh, he’s thinking.”

Something crunches close enough to my ear for my brain to feel it. But it’s just Sasha, unflinching as I twitch back, holding a noodle packet. She wiggles it. “Take it.”

Deep breath soothes pounding heart. “Are you sure?”

She just might shed tears right here and now. “Just take it,” she manages to say again, shoving it into my jacket with her gaze affixed to the ceiling.

“Ah— thank you, Sasha.” I have to tug the plastic a few times to make her let go of it. “That really means a lot to me.” Because it obviously means a lot to her.

“That was very kind of you.” Marco walks over, Mikasa trailing him like a stoic shadow. “We are all very proud.” Her pout deepens as he giggles. “You’ve been here before it was cleaned, right, Ossie? Don’t you think the room looks a little smaller without all the garbage inside?”

“I think so?”

“I’m gonna miss all those wrappers,” Sasha sighs, kicking at nothing. “So many free crumbs.” I’ll pretend I didn’t just hear that. “Eat it, Ossie! It’s mine.”

At this point I’d rather not, but I open the package anyway. Everything inside is crushed. I carefully pick up and crunch a piece of noodle without breaking eye contact. It’s not bad.

Bertholdt’s got Connie on the ground now and is working on scaling the ladder. It wobbles dangerously, but he’s practiced.

“I think,” Armin says, still mapping the place out in his head, “it was an inside job.”

“Well, it wasn’t me,” Reiner grunts.

“No kidding,” Mikasa mutters.

He throws up his hands and lets them slap his generous thighs. “Come on, Mikasa.”

“It wasn’t me, either.” Armin. “I was with Sasha, Ymir and Christa all day in the garden, so they’re in the clear.”

Oh, I see what’s happening.

Mikasa steps forward so that we’re enclosed in a human circle — Armin to one side of me and Sasha to the other. “Me and Annie were training. Bertholdt and Reiner were there, too, but they left early.”

I wonder how sweaty Bertholdt’s palms are now as he climbs the ladder.

“Well, it wasn’t either of us,” Reiner wards. “We had to sort after.”

“Where were you, Marco?” Sasha accuses.

“Sorting.” He shrugs.

Reiner seizes the conversation just as Sasha meets my gaze, as if she’s about to ask for my alibi. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Probably cuz all the blood that’s supposed to go to your eyes went into your enormous tits,” Sasha adds helpfully.

Reiner looks lost. Crunch, crunch.

I don’t want to come out and take the credit for cleaning, especially when they’re making such a big deal. I would be a big deal. I don’t even know what I’m doing here, and that would… take up their time. No.

Bertholdt climbs down, probably realizing he forgot to bring Connie up with him.

“If you’re jealous, Sasha, just come out and admit it.”

“In your dreams.” She pushes through and runs out of the dorms, probably sensing danger. Marco takes her place.

“Relax, Reiner. I was just on the other side of the facility,” Marco assures.

“Okay, so that leaves Jean, Eren, and Connie,” Armin states.

A female manifestation of Armin appears beside the man himself. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Trying to figure out who cleaned this place.”

“What, so it wasn’t Levi?” another person says. Her mean eyes catch mine. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Hm?” The small one follows her gaze and lights up. “Oh, hi, Ossie!”

“No, he definitely would’ve dusted the ceiling. And there’s some spots the mop missed. Like I said, filthy. Not to mention the equipment was left here. No way he would’ve let that slide.”

“Hi.” I smile. How many people is that now?

The lean, freckled brunette scratches the side of her head with one finger, thankfully not concerned with me anymore. “What about one of his lackeys?”

“Only under Levi’s orders, and he does quality checks. No way he’d okay something like this.”

“Couldn’t have been anyone else?”

“Well, it could only be Levi, one of his lackeys, or the housekeepers who already decided not to touch this place. Not the researchers, either, obviously. So it only leaves us.”

“Not Jean for sure,” Marco says. “Boy can’t clean for his life.”

Armin and Mikasa step aside to let girl-Armin and her bodyguard in the circle. It’s getting tight. “I saw Eren with Squad Levi earlier in the garden, so I think that rules him out too.”

“Probably pestering them again,” girl-freckles grunts. Bertholdt wobbles precariously heavenward, one rung at a time.

“Could it be… Connie?” Armin’s shoulder presses deeper into mine as he brings up a hand to his mouth. “He was on water duty today, so it’s not entirely impossible he got someone else to man the stations while…”

“No.” Mikasa deadpans.

Sasha squeezes in between Armin and I. So damn packed. Her sweater is covered in crumbs.

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, Armin,” Reiner teases, regaining some composure. Sasha sticks out a tongue, covered in a similarly coloured powder. He curls his lip.

“I… I don’t know what else to say.” Armin hugs himself.

“What’d you think?” Sasha asks me. I shrug midcrunch.

“Had to’ve been Marco.” Reiner. “He’s acting all suspicious.”

Marco’s face enters my field of vision. “Hey, you look pretty hot.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” And he points. “It’s a thick coat.”

Marco, Marco, please phrase your words better. I wasn’t feeling warm until he mentioned it — I didn’t even realize I still had on his coat — but now I’m burning up and my skin itches. I quite literally pop out of the circle, put down the packet, and tear down the zipper. “Sorry, you can have it back.” You leech, living off their hospitality!

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You can borrow it for a while.” He smiles.

“Oooo,” Sasha sings, and I want to die.

“Oooo,” Reiner joins, making a kissy kissy face and clasping together his hands. Heat pours off of my skin in waves — faster! Why am I responding to their goading? It means nothing!

“Come on, Reiner,” Armin warbles weakly, almost drowned out by Sasha’s cackling.

“It’s just a coat.” Marco grins like it’s nothing. “Would you let someone suffer in the cold?”

“You call this cold?”

I shed the jacket like it’s made of ants and make eye contact with Armin. He stares. I stare. We can’t seem to break out of our gaze.

“Where’d you get that thing around your neck?” He’s statue-still.

This necklace again? “It’s—”

“Captain Levi gave that to you, didn’t he?”

“Huh?”

Now everyone’s looking at the plain white cloth tied around my neck previously concealed by Marco’s generosity. The white cloth that I pulled over my nose as I swept and burned a hole through my muscles. The one the janitor last-minute dropped into my bucket.

Oh, so that’s Levi.

“So it was you all along,” girl-Armin utters, using both hands to cover her mouth. Girl-freckle’s eyebrow raises a few degrees.

I snatch the dumb cloth and shove it into the jacket pocket before clutching it like my lifeline. “It… sure was. Looks like you got me all figured out.” I laugh flavourlessly.

Armin. You’ll pay for this.

“What? What?” Sasha whips her head around as the ring dissolves. “What did you do?”

Mikasa crosses her arms and steps forward to stand right next to Armin. “I knew it wasn’t Connie.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you cleaned this place out?” Armin sounds a bit stressed.

To avoid this? “I dunno.”

“What do you mean, ‘I don’t know?’ You sent us on a wild goose chase!” Reiner exclaims. “No pun intended. Seriously, though.”

The garment is folded over my crossed arms and I pull it closer to my body, watching Bertholdt. “Didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Pah!” It’s bullshit and he knows it.

“I’m sure she has her reasons.” Marco steps over and clamps his right hand on my shoulder and it somehow makes it a little bit better. You cheesy fuck. “I mean, the secret’s out now.”

“Sorry about the stuff I said about the filthiness…” Armin mutters as Sasha comes up on my other side. “You did better than any of—”

“Wait, so it was you who cleaned the dorms?” Sasha’s voice is loud; I’m not sure if she’s yelling or really close to my ear. Maybe both.

“Yes, Sash,” Marco answers for me.

“Whaaaa?” She caws. “Of course it’s a big deal!” She’s way too loud. “Nobody’s been able to clean this place except you! You’re like a goddess!”

I stare harder at Bertholdt. “Thank you, Sasha.”

“She’s right,” girl-Armin adds with a smile.

“Look at you! You’re helpful!” Reiner exclaims. “Haw!”

Haw? Who says “haw?” Hange didn’t warn me about this, what am I doing here? “Thanks.” I wonder how long I can run before I’m tackled, Super Bowl-style. Maybe I’ll make it a few metres.

“Bwuh?!” someone yells — Bertholdt. He suddenly pounds down the ladder and actually cracks through the second last rung, hitting the floor hard right before the ladder does.

“Woah, Berto!” Reiner hurries to his friend and we follow suit. In an instant the ladder is tossed aside. “What’s—”

“Bertholdt, are you okay?” Girlmin cries, her words cutting out Reiner’s.

From this angle, I can see the edge of the platform dead above. A familiar face peers down with a canyon of a grin. “Aw, man, I missed everything!”

“Connie!” Sasha sings.

“Hey, bee-yotch!” He puts his hands on the railing lining the edge of the platform and pushes his body forward so that his upper half hangs. “Reiner! Catch!”

“Don’t!” Bertholdt and Armin holler simultaneously. It’s a little funny, actually.

Connie snickers. “Catch me, Reiner!”

“Hell no!”

In an incredible act of daredevilism, Connie freefalls anyway, spurring his safety net to scramble to catch him in his arms. He manages to step on Bertholdt’s shin in the process and nearly slips as flesh rotates around bones.

“Aaach!”

Armin and his female counterpart scatter from his sides like hyenas around fresh-kill as the lion returns. I really need a name for her.

“Oof!” The ground trembles enough for half of us to bend our knees. “Little bugger!”

Connie wraps his arms around Reiner’s neck — he’s being held bridal style — and sniffs the air. “Hey, the cheese touch is gone!”

In a flash Sasha’s at my side. “Someone cleaned up!”

“Ossie? You did this?” He smacks Reiner’s head and points to me and he begrudgingly walks over. “I mean, of course you did. I could sense your potential, you know? From the moment we met.”

“I see,” I reply as their combined shape more than blocks out the light.

“Everyone,” he calls, chest puffed. “Connie’s back in the house!”

Sasha cheers, sees I’m not, and shakes me until I “woo” halfheartedly.

“Got somewhere to be. Bye.” Girl-freckles raises a hand as she and her companion walk out.

“We’re heading out, too,” Armin adds. “We’ll be finding Eren.”

“What? He’s more important than me?”

Mikasa’s glare transcends all languages.

“Whatever, we don’t need you anyway! Reiner, take me to the whiteboard!”

Connie falls flat on his ass as Reiner drops him. “Bastard.” A flat hand barrels toward him — as if sensing the air currents, Connie ducks, narrowly avoiding a cuff to the temple that might have cracked his skull. “Okay, okay, geez! I’m sorry! See, Ossie, nobody appreciates me,” he pouts.

“It’s okay,” I say with the most reassuring expression I can muster.

“This is the part where you say you appreciate me.”

My eyes almost roll but I catch them. Connie is… innocent isn’t the right word, but I want to trust him. “I appreciate you.”

He gasps so loud his lungs might rupture. “See that, Sash? That’s what being a good friend is.”

“I’ll kick your ass, Springer.”

“I just might enjoy that, Braus.”

“So, Connie,” Marco starts. “Mind telling us what happened?”

The blood from his nose half-smudges half-crumbles on his face when he wipes it. “Eh?”

“How did you end up in a coma.” He phrases it more like a statement than a question.

“Oh! That.”

“I wanna know, too,” Reiner calls from where he’s kneeling by Bertholdt, helping him up.

Connie is delighted. “Well, it all started when… when I got stuck in a wall. I couldn’t find my way out. It was pitch black, I couldn’t see with a damn, and there were spider webs.” He shudders and rubs his head. “Lil critters.”

“And then?” Sasha pries.

“Then I heard Marco. He was… whistling. So I banged hard on the wall and told him I was stuck.”

“And then?”

Connie tsks. “He just kinda stopped there so I yelled at his deaf ass.” Here he dangles his fingers over his eyes to impersonate Marco’s bangs. “So I did, and then—”

“Wait a minute,” Sasha thinks out loud. “What were you doing in the wall?”

“Nothing! Let me finish my story, jeez.”

“Why were you in the wall?”

“Let me finish!”

“Answer my question first.”

“So, anyways, I heard Marco, and—”

“Don’t you dare ignore me, Springer, I will mess you up.”

He just talks over her. “— And I told him I was stuck, and he told me mffmnf.”

Sasha’s hand clamps over his mouth. He smacks it a few times but she has a vice grip on him.

“Woah, break it up now.” Marco pries the two apart and holds them both at arm’s length. “Answer her question, Connie. I’m curious.”

“I’d like to know, too,” Bertholdt says. “If that means anything…”

Nervous amber eyes dart to mine. I nod. He might as well tell the truth.

“I was looking for a quiet place to jerk off.”

Oh, no, Connie.

Reiner starts choking on his own spit, Bertholdt looks pained, Marco delicately lifts his hand from Connie’s head, and Sasha backs up a step. I leave to pick up my noodles.

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Connie managed to lure his best friend into something conversational with a few crackers. It’s scary how quickly Sasha’s mood can turn with the promise of food. I’ll have to take notes.

Girl Armin — Christa — and girl-freckles — Ymir — walk in. The taller one holds a bowl which eventually ends up being shoved in my hands. “Wuh— hot!” The heat sears through every nerve and I nearly drop it.

“What a baby,” she sneers, and I wither away like a California raisin. “A thank you would be appreciated.”

For a bowl of hot water? “Thank you,” I say to her absolutely chewed up boots. They have charms on them, how cute.

“What’s going on?” Sasha suddenly appears at my shoulder. “What’s happening here?”

“Yeah, what’s happening here?” Connie appears at my other side, then squints, something he probably believes to be macho. “Don’t bully Ossie. She’s under my blessing.” He snatches the bowl and screeches like a banshee, dropping it like thunder. Hot water splashes over our feet, to our varying displeasure.

“Fucks’ sake!”

“Ah!”

“Connie, you idiot!”

He points. “She didn’t tell me it was hot!”

“What?”

“Look at my hands!” He flashes me his palms.

“I’m sorry, Connie.”

“Don’t apologize! It’s annoying.” Ymir flaps her hand. “It’s his fault anyways. Stand up for yourself, Christ. Whatever.” She leaves.

“Come on, Connie, you’re not helping with her confidence issue.”

He snorts, blowing away the last of the blood. “Whose side are you on?”

“Ossie’s.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, what’re you looking at?” He waves his hand in front of my eyes. “Hellooo? Earth to—”

I reach out and his arm slaps against my palm.

“Oye.”

“She got water for me. For my noodles.” I turn to look at him. “Isn't that nice?”

“Uh, trust me, they were probably just fucking around somewhere and brought the water to—”

Sasha slaps him.

“Ow! My lucky face!”

“Shape up, loser, Armin and Mik-sa are back. Hey, Mikasa!”

She doesn’t respond, just flies to a shelf like she’s magnetic and starts rummaging through. “Where is my scarf?” Her normally quiet voice rings through the room. “Where is it?”

“Um…” Marco looks around. “Hey, Bert, did you see it on the platform?”

The shock makes him hiccup or something. “I don’t think so, but I can double check.”

Mikasa’s “don’t bother” is hardly audible as she rushes past him and scales the ladder at record speed, double-runging it.

“Are you sure it’s not on your shelf?” Armin almost pleads.

“You doubt me?”

“No, no, ‘course not, I just…”

Marco taps his back in reassurance as he sidles over to us. “Ossie, have you seen it?”

“Uh…” I’ve seen too many things in this room. “What does it look like?”

“Just a red scarf.”

Red scarf… I meet Sasha’s eyes as if that would help. Somehow, it does. “Was it dirty?”

Marco cringes. “Ehh…”

“I washed it.”

“What?” Sasha and Connie ask, a beat away from each other. Connie contines in a whisper. “Holy shit. You’re actually gonna get skinned.”

“What?”

“I can’t protect you from Mikasa…” Sasha hushes.

“What?!”

“Where is it now?” Marco asks.

“Hanging on the big shelf by the window.” Thinking I know where it is, I look, but it’s too dark to actually see it.

“Hey, Mikasa? Mikasa.” He waits until the silhouette of her head pops down. “Check, the, uh, big window shelf. Sorry, I think I put it there earlier.”

Thump goes Mikasa as she jumps from the ledge. Rattle goes something at the moment of impact. “Jesus!” goes Reiner from across the room. But I’m to focussed on the back of Marco’s neck to notice.

He took the brunt of it. For a stranger like me. Not a stranger. The only stranger is me, to myself. Everyone else seems to have it all figured out. Bathroom girl. Amnesiac. Experiment. Baby. They all know me.

Am I really someone worth taking the blame for? No, there must be a catch — a repaid debt? Or one expected to be repaid? Is he just like that? Is there something wrong with him? Are they playing a trick on me? Am I dreaming? Where is Mirabel? Where is Hange? Where is Levi? Where is my mother?

Get a hold of yourself.

“Woah, dude! You’re gonna—” A pair of boxers wafts onto Connie’s yelling face. Sasha is rendered unable to breathe in a matter of seconds.

“Those— are—” She grasps her stomach, fingers curling, and tries to take in air. “They're Jean’s! Bahaha—”

Another pair hits her square in her open mouth. She gets a good breath of it.

In her frenzy, Mikasa is throwing objects from the shelf.

Connie gasps, coughs, sputters, and howls. “Reiner’s!” He has braces.

“Take the goddamn underwear off your face before you start laughing.” Sasha finishes off the sentence with a dry heave, the garment pinched between two fingers.

“Mikasa, careful!” An orange and yellow blur whizzes past Armin’s head — he barely ducks in time. “My futon!”

But nothing else is thrown as she seems to find what she’s looking for. A sopping wet scarf. She holds it in front of her the way someone would hold a fish. “Why is it wet?” She faces Marco, double fierce, then shifts to me. “You.”

“That’s enough, Mikasa.” There’s a difference in his tone, a string of warning. She brushes past and puts her face to mine.

“Not my scarf.” Her warm breath lingers stale between us…

“Mikasa!”

… and whirls away when she storms off.

What happened?

“Are you okay?” Marco’s icy edge melts in an instant.

“I’m all good.”

“She’s a nice girl,” Connie says. “It’s just that she treats that scarf like it’s a part of her body.”

“You’re unlucky as hell to have picked it up today, because she always has that thing on.” As if to emphasize her point, Sasha draws an invisible scarf around her neck. “Like a second neck.”

“Eren gave her that scarf.” In Armin’s arms is his “futon,” which he drapes over his head like a hood. Endearing. “I’m sorry. It’s really special to her, but she’ll calm down. She’s— it’s nothing personal. We know you didn’t have bad intentions or anything. Again, I’m really sorry.” He nods and fades into the dark halls.

So that’s what you meant, Ymir.

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

The two return soon after, followed by Eren. He sort of just appears at my side. “You’re alive.”

“Unfortunately.” I hold my breath until Marco snorts beside me and Eren smiles. So he can smile.

The book Marco’s reading fits perfectly into his palm as he pries apart the pages with his middle finger like a bookmark and lets it dangle by his side. “What’s up?”

“I’m out. Jean needs a partner.”

Connie groans loudly. “Count me out.” A small yellow blur flies into his mouth as he speaks; his jaw snaps shut with a crunch and reopens a moment later to vocalize his excitement. “Yooo!”

“Bullseye!” Sasha laughs, shaking the bag of fish crackers around as if half of it isn’t laying scattered and crushed around Connie’s feet.

“I’ll go,” Marco volunteers. “So will Ossie.”

“What will Ossie?”

“You’re coming with me to see Jean.” He grins. “You wouldn’t mind, right?”

“Do I have a choice?”

He beams. “Great! Got your coat?”

“My coat?”

“Yeah, your coat. Grab it from your shelf, it’s cold.”

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Mirabel’s face lights up when she sees us in the hallway. “Hello, dears! How are you!”

“Hey,” Hange greets. “It’s my little bird!”

“We’re doing pretty good, thanks,” Marco answers with a kind of charm that middle-aged women usually take a liking to. “Right, Ossie?”

“Yep.”

“How are you guys?”

“I’m just fine, Marco, thank you for asking.” The delight is evident in her very actions as if the sight of Marco just rejuvenates her.

“Well, I’m beat.” Hange pulls off their glasses and rubs their eyes. “So many reports.”

“That’s a real shame, Professor. Maybe it’s only boring because you already know what to expect.”

They scoff. “Now wouldn’t that be horrible?”

“Horrendous, really,” Mirabel concurs. “How are you, dear?” She zones in on me. “Everything alright? Did you have enough to eat? Nobody is being mean to you, right? My goodness, you must be freezing in those thin pants!”

“I’m okay, uh, Miss Mirabel.” Miss Mirabel? “Everyone’s been fantastic to me.” She scans every inch of my body and I swallow hard.

“Mmm… I see. That’s good! I’m glad you’re adjusting so well!”

I exhale. “Good, me too.”

Hange unleashes an exceedingly loud yawn. “Lay off the poor kid. She’s been through enough, eh?” A small smile cracks their face. “When you’re better, expect a visit.”

“Hush, you. You’ve been nothing but a pest all day.”

They terminate mid-stretch. “Hey!”

“Ostrich, dear,” Mirabel continues. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned it to you yet, but I won’t be here forever.”

Is she giving me the death talk right now?

“I’m leaving tomorrow to Trost. Do you know Trost?”

I shake my head.

“It’s another branch where I used to live with my son, and it’s where I usually stay. I only come around to Shiganshina every once in a while for a visit.”

“Oh. So you’re leaving?”

“For now, yes.”

I want to say something. She’s been my benefactor for over two weeks, and I haven’t anything to show for it. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s nothing to thank me for. It was a pleasure.”

How casual. I nod.

“Trost is lovely,” she continues. “It’s also much safer. Here is… well, I’m sure you already know it’s still in the works. You’re welcome to come with me if you’d like.”

And leave here? Leave the people and the dog room and the janitors and the zombies? Into the big bad world?

Marco raises his eyebrows and smiles, an invitation of choice. Hange gives me the eagle eye.

Absurd as this dream might be, I don’t think I want to leave yet. Please don’t be mad, Mirabel.

“I think I’ll stay here.”

“Good choice, kid,” Hange smirks. Marco beams.

With a hint of resignation, Mirabel puts hand to hip. “Well, I can’t say no to that,” she sighs, but she smiles too. “It’s your decision. But I’ll be here for a bit if you change your mind.”

“Of course, of course,” Hange rushes. “But that won’t be necessary, yeah?” It might be the glasses, but something glints in their eye. “She’s perfectly safe and sound here.”

“Yep!” Marco says. “We’ll make sure of it.” Something warm lands on my head; my breath turns shallow. “There’s no need to worry, Ms. Kirschtein. By the way, have you seen Jean?”

Mirabel says something but the words escape me. I think I made the right choice. Inability to speak be damned, janitors be damned, zombies be damned, I think I’ll be happy here.

But can I have that? Compared to Reiner with his muscles or Armin with his brain, what do I have to offer to them? A cinderblock on a chain? I can’t even lift a weight. I have the cardiovascularity of a cabbage. As for smarts — well, that one is obvious. I don’t even know how old I am.

Are you really selfish enough to drag everyone down for the sake of your own happiness?

No, shut up, dream. Shut up. Shut up.

“Hey, Ostrich? Ossie.” My head is no longer warm. “You okay there?” Marco.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Alright, well.” Seemingly unconvinced, he tilts his head toward Mirabel — Ms. Kirschtein — Hange, and a tall guy who suddenly appeared. He’s taller than Bertholdt. There is absolutely so much of him.

“How long ago was it now?” Hange is saying. “Couple weeks, right?”

“Sixteen days,” Marco pipes.

Tall guy sniffs. “Mhm.” Voice as deep as you’d expect.

“Oh!” Hange starts. “You don’t remember, Ossie, but this is Miche. Say hi.”

“Hi.”

Miche leans in. His eyelids flutter shut, fanning long eyelashes, and I watch his pores in terror as he comes ever closer to take a deep sniff, sucking away the warm air with his arched nose. And dad-sneezes.

“I’ve never seen that reaction before!” Hange exclaims, regaining lost energy. “I wonder what it could mean!”

“It’s supposed to mean something?” I breathe. At least he had a mind to turn away before sneezing.

“Don’t worry, he does it to everyone. It’s just his way of saying hello! Isn’t that right, Miche.”

He runs a finger against the bottom of his nose. “Mhm.”

“Miche was the one who found you and brought you back way back when. Did you ever say thank you?”

“Really?” I look up at the sniffer. “Thank you.”

He grumbles a laugh. “Don’t listen to Hange. You thanked me every day.” He scans us both. “Do you two have somewhere to be?”

“Yes!” Marco says. “We do. If you’ll excuse us…”

“You are excused,” Mirabel finishes.

He starts down the hall. “Let’s go.”

“Bye bye, now!” Hange calls after us.

I turn back to their waving hands. “Bye!”

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Marco stops us in the pitch-black chamber, in front of the door to the fire exit. Traces of light seep in around the first door.

“So, before you go.” Clothes rustle. “You should know that Jean is my closest friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids. He’s really a good guy. He just has layers. Like an onion.”

“Okay.”

“He’s been through a lot. So, please don’t get upset if he comes off as a bit… brash. He likes to talk.”

Brash? “You’re scaring me, Marco.”

Something clicks and light pours in from the other side now as Marco cracks open the outer door. He looks happy. “After you.”

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

i don't have to format the image html! that makes me very happy!

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 1 - resigned delusion 3 - a dark stain on the carpet

#ofcwbo #pushable #jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschtein x reader #aot fanfiction #zombie au #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein fanfiction

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forbiddenfrvt · 1 year

Text

D E C A Y

de·cay [verb] : fall into disrepair; deteriorate.

re4r!leon kennedy x former umbrella assassin!reader, enemies-rivals x lovers?

warnings: sparring violence, usage of blades, | mentions of getting cut | blood | suggestive jokes | m x afab reader | explicit language | word count: 3259 words. ps: This is part one of this specific project/series. Decay will be uploaded into three to maybe four? parts as this goes on? NOT YET PROOFREAD author's notes: Basically a fuzzbrain moment, I was like- I feel like the workplace romance trope for leon is going on around, why not write one that jiggles my brain further, this is practically word vomit atp so sorry for errors. i imagined how conflicted leon would be to have a partner who used to be the top mercenary for umbrella corp n needing to trust her; esp after what transpired at raccoon city. poor bby will always be haunted by umbrella, one way or another. THERE will be smut at some point obvi heh. but id like to build up their relationship first before so nothing dirty for chapter one here.

Life has consistently made itself clear about not wanting to be fair; regardless if you're a saint, or a sinner. And funnily enough, life had placed you in the depths of hell, eager to see you crawl out of it like the devil aching to wear its' wings once more. Needless to say, you weren't God's favorite, not that you still thought there was one. Constantly being denied the privileges of believing. Especially now after the affairs with Raccoon City; affairs that never really ended.

Affairs that had just begun.

It had been six years since your arrival within the USSTRATCOM force, six whole years of rigorous training along half-assed assessments, and none of those days had passed by smoothly.

Six years of pure torture under the guise of justice.

You made your way inside the DSO training grounds, the click-clacking of your stilettoes echoed throughout the hall, announcing your arrival. It had been noted to you by others how 'impractical' your heels were during training and missions yet all you could ever say in response was a flat; "So?" proceeding to head onto fights victorious and fashionably. But in all honesty, you just preferred how you can use the tip of your heels like a knife.

Oceanic blue orbs observed your entrance, standing in the middle of the ring, just how he did the day you've first met, his rigid posture evident. Glaring at you was none other than your assigned partner—; Leon Scott Kennedy.

“You.” He jeers, as if your presence alone was an insult to him. And no matter how long it had been, no matter what you did to appease your colleague, Leon never bothered to, at the very least, be decent with you.

Of course you weren't no martyr, his habitual hatred for you eventually rubbed off on yourself— reciprocating his negative disposition. “Awe, I take it you don't miss me, Kennedy?” You spoke with a copy smile etched in your lips; eager to annoy him further than your presence alone did.

Tch. Leon clicks on his tongue, focusing his eyes over his bandaged hands, tightening it as you hopped over the ring— tiresome eyes never abandoned yours.

"Just so you know," He paused, taking a step forward. "I won't go easy on you."

Hah, how cocky. His words rang in your mind, a mixture of excitement and irritation conjoining. You were practically rivals within the field at this point, with everyone letting out a harsh breath whenever the two of you would bicker or spar, feeling the tension for themselves. Eyes squinting in annoyance upon hearing his remark, “You'd be forced not to, Kennedy.” You turn to the side, fixing your bandaged hands, making sure the fabric were tight enough not to fall apart mid-spar.

"Forced?" Leon asks with a grin, raising a brow. He cracks his neck, loosening muscles before taking a defensive stance with a relaxed demeanor. "I don't know how you'd manage that." This by far had been the longest you two conversed since you've met. Further proving just how estranged the both of you are despite being partners. “Oh, trust me Ken Doll.” You flash a sly smirk, a single strand of your hair framing the left side of your face. “I know my way around you.” You add with a wink. After all these years together, how could you not? Leon raised an eyebrow at your cockiness. “How so?” he asked, giving you an amused smile.

You shook your head, placing one foot behind her and the other to the front for support; already gauging his moves for the spar. He took a forward stance, one foot forward and one foot back, raising his fists in a ready position. He had a smile on his face, but a competitive gleam in his eyes. “Show me what you can do.”

Without a word of warning, you pushed yourself forward, kicking the foot you placed to your back upward— aiming towards Leon's head. Fist at the ready for his defense.

Leon ducked to the side almost instantly, leaning back to avoid the unexpected attack. His face showed a look of surprise at your speed, but he quickly regained his composure. “Not bad,” he said with an impressed look on his face. “I thought you would have taken it easy on the first shot.” He readied himself for your retaliation, getting ready to dodge.

Your voice was laced with amusement and mockery at the same time. “Aw, you know I love you too much to do that.” Dropping the same foot to the ground, you wasted no time to spin yourself around and throw another roundhouse kick at Leon starting with the other leg, one arm supporting your leap. While yes, they both already acknowledge the fact that they were rivals, and maybe even the others had to— you did hold respect to his prowess in that regard. It simply was his attitude towards you that pushed you away from actually befriending the guy. That and, you simply couldn't bring yourself to lower your pride. 'Just for Leon Kennedy? Nah, you wouldn't. Not in a million years. Right?'

He subconsciously allows her to be herself during fights. He excites her, more than she wants him to. More than he'll ever know.

Leon jumps to the side, narrowly avoiding the vicious attack yet again. His eyes were wide with surprise at the speed and power contained within your attack. “You’re certainly packing quite the punch,” he said, getting ready to respond with his own attack. “You must be more determined than I anticipated.”

You could only chuckle— “C'mon Kennedy, it's me.” enjoying this spar session. You caved to relax your stance, preparing to avoid his attacks. Your eyes intent on not leaving his body. "You know I'm capable of anything."

“We’ll see if you can keep up with my pace,” he says with a smirk as he begins to rush in. He swings a wild left punch to catch you off guard, and then sends a hard right kick towards your head. “Let’s see what you got, dollface!” he taunts. It seems Leon wasn’t holding back anymore, but that was a given with the two of them.

Your eyes slants in focus, ducking down to avoid the kick while simultaneously dodging his punch, your leg swiftly sliding down across his legs in an attempt to trip him down. Adamant to avoid his hits. You were indeed faster than Leon, but he obviously packs more force in his punches than you could. Duh, he's a muscle man.

You manage to avoid both of his strikes, moving much faster than he anticipated. Still, he catches himself, recovering from the attack with surprising skill. He seems even more impressed and cautious than before, but ever more determined to land a hit. “Very impressive,” he says, taking a second to catch his breath. “Maybe I underestimated you a lil’ bit.”

He sounds genuinely impressed this time. And you hadn’t expected him to actually compliment you, especially since you’ve been rivals for as long as you can remember. “You're just rusty now, Kennedy.” You grin— cartwheeling away from him, before crouching down preparing your body for his next blows. “Fun. But rusty for me.”

“Rusty or not, you sure are something else, [Y/L/N],” he says with a small, almost amused smile. He starts circling you, readying himself to continue the fight. It seems he’s determined to land one of his attacks. “What’s your next move, huh?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, I don’t have all day!”

Her legs swiftly launched towards him, landing behind him before kicking his knees to push him on the ground— giggling mockingly as she does so. “Awe?" a fake hurt, "You can't even spend an entire day playing with me now, Ken Doll?”

Leon stumbles, clearly surprised from your sneak attack. He recovers quickly, standing back up, but not before letting out a small grunt of pain. “Alright, now you’re asking for it,” he says, with a playful grin. He lunges forward in an attempt to land a punch but quickly backs up. “I hope you’re ready.” He seems more determined than ever, throwing his jabs and kicks with an increased level of power. It seems you’d really made him angry with your previous kick.

You eventually got hit with his punches on your cheek along with both of your forearms from blocking them, yet your smile never faltered, nor the glint in your eyes as you stared directly at his blue orbs. “Am I? Maybe I am demanding more from you.” You threw your arms sideways blocking his while simultaneously hitting his side with your elbow, using your agility to land blows back in retaliation for his harsh punches. Laughing as his brows furrow in agitation, “Don't stress about me, Handsome.”

“I’ll admit, you’re better than I expected,” Leon says as he lands several solid blows on your arms, his punches growing stronger and stronger as the fight continued.

Suddenly, he lunges forward, trying to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you into a tight head lock. He squeezes his arm in an attempt to knock you down. If he can pull off his attack, he’ll gain the upper hand in this fight. You had better come up with a plan, and fast.

With a quick turn, you did let him feel up your waist; but only before sliding down to escape his grasp, crouching and gliding in and back out between his legs to avoid his lock, coming up from behind. “Never did I think a day would come where I'm in between your lap, Kennedy.” You whispered teasingly on one side of his ear, before going over on the other, blowing cold air on his earlobes— “But here we are.”

His face reddens at your teasingly mocking words, but all you get from him is an irritated frown. He’s not going to let that get to him, no matter how much you tease him during this spar. Seizing the opportunity to, you hit his sides from the back to push him aside.

Leon jumps back, narrowly avoiding your blow to his ribs. He glares at you over his shoulder. “You’ll regret that, [Y/N],” he growls., spinning his heel around and points an accusing finger towards you. “You better watch yourself with that kind of talk, princess.”

“Hmm? What kinda talk?” You inquired, voice— vixen-like.

Leon scowls, annoyed at your words, but you certainly caught him off guard. "You know what I meant," he says through gritted teeth. “And don’t get any ideas.”

Obviously, his reactions piqued your interests further more, taking slow strides circling him as he did to you earlier. Your hips sway from left to right as if you couldn't be bothered to be on guard. “I wish you were half this funny all the time, Mr. Policeman.” You looked at him, a blank face with a seemingly disappointed tone, “Maybe I would've liked you better.”

Even so, a small smirk finds its way onto his face. “Oh yeah? Is that so?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His tone is a little bit teasing with a hint of arrogance. "Having you like me sounds disgusting, [Y/N]." He seems a bit more relaxed than before, but you can tell he’s still determined to win this sparring session. "I don't blame you though."

“What makes you think I even see you as a member of the opposite sex?” You snarked, "Much less a member of the same species..." cocking your head to the side, before ushering him to come at you. “If I had a knife I would've already had it sitting on your throat— Kennedy.” You add menacingly, yet— it was obvious in your tone that it was more so you simply expressing your blatant annoyance. You rarely could ever feel the urge to actually hurt such Leon, but man would it feel so good to.

“Oh, you think that’ll save you?” Leon asks, raising an eyebrow. He seems confident, but he’s hiding a flicker of uncertainty. He’s never fought against a knife before, and he’s not sure if he’d be able to avoid serious damage if you attacked him. But he can’t back down now, he’s come too far.

“Let’s see it, dollface,” he taunts. “Let’s see how you do against a real weapon.”

The officials probably wouldn't care as long as they didn't actively go and try to kill one another so you smiled in agreement. Clearly reminding yourself why you liked his spontaneity; he mirrored you, in ways you both liked and disliked.

“You're asking a fish to breathe underwater at this point Leon.” Your smug smile matches his, taunting him back with confidence. You swiftly grab one of your daggers stashed on the table, letting Leon pick his weapon of choice out, fairly showing what you picked off.

Leon looks surprised for a second, then takes out a combat knife from his pocket. He seems eager to finally bring a real weapon into the fight. “What do ya say, doll face?” he asks with a wink. “You ready to get serious?” He smiles and stands in a defensive stance, gripping his blade tightly. Even if it was just a training exercise, he didn’t seem to be taking any chances, as if he was actually fighting for his life. That’s just the type of person he is.

“I don't know if I'm ready for that sort of commitment with you yet, Kennedy.” You remarked, jokingly.

With each swish of the daggers around your fingers— you lowers your stance, making it easy for you to jab the weapon around.

You were a weapons expert like Carlos is, that's for sure. A friend whom she might never disclose around the space. “A criminal versus a cop.” She mumbles to herself, laughing inwardly.

“Try and catch me, Officer~.”

Your playful words only make him smirk again as he advances on you with a determined look in his eye. “I’d rather take you by force,” he says, his voice filled with confidence and authority. He doesn’t waste any time before lunging forward with his knife, swinging it in a wide arc to test your reflexes and ability to dodge. His eyes are cold and focused, as if he’d been fighting real killers his whole life. “Let’s see how you handle this, doll face,” he says, with a faint smile. “I can’t wait.”

The girl ducks down in opposite directions that Leon swung at, letting him be at the offensive this time around. You linked your arm around his before kicking him from the back, still not actively swinging your daggers. , You were used to this, of course, in every sparring session they had together; it became clear to you what Leon is good at, and where his blind spots were.

Hell, one would think this is how their usual dates would go; if they actually were a couple. But no, course not. “Best you could do? I'm falling sleepy here, Kenny.”

Leon stumbles back from your kick to his back, barely managing to keep his balance. He’s surprised to see how well you’re dodging his attacks, but he’s not about to back down yet. He growls as he charges forward, sending a wide slash towards the center of your body. This time he’s putting all of his strength behind his attack, taking no chances. “You won’t be sleepy for long, dollface,” he says with an amused grin. “I’m going all out this time.”

The former rookie cop manages to graze your stomach, a medium length gash forming at your skin, contrasting beautifully against your [Y/S/C] complexion. With so much as a hiss of pain, the girl sprang forth like a snake.

Hence her nickname at the battlefront.

In retaliation to his slice, you grab hold of him from the side, wrapping your legs around his hips before stabbing the tips of your daggers in his arm, creating two holes on his bicep.

Leon looks surprised by how quickly you react to his attack as he grunts in pain. In the blink of an eye, you plunge your daggers into his arm, leaving him bleeding.

“Damn! Fine, fine, ya got me,” he says, smiling in spite of his wounded arm. He grits his teeth, clearly in pain, but he does have to admire your skills. You really are impressive to be able to take him down so quickly.

“Alright yeah, I’d say you won,” he admits with a chuckle. “Really? When we're both injured in the same capacity?”

You could only roll your eyes in disbelief, lifting your shirt up to showcase the long wound Leon carved onto you. “Did you want to be a surgeon or something?” Your eyes darting to your stomach and back at his arm. “Be glad I cleaned my knives earlier, I almost panicked that I left paralyzers on the blades.” “You got me there,” he admits with a laugh. “Your skills are certainly something else.”

With so, your arms clearly bruised, you turned around. “Can you untie my hair for me? It's pulling too roughly now— you messed it up after all.” Your voice sounding a lot more meek now than earlier, clearly a different person outside of combat.

Leon raises an eyebrow at your request, but he nods nonetheless. He seems surprised to see you ask something like that of him. It’s a gentle gesture, but it clearly catches him off guard. “Sure, no problem.” He reaches around and unties your hair, doing his best to be gentle.

Once your hair is untied, he steps back. “Anything else you have in mind, dollface?” he asks with a teasing wink. To which you could only stare at him blankly, throwing a cloth and gauze pad at his face, harshly, before walking away to leave. Silently urging him to get his wound patched up already.

“Alright, alright!” Leon calls after you, laughing slightly as he holds the cloth up to his arm. He looks annoyed, but deep down he’s happy that you care. He takes a quick look at his wounded arm in the mirror, then heads toward the medical bay to get himself patched up.

Despite the competition and rivalry, there is a mutual respect between the two of you. And deep down, he knows he can’t help but care about you, even if he doesn’t admit it out loud. Nor does he want to admit it to himself.

You couldn't help but glare at the staff surrounding the area who clearly thought something was between you two. You long knew how much you used to idolize Leon, but now that everything was said and done, it dawned on you that you both simply respect one another, but didn't think too fondly of the other.

It was hard for you to explain it, even to yourself, but all you know is that they're colleagues who dislike both, yet still cared. Maybe just professionally. A secret loyalty, if you may. “Bye, Kennedy.” You waved off to leave the training grounds— walking a bit slowly as you approached the door. Leaving it to close on its own as you left. Leon could only roll his shoulders once you disappeared eyeing her trail in conflicted interest, caressing the skin of his arm that met yours as if to recall the sensation. Shutting his eyes with his head hung back as a guttural groan escapes his lips, displeased by his thoughts that began to shroud with images of you.

"Till next time, Dollface."

#is this lowkey forbidden romance too?#leon kennedy x reader #tsundere leon???#leon kennedy #resident evil smut #rivals to lovers #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #long reads #resident evil

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