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velvrei · 7 months

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Imagine Mike and reader are fighting the reader leaves which xause mike to start to loose his mind but Abby makes it her mission to get mike and reader back together.

this was originally a blurb but it got too long so i made it a fic!!

…

jokes aren’t funny

pairing : mike schmidt x reader

summary : mike and reader are in a relationship & they get into a fight and later into a rough patch. abby makes it her mission to get them back to being happy together.

warnings : fluff, slight angst (little sad parts), swearing

word count : 1k+

story under cut to avoid long scrolling!

you and abby were very alike. the two of you had similar thought processes, the same imaginary friends, you both liked to dance, that’s why it was perfect for her when you and mike started dating. she finally felt like someone understood her in a way only girls could.

so, you and abby formed a friendship. you’d play together, you’d babysit her while mike was at work, and it was going great. up until mike’s work schedule started to affect his mood and the time both of you spent together. him taking the nightshift made it difficult for you to spend any time together.

so, one day when mike came home, and abby was supposed to be sleeping, you had a talk to him about it. that talk, however, quickly turned into an argument.

“i don’t understand what the problem is?” mike reasoned, louder than intended. when his volume increased, so did yours, and now you both were practically screaming at each other, which was the first time you’d ever done so.

you sighed and rolled your eyes, “because you’re not trying to understand? maybe if you looked from my perspective you’d realize how horrible it is for me to talk to your little sister more than i talk to you! i love abby dearly but i need quality time with you too, mike! i’m your girlfriend!”

mike rolled his eyes, trying to keep them open sense he had no sleep for the past 20 hours and was extremely grumpy.

“i’m sure you can survive without seeing me, y/n! i know i can. i don’t need to see you everyday to function properly!” mike said, somewhat shouting then dramatically letting his head fall onto the dinning room table.

“am i just some kind of joke to you, mike?” you asked, your eyes starting to fill with tears. it didn’t matter that you were about to start your period, you still felt betrayed and felt like mike didn’t care about you as much as you did for him.

“now where the hell did you get that from?” mike shouted, “i never said that!” his voice was filled with anger and your words couldn’t help but grow his annoyance.

“that’s what it feels like, that’s what you’re implying.” you said, before grabbing your coat off the couch. “let me know when you’re ready to treat me like your girlfriend. until then, i don’t know if i can be anymore.” your last words made him stand, as you left and slammed the door behind you.

mike swore loudly and sunk onto the couch, rubbing his hair with his hands in a stressed manner, not noticing the little girl peaking around the door frame of her room. “mike?” he heard her little voice and broke down into tears.

“what?” he said, mid sob, not wanting her to see him the way he was. abby walked out from her room, wrapped up in one of her blankets. she walked over to mike, unwrapped it, and placed it over him.

“where did y/n just go?” she asked, “and why were you guys yelling like mom and dad?” those words made him break down, he started sobbing, and it made him realize that he wouldn’t lose you that easily. he physically couldn’t.

abby could tell he didn’t want to lose you that easily, so she helped him come up with a plan. until that plan was executed, however, mike couldn’t sleep for days, and when he did, his dreams were all about you. marrying you,

it had been about 4 days after your arguments. no contact, no texts on your part. however, mike wasn’t expecting otherwise, because of your last words you said to him, so he had to make the move, the ball was in his court.

so, with abby at his side, he texted you.

y/n, i’m so sorry for everything. can you come over so we can talk in person?

and so you came over, and he apologized to you. and said that his job at the nightshift was over, because he chose you, over his job. and the fact that the building collapsed but that takes away the sentimental value.

and abby was happy, because she was able to help get the both of you together.

#mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #fnaf fluff #abby fnaf #five nights at freddy's #velvrei #trending #writing

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rjcollinsauthor · 2 years

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Prologue

There was a part of me that wanted nothing more than to take off this bright yellow dress, put on my pajamas and rewatch Pretty Little Liars. But I had to do this. I promised I would try for him. I looked over at the framed photo on my desk. A picture of my boyfriend Noah and I sat there, Noah freaking Grant. The most popular guy at Allen Prep was my boyfriend. If Jessica had never pushed me to ask him out, I wouldn't be here getting ready to go to his annual summer party. This year we will be starting the senior year as a couple. Maybe even going to the same college. Stop; you're getting ahead of yourself. You just started dating him.

I gave the yellow flowy dress a second look and decided to keep it on because I knew Noah would like it. I flat ironed my hair and put it into two braids. I didn't have the right products to do it properly, and there was no way my foster parents would buy me anything I needed. I put on a pair of white sandals, grabbed my purse, and walked out the door.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Mike, my foster dad, grumbled.

He doesn't even look at me as he sits in front of the tv, stuffing his face full of a half-frozen tv dinner with several cans of beer around him. He had a beer belly, balding hair, and pale skin with dirt all over his hands. He worked at the factory in town, just like everyone else in this town. He used to shower a few times a day to get the dirt off but eventually gave up.

"Out," I said, opening and closing the door behind me.

He doesn't care if I leave or not. He wanted to make sure I didn't run away again. If I do, the checks stop coming. Jane, his wife, is working the third shift at the hospital. She's nice enough, and by nice, I mean she makes sure I eat daily.

Noah was leaning against his car. He's smoking a cigarette but puts it out once he sees me coming. I wished he'd stop smoking. I've asked him to, but he's refused. At least he's considerate enough to stop when he's around me. He dropped the cigarette on the ground, and I quickly picked it up and threw it in the little trash can in his car. I see him shaking his head and giving me that beautiful smile of his. I get butterflies every time. Hell, I get them when he's even in the same room with me. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.

"I missed you," he muttered in my ear.

"I missed you."

"Are you ready for tonight?"

I nodded.

"Don't be nervous. Everything will be okay. I've got you, remember?"

"I trust you."

A pained expression crossed his face, but it was gone a second later, and his smile was back. He opened the door for me, and I slid in. He closed my door and went to the driver's side, and started the car.

We drove away from my house and towards his house. It's depressing to see how much his neighborhood differs from mine. The change is immediate. From corner stores and liquor stores on every block turns into libraries and high-end grocery stores. When I got the scholarship to Allen Prep, this was all a huge culture shock. Sometimes it still is.

We got to his house, two stories high, with a basketball court and pool. The party was bigger than I imagined; either I didn't pay enough attention at school, or half of these people didn't go to Allen. Noah walked over and opened the door for me, and I stepped out into the hot California air.

"I thought you said it would only be kids from school?"

"And a little more."

We walked hand and hand inside his house. A few people were passed out on his lawn, and he didn't glance twice at them. We walked through the crowd of students from our school and people I'd never seen before. The people from our school glared at me when they thought Noah wasn't looking as we walked by. A lot of them believed I got a free pass. Because working my ass off all of middle and some of high school didn't do it for me. I know that part of the reason they accepted me was because of my back story. Two parents that didn't want her were bounced from foster home to foster home. But I didn't care if my history was the only reason I got in. I'm going to one of the top high schools in the world. Allen could open up so many doors for me that no other high school could. So using a sense of confidence I didn't know was there, I held my head high and kept walking.

"Is Randall here?" I asked.

"They're all here, but I've told them to leave you alone."

"Like they'll listen."

Randall, Scott, and Avery are Noah's best friends and the biggest fans of the 'I hate Lillian Thompson' fan club. They've been bullying me since the moment I walked in the doors of Allen Prep. It wasn't until Noah, and I became a couple that they left me alone. Sometimes. Noah made it clear to everyone, including his friends, that I was off limits.

Unlike Randall, Scott, and Avery, whose faces went from laughing to glaring as Noah and I sat together in the empty seat around them. Noah pulled me into his lap, holding me tight and kissing my ear. I leaned into him, and it felt as if the whole world quieted down, and it was only us at this moment. He was my everything.

I looked over at the guys, who looked disgusted that I was even in their presence. I'll never understand what I ever did to them. Since the moment I came here, I've kept to myself and focused on school. The only explanation I could come up with is they hate me the same reason the rest of the student body at Allen did. But sometimes, by how they looked at me, it felt like more.

"What's the plan tonight?" Noah asked.

"Chill, and then the main event," Jacob answered while sipping on a bottle of beer.

"Everything all ready?"

"Yep," Scott answered.

"What's the main event?" I asked.

"Just something happening later on.

I nodded and didn't ask for further explanation.

"How about we go up to my room?" Noah suggested.

I smiled and nodded. I got up and let him lead me to his bedroom. He had stuck me in a few times. When we walked into his bedroom, I was transported back to the night he took my virginity. It was only a few months ago, but it felt like yesterday. From what I've watched in movies and read in books, I expected it to be a quick wham bam, thank you, ma'am. I should have known Noah Grant didn't do anything fast or small. He treated me like a princess, whispering sweet nothings in my ear and praising me for taking him so well. The pain was nothing I could imagine, but the moment was everything I wanted and more.

Noah closed the door behind us. He walked over to me, pulling one of my straps down and kissing my shoulder. We made our way to the bed. I expected him to grab a condom, but he got on his knees and put my legs over his shoulders and his head between my legs. He wasted no time and sucked on my slit while fingering me. He was devouring me as I lifted my hips, not getting enough of his skillful tongue. It didn't take me long to come, and when I did, like always, it was euphoric.

"Do you want me to do anything?" I asked as I caught my breath.

He shook his head. I pulled him closer to me. I could feel and see how hard he was in his jeans.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

He wasn't looking at me.

"Do you want to go dance?" I asked.

"Sure, babe."

We walked back downstairs, and I felt my anxiety creep up. Noah made the DJ play a slow song and ignored the people who groaned. He pulled me in his arms, and we swayed together. I was shocked as a Glimpse Of Us by Joji started to play. When I asked for the dance, I expected it to be me grinding on him, not a slow dance. He held me tight as if he wanted to cherish this moment.

"Are you okay?" I lifted my head to look up at him.

"Yeah."

"You seem off."

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

He put a hand on the back of my head and lightly pressed me back to his chest. When the song was over, we danced to two more songs before I got tired.

"Can you take me home?"

He looked over at his friends, who were all still sitting in the same place. He and Scott seemed to have some silent bro conversion, and he looked back at me and nodded. We walked to his car, but before we could get in, he pulled me in his arms and kissed me. This kiss didn't feel like any kiss we'd had before. When he kissed me, he kissed me as if it was the last time. He gripped the sides of my face moving his thumbs across my cheeks before letting go.

"I love you." He said, shocking me.

I looked up at him, stunned, but without missing a beat, I said it back. He opened my door for me, and I got inside. It took him a few seconds longer than usual to get in, but when he did, I didn't question it. I was being paranoid. That's why he was acting weird. He must have been nervous to say he loved me.

"Do you mind if we stop for food real quick?" He asked.

"Sure."

He was gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual. He pulled into a fast food driveway and ordered. I didn't get anything. I don't think my stomach could handle it. My nerves were so bad I was doing my best not to shit myself. Once Noah got his food, I expected him to drive off, but instead, he parked and ate it. It was the slowest eating I have ever seen. We stayed there for at least thirty minutes before he started the car again, and we left.

"I had a great time tonight," I said.

We were a few blocks from my house, and he hadn't said a word.

"I'm glad."

Despite the anxiety, tonight was better than I expected. I had everything I could wish for. A best friend, a boyfriend, and going to a great school. For the first time in my life, I had someone who loved me. It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough. Noah was my everything. I held his hand as he drove with the other. As we turned toward my street, I saw fire trucks and an ambulance; as we got closer, I saw that they were at my house. We reached the place where neighbors had come outside to watch as the house I had called my home for the last few years burned to the ground. When Noah stopped the car, I rushed and ran toward the house.

"Miss, you can't go in there!" A firefighter yelled.

"That's my house!"

"You're Lillian Thompson?" A police officer approached me.

"Yeah."

He reached to his side and grabbed a pair of handcuffs. In just a second, my life changed forever. The cop put the handcuffs on me while reading my rights. I would later go to the police station to find out that I was convicted of arson and murder. My foster father was in the house when it burned down. As the officer led me to a nearby police car, I saw Noah was still there, but he wasn't alone. Scott, Randall, and Avery were all standing with him, smiling at me. Only Noah wasn't smiling; he didn't seem to have any emotion as he watched me being put into the car.

He didn't do anything, just stared at me. At that moment, I had the most significant realization of my life. Noah didn't love me. He never did. I didn't need any explanation; the look on their faces was enough. They did this to me. Why? What did I ever do to them?

Several emotions ran through me. Heartbreak. Misery and a feeling I never thought I could possibly have. Rage.

#romance #writers on tumblr #writing #fiction #dark romance #reading #dark academism #secret #secret society #bookstagram #booklover #bookaddict

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

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after death do us apart

Summary: Levi thinks his house is haunted.

Levi is in his kitchen, busy with a very important task of measuring leaves for the tea when he hears a loud, obnoxious thud, coming from his living room.

He softly curses, grabs his cane and rushes, as fast as he can with his body not as strong as it was before, there.

When he arrives, he sees that everything else is in order, except a picture frame that is now lying on a floor.

Levi's blood boils, an annoyance bordering on anger rushing through him. This picture - that one that now lies on the floor like some kind of useless shit - is his most priced possession. It is the only thing that keeps the memory of them alive, the one thing that reminds him during cold and dark nights that he might be alone right now, but there was a time where he wasn't.

It's a picture of him, Hange, Erwin and Mike all standing together with their arms around each other. He doesn't remember if that had ever happened, but that's what he had found in one of Moblit's notebook and after he made that discovery, he just couldn't leave it behind.

No picture of them exists - Mike and Erwin were gone even before they found out what a photo camera was, and in her last years, Hange was always too busy to take a single photo.

He regrets it now, not pushing her to take it, but Moblit's picture is vibrant enough. He doubts a photo could capture their essence quite like his sharp eyes and skilfful hands could.

Onyakopon tells him there are more pictures of Hange now. There are portraits made by talented artists that paint Hange as the last Commander of Survey Corps or during her last moments on Earth.

They're hanged in museums and various memorials but Levi doesn't wish to see any of them. He doesn't care about them, those pictures - they were drawn by talented artists, and Levi doesn't doubt that.

But they never knew Hange, not like he did. So how could they come up with something worthy of the light she bestowed on this world? How they could ever hope to put it on paper?

Levi crouches down, his bones and protesting, and picks up the picture frame.

Thankfully, it is still intact.

But just as his old, broken heart swells with relief, there is another thud. This time, the book falls down, nearly missing Levi's head.

He curses again, loud and vulgar, letting out the best of profanities the Underground taught him.

He whirls around, his eye searching for the offender. The room is empty, though. It's mostly silent too, the only sounds flowing around are those from outside his window. But then he hears it, a faint, feeble murmur that sounds almost like "sorry".

His heart clenches, his hand gripping the cane to keep himself grounded.

He knows that particular sorry. Heard many times many years ago - ehen he stumbled over the barely conscious, sleep deprived body, when his shirt got soaked in tea, soup or some kind of possibly dangerous chemicals, heard it repeating over and over as gentle, trembling hands inspected his injuries and wiped away the blood.

It was sometimes accompanied by cheerful, loud laughter, other times - with quiet, broken sobs.

He couldn't hear that sorry. He couldn't.

It was just a trick of imagination, nothing more, nothing less.

I am not old enough to go senile yet, he thinks as he puts the picture where it belongs to.

It was just a trick of imagination, he repeats and leaves the room.

He goes back to the kitchen and resumes his task. The skin on the back of his neck is prickling, like someone stares intently at it, but Levi chases that feeling away, convincing himself that he's simply being paranoid.

He pointedly ignores the quiet sound, the one that resembles a sigh of disappointment and the one he heard too many times too, during long nights at the lab and inside Commander's office, as well.

***

It's not the first weird (unexplained, she would say) thing that happened in his house. There are instances happening all over the place, each of them brings a different degree of strangeness

Windows and doors - close and open on their own volition, lights turn on and off, books, his clothes, kitchen ware - disappear for hours only to appear in the most random of places, bangs and knocks sound at all times of the day, merciless to his sleeping pattern.

Logically, he knows that it isn't normal. He also knows that he probably should talk about it with someone. But he was never good with that thing - talking. All the people he was somewhat comfortable sharing his troubles are now dead and gone.

He theoretically can discuss it with Gabi and Falco, but he doesn't want to, because, well, no matter how big they think they are, they're still children. Onyakopon is out of question too, because he might just get too worried and then send him into that building on the edge of the town - mental institution, he calls it.

And Levi might be old, but he's not senile. Yet.

Probably. He hopes so at least.

His mind is still his own, broken but not shattered. He knows right from wrong, sees the difference between reality and a dream.

He still functions properly, and yet those instances don't back away.

He'd ignore it, write it off as a product of imagination or strange coincidence. If only it happened once. Or twice. Three times even. Three weird happenings in a row is hard, but possible to ignore. But when it happens every damn day, for almost dozen times, it's not just hard to ignore. It's fucking annoying too.

He knows a name he can put to describe it all, of course. Born and raised in the depth of Underground, how can he not? Stories like this were well known and greatly appreciated down there. They were children of the dark, after all, friends with shadows. Everything dark and scary, anything feared above their little world was welcomed and encouraged.

Isabel used to warn him about enraged, vengeful spirits that hunt those who wronged them or those who disturbed their resting place. Kenny - when he was in a less shitty, kinder mood - used to tell him about souls that die without fulfilling their purpose and were destined to roam through the land of the living for all eternity, unable to sleep with their business unfinished.

Before putting him to bed or whenever she felt especially sentimental, his mother used to speak of those unlucky ones who died before their loved ones did.

"They cannot find peace even in death," she said. "And so they come back to our world and stay close to the ones they still cannot let go, watching them until they are able to reunite."

He never believed in those stories, though. Perhaps, he was born and raised in the Underground, but he got out of it, lived his best years with the sun shining on his face and wind blowing through his hair.

He thought ghosts doesn't exist.

But now that his best years are behind him, now that he has seen enough shit to know that anything is possible, now that some days he himself feels like a ghost, he starts thinking of them more and more.

Hange is gone, he reminds himself, she's gone and even though you miss her like crazy, it won't bring her back.

Hange is gone, and none of it is real.

But, god, does he really wishes that it was. *** It is the middle of the night, and Levi feels a presence behind him. It's not ominous like in that book about ghosts he recently found. It's quite soothing, actually. It makes him almost content.

It's not looming or hoovering over his form either. It's right next to him, as though this something - or someone - lays on a bed close to him.

It doesn't bother him anymore, nearly not as much as it did before. It brings him comfort, in some sort. It reminds him of-

No. It doesn't.

The presence behind him shifts and Levi feels the blanket slip from his legs.

No, that won't do.

He tugs the blanket back, but either he's getting too weak with age or that presence, ghost or whatever is so much stronger than him, but he can't get it back. They fight for it for a while, each struggling to get the upper hand. Levi yanks it back, applying all the force that's still left in him, but bears no result. He grits his teeth, sweat gathering on his temples as he pulls the blanket.

"Give it back, you little sh-"

He doesn't get to finish.

The loud, snapping sound of ripping cloth cuts him off.

"Fuck!" Levi yells, frustrated. It was his favorite blanket. "Is this so funny to you, you piece of shit? Why do you keep tormenting me?"

There is a bit of silence, and then lights in his room turn on. With wide eyes, Levi watches the paper levitate from a small pile on his desk. Pen appears next, and it hovers above the paper, the sounds of furious scribbling filling the dark room.

Before he can say anything else, shout more profanities or threaten the invisible fucker to get out (he may not be as strong as he was before, but he has a cane and he still knows how to use it effectively), the paper starts flying, catching him right in the face.

Levi takes it in his hands, squinting his good eye to see what's written there.

It IS funny, but i didn't wish to torment you. You know that, right?

Something resembling a sob escapes from his lips. Levi fists his hands into sheets below him, but eight fingers is apparently not enough to ground him and keep him from falling.

"Who are you?" he asks shakily, his voice breaking.

The pen starts moving again, flying over another paper. This one isn't thrown in his face. It's gently laid next to his thigh. Levi takes it, and his hands shake so much it gets hard to read. Words swim between his eyes, but Levi persists, laying the note on his lap and bending over to see better.

His whole world shakes when he finally deciphers the words.

Haven't you guessed already?

He closes his eyes and some sound escapes past his lips, he's not sure if that can be called a sob or a chuckle, or a combination of both, but his whole body is trembling as he tries to fight strength to whisper,

"Hange?"

From somewhere close to him, on his left side where she always used to be, he hears a delighted, happy laughter.

He looks around the room, his eye shifting, desperate to find her, but he sees nothing.

Fear grips at his heart.

So just a hallucination then? Simple wishful thinking?

"Where are you?" he murmurs, giving it all another chance. "Hange-"

"I'm here," a warm sensation travels up his forearm. It doesn't exactly feel like an ordinary touch would, but it's there, it seems real and it fills his chest with hope. "Right here, a little to your left," she continues. "Just look at me, Levi."

He does, immediately he does. But there is no one next to him. The gentle sensation doesn't fade, gets more persistent if anything, but Levi still can't see her.

"You need to look a little bit harder," Hange murmurs. "If you can hear me, I'm sure you can see me."

Levi stares, his eye focused on the empty place next to him. He strains his vision, moves his gaze up and down, huffs in frustration and then finally, finally, he sees something.

It's vague, indistinct, barely visible in the dark, but he makes out the outline of the body. He can see the mop of brown hair, and they're messy as always, can see strong arms and wide shoulders, that long, prominent nose, that rosy, soft lips that are stretched out in a hopeful smile, those brown, sparkly he missed so much.

"Hange," he breathes out, his voice barely above whisper.

He wants to touch her, god, he wants to touch her so much, but when he puts his hand above hers, it goes right through her.

"The situation is not exactly perfect," Hange laughs. "I don't think you can touch me, and I can't exactly touch you as well."

"I don't care," he shakes his head and moves his fingers, until his and Hange's are close. He doesn't feel much, but something warm is still there and it still makes his breath stumble.

Hange is here, she's not gone, not completely, she's here, with him. It is more than enough.

*** They fall into a sort of routine after that. It's easy with Hange, as it always was.

She disappears for short periods of time, refusing to tell Levi where she goes.

"They asked me not to tell you," she says enigmatically, and doesn't ever elaborate, no matter how many Levi asks.

At first, he still worries he's going crazy, but then Falco, Gabi and Onyakopon show up. They all sit down around the small coffee table in Levi's living room, chatting amongst themselves and sharing the last news and gossips.

"You look healthier," Falco remarks, as Levi brings the tea from the kitchen.

As soon as he puts the cups down, the chaos begins.

The door shuts with a loud bang, the windows rattle and chandelier above them starts to dangerously tremble.

Levi also notes that Hange is careful not to make any mess, but she still acts so damn loud. And dramatic. He hides a sigh as he continues to sip on his tea and watch Onyakopon, Gabi and Falco lose their shit in front of him.

Gabi ducks behind an armchair, Falco close on her heels, curling around her. Onyakopon keeps frantically looking around, his breath quick and shallow. Levi can almost hear the sound of his panicked heartbeat.

"Stop it, four-eyes," he murmurs, too softly to everyone else to hear (not that they could pay attention to him amidst all that clutter anyway).

Everything stills immediately. Silence washes over his apartment, interrupted only by Onyakopon's gasps.

Hange snickers beside him, but Levi is the only who can hear her.

"This was fun," she giggles, running a hand over his shoulder.

Levi can't disagree with her on that one.

"What was that?" Onyakopon exclaims, clutching his heart. "Was it-"

"A ghost?" Gabi cries out, looking both horrified and excited.

Levi glances at Hange, silently telling her 'she looks just like you'. She waves him off and turns back to Gabi.

"Is is the first time it happens?" Falco asks.

"No," Levi answers, shrugging. A week ago, he'd be as disturbed as his friends are, but now he moved past disturbance to acceptance to delight. "It's been happening for weeks now."

"You aren't safe here," Falco, bless his young soul, looks genuinely worried, down to the deep crease on his forehead. "We should look for another apartment."

"Don't bother. I'm quite comfortable here."

Of course, he's comfortable. Hange is here with him, after all.

"But!" Gabi tries to protest, but Levi silences her with a raised palm.

"I'm not injured or unwell," he gestures on himself, as if to illustrate his point. "And, besides, it gives house some character, don't you think?"

"A very scary character," Onyakopon notes.

"Well," Levi almost smiles, hearing Hange's laughter behind his back. "The house is not very different from its master then."

His guests leave soon after, but not before Gabi and Falco make him swear to call them if anything 'more dangerous and scarier' happens.

As soon as they're out, Levi sits down in his favorite armchair. Hange flies over to him.

"So," she looks up at him, and the bright sparkle in her eyes, even though it is still a bit indistinct, sets his heart racing. "Have I convinced you that you're not going crazy?"

He wants to ask how, opens his mouth even, but then promptly shuts it closed. Of course, it is Hange. She knows his thoughts better than he does.

And if he had any doubts about her realness, they've disappeared right in that moment.

*** Hange is almost always next to him, hovering over his shoulder and constantly chatting into his ear. It almost feels like the good old days.

Although now he can't kick her leg whenever she starts teasing or rambling too much. His trademark glare has to be good enough, though.

He brings Hange books and introduces her to all kinds of new technology. She is beaming like a child at every new thing he shows her, and Levi's heart is so full of love for that weirdo, he's afraid it's going to burst.

Hange accompanies him on his strolls too, and his poker face has never put to trial more than during those moments, when Hange starts joking or fooling around, making him almost lose all of his composure.

He can't laugh or even berate her in public, and she knows it, goddamn. And uses it for her advantage, the asshole.

Levi gets his revenge when they're back at his house, refusing to give her new books until she swears to behave.

She swears every time, hand on her chest and all that. And she breaks that promise the very same day. Levi can't stay mad at her, though. He never could.

*** "You know, I thought you were a vengeful spirit at first," he shares with her one evening.

He sits in front of the fire, his legs outstretched to the source of warmth. Hange is laying on the floor, book hovering above her. She closes and turns to Levi.

"I could be," she says. "But, unfortunately, the people I'd like to haunt are long dead as well. Floch is gone, Eren is too..." Hange scoffs, shaking her head. "And I can't very well haunt every bloodthirsty soldier back in Paradise. Too much work for the old, frail me."

Levi lifts an eyebrow. "You don't look that old to me. Especially, when compering with me..."

"Oh, Levi," Hange rises and gets closer to him. She sits down on his lap, and Levi feels warmth spread through the skin of his cheek as Hange puts her hand on it. There is a smile on her lips, the one that Levi knows too well. The one that means that Hange is going to say something very, very stupid. She opens her mouth and proves him right once again. "I was always more attractive than you," Hange murmurs. "Nothing changed since my death."

He rolls his eye and laments that he can't flick her nose.

Hange is still smiling, and when she leans in, he can almost feel a ghost of a kiss on his lips. *** "Don't you ever feel regret?" Levi asks one day.

He is sitting in his wheelchair, looking at the bright setting sun from the small garden near his house.

Hange is on top of him, her long legs dangling from the wheelchair. As he speaks up, she turns to him, and the happy expression turns into something more thoughtful.

"Regret?" she repeats, frowning. "What can I ever regret?"

"This?" Levi gestures around. "I know, you're still here, but don't..." he frowns, struggling to find the right words. "Don't you wish for something more? For us to have a proper chance?"

Hange looks up at the sky, and for a moment she's quiet. Levi thinks if he should take his words back, change the subject completely but it's something that's been bugging him for a long time. He's happy, so happy, that Hange can still be with him. But there are moments when he wishes for... more. To be able to hold her hand and share meals with her, to walk with her through the streets without worrying that someone might think he's some drunkard or lunatic who talks to himself.

He knows it's selfish to even think about it, he already received so much more than he deserved, but isn't selfishness an inherent part of a human?

Sometimes, he just can't help but long for something more.

"I'm sure you know what a method of trial and error means," Hange begins, looking back at him. Her words confuse him, but before he can open his mouth, Hange shushes him and continues. "Remember those days at my lab? Nothing ever worked out, every experiment turned into an ever bigger disaster than the previous one, and I was so frustrated I wanted to crawl up the wall. But there was a certain beauty in it all - I tried, I failed, I tried again. Over and over, until something good came out. And, boy," she chuckles. "When something worked, it worked perfectly. And, maybe, all of this, all of us," she swiftly runs her fingertips through his brow and Levi shivers at the warm, gentle feeling that spreads down to his soul. "As a failed attempt. We tried, it didn't work," she pauses, and her eyes are bright, much brighter than the sun behind her. "We can try again."

Her words stir something inside, a long forgotten feeling of hope. But he still can't accept it so easily, the cynic in him fights to make himself known.

"But you're already dead," he protests.

"And that means this attempt has failed. Not as spectacularly as that time when my experiment blew up and burned Moblit's eyebrows, but... not a perfect success either. We can try again, though. We can say goodbye, walk from each other and then meet again, in some other place and time."

"And what if we fail again?"

"Then we try again. And again, and again, until we can get it right. And when we finally do, oh boy!" she exclaims, flailing her arms into the air. "Wouldn't that be spectacular?"

She laughs, so happy and free, and Levi wishes to gather her in his arms and never let go. All he can do right now, though, is circle his hands around her waist, imagining that he's holding her.

Just like always, he trusts Hange.

They will meet again, and, maybe, it will all fall apart in a disaster worse than this one. But they can try again. They can keep trying, until... forever.

And, perhaps, that's the true beauty of life.

#not me ignoring all of my wips to write another barely comprehensible oneshot #ghost hange though!#we need more ghost hange lmao #levihan #levihan fanfiction

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angel-letters · 3 years

Text

snow days

PAIRING: levi ackerman x gender netural reader (can be taken as platonic or romantic)

DISCLAIMER: while not directly stated this story does deal with depression, and i understand that sometimes reading stories such as this one can make your own depression worse, so please feel no obligation to read it. your own mental health should be your priority. it is also important that if you are not feeling well that you reach out those around you, you’re not alone in your battle. there are also curse words, because apparently i can’t go without cursing.

WORD COUNT: 3551

DOLL’S NOTE: did i project onto this because my own therapy session was cancelled because of the snow and maybe the fact that i just hate the snow in general because it makes me feel crappy? maybe possibly, but what can you expect when i’m supposed to get 4-8 inches when normally we get less than an inch? also, before i got the chance to finish writing this i had to go work and while i was working i was reading the web comic the maid and the vampire, so as i was writing the last part of this i kept thinking of millard, like the feelings i have for that man, oh my. also, once again, a thank you to @setenuma for helping me edit this garbage.

The Writing Room!

You hated the snow. You hated the way the cold of it seemed to seep deep into your bones, how it made your limbs feel like lead, and turned your fingers blue. But most of all you hated the burden of memories and feelings that flooded into your mind with each new snow fall.

You still kept up with your duties, completing training drills and paperwork the way you had always done. Appearing perfectly fine and normal to those in the regiment that did not know you as well, but to those that did they noticed plenty the sloppiness that took place during training, noticing how you seemed to not care if you put yourself in a position that on an expedition would have gotten you killed. There was also the new found sense of heaviness in the air around you, like you were Atlas, carrying the world on your shoulders.

Slowly as the days turned colder and colder you found yourself distancing yourself from your comrades even more, opting to spend all your free time in your office alone completing paperwork instead of staying in the dining hall with the other high ranking officers and squad leaders, drinking tea and listening to Hange ramble for hours about new experiments and discussing new training exercises.

Most still tried to interact with you, trying to cheer you up, Hange would come and try and drag you off to help with an experiment, Mike would try and hold idle chit-chat with you, and Erwin would ask for your opinions on new formations in hopes of distracting you. However in the end all of them decided that it was best to leave you be and let you come to them when you were readly. Well everyone except one person.

Levi Ackerman.

The man refused to allow you a minute of solitude. Always finding you wherever you hid, two cups of tea in his hands and a stack of paperwork under his arm. Even if no words were spoken between the two of you, for you, however, it was the most calming part of your day, when it seemed that the bombardment of memories and feelings finally slowed down.

You and Levi had always had a special sort of bond, perhaps that’s why being in his presence had such a calming feeling for you. A bond that had developed when you yelled at Flagen for being much too harsh to them and consistently offered all three of the newcomers help whenever they needed it. Helping Isabel learn to tack up her horse, answering all of Furlan’s questions about the world above, and even sneaking a tin of tea leaves to Levi after hearing about his liking of tea from Isabel. Then when Furlan and Isabel were killed you were the one that took their wings of freedom from their jackets to give Levi. It was a small gesture but it’s one that led to you being the closest person to Levi other than Erwin.

It was another one of those days where you had hidden yourself away in your office, busy signing and filling out paperwork when your door was opened, not bothering to look up as a familiar voice rang out into the room.

“Get your ass up brat, Erwins called an emergency meeting for some shitty reason,” the raven haired man grumbled, arms crossed as he leaned his back and right foot up against the door frame, staring across the room at you with steely grey eyes.

He was worried about you, yes, though he would never admit it out loud. Throughout all his time as a scout you had been one of the most consistent people he had ever met. You weren’t the cheeriest person around, but then again not many people in the scouts were (though it wasn’t without reason), but you had a kind soul and a warm smile that helped calm down even the most distressed soldier. The only problem with you was that you were secretive when it came to your own feelings. You would offer an ear and advice to any soldier that asked, but never did you let yourself show vulnerability, instead you hide yourself away until you can put a brave face on and Levi hated it. After everything that the two of you had gone through he felt like you knew more about him then he did you and he had tried everything to get you to open up to him. Asking Erwin to move your squad closer to his in the formations so that two of you could ride together, mixing most of your training exercise together, preparing tea for the two of you during late nights. He had placed himself within nearly every part of your schedule and you in his, but no matter how many inside jokes and late nights it still felt like you had a wall up that you refused to let down, even around him.

Placing the paper you had just finished on a stack to your right you placed the pen in your hand down as you stood up from your desk, and silently joined the shorter man at the door. A feeling like a knife went through Levi’s heart as you said nothing when before you would have come up with some sort of snarky remark to his jab. Instead of saying anything however he pushed himself off of the door frame and started down the hall, with you by his side, to Erwin’s office.

You sat at a large wooden table with the other senior officers. Erwin, as the commander, sat at the head of the table discussing the plans for the latest expedition outside of the walls, Mike sat to your left, Hange to your right (being loud as always), and Levi was directly across from you staring at you once again with those steely grey eyes of his. Normally you would have returned his gaze with one of your own, raising a brow and maybe throwing in a wink to make him roll his eyes and turn his gaze back to Erwin, but today you opted to turn your gaze downwards. Glancing at the papers in front of you attempted to read them, though you knew it was pointless, no matter how many times you read them over you never retained any of the information, similar to know matter how hard you tried to listen to what was being said you never seemed to be able to properly comprehend what was being said. It was frustrating to say the least.

“According to the weather experiments that Hange has been performing it appears that there will be a massive storm arriving within the next couple of days. That is why, after careful consideration, it has been decided that should a storm take place that all troops will be given the day, and following days off as it will be near impossible for any training to take place,” It was the last of Erwin’s announcements and though the blond spoke like he doubted the storm would take place, everyone knew that while often extravagant, Hange’s experiments often worked, with their weather experiments becoming fairly accurate in predicting the weather. So with the idea of maybe getting a little more sleep, and being able to escape your mind just a little, in a couple days you left the room with the others, returning to your office.

The storm that Hange had predicted did happen, starting with low howls of wind late in the night, as clouds burden with snow covered the sky, sending large flakes of snow down onto the earth. By the time that the sun had risen the next morning, though the winds had not calmed by much and the snow was still falling, large drifts of snow had formed around the scouts headquarters. With the lower ranked soldiers being informed of the day off, most stayed in the mesh hall, playing games of chess and idly chatting, while senior officers went to their offices, attempting to catch up with overdue paperwork now that they had a day not filled with training drills. You however were a different story.

You had woken up just as the sun was rising to be greeted with frosted window panes, and a chill that seemed to speed in from the outside, numbing your body even with the fire that was still going in the fireplace. The fatigue that was filling your mind also did not help the chill that had crept into your body, making you want nothing more than to sleep, and perhaps you could. Erwin had said that when the storm blows in they would all be given the day off, so perhaps, just once, you could give into your mind and just sleep. Yes a part of you screamed that no matter how bad you feel, no matter how hard it is to bury everything you’re feeling, you need to get up, go and eat breakfast and do your work. But the thought of food had your stomach in a knot and the thought of paperwork brought back the image of fog whenever you had been working the past days. So before you could tell yourself no you sank back into your bed and pulled the blanket up and over your head and went back to sleep.

Levi was in a panicked mood to say the least, though it did not appear so if anyone were to comment. He had waited for over an hour for you to appear in the mesh hall, and when you hadn’t he had merely shrugged it off as a day that you weren’t hungry (he’ll bring some bread alongside the tea he normally brings later), but slowly as the day went on and as he continually went back and forth between all of the places you went to be alone and his own office, you were nowhere to be found. He had checked the library, Mike, Hange, and Erwin’s offices, the storage closet on the east wing, he had even braved the cold weather and checked the stables. So now with just one place left, if he didn’t find you he was going to raise a high alarm, after all it was already late into the afternoon and not one person had seen you all day, if that wasn’t a reason to worry or panic then he didn’t know what was.

Arriving in front of the room that had you shared with Hange (though it was more of just your room as they tended to sleep in their lab), he tried the handle, finding it unlocked (thankfully he didn’t have to kick the damn thing down, he let himself into the room. Shivering slightly as he walked in, automatically noticing the dying fire in the fireplace, however he quickly turned his gaze to the bundle of blankets on the bed. Pushing the door shut with his hand he quickly turned the lock before he walked slowly towards the bed. Reaching his hand out to grab the blanket, he hesitated, was this the right thing to do? Should he bother you like this? But before he could decide to leave (he doubted that in that state you were that you had even noticed him) he remembered something, a promise the two of you had made.

The night sky had shone so bright that night, if felt like it was mocking him, with each night since their passing not even a cloud crossed the night sky. He may have chosen not to regret anything that happened, chosen to follow the man he had been sent to kill, but that didn’t mean grief did not find its way into his heart. As his mind clouded, silent tears falling down his cheeks, the sound of a cup being placed next to him startled him. Jumping to his feet, his hand reaching for the knife in his pocket, he was surprised to find you there, laughing softly as you held a cup out to him. Eyeing you suspiciously he glanced between the cup and you.

“It’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re thinking, I would drink it to prove it to you, but as much of a clean freak you are I don’t think you would appreciate that now would you?” Rolling his eyes he sat back down, (in the same spot he had sat every night he had come up here with Furlan and Isabel) taking the cup gratefully, though still eyeing you as you rested you arms on the way, now holding your own up between your hands, eyes aimed towards the sky.

He couldn’t help but wonder why you went through all the trouble, why you’ve gone out of your way since he first arrived, to try and befriend him (if that’s what you were trying). Even after knowing he had joined the scouts to kill one of your own friends, you had still cared enough to hand him the bloody wings of freedom that had belonged to Furlan and Isabel, and every day you made sure to greet him when passing by, or even dragging him off to train with your squad, because (and he could quote it), ‘Flagen’s an ass and you won’t learn anything from him’. Now even, you had sought him out in the middle of the night, when he was at his lowest, to offer him a cup of tea. Why, what were you gaining from this? Most everyone else still treated him like an outsider, so why were you so kind?

“You’re wondering why aren’t you? Why am I so kind to you?” you mused softly, speaking his thoughts out loud for him. Looking his way, you met eyes briefly before he turned his gaze away, silently answering your own questions. Another small laugh escaped you as he avoided your gaze.

“There’s no reason, if you must know, no reason other than I don’t think that you should be alone after everything that happened.” He scoffed at that, causing you to laugh once more, humans were selfish creatures, that much was true, so you had to have a reason, something that you wanted, but for the time being he would indulge you, you were rather calming to be around (and not just his curiosity getting the better of him). So he sat silently, occasionally speaking up, as you talked about random things to fill the silence. The two of you stayed like that for several hours into the night, and it wasn’t until you both were finally heading to bed to get the few hours of sleep that you could before you would be required to be up and training, did he ask what the both of you knew had been on his mind all night long.

“What do you get out of this, what do you want in return? And don’t say nothing, everyone wants something.” You smiled softly nodding as you thought carefully.

“I really do want nothing, but if it satisfies you, I’m doing what I would want someone to do for me if I were in your shoes, so why don’t we say that what I want in return is for someone to kick me in the ass if I ever appear to lose hope in everything, okay? Does that work as an answer for you?”

Though shock coursed through his body, he rolled his eyes, letting out yet another scoff among thousands that he had made during the night, muttering, “I suppose that works.”

“Great, then it's a deal. I keep annoying you and in return if I ever get mopey and depressed I expect you to kick me in my ass and tell me to get over it,” you said, laughing all the while.

‘If I ever get mopey and depressed I expect you to kick me in my ass and tell me to get over it.’ That was what you said, so while you may end up being momentarily pissed at him for what he was about to do, you could only blame yourself, after all you were the one who said he could do it.

Grabbing the blanket with both hands he gave a hard tug as he pulled it off of you, shaking you awake. As the sudden cold hit your body and light flooded your face, blinding you, you blinked your eyes quickly, trying to adjust to the sudden light while giving Levi a look of, ‘what the hell are you doing?’

“You look like shit,” Levi said once you met his eyes, and it was true. Your hair was a mess, your eyes bloodshot and swollen, tear streaks running down your face, your skin looked duller than normal, but those were not the things that shocked Levi. The look of absolute defeat, of brokenness shook him to his core, never had he seen you look so small and helpless, causing him to yell at himself mentally for not realizing how badly your mental health had become.

“Yeah, yeah, now what do you want,” you eyed the blanket that he had ripped away from you longingly, but made no move to try and take it back, your arms felt too heavy to move, pushing yourself to sit was hard enough.

“I’m here to get your lazy ass up, seeing as you decided to sleep all day.” You raised your eyebrows, glancing to look at the window, to see that long shadows had started creeping across the land outside of your window, the sun would be setting soon.

Sighing, Levi draped the blanket over the headboard, reaching a hand out to gently grasp your chin to turn your gaze back to him, “What’s wrong brat?”

“Nothings wrong, I just decided to sleep all day. What's wrong with that.” While you still denied it, one look, however, he could tell it was a lie. From the way your eyes watered and refused to look at any part of him, knowing that you would cave if you looked directly at him and not wanting to burden him with your own memories and feelings, he already dealt with more than his fair share.

“Don’t lie to me. And if I must remind you, you gave me special permission to beat your ass if you ever got like this.”

“I-,” you finally met his eyes, seeing for the first time the amount of worry that shone behind them, “fine,” you mumbled, slipping out of his grasp and resting your back against the wall, staring at your hands as you gathered you thoughts, trying to find a place to start. Slipping his boots off Levi joined you on the bed, resting against the headboard, arms crossed as he waited patiently.

Once your thoughts had been gathered you started speaking, telling the story of all the people you could never save. Your fellow cadets that had graduated from the same cadet corps as you, joining you as a scout (there had only been five of you who had joined that year), all of whom had died during their first expedition, leaving you alone. Of fellow squad mates that were killed saving you, fresh new cadets that you were given to train that never made it through their first expedition. The guilt you felt from not being there to save Furlan and Isabel. The screams of mothers when told that their child was dead and never returning home. Then finally, as your voice became shaky and tears had filled your eyes until you could no longer see clearly, you told him of your siblings. Of the snowstorm that rolled through your hometown, of the argument you had with your parents, how you had left right before the storm had it, leaving for a friends house, and how your younger siblings had gone out in the storm to search for you only to not be seen again until spring, about the blame your parents had placed on you, and the blame you placed on yourself. You told him everything as he sat silent, watching as your highest wall crumbled and fell to the ground.

He had known you were a kind soul, but he had never realized just how kind you were, how much you cared for people, and how much you blame yourself for not saving people who could not be saved. Stepping out of his comfort zone you reached his arms out, wrapping tightly around your torso as he pulled to his chest, whispering soft affirmations, and speaking of all the lives you had saved. And as he held you in his arms, speaking to you and rubbing calming circles on you back as you fell apart before him and sobbed your heart out, you realized something. You weren’t in this alone in any of this pain, there were others all around you who felt the same, friends, strangers, so many people in your own life who had also lost others and shared in the same grief and pain as you. You realized that as long as you reached out to those you cared, you would never be alone.

Wrapping your arms around the dark haired man, between your sobs, you whispered out a small thank you, for caring, and for reaching out.

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marmolady · 3 years

Text

The Wreckage of What Was

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC

Summary: Rourke Ending. An explosive encounter with the woman who was once her wife has left Taylor shattered.

Word Count: 3528

Chronology: Directly following on from 'There Was This Girl'. Read that one first!

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic

Curled up under the covers, her head tucked in against her chest, Taylor closed her eyes tighter, ignoring the knocking on her apartment’s door. Or, at least… she tried to. She wasn’t sure of the time. There hadn’t been much point in checking; she wasn’t going anywhere. It mattered little if she fell behind in her classes. Straight A’s wouldn’t free Varyyn and his people from Rourke’s enslavement. Nor would they allow Jake and Mike to stop running, to come home. Nor cure Quinn’s Rotterdam’s. And they sure as hell wouldn’t make Estela know her again. Love her again. Tears prickled Taylor’s eyes. The skin around her eyes and nose was red raw from crying, from being wiped and dabbed by what felt like enough tissues that she could call herself personally responsible for the felling of a small forest. Still, the tears came, because the all-encompassing sadness, the helplessness, just didn’t stop.

“Taylor! You can’t just hide in there forever!”

She didn’t want to see Diego. It made no sense to her that he didn’t loathe her. She’d been the one with the deciding vote, and it was she alone who could’ve fixed everything… if only she’d had the guts. Taylor saw herself as a coward; the one responsible for every wrong Rourke inflicted on this world. Diego had trusted her, and Taylor had chosen the path that tore him from Varyyn’s arms, and torn everything else from Varyyn in the process.

“TAYLOR!”

Then Zahra’s voice cut across him. “For fuck’s sake….” There was a creak as the door swung open, then approaching footsteps.

“Tay?” Diego called, right at her door this time.

Taylor’s groan of frustration turned into a roar, and she sat up in bed.

“You’re not great at taking hints are you?” She knew she was being unnecessarily mean, and she hated herself for it. But the fact was, she’d done enough to make him miserable without him being sucked into the black hole of despair she seemed to have become.

Diego pushed the door open. If he was hurt, it didn’t show on his face. His eyes were just sympathetic… kind. It was kindness she didn’t deserve.

“I think you know you can’t shake me that easily,” he said airily. “Have you eaten today? It’s after three.”

Avoiding eye contact, knowing how much of a mess she looked, Taylor sighed. “I haven’t been hungry,” she said, her tone flat. It was true. She’d barely touched a thing since everything with Estela had blown up spectacularly in her face. To get up and eat something, she’d have to find the energy to move, and for the most part, that had been eluding her.

Diego disappeared back out the door, and some rummaging-sounds later, returned with a plate of crackers and dip. He approached the bed and sat down on the edge… close enough to make it known he was there for Taylor, but not close enough to be pushy.

“Look, I know you don’t have any appetite right now,” he said, “but something small is better than nothing. Think you could do that… for me?”

Taylor huffed a little, and tidied up her hair as well as she could manage without going so far as rummaging for a brush. She looked her friend in the face, properly, for the first time since he showed up. He looked worried. Really worried.

It had been four days. Four days since Taylor had taken a great leap of faith, and fallen. For a little while there, it had actually been easy; having Estela near had felt natural, even if few words were ever exchanged. But Taylor had misjudged things, badly. There had been some… charged looks between the two of them…. moments where time slowed, and suddenly it was her old Estela seeing her, maybe even wanting her. It had been wonderful. If only it weren’t for that creeping knowledge that she was taking advantage; Taylor knew Estela, Estela didn’t know Taylor. The dishonesty of it all had troubled Taylor to the point of spurring her to action… and spilling all.

Obviously, Taylor had sounded deranged. She’d known that before she so much as opened her mouth to start, but her crazy story was the only truth she had to offer. Going on about Rourke changing history-- what the hell kind of reasonable person wouldn’t think Taylor had lost her mind? And Estela… well, Taylor already knew that Estela had no patience for anyone trying to screw with her. She hadn’t been ready, though, for the anger. She’d seen that anger in Estela’s eyes before, but never dreamed it could ever be directed her way. And, oh, it had hurt.

“You’re too good to me,” Taylor mumbled. Reluctantly, she reached out and took a cracker. For Diego.

“What best friends are for, right?”

Taylor put on a valiant, if ultimately sad, attempt at a smile. However much she might have felt it for the best, she simply didn’t have the heart-- nor the energy-- to push Diego away. “Well, what’s your plan?” she asked. “Sit me in front of Shrek until I believe in true love again?”

And so, they huddled under a duvet and watched Shrek. The dragon set Taylor off crying again, but it was generally a good distraction while they ate. Once the crackers were polished off, Diego nipped out to grab some ice cream-- the fancy kind usually reserved for Very Bad Days. It was a rare and potent breed of sadness that couldn’t at least be tempered by ice cream, but it seemed that Taylor was afflicted with just that. Even if the pain in her heart couldn’t be lessened, though, she was grateful for Diego… far more than she could say.

Her bowl empty and the movie done with, there was little for Taylor to do but to wallow in her own thoughts. The very same that had been so intent on dragging her under. At least now, though… at least she wasn’t alone with them.

“I’m… so lost,” she croaked after a long while, her voice hoarse with emotion.

“Yeah?” Diego rubbed her arm comfortingly. “I… I get that.”

Taylor looked down into her empty bowl, contemplating everything. No matter how many times she turned things over in her head, she always came out confused. The path forward-- if there even was one from this hell she’d unleashed-- was tangled with thorns and riddled with dead-ends and traps. She’d been stumbling through, fearful of causing even more damage while knowing that everything she cared for rested on her success.

“I feel like… maybe I was wrong? Maybe it wasn’t right to just blurt everything out? I mean, you remembered, didn’t you? Maybe if I’d just left it… she might have just… worked it out herself. It’s not like there’s a fucking hope of her remembering me if I’ve scared her off….”

“Hey. Our Estela doesn’t scare easily. And you know what? Maybe the fact that you sounded absolutely batshit crazy will help in the long run. You’ll stick in her mind.”

“And what if… what if what I’m trying to is actually… is actually just going to make me the person who hurts her most?”

Diego’s brow furrowed. “You’re losing me.”

“What if she’s better off? I know she felt so betrayed when I took this path but….” Taylor roughly ran her hands through her hair. This had been damn near driving her crazy. “She’s got her mom back, Diego…. It’s like her mom was never murdered. If I wasn’t so selfish, if I just let her be… she’d never have to feel that pain.”

For a few moments, Diego pondered; a couple of times he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, as if not quite sure of what to say. At last, though, he just came out with it. “I think… I think you’re just grasping onto another excuse to beat up on yourself. I’m sorry, Taylor.”

“Wha--”

“You heard,” Diego said firmly, obviously finding his resolve to really help as he looked Taylor right in the face. Even if it was hard for her to hear. “And honestly? I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking about. When we were up on that rooftop, did Rourke even try and win Estela over using her mom as a bribe? No-- because he knew that would only make her fight him harder.”

Taylor exhaled through her hand, now pressed against her face as she wrestled with her thoughts. Diego… had a point. “She’d have broken his freaking nose, then and there.”

“Exactly!”

“So, what does that mean? That I’ve failed and there’s no consolation?”

“I think,” Diego said, calm and steady, “that we’re in for a long haul. But I also think that there’s a part of Estela that really, really misses you, even if she doesn’t know what it is. Like… even before I remembered, I could feel something was missing. And I was drawn to you. Even if Estela thinks you’re crazy, you’re still that person she fell in love with a couple-thousand times over.”

“You’re betting an awful lot on Estela falling for the person who, by all appearances, is nothing but a delusional stalker.”

Shadows of sorrow crossed Diego’s eyes. “Well, I’ve got to. There’s… not really much else.”

Taylor snuggled close, squeezing her friend… the only one she had left, and one she could not be convinced she deserved. But she was all he had, too.

“I know… I know this is all making you crazy. And I know a big part of you hates yourself for making the call you did. But hiding in here and beating yourself up isn’t gonna do anything but make you feel worse. However much you think you deserve to feel that bad, I can’t let you give up. I can’t.”

Her friend’s words made Taylor wince. There really was no option; she simply had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Keep putting on a smile to should-have-been friends while her heart was quietly breaking.

Diego took a long exhale. “So. You can have today, and you can have tomorrow. But then, you pull yourself together. There are too many people counting on you for you to go to pieces now.”

Taylor nodded, and tears dripped down onto her lap as Diego held her. Being there for him meant letting go of her own self-loathing, however hard it was. If he still believed she had it in her to fix this fucking mess, she’d fight to her dying breath. The floodgates had opened, and she cried and cried, feeling everything she knew would soon have to be quashed back down. His own eyes spilling, Diego kept on rubbing her arm, supporting her always.

Messily wiping her face on her sleeve-- it was already crusty with tears and snot anyway-- Taylor gathered herself. Deep breaths. In… and out.

“I really miss her,” she said after a long while, soft as a whisper. To say it loud just made it bigger, and it was already tearing her apart. But if she was moving forward, that pain had to be expelled… else it swallow her. “And it just… aches. When things got scary-- and to be honest, when were things not scary?-- she’d just… slip her hand into mine, and hold me. It’s been months-- I know it’s been months-- but I can’t keep myself from half-expecting her fingers to wrap around mine, and just like that… make everything better.”

Without a word, Diego took Taylor’s trembling hand in his own, his thumb stroking tenderly.

When he closed his eyes, Taylor knew he was imagining Varyyn holding his hand. And as she closed her own, Taylor let herself, for just a moment, be held by Estela.

On return to reality, Diego’s face was wet with tears. He offered Taylor a watery smile. They were in this together.

“Hey,” Taylor said shakily. “Will you… will you stay?”

“I’ll stay.”

________________________

True to her word, Taylor forced herself out of the apartment come the day after next. Hard as it was, if she didn’t keep up with her studies, she’d risk losing her place at Hartfeld, and any hope she might have of reconnecting with her loved ones. Winter had set in, and for most students, life consisted of hurrying between one heated lecture theatre and the next, or sheltering in the library, cafe, or student union building. It seemed every heater on campus was mobbed by a tight circle of students, and the queue at every coffee outlet busy. Taylor joined the masses, huddled up in the library with a long-awaited coffee and a heavy text book. It would be all too easy to let the gloomy weather negatively impact her already fragile emotional state, so the best thing she could think to do was surround herself with activity.

Her mind strayed to its usual fretting-- about Estela, about Diego and Varyyn, about--

Taylor yelped as hot coffee burned her mouth. She knew the library’s drinks always came out piping, and cursed herself for being so goddamn distracted. Cheeks flushing, she set down her cup.

“Are you okay?” asked a familiar, kind voice, hoarser than it should have been. Quinn had turned around from a bookshelf, concern upon her pale face. “They do go a bit over the top temperature-wise here. I’m guessing you’re used to the coffee shop?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Taylor replied ruefully. “But no, I should know to be careful by now. Sadly, I just felt something warm between my hands and all rational thought deserted me.”

Quinn laughed, which, to Taylor’s horror, brought on a fit of hacking coughs.

Oh, Quinn.

Around the campus, Quinn was easily the most elusive of the group; quite an achievement when Estela insisted on keeping herself as inconspicuous as possible. It was a constant worry for Taylor and Diego, knowing what they did about their friend’s illness. Logic told them that if circumstances around her had changed little with Rourke’s interference, Quinn might be expected to survive at least until the end of junior year, but all appearances made it clear she was in a very bad way. Weeks could go by without either of them catching a glimpse of Quinn around the place, and it was downright frightening.

“Hey-- sit down,” Taylor urged gently. “Don’t want us both to hurt ourselves over my lack of judgement.”

Quinn sank into the chair beside Taylor and struggled to catch her breath. A fearful Taylor hopped up and started rubbing her back.

“Do you want to grab you a glass of water?”

“I’m okay-- kff-- I just need a-- kff-- a moment….”

Frustration was clear upon Quinn’s face. Not wanting to be over-bearing, Taylor eased back… but those coughs sounded so painful….

Slowly, Quinn got control over her coughing. “Better…,” she said, eyes closed. She opened them slowly, and offered her companion a shaky smile. “It’s Taylor, isn’t?”

“Yup, that’s me. Quinn, yeah? I haven’t seen you around in a while?”

Quinn’s smile became stronger, as though she was genuinely delighted to be remembered by what was a passing friendly face. “The colder weather hasn’t been doing my health much good. The school’s understanding; what can be done from home I don’t have to come in for. But sometimes I just want to brave it and actually be a part of everything.”

“Yeah?” Taylor said, “that’s understandable. All this dreary weather… it has its way of making loneliness hit even harder.” She pursed her lips a moment. “Look, if you ever want a study buddy…? You could even stop by my place-- not to be presumptuous or anything, but it might be more comfortable than having to fight for a spot by the heater here.”

A shadow passed over Quinn’s face, her smile growing sad. “That’s really kind of you to offer, and-- honestly?-- I’d love to take you up on it. I just… well, things are quite difficult for me right now.”

“It’s okay-- no pressure. I just want you to know that you’ve got a friend on campus if you need one.” Sitting back down beside Quinn, Taylor picked up her mug and gingerly took a sip. Much better. “Do you have any more classes today?”

“Oh, just the one,” Quinn said more brightly, clearly relieved at the change of subject. “I’m taking Visual Arts. I do a bit of painting-- not really seriously, more just for me. I was a little worried that study would take some of the fun out of it, but it’s turned out to be the bright spot in my schedule. If I can make it in person for anything, I always aim for Visual Arts.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it,” said Taylor, and she took another, braver, sip of coffee. It was all useful information-- apparently this would be the most likely time of week to have a surprise Quinn encounter. More importantly, it was reassuring to know that it was not, in fact, all doom and gloom. “I’ve got to head off for my Introductory Chemistry practical in about ten minutes. Painting sounds a lot more fun-- wanna trade?”

Quinn just laughed.

Yeah…. Thought not.

_____________________________

As a general rule, Taylor didn’t actually mind Chemistry that much. It wasn’t exactly her bag; the equations had a habit of drifting in one ear and out the other, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. What made it painful now, was Estela.

A few weeks ago, Taylor had been overjoyed to have been placed in a group with the woman who had once been her wife, but a lot had changed since then. Estela had furiously warned Taylor to stay away, and Taylor had done just that, both out of respect for the wishes of someone she loved, and out of plain fear that she might fuck it all up further. There was no crossing the quad to avoid this one, though.

It was as uncomfortable as Taylor had anticipated. Estela looked right past Taylor, directing all communication to their third group member, who seemed oblivious to the tension. Taylor wasn’t sure how-- the air was so fucking thick with it she could barely breathe. Her hands shook as she measured out materials, and it was by virtue of a lucky save that she didn’t drop a test tube of chemicals onto the floor.

Everything in Estela’s body language, in her expression, screamed that she’d rather be anywhere else-- anywhere at all-- than there working alongside Taylor. The feeling was mutual. Taylor watched the minutes pass by agonisingly slowly as they slogged through the experiment. If she had to speak, it was only the bare minimum to get the work done. Never, never had she felt more alone in Estela’s company. She’d experienced indifference before, indifference that had fueled her longing until it hurt like a physical wound. But now Estela regarded Taylor not as a person of little consequence, but as a threat, and that was far, far worse. Trying not to wither under that fierce gaze, Taylor soldiered on, until finally, the experiment was concluded, and she was free to pack up… and head home for a stiff drink.

As she turned the tap to rinse the last of her test tubes and beakers, the water gushed with a sudden force, spraying Taylor down her front.

“Crap!” she cried. It was near freezing outside, and to have a clothes sopping wet would make for a very uncomfortable walk back to the apartment. Well… it was just her luck.

Taylor pulled off her jacket, and bit back a sigh. As her problems went, a bit of cold and wet was pretty much nothing. Hell, if home, and Diego, and a pile of blankets was at the other end, she’d put up with far worse. Grumbling a little as she packed up her things, Taylor braced herself for a great rush to get between this warm shelter and the next. But as she stepped through the doorway--

“Wait!”

That voice made her turn. It always would.

“You’re going to catch your death. Tonta.” Estela rolled her eyes and shrugged off her hoodie. “Your shirt’s still wet. Here.” She thrust the hoodie into Taylor’s hands.

“You don’t have to--” Taylor stammered, utterly taken aback. Remember to breathe, you idiot!

“Taylor. Just put it on, will you? Unless you want to freeze.”

Getting over her surprise, Taylor took the hoodie. Discomfort was plain on Estela’s face, so she didn’t linger to make the exchange any more awkward. Just a smile of thanks… and they parted.

Taylor looked on, stunned and watched as Estela slung her bag over her shoulder and jogged into the shadows. A chill wind hit her, and she hastily pulled the hoodie over her head. It was warm, and the scent of Estela, heart-achingly familiar, lingered. A tear, just another in a long, long line, prickled Taylor’s eye as she breathed it in.

She brought the front of the hoodie to her face and closed her eyes against the scent and feel of home.

It wasn’t over yet.

#endless summer #rourke ending #estela montoya #estela x mc #playchoices #quinn kelly #diego soto

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none-but-y0u · 3 years

Text

i'm lying (because i love you)

saw this post by @draculcid a few days ago and couldn’t get it out of my mind. then proceeded to write 1k words of a fic but then my motivation to write left because of school and then i suddenly got a burst of inspiration last night and i'm almost probably gonna polish it up for ao3 later but for now, here's a continuation of this beautiful headcanon tw: abuse, bruises, billy went back home to neil's after star court bcuz it works for the purpose of the story. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

So billy drives max over to steve's every few days because steve's place is the unofficial meet up for the party's D&D nights. and max comes in and she's angry and brash and everyone is like ??? and mike yells at lucas to calm his girlfriend down and max yells back that she's not lucas' girlfriend anymore and lucas is like wait whaaaa???

and its one of those nights when steve’s really tired and every loud noise is making him jumpy and anxious and he just can’t deal with them today. So ofc he yells at the boys before turning to max. Goes to yell at her too but she’s hunched over and folded in on herself and this is a different type of angry than usual. It’s laced with fear this time. And she looks up at him when he asks her what’s wrong, but nothing comes out, so el moves to sit next to her. Squeezes her hand before turning to steve with those round eyes of her and says “old billy”

And that news just...hits him for some reason. Settles uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach because it’s been a few months since Starcourt and Billy’s lost all that Californian thrill that he used to parade around town with.

And steve used to see billy often after it first happened because he was max’s designated driver, so his name appeared on the hospital guest sheet almost as often as Max’s, and ten times as more than Neil’s. And it’s not like he and billy really ever spoke. More of a head nod at the beginning and end of each visit while max’s rambles filled the space between them.

But once Billy healed enough to leave, he just went back to Neil’s because apparently the government doesn’t care too much about a traumatized teenager in a small town in the middle of bumfuck indiana leaking military secrets to the press.

And Steve hated the idea of Billy going back to Neil’s because, well, because he had just gotten used to seeing Billy without the bruises, and he realized he kinda liked seeing the blues of billy’s eyes sparkling during his rare moments of happiness. And he definitely wasn’t ready to see the old bruises start to make their appearance again.

And yet. For whatever reason, his worry never seemed to come true. The bruises never returned and everything was normal.

But months passed and steve didn’t have a reason to be around billy anymore which meant he went from “billy hargrove who steve saw almost every day” to “max’s step brother who drives her around” and steve hates to admit it but he misses the old billy. The one who would sometimes stare at steve from his bed when he thought steve wasn't watching. But Steve was always aware of billy. Has been from the moment he first set foot in town.

So when he hears this news, that “old Billy” has returned, he hates it because old billy was angry and scared all the time, and old billy didn’t look at him like he was important. Like he saw something else in him. Like he was worth it.

So steve nods at max. Tells the kids he’ll be back, and musters up what little courage he has left before trudging outside. Thinks about how if Robin were here, she’d tell him to turn around and go back inside. Let Billy be the angsty teen he tries so hard to come across as by himself. But his mind and nerves don’t seem to agree on logic too much these days, so he goes anyways.

And when he finally gets to the camaro, billy straightens up as if he wasn’t just hunched over, head in his hands, and breathing heavily. Looking exactly like his sister, not sister. And billy looks up at steve with a bored expression. Answers really dryly like he’d rather be anywhere than here cuz he’s cool for this.

But steve can see the bruises decorating the side of his face. Can see the unblemished skin on billy’s knuckles, and steve just knows. Old billy.

So steve, shaking and scared himself, finally works up the guts to ask billy to come inside. Says something like the kids just started a new D&D game and it won’t be done for a while, so billy might as well come inside so he doesn't freeze even though billy has always run hot.

And billy stays silent, narrows his eyes at steve, which makes steve’s heart beat in his chest because the knows they’ve moved past that night in november, but this is old billy and old billy is really good with his fists and steve doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of that again.

But eventually, billy agrees. Says something snarky like “i’ve always wanted to see how the other half lives.” Shuts the camaro off and opens the door, hitting steve on the leg because he’s still a boy who doesn’t know how to properly accept love and care with his words.

Inside, the party barely spares them a look, but he knows they’re doing it out of a respect thing because max is still frowning and closed off. And billy sees her, starts off ignoring her as he walks around touching things. But his eyes keep finding her and she keeps shivering because she still has some of that california blood in her. And eventually he walks over. Yells at her for leaving her jacket at home before yelling at steve for having a cold house. And steve says he can put the heat on or get her a blanket, but billy waves him off before shrugging off his prized leather jacket and throwing it at max.

And something warm flutters deep in steve’s stomach as he watches their interaction. Something he hasn’t felt since nancy and it builds and builds inside of him.

And then he sees the bruises on billy’s side. Sees the small splotches of red peeking through billy’s white shirt. Watches billy wince as he continues his exploration of steve’s house.

Eventually, steve tells billy to follow him. Has to say it with faux authority because billy loves to argue. When they finally do get to the bathroom, steve forces billy to sit, so he can clean his wounds because “you’re gonna get blood all over my mom’s new carpet, and she’s gonna kill me” which is a lie ofc because it’s not like she’s ever home, and even when she is, she’s only sober long enough to point out whatever flaw of steve she can pick at.

But they’re focusing on billy tonight, so steve brushes off the slight overshare, and billy seems to understand because he lets steve clean him up. Lets him run a warm rag over billy’s abs. Even let’s steve wash his hair (which is a whole other argument). And after, steve gives billy some of his clothes. They have different body sizes so the only thing that fits are a pair of sweats and one of steve’s old sweaters. But watching billy come out from the bathroom wearing his clothes sparks something in him, and he thinks that old sweater might just be his new favorite now.

After, billy starts looking around steve’s room. Says something like “so this where the magic happens” as he waggles his eyebrows. And steve goes to roll his eyes but there’s something about billy looking soft and cozy as he sinks into the cushion of steve’s bed. And that warm feeling is back, and it’s spreading this time. And he has to look away because he’s starting to think of scenarios of billy sleeping in his bed not just for one night but for forever, and...yeah he can’t think of that right now.

So he uses this moment of billy being slightly distracted to go to the kitchen. Makes up another lie about billy having to stay in his room for whatever reason and billy agrees because “your bed feels so good, harrington.” and steve can’t take it anymore and he runs out blushing.

He comes back a half hour later with slices of pizza but billy protests because he’s on a strict diet of not eating whatever the fuck they put in Sal’s pizza. But steve is prepared this time, so he counters saying they had extra and they have to eat it all or else the racoons will get it and everyone is full, so billy has to eat the rest of it.

And steve has already been really weird tonight. Doesn’t want to make it weirder by watching billy eat. So he grabs the closest thing to him which happens to be some romance book from the 1800s that he took out for a school assignment and never returned.

But he’s made his grave already, so he starts reading it. Or at least tries to, but soon the words start blurring together because he keeps getting distracted, and he resorts back to an old trick of reading everything out loud to help him stay on track. And then he remembers billy’s still in the room, and he’s looking at him with this curious look. And steve feels like he’s in grade school again, about to get scolded for being disruptive, so he stutters out an apology, but billy cuts him off, saying he can’t hear the book when steve’s sitting so far away.

and there’s plenty of room on the bed.

So somehow, steve finds himself, sitting on his bed, one side of his body pressed to billy’s, reading an 18th century romance book. and there’s heat being passed between them, but there’s heat filling inside steve too.

Time passes and they get lost in the story, but then suddenly, there’s a loud bang followed by screaming coming from the living room, and steve immediately jumps up, reaching for his bat, but then he hears dustin yell out a “sorry steve” followed by a chorus of “sorry, steve.”

And it takes a second, but his heart rate is slowing back down, but then he looks over at billy, and his eyes are wide and his fingers are digging into his side and he’s breathing really heavily like he’s on the verge of crying or something and steve gets it...old billy.

So steve waits with billy. Helps him calm down by pressing billy’s hand to his chest, to help ground him. Once he’s a little better, steve says he better tell them to quiet down, and billy protests saying “don’t be such a mom, harrington” but the jumpiness is still slightly there in his eyes so steve shrugs him off saying “they’ve already had the cops called on them once because the kids were being obnoxiously loud” and he doesn’t need it to happen again. He doesn’t tell billy the incident was an argument over a video game or that the cop was hopper who didn’t even drive over because it wasn’t serious and it didn’t involve el.

Later, when it’s getting late, nancy and jonathan show up to take the kids home. As Steve talks to them, he notices max and billy arguing in the corner of the room. Eventually he works it out. Billy can’t go home tonight, but max doesn’t want him sleeping in his car because who knows what’s out there.

So steve offers, well more like agrees, to max’s question of letting billy spend the night. Billy protests and steve shrugs it off, saying he has multiple rooms in his house and he can sleep in any of those.

After everyone leaves, steve goes to set billy up in a guest room, but he notices him being hesitant about sleeping alone. And steve’s been lying all day, so he figures that one more can’t hurt so he says that billy’s gonna have to sleep in his bed tonight because the other rooms are filled with his parent’s souvenirs from their many adventures. And it’s so obviously a lie because they were just in a perfectly clean room, but billy smirks anyways and says something like “if you wanted me in your bed, just say that.”

They get back to steve’s room and curl up under the covers. And it’s so cold in steve’s house, so obviously they have to conserve heat by practically spooning each other. And it’s steve’s bed and he’s the one that’s cold, so he gets to be the big spoon this time. Which grants him a “you planning on there being a next time, harrington?” steve hopes billy can’t feel his heart fluttering.

A few minutes later, they’re laying there, both still awake. Because the worst part about living in the middle of nowhere is the constant sounds of nature. Steve’s used to it for the most part, but billy keeps tensing in his arms. So steve lies one last time and says something like “i hate the sounds of outside so i have to sing myself to sleep. Do you mind?” and billy shrugs, saying no. and steve starts singing something that’s not a bedtime song and his voice is bad, but it makes billy laugh which makes steve’s chest flutter and that warm feeling is back with a vengeance. But this time steve welcomes it.

As the song ends, billy’s breath starts getting slower and quieter, and steve thinks he’s asleep so he whispers a “goodnight hargrove” into billy’s hair.

But his calculations are off, and billy stirs in his arms, and steve freezes, nose still touching billy’s curls. And then billy turns around, still wrapped in his arms and whispers a “thank you, pretty boy” into his chest before snuggling deeper into steve’s arms.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #headcanon #and ofc billy ends up staying with steve indefinitely #probably says something like “this house is too big for one person #and they all live happily ever after #blah blah blah #fanfic #billy x steve #also u have no idea how long it took to post this #tumblr website didn’t want to cooperate so i spent over #and hour struggling to put it up #and then i tried to do it on my phone...and it worked the first time #so tired of this app #i feel so old and i’m only 22 oh my gosh #wrote this at 3am instead of sleeping so hello hello 😁#my writing

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selfships-in-spanish · 3 years

Text

The Queen of Demons 2/?

Pairing: Erwin Smith x OC, Levi Ackerman x OC

Rating: Gen (the rating will go up as the story advances! But it will totally be explicit ;D)

Warnings: None for now, but sexist and misogynist upbringing (Eva's father is a huge asshole).

Word Count: 3449

ALSO POSTED ON AO3

A/N: Second chapter, woooo!! We are slowly getting more into plot details B) There's so much stuff I have already written out that I cannot wait to show you all

CHAPTER 2: THE DEMONS OF ELDIA

Eva tried to control her breathing the best she could while maintaining her gaze on the Chief, frozen.

That imposing figure standing proudly on top of the stairs was her husband to be.

Her father’s voice echoed loudly in her mind, chastising her for her lack of manners. How dare she stare at her betrothed? She was being rude, uncouth, and back in Gottesreich this wouldn’t have gone unpunished.

Eva didn’t see the way those calculating eyes narrowed when she teared her eyes from him and resumed the stance she was taught to maintain: head down in a display of submission, eyes glued to the floor and mouth shut. She also didn’t see a pair of steel gray eyes bore into her, watching every move she made.

The Chief kept talking, despite his inquisitive gaze towards the Princess, while Moblit translated, introducing everyone on his side. It prompted Eva to look up again and meet everyone’s eyes out of courtesy, knowing it would be disrespectful and rude if she didn’t, but never stayed too long as she accidentally did with the Chief.

The Princess was surprised at the variety of shapes and sizes of Eldia’s best warriors, going from tall like that giant with the big nose, moustache and crossed arms –Mike, was it?–, to short and slim, like the man with black hair and impassive grey eyes with a permanent scowl etched on his face –Levi, the Chief’s right hand man, she should really remember that–, and more. But Eva couldn’t hide her shock when she saw women amongst them. This would be absolutely prohibited back in Gottesreich, not to mention the punishment for even thinking of stepping on a man’s role. But these women looked proud, fierce, and Eva couldn’t help but envy such confidence being openly displayed a little bit.

Eva felt her father’s disapproving eyes on the back of her mind, and reprimanded herself internally for even wondering about how it must feel to be in their shoes. Eva had her own role, her own duty to perform, as her Father incessantly reminded her; thinking about such things would lead her nowhere. She was here for one single and very clear purpose.

“Please, come inside, I’m sure we all want to be out of the cold.” Moblit’s calm voice shook her out of her reveries. The Chief gestured behind him, towards the entrance of the Great Hall, with a hand on his belt and his arm open to his side, a polite smile on his lips.

Prince Hans reciprocated the smile, nodding and looking at his siblings as if on cue to follow him inside. Flora and the soldiers that accompanied them were ushered away from the monarchs, only letting the personal bodyguards go in with them, as protocol demanded, and it caused a knot on Eva’s stomach to not know where Flora was being taken. She only hoped they would all be alright. Sensing her distress, Moblit turned to address the royal siblings and ease her mind.

“The horses and luggage will be properly taken care of, as well as your men and maidens, your Highnesses. Any request you shall have please make it known, and we will try our best to comply.” Eva wanted to scoff at that, having several requests herself. She wanted to go home, please.

“Thank you kindly, Moblit.” Prince Hans replied. Eva prayed to God the Eldians would keep their word.

Upon entering the Great Hall warmth instantly greeted them, as well as a breathtaking view. Eva didn’t want to admit it, but the interior of the Great Hall was beautiful. It was composed of wonderfully sculpted wooden pillars with the same intricate markings and runes from outside etched in them, truly the masterpiece of very skilled artisans. She could even make out some animals on the relief carvings, merging with the patterns. The whole room was illuminated with the pale sunlight from the windows, as well as the warm glow of the fires roaring to both light and heat the room better. At the far end of the hall there were more steps, leading to a wooden platform where a big, imposing chair with thick pelts draped over it rested, undoubtedly like a throne. There was a smaller one next to it, with the beautiful markings and soft-looking pelts too, and Eva felt a chill at the realisation that it was for her.

They were led to a table surrounded with chairs, goblets already prepared to be poured wine to the guests. The Chief sat down, inviting his guests to do the same as him and his second in command. The Princes imitated their host, sitting on the opposite chairs and getting comfortable in them, and Eva waited for them to be already seated to do the same, silently, not drawing attention to her and carefully maneuvering her cloak and dress skirts to be in the pose she was taught to sit in: back straight, knees together and hands resting on them, crossed but never closing them in fists, legs–

“Wine, your Highness?” Moblit’s soft voice startled her, looking at the Eldian servant holding the wine decanter right above her goblet, waiting to pour it. Eva quickly looked at her brothers, already having been served and goblets in hand and taking a sip. Even if back at Gottesreich’s court it would be improper for a lady to drink wine out of a social gathering, it would be impolite and disrespectful to refuse.

Be good. Cause a good first impression. Be good. Don’t bring dishonor to your Kingdom. Be good–

“Yes, please.” Eva tried to not let her voice raise too much, knowing she shouldn’t be speaking while her brothers or other men were.

Eva didn’t notice the way the Chief’s eyes quickly shifted to her upon hearing the small exchange, too engrossed on maintaining proper Gottesreichan manners.

The Princess ventured a sip from her goblet and was met with a rich, powerful flavour with a hint of spices in it exploding on her taste buds. Her eyes widened and eyebrows rose, trying not to cough at the strong wine; that would be beyond rude and disrespectful. She gulped down the Eldian wine, hoping no one noticed it.

One of the Chief’s warriors, the giant one (Mike! She had to start remembering names), huffed, amused at her reaction. Her wish was not met as she also saw the Chief chuckle into his own goblet while listening to Moblit’s translations.

Perfect. Just perfect. Way to make good impressions.

The conversation seemed to momentarily change its topic as the Chief asked something and everyone became silent. Moblit’s voice made her look up from her goblet.

“Not used to strong wines, your Highness?

Eva’s gaze briefly traveled from Moblit to the Chief, who was looking at her with the corner of his mouth lifted, as well as one of his bushy eyebrows. The Princess hurriedly looked at her brothers, who were awaiting as well. Hans encouraged her with a slight nod. They were waiting for her response.

Oh.

“I am deeply sorry, my Lord, I meant no disrespect.” Her grip on the goblet tightened, trying her hardest to not let her voice waver. “I am indeed not used to strong flavoured wines, or wines themselves.” She tried to finish with a polite smile.

The Chief’s eyes had a curious glint in them, nodding at Moblit’s words. He replied something, and Eva dreadfully awaited Moblit’s translation. She really hoped she didn’t offend him or any of the Eldians present.

“Then, what are you used to, your Highness?”

This much attention on her was making her nervous. They shouldn’t be focusing the conversation on her, there were more important matters to discuss than her tastes!

“Coffee. Or tea, also, my Lord. But do not fret over it, I am sure I will get used to wine in no time.”

Would she? Eva doubted it, but if she had to, she would. Although she would deeply miss her morning cup of coffee…

The Chief hummed, instantly turning to one of his men to tell them something, and Eva watched as the warrior disappeared to carry on the Chief’s errand. She looked back at the Chief, seeing him share a brief smile at her before returning to the previous topic.

Eva tried to pay attention, but the thought of having hurt the Eldian’s feelings gnawed at her.

The warrior returned some time after with a steaming cup in his hands. Eva noticed he was that short warrior that stood next to the Chief when both parties presented themselves, with the cold and impassive grey eyes. He offered the cup to Eva, patiently waiting for her to take it. The Princess obliged, thanking him even if she knew he probably didn’t understand a word she said.

“My apologies for not having coffee, your Highness. I hope tea can suffice.” Moblit once again spoke to her, the Chief turning to face her in his chair, awaiting her response.

“Please don’t apologise, my Lord. This is more than enough.” Eva briefly looked down at the cup, then up at the Chief with another polite smile. “I am thankful for your kindness.”

Smile, smile, smile. Always smile.

Trying to divert everyone’s attention away from her and let the conversation go back to where it was, Eva ventured a taste. Her nose picked up the delicious aroma of the tea, and her mouth was filled by the sweet flavour, finishing with a touch of spiciness at the end that made her want more. Eva raised her brows, surprised but satisfied. She took another sip, erasing any traces left of the wine from before. It wasn’t coffee, but this tea was an agreeable alternative.

“I take it you liked it, your Highness.” The Chief wasn’t done with the conversation, and Eva didn’t understand why the Chief was so adamant to make her talk, or even try to engage her into a conversation besides the ones between the princes and himself. She wasn’t there for that.

“I do, my Lord. This is a blend I haven’t had the chance to try before, thank you for letting me have a taste of it.”

The Chief let out a soft chuckle and began talking again. Eva awaited Moblit’s translations, delicately holding her cup.

“Ah, I’m afraid I am not the tea expert here. Levi is, so please feel free to ask him more about his blends.” The Chief gestured towards the short warrior, who nodded in acknowledgement.

“I will. Thank you, my Lord.” Another polite smile on her lips.

That seemed to end the conversation for now. Eva kept drinking the tea, listening to what was being said. She shouldn’t zone out, not when this concerns her too.

The Gottesreichan Princes excused the King for not coming himself to Eldia because of urgent matters that required his presence, but Eva knew the truth behind that, having heard her father with the other advisors in the throne room already discussing plans beyond her daughter’s marriage, and being greeted by her brothers the same day they departed with sad smiles on their faces.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth, knowing the King, her own father, couldn’t stay away one minute from his plans on how to maintain the Kingdom’s borders, or how to expand them, too.

He didn’t even think about walking her to her awaiting carriage, and she was graced only by a quick kiss on her forehead when Eva went to look for him and found the King still in his chambers. But her father made sure she didn’t forget how his daughter would represent their beloved Kingdom in foreign territories, how she had to bring both civilization and manners to the barbarians. All this, while intensely staring at the map hanging on his wall.

Not a single look at her.

The King was not at the courtyard to send them off. Did not wave goodbye, did not do what any father would do when they knew their daughter would never come home again to start a new life somewhere far away. He only expected her to do a good job as she was taught to do.

This is all Eva knew about fatherhood from the day she was born, an absent paternal figure that only looked at her when she did good. And she always strived to do good. She had to. Father would spare a glance if she did.

Hans often tried to unconsciously supply and fill that void her father left when he wasn’t chained down by his own princely duties, recalling when she was a little girl how he would take her to the Capital’s festivities and let her stuff her mouth full of sweets. Or when he would indulge in her imagination and games, running around the castle slaying dragons, which often made Friederich play the part of the dragon going down with theatrics that put court jesters to shame, or playing hide and seek, or when the royal tailor made a new dress for her how he would compliment and praise the craftsmanship, and of course how she looked pretty in it.

The days where both her brothers took her on strolls around the Castle woods were the happiest for her, getting to hop from horse to horse and run around the meadow without being reprimanded for it. Rolling in the grass, chasing birds and squirrels, picking up flowers to make flower crowns that would lately put them on both her brother’s heads...

Sadly it ended when Father decided it was time for Eva to start her studies and long preparation to be his perfect little princess. Her brothers had less and less time to spend with her, and Hans was almost absent all the time with the pressure of being the Crown Prince.

Still, Hans and Friederich found a little loophole in Father’s strict schedule, using their diplomatic travels as a perfect excuse to make their little sister tag along, always with the excuse to further prepare her for her upcoming future.

But now there was no little loophole anymore.

The Chief and the Gottesreichan princes were discussing dates and procedures, and agreed on carrying on the Eldian traditions and rituals, as well as have the ceremony here in Eldia. Eva had uselessly hoped it would maybe be carried in Gottesreich, respecting the bride’s lineage, or maybe a double one, but her wishes would not be granted. She drowned her sigh with a sip of her tea.

They finally decided that a spring wedding would be the best, knowing the roads were hard to travel with the immense amounts of snow in them, and they wouldn’t want the guests to be inconvenienced by it. Besides, for Eldia spring was important, and it would be just perfect to celebrate a wedding. The Chief tried to include the Princess on this decision, asking her if she liked spring, which she replied that she did, not really enjoying the cold.

That settled it then. It meant two months of preparations, approximately. Maybe a few weeks less, depending on the weather conditions.

Two months.

Dread twisted her stomach.

“I hope you will find your life here pleasant, your Highness. I understand the shock and differences between our people, but we will accommodate you the best of our capabilities.”

The Chief was paying attention to her again. Why? Why was he trying to fake kindness? Eva knew he only pretended because her brothers were present, why else would he? Eva was just an asset, a bargaining chip, so why go to such lengths for someone from another Kingdom such as her? A twisted sense of humour? That would fit, weren’t they demons?

Her father made her memorise the words and movements she was about to spit and act out, telling Eva how that is what every man wanted to hear from their future bride. Eva found the comment crass, even coming from Father, but still complied as she was trained to do.

Eva set the cup on the wooden table, moving gracefully as she let her right hand touch her heart, lowering her head in the submissive display she was taught to never slip out of.

“Thank you for your consideration towards my well-being, my Lord.” Head still lowered, eyes closed— “I hope I can perform my marital duties beyond your expectations, my Lord, and that I am to your liking. I will do my best to ensure your needs are met and fulfilled.”

Eva then resumed her previous position as she heard Moblit translate her words. Eva ventured a look towards her brothers, finding twin saddened expressions on their faces. She was shocked. Did she not do good? Alarmed, the Princess looked over the Chief, pushing aside the protocols and needing to know she did not displease the Chief, that Father wasn’t wrong.

The Chief looked troubled himself, as if some suspicions and thoughts he had from before had been confirmed right that instant. No no no– this was disastrous! Father told her it was imperative she did it, that it was what those brutes wanted from their wives, so why was the Chief not overjoyed to see such an obedient, docile behaviour from her?

The Eldian warrior looked like he wanted to say something that was on his mind, but ultimately decided to close his mouth. The Chief seemed to thoroughly think about what his next actions and words should be, so instead of replying to the Princess as she thought he would do, with a lecherous and satisfied smirk, he chose to tightly smile and bow his head as if in acknowledgement of her words.

It didn’t settle well in her stomach, and Eva had never been more confused than she was right now.

What was this man playing at?

Moblit’s strong but soft voice cut through her musings.

“You surely must be tired from the journey, your Highnesses. Please, allow us to escort you to your rooms so you can rest until tonight’s banquet. Baths will be ready, too.”

Yes please! Eva wanted nothing more than to run to the safety of four walls and a tightly closed door, and Flora to embrace her like she always did when Eva got overwhelmed.

“We indeed are, thank you. Those carriages don’t do anyone’s back a favour.” Hans laughed, accompanied by Friederich’s chuckle and the Chief’s shaking of shoulders. Eva was eagerly awaiting for Hans to get up so she could follow and get out of there, too. A warm bath sounded so nice. “Eva, do you mind going before us?”

Wait.

What?

From Hans apologetic face, and Friederich’s gaze avoiding her, this was something they had planned beforehand.

“Brother,” Eva tried not to raise her voice or make her desperation known. She didn’t want to go alone, to be alone with those people supposedly taking her to her rooms. What if they didn’t? “please.”

“Eva,” Hans turned to face her, getting a hold of her tightly clasped hands. “we are deeply sorry– no, don’t give me that look, we are.”

Like Hell they were!

“Hey, Birdie” Friederich always used that nickname with her since they were little kids, so him using it right now conflicted Eva’s feelings. Her brother always used it when he wanted to make her feel safe, but right now it wasn’t really working. “Trust us. We will be right behind you, okay?”

“But–“

“We only need to discuss some matters, that’s all.”

“Hans–”

“Yes, very boring matters that will make you fall asleep. You go rest, Birdie.”

When her brothers synched with each other it was a losing battle for Eva. Knowing this, she promptly closed her mouth into a thin line, resigned. Swallowing down a sigh, Eva forced a smile on her lips as she spoke to the Eldians, focusing on the Chief.

“Excuse me for my behaviour, my Lord. I will gladly take your offer and let you men discuss what you need to talk about.”

The Chief nodded, asking Levi once again to comply with his requests and accompany the Princess to her room, taking almost every guard with him. Eva gracefully raised herself from her seat, making a short reverence to the people present in the room.

“Thank you for the tea, my Lord, it was most delicious.”

Eva followed Levi to exit the Great Hall, leaving the three men inside and trying hard not to dwell in it. She had no right to pry into men’s matters, and she best accepted it quickly. They watched her disappear through the door with Mike’s towering form closing the little entourage.

It hurt both brothers, but it had to be done.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #erwin smith #erwin smith x oc #erwin x oc #erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot oc #snk oc #attack on titan oc #shingeki no kyojin oc #arranged marriage au #queen of demons #mius writes

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aj-writes-here · 4 years

Note

Can I request an usually tipsy Levi coming home late to a sleepy reader? He can’t stop saying “I love you” & gives her continuous smooches 🥺 You can make it raunchy if you’d like. Gracias~

I’m almost falling asleep but I could finish this one! I hope you like it. And de nada! 💕

Drunk

Hanji Zoe was the one to blame. She had created a drink, saying that she just wanted to try the ingredients but in reality, she was trying to make Levi drunk. It was a fact that Levi had a huge tolerance to alcohol, and seeing him drunk was practically impossible. Until Ms. Hanji created that drink.

The Vets decided to have a night out, something simple, in the end they were human beings and they needed to spend some quality time together. Levi had refused a first, what was the point of going if you were staying at the HQ? Still, you encouraged him to go and relax a bit, he needed it. Meantime, Eren, Armin and, Mikasa had asked you for some tips in body combat and you couldn't refuse. So while Levi was having fun, or at least trying to, you were spending your time sharing your knowledge with the cadets. What could go wrong?

Meantime, at the tavern things were turning quite animated. Even Erwin had his cheeks a bit red because of the alcohol, and Hanji was insisting Levi to drink the beverage she had created with one goal. See the Captain drunk. Or at least just a bit.

''I'm not drinking that. Tch, maybe you peed in there.'' Levi said, arms crossing.

''How could you say that! I didn't, shorty. Don't be a coward!'' Hanji said with a big smile on her face.

''Maybe you could drink a little, I don't see why not.'' Erwin added with a clam smile on his face, shrugging his shoulders.

''You're brain is rotten if you think that I'm going to drink that shit.'' He replied laying his elbow on the back of the chair.

What he didn't know, is that he was going to fall under their proposal. Levi was looking at them, all drinking and sharing stories and laughs, maybe that was not that bad, and when Levi saw Mike and Erwin drinking Hanji's creation, your voice sounded in his head. You could give it a try, Levi. What can go wrong? Yeah, you were right. He had a high tolerance, so it was not as if he was going to end up crawling back home.

Hanji's eyes light up when Levi asked her for a glass of the drink, it was a mischievous smile, but also an exciting one.

Minutes went by, and so did the drinks. One after the other and Levi couldn't comprehend why was he feeling so light. Was it him? Or everthing around him was blurry? Damned shitty glasses, he thought.

Everyone was laughing at the most minimal thing, and he couldn't comprehend what was so funny, he looked at them with some kind of disgust, but maybe it was because he was feeling weird. Or worse, he was drunk.

At it was Hanji's fault.

He was going to kill her when he had the right physical faculties. Levi stood up, having no idea that it had been more than three hours since he arrived at the tavern. Erwin offered to walk him back to the HQ, and well, he was also sleepy and the paperwork and expeditions were not planning themselves. The taller man said goodbye to the rest of the Veterans while Levi only gave them a killer gaze, making them laugh loudly.

The way back was incredibly long, and for what he could recall it wasn't that far away, but everything was because of the strong alcohol running on his blood.

Once on the hallway that led to his room, he hoped you were sleeping so you could not see him in that deplorable state, he was hating it. But that vanished when he opened the door.

You were sleeping on your stomach, the moonlight lighting your back and a part of your face, sleeping peacefully. Hair scattered over the pillow, and your lips slightly parted. Levi couldn't help but smile at the image, fuck, he said to himself. Using the tiny amounts of coordination he had left, he got rid of his boots and his jacket. He crawled on the bed, each arm on each side of your head, and in your sleep, you could feel soft breathing on your neck, and some other attentions on your cheek. Slowly, you opened your eyes and recognized the body over yours.

''Levi?'' You asked.

''That's right, brat.'' Levi answered back and you could tell he was smiling, wait, what? That made you turn your neck to see if you were right, but it was hard to see because of the darkness.

''How did it go?'' You said with a small smile of amusement, probably knowing the answer.

''Like shit.'' That's all he said before kissing you again, this time on your cheek and then your shoulder.

''Really? Was it that bad?'' Your sleepy voice was making him feel in heaven, and you turn over your body so you could lay on your back and look at him.

''I love you.'' Your eyes opened wide, hearing those words it is not usual, and less after asking something else. ''I know I don't say it often, but I do.'' His lips were now on yours, kissing you slowly.

''I know you do, Levi.'' You said with a smile, a tender smile as you caressed his cheek.

''I don't want you to forget it, brat.'' His lips moved from your lips to your jaw, meeting your neck again after a few seconds. ''Fuck, I love you so much.'' He nibbled a soft spot on your skin, making you hum with your throat.

''I could never forget it, trust me.'' Scratching his undercut, you kissed his clothed shoulder. ''Less now that you're drunk.'' You teased him, laughing lowly.

''I'm not drunk.'' Levi said harshly without stopping his ministrations.

''That's what drunk people say.'' Laughing again, you rested your head on the pillow again, softly rubbing his back.

''Said that one more time and you will clean the bathrooms for a month'' He muttered moving to the other side of your neck, his hand dangerously sneaking under your shirt. ''I'm still the Captain.'' This time he bit a little stronger on your skin, digging his fingers on your hip.

''My Captain.'' You corrected him with a sultry smile.

''Exactly.'' His scent was hypnotizing, it could make you surrender to him so easily, and when he gave you a mouth opened kiss, it was like the taste of alcohol was making you drunk. And you were, drunk because of him. Levi rested his forehead on yours, and then spoke. ''I don't know what the hell you have done to me.'' His voice was low, seductive. ''But I love you,'' Kiss on your cheek ''So,'' kiss on your forehead ''Fucking,'' another one on your neck and collarbone ''Much'' he ended up by kissing you on your mouth once again.

Honestly, all of his actions were totally new for you. It was not usual to see him like that, and there was no doubt it was because of the alcohol. And you loved that. He was cute, but hot and still Levi. He was clingier and more vocal than other days, but who were you to complain?

You answered his kiss, tongue against tongue, tasting each other with no shame. And you could feel him moving your hips against you. Damn it. Your hands roamed his back, and you came back to earth when you felt his straps still on his body.

''I think you will need my help to take these off'' You said with a smile, there was no way he could get rid of them in the state he was.

''Oi, want me to undress me already?'' He teased, sucking on your neck and then mumbling on your ear. ''Or is it you want me to fuck you, brat?'' That last sentence killed you.

''You are drunk, you are not going to be able to take them out properly,'' You chuckled ''And yes, you should just fuck me already.''

''Tch, your wish is my command, then.''

He smirked for himself, kneeling on the bed and you sitting right after him. Even with no light, you started getting rid of the straps. It was going to take a while but it was going to worth it. Sleeping was no longer a thing, that's for sure.

And maybe, you were going to manage how to walk and take care of his hangover next morning.

#attack on titan #attack on titan imagine #levi ackerman #levi ackerman imagines #levi x reader #levi ackerman headcanons

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chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (18)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Life is like an endless road. Sprinkled with pitfalls, choices, regrets, happiness, doubts... so many things that could keep you going... or to end the journey permanently. At every important moment, two paths are open to you. and every path you take will have consequences. This is called the butterfly effect.

But when you look at Danny's life, you quickly notice that he continues on his way even though it should have stopped. Already just during his childhood, he escaped death twice. The violence he suffered because of his "father" almost cost him his life. then when he lost Carla. At first, our dear assassin wanted to end his life before changing his mind at the last moment, feeling unable to do so. That's when the truth came out. That's when his life took a whole different path. And the rest you know.

And there... there is another way opens up. The path you've opened. But how far will this path go? Only time will tell. But one thing is certain: Jed will have to disappear. Danny still can't believe you prefer Jed to him. Such a boring life is almost unbearable! While a life with him... exciting, dangerous is what makes him feel alive! We're going to have to really work on that. As for McKellan.... his time is running out now.

It's all set. All that remains is to wait. Once the discord between him and Hoggins gets to a certain point.... He will strike. It is not in his style or in his habit to blame someone else. But he has to admit that it was fun to make Wilhelm go around in circles. He couldn't wait to see his face when he found out that Danny had put him on a false trail.

“A little romantic dinner, huh? I knew that under those glasses and that nerd look there was a romantic boy.” said Melinda suddenly, bringing Danny out of his thoughts.

Oh, that's right. Have dinner. With you. He sent you a message to see if you'd prefer a restaurant or a meal at his house. And your answer was not long in coming, with a nice touch of humour, you told him that you would like to taste his cooking. He is not a great Michelin-starred chef but for you he will be able to make a meal worthy of the greatest restaurants. And with a little luck... he will be able to enjoy the softness and warmth of your body for the night... what? Don't forget that he is a man, above all! A man with needs... important carnal needs.

“I may be a nerd, but I'm not an idiot either. And then it was you who told me that I had to think more often about my personal life than professional, right?” said Danny scratching his head.

“that’s true, but I didn't think you'd listen to me. And also, at home. this story could end well ... If you know what I mean.”

“Not on the first night. That's not her style. Plus, we're not really ... Together. Maybe tonight will be the beginning of a relationship but... It can also be an embarrassing misunderstanding. I'm not sure it's reciprocal. She can always change her mind...

“Don't start telling you that the war is lost if you haven't fought in one battle! You don't know anything and that's normal! tonight it will be the perfect opportunity for both of you to be sure that it is reciprocal. And if that's the case... then this may be the best night of your life.” replied Melina seriously.

“Yeah, you’re right. I'll see what happens tonight. the boss's plan seems to be working. Apparently Hoggins is going to press charges against the Georgia newspaper. And he's not even aware that we've published it.” said Danny, re-placing his glasses properly.

“The most amazing thing about all this is that Hoggins has a tooth against McKellan! Apparently, he thinks he was the one who sold the wick to the journalist. it's going to create tension...” said Mattew, stretching his arms.

“That's going to spice things up. It can only be beneficial to us. Now don't make mistakes. If hoggins learn that it is us and that in addition they were stolen from his home ... we can say goodbye to life.” said Melina.

Jed nod while Danny smiled slyly. He will be dead long before he tries anything. Because of course Hoggins is going to die. When and how Danny doesn't know, but one thing's for sure: he'll kill him. Then maybe he will consider living somewhere else... You never know. and if he could take you with him... that would be the icing on the cake. He can't wait to see you tonight. More than ever. He wonders what you're going to wear... something soft for sure.

But it won't be the most interesting... the most interesting will be how the evening will end... He took the opportunity to bite into one of your pastries, since your reopening, you provide the newspaper with pastries and coffee. and everyone appreciates it! But Hembrook is the greediest. His personal order was rather.... Long. the latter passed through the offices, a brownie in hand before stopping in front of our trio.

“Don't forget you have a Ghostface article to write! I'm counting on you my little Jed to get a quality article!” He said with a proud smile.

“Of course, sir. You can count on me, I'm on my way.” respond Danny with a smile.

“This little bandit of Wilhelm does not give us much info. Did you find anything on your side?”

“Well... I shouldn't talk to you about it but... I found pictures... really horrible pictures... I didn't think he could do that. I... I dropped them off at your office.. So, you can see it for yourself. But I don't mean to offend you... you had a criminal among your employees.” replied Danny, holding back from smiling.

Two actually, but that, old man, you don't know. Because compared to Mike, Danny is a real cover-up pro.

“Yes... I can imagine the worst. Even though he was a drug addict, I can't even imagine what kind of crap he was doing. I'll be in my office. By the way, you'll tell your friend that I love her cakes! I'll pay for it at the end of the month. At work little kids!

Danny and the others resumed their work, the latter working to catch his article about the drug dealer they recently found. With Mike's murder, it's a big job but it doesn't scare our young reporter. All he cares about is your little face-to-face tonight. Just him and you... both in the same room. The little rabbit trapped by the big bad wolf.

The day passed quickly, the lunch break allowing everyone to take a breather, Danny took the opportunity to watch what he could cook you tonight. A Milanese cutlet with spaghetti was his final choice. He has everything at home to do them. What? Did you expect him to have only sandwiches and ready meals? Danny is a fine mouth and he likes to cook despite his ...bloody inclination. and you're going to be able to see his culinary skills tonight. Actually, Jed's skills from your point of view.

He has to make his alter ego disappear. once and for all. He was tired of being the nice little Jed Olsen. He wanted to be himself. He left his job and came to pick you up as usual. You were exhausted but delighted with this little meal between you. The way home was a laughing as usual and you separated in front of your apartment doors. Danny had three hours in front of him to prepare dinner. He's got plenty of time.

He put his things in his office, took a change, and went to take a good shower. hey he must be presentable tonight! no glasses, no hair tied, it's a very different "Jed" that you're going to see tonight. He left the bathroom, wearing a short-sleeved black T-shirt, black jeans, and grey sneakers. Well, they were white at the base but ... let's say that time has done its work. He was handsome, he knew how to showcase himself, without any artifice. Natural beauty is all that attracted him and made him attractive.

He began to prepare the meal, being careful not to be wrong. He has to make a good impression! if he has calculated his shot correctly, he will have to cook everything when you are there. He'll have a good half hour of conversation with you before he gets to the table. everything was calculated, like his murders. I told you, Danny is meticulously meticulous. Once the meal was ready, just waiting to be baked, Danny prepared the table, simple, sober, but effective. He opened a bottle of wine and tasted it before he smiled. A quality wine for a quality meal.

He placed the bottle on the table and checked that everything was in place and once that was done, made sure that the door of his office was locked. We never know, curiosity is a nasty flaw, and nothing says you won't try to get into it. He barely had time to return to the drawing-room, when he heard knocking at the door. A sneaky smile came to his lips. It's time.

He opened the door, and what he saw left him speechless. You had styled your hair in a beautiful bun, leaving two thin strands of your hair on either side of your face. You had very slightly made-up, very discreet that it does not even seem that you have any. You were dressed in a white and blue striped dress, flesh-colored tights and small navy-blue ballerinas. An angel, you were an angel. And visibly, Danny didn't leave you indifferent either.

“You’re...you’re beautiful.” said Danny, regaining his spirits.

“So are you. I wonder if I'm at the right address. What did you do with the real Jed Olsen?” You said laughing, making Danny laugh at the same time.

“Oh, let's say that when night comes, the little nerd I am is giving way to a perfect gentleman. Especially when I'm in perfect and charming company. But come in, please. The evening will be more pleasant inside than in front of my doormat.”

“Thank you, my dear little gentleman.” you replied, coming in while Danny smiles slyly, closing the door behind you.

“dinner is practically ready, but I'm saying we could... chat a little bit. Unless you're really hungry and then I better cook everything before you become a little demonic creature.”

“Really Funny Jed, don’t worry I'm not like Mattew. By the way, everyone enjoyed my cakes?”

“Yeah, especially Mr Hembrook, he's a real glutton, you would have seen him he wouldn't have stopped if you'd brought him more. But keep it to yourself, he's supposed to be watching his line. In fact, his wife does it for him. I met her once and I can confirm that these two there was meant to be together, they are literally day and night. But as they say, opposites attract each other, don't they?”

“It’s true. Melina told me that... that we were all connected to our soulmate in one way or another. and that all our lives we were guided to him or her. After that is it true ... In a sense when I think of my parents, or the Lawsons, I tell myself that it's true. But when I see some couple separating after years of married life.... I tell myself that it doesn't necessarily work every time. Or that we wanted to thwart fate and it put us back on the right path.” You answer shrugging your shoulders, looking at him.

“Sure...Well, Can I have a drink for you? If I remember correctly, you are not very friendly with alcohol then... Can I buy you a cup of tea? You'll still drink wine at least? just have a drink if you really don't want to, to make me happy.” He asks smiling.

“Yes, for the tea, and just one glass of wine, to make you happy.” You respond, smiling in return.

Danny serves you a small cup of tea and then give it to you before serving himself and sitting on the couch. You join him and talk for a good half hour. You discuss everything, Danny of his work, you of yours, recalling your little feat of yesterday. Danny smiled, the thought of you mastering this poor fool made him laugh inwardly. Who would have thought that this fragile little body was capable of such a thing? After this half hour of discussions, he got up and put the cutlets into the oven. He pulled out a jug of water that he had put in the fridge, to place it on the table on your side. He then turned on the pan where the spaghetti has cooked to warm them up a little before serving on the plate. Once the cutlets were cooked, he placed them gently on the plate and took them to serve on the table.

“I'm not a great Michelin-starred chef but... I hope you like it.” He said scratching his head.

“Oh, come on! I'm sure it's very good! Don't underestimate yourself like that! and at worst... You'll be my guinea pig for the next three months.” You respond laughing.

“Well, if it means free cakes...Why not?”

You start eating and he's taking only a bite to congratulate Danny, or rather Jed on his meal. Jed smiled as Danny smiled more widely, of course his cooking was good. He told you, you would be treated like a queen if you preferred him to Jed. The meal went in good spirits, from the dish to the dessert.

“It was really delicious Jed. Thank you. It's been a long time since I've had a... one-on-one with someone. If we ignore the meal, we made at the Chinese restaurant of course. And in the end, you do very well in the kitchen ... Carla was really lucky to have you.” you said smiling.

“Carla taught me everything. If she hadn't helped me with cooking, I would have been a great instant noodle addict.” Danny responds.

“... There's something I'd like to talk to you about. It's... It's about the two of us. I... I know you can't turn the page since... I mean, you know. But lately, we've both shown signs of affection...”

“We kissed. Twice. The first time was you and the second time was me. And you wonder if... if it's reciprocal on my side. You want to know for sure.” Replied Danny rising from his chair to stand beside you, his eyes staring at yours. He laughs slightly, seeing you nodding, blushing. “It's true that... I'm having a hard time moving on. Carla... was everything to me. She was the only one who didn't treat me like... someone different. And since we've known each other, I've felt that way again. So, if that can answer your question...”

He kissed you, without warning, and this time the kiss lasted longer. The softness of her lips added to the softness of his... It's a double feeling of silk touch, both for him and for you. As he was about to release you, Danny was surprised when, against all odds, you kissed him again, not wanting to let go of his lips for a second. Both eventually backed off and a smile was exchanged between the two of you.

“Is that okay with that answer?” he simply asks.

“Yes. You know I don't promise to be the perfect girlfriend...”

“I don’t promise to be the perfect boyfriend too. We're probably going to fight one day. For anything and everything. But know that if you have problems ... I'll be there. I won't let anyone near you. To hurt you, of course.”

“Me too. I... I’m started to be tired. I'm going to go to bed.” you replied, rising up and starting to walk you to the door. Danny hugged you and kissed you one last time.

“Good night my love. Have sweet dreams.” He simply said.

He let you go and addressed his angelic smile when you close the door. He cleared it all, wash the dishes, changed and went to bed. Looking at the ceiling he let himself be dragged by sleep. No stalking tonight. But in his mind one thing was clear:

When it all ends. When no one is on his way, whether it's McKellan, Hoggins, or those who will approach you... He'll have to be the only one in your eyes. Jed will have to disappear.

FOREVER.

***

(Done! well I took my time and start writing only since Wednesday, but I did it! I hope you’ll like it like the others! time for me to rest this week-end! have a good week-end everyone! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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willowistic22 · 4 years

Note

Hey :)

For your post concerning Ikeshot - would you maybe consider writing an Ikeshot Soulmate AU during the canon era?

Thanks in advance

left this in my drafts for the whole month bcs i was doing no content november which was definitely not used as an excuse of me not wanting to fight off my writers block heheheheheheheh spoiler alert : it was. but i got around to write this one so i hope it suffice! i mean i hope so bcs it ended up being 2.5k words long lol!

So pls enjoy my canon era ikeshot soulmate au! the concept is where soulmate marks are in the form of the first things your soulmate says to you when you guys meet. also ik this will kinda flop since it’s a rarepair but pls do your best to not let it flop :)

Ike doesn’t like the thought of soulmates. Not one bit. Well, at first he liked the idea of having someone out there waiting for him. He doesn’t need a mark of any kind to tell him that. He knows it on his own terms. But there was a little bit of excitement that exploded in his stomach when his soulmate mark appeared on his forearm. And it was… weird to say the least.

He got his mark a year earlier than his twin brother, right on their 13th birthday. A delicate black writing engraved in the skin of his forearm. The soulmate mark stories he has ever heard were about people with sweet sayings engraved in their skin. It was all romantic, innocent, and soft spoken words tread lightly by the lips of their lover to be. But Ike’s? It was downright strange. None of those sappy and sweet stuff people say when the subject is about soulmates. Which is why Ike never bothered showing it off. He has heard enough jokes from Mike about that text.

And here’s the kicker for his situation: despite getting his soulmate mark a year earlier, Mike was somehow granted the gift of getting a sweet soulmate line and meeting his soulmate first! That really pissed Ike off.

He’s left with his thoughts on that subject this evening, carefully holding up his forearm while he lies on the top bunk he and his brother call their own. The words on his forearm echoes inside of his brain as he strokes the ink on his skin, blocking out the loud Lower Manhattan lodging house. He’s bound to meet his soulmate eventually. He’s sixteen for crying out loud! Mike met his when they were fifteen. So this mysterious soulmate of his has to turn up any time now. They have to. Ike doesn’t know how much longer he can keep himself entertained with stringless flings and flirtings with random guys in secret.

Ike sighs desperately, dropping both his arms above his head and onto his thin pillow. He wished he was tired enough to go to sleep already since he doesn’t have anything to do before the lights go out in the lodge. He peaks down towards the lower bunk. Ike sees his brother fast asleep, cuddled into his lover’s embrace. Two chests, rising and falling at their own different slow pace.

It’s not that Ike ever had a problem with Mike’s soulmate, the only problem is that Ike hasn’t met his and constantly feels lonely with the presence of the couple. Ike didn’t believe his brother when he said his soulmate turned out to be Jo Jo. Not only is Jo Jo practically a total opposite of Mike, Jo Jo is also out of his league. There’s no way a kind hearted, properly brought up, bright smiled boy would end up with a scruffy idiot like his brother. But the more time he spends with the two, the more he sees how compatible they are with each other.

Ike is happy that they found someone to make each other happy, even in their sleep. He’s just sad for himself that he hasn’t found the one for him yet. Third wheeling is the worst thing Ike has ever discovered in his life.

He sits back up properly, letting both legs dangle freely down the bunk. Ike puts on his newsie cap and his vest that was left hanging on the bedpost before jumping down the bunk.

Unfortunately he wasn’t being careful and accidentally woke someone below him from the loud thud his feet made when it came in contact with the old wooden floor of the lodge.

“Where are you… going?” a voice groaned.

Ike turns his head towards the lower bunk to see Mike lifting his head up slightly from where it was resting, rubbing his eyes a little bit to enhance his vision. He’d sit up straight, but one of his hands is strapped down to the mattress by a certain head full of brown curls.

“Not tired yet. Think I’ll get myself busy” Ike replied. Before turning back to his original direction, he catches his brother’s eyes before he lets himself fall back asleep again, “Got a pack?”

Mike snorts to himself with an eye roll, but it ends with a low chuckle. He gestures his head towards his vest left hanging up high on the bedpost, “Check my vest. I’se think there’s still half in there”

Untangling the vest from itself, Ike sees one of its pockets forming a rectangular shape through the fabric. He slips his hand in it and fishes out a pack of cigarettes. His hand doesn’t feel the usual light weight of the tiny box he usually feels after getting himself a fresh pack. This one feels so much lighter, like there’s a lot of room in it. But Ike could still feel a few stems moving inside.

“Don’t finish the whole thing” Mike added.

Ike simply smirks down at him, turning around with the pack in hand. He calls out, “No promises!”

“Pay me back if you do finish it!”

“Also no promises!”

“Little shitter”

Ike turns his head around, and an offended look on his face as the twins’ old inside joke has resurfaced from the past. In the calmest way possible, yet still obviously annoyed, Ike voices out, “Fuck off, alright?”

“No promises!”

Mike laughs at his brother’s obvious annoyance. At the same time, Jo Jo starts to stir in his sleep. He stops laughing, directing his full focus on the boy shifting in his arms. Jo Jo groans as he flips to face away from Mike, letting out a long and peaceful sigh once he gets comfortable.

Ike watches as his brother lays back down, holding Jo Jo a little tighter than before. The couple is enveloped back by their slumber just like before.

There’s that jealousy resurfacing in Ike’s heart as his eyes linger at the sight of the lower bunk. But despite it, he is actually happy to see Mike like this. Being happy with his soulmate doing whatever. It’s a different kind of happy. It’s the kind that Ike longs for.

He pushes that thought away for a while, walking through the loud lodging house. Some newsies went to sleep earlier, somehow being able to ignore all the commotion caused by their friends. Some are also just hanging out with others while they wait for the lights to go out.

Ike chooses to be alone this evening. Accompanied by a cigarette or two, and maybe his own thoughts he’d like to sort out. He’d walk out the front door downstairs to smoke in an alleyway, but he knows the downstairs are currently occupied. Jack had warned everyone to avoid going downstairs because the borough leaders are having a little meeting.

So Ike decides on the fire escape, since it already leads directly to the alleyway. Ike slips out the window, instantly noticing the lovely evening air. His only view is a dull brick wall with trash scattered around the ground, but he doesn’t really mind as the street ambience makes him feel less lonely.

He notes the fire escape being a little wet, since it previously did rain a bit. He nearly slipped when he first stepped on the metal bars, but was able to balance himself pretty quickly.

But to no avail, his feet clumsily slips away from their grip on the fire escape. It sends him falling down with a loud yelp, passing through the little gap in the fencing reserved for the ladder and onto the concrete floor in the dirty alleyway.

Ike was disoriented when he rose back up from his fall. One hand on the ground to help support his back as he recovers from the impact, and the other rubbing the pain on his head away. He realized the pack of cigarettes is long gone. What he doesn’t realize is why the fall isn’t as painful as he thought it would be.

He glances over to his legs, which he realized just now that it was tangled with something else. Someone else. They were groaning in pain as they rose back up. He catches a glimpse of the face once it was finally lifted off the ground, smudge by a little bit of mud.

Oh shit.

Ike fell on another boy who obviously looks like he’s twice his own size. Not that he thinks he can’t take him on in a fight if he asks for one, but right now he’s too disoriented to even figure out how to punch straight. He quickly gets up on his feet, giving the stranger some space so he can recollect himself.

“Oh look, the universe has thrown me a little shitter from the sky to ruin the rest of my already shitty day! Is there anything you can possibly do to magically make it better?!”

The words were uttered as the stranger got back up on his feet, revealing himself to be a tall and muscled figure. The mud also got on a little strand of his dark brown hair and his eyes were squinted with fury. But Ike wasn’t focused on any physical features this stranger has. He’s more focused with the words that he uttered. Words that Ike knows by heart by now.

“What?” The stranger growled, deep and raspy. He realized the boy was astonished by something, but was certain it isn’t in any form of fear.

“Do you have any idea how much shit I get with that written on my hand?! It made me look like I’m a fuckin’ dumbass my whole life!” Ike started his little rant, a little bit of rage building up from the pits of his stomach, “Oh, but of course I’se stuck with a huge asshole that doesn’t know how to be a decent human being and give a guy a break!”

The stranger stays completely still, lips slightly parted.

“How do you think I feel with that?”

He shows his soulmate mark on his right forearm to Ike. A smaller font size and a longer paragraph written on his skin. Ike almost wanted to laugh.

“Hey!”

The two boys turn their attention towards the sound. Just outside the alleyway, right on the sidewalk where the rest of the world is, three tall men stood. There isn’t enough light for either boys to identify who they are, but given from the vague shadow they can sense trouble.

As the three men take a few steps closer, letting a little lamp stuck to the wall illuminate their figures, they reveal themselves as the bulls.

The boys activated their flight instinct, running towards the other end of the alleyway. The bulls chased after them while telling them to stop. Ike, being the smaller one, runs ahead and leads the chase. Hopping from one sidewalk to the other, crossing the roads without looking.

Jacobi’s deli came into view in the corner of the block, despite being unlit. Ike kept running towards that corner and took a sharp turn. He makes another sharp turn towards an alley, just next to the deli. He hides in a little corner the deli has created. He has gotten away from so many troubles by hiding in this ‘wall bump’ because people miss it easily.

He was surprised to see a large figure stopping right next to where Ike was hiding, huffing out heavy breaths of exhaustion. Ike said nothing at first, thinking it’s one of the bulls. He simply watches the figure hunching over their knees, trying to recollect themselves from the chase.

But after a few seconds, he realizes it was the same boy he just met at the alleyway. His soulmate. To that, he widens his eyes and gasps under his breath.

Oh crap, if he keeps on standin’ there we’ll get caught!

“Hey!” Ike whisper shouted.

The boy was still disoriented from all that running, but he was still able to pick up the voice.

He saw Ike hiding in the corner, but didn’t think much of it. To that, the smaller boy just rolled his eyes and grabbed him by his suspenders to pull him to the little corner to hide together.

Ike peaked behind the little wall hiding them to see if the bulls that were chasing them had passed. Just as he suspected, they were clueless as to where they could be. The bulls went past the alleyway. Until Ike was sure that they’re gone, he lets out a relieved sigh and turns back to where he is.

He was surprised to be met by a chest, but soon remembered that he had another boy hiding with him. A very tall one.

Ike looks up to his face. The details are much clearer now. Brown locks, strong jawline, brown eyes, ivory tinted face with a few smudges of ash and dirt. The face sculptured... so perfectly.

Ike only realized this now. Staring up at it, taking in every detail before him. Cheeks a little heated up when his head realizes how close they’re being. Chest to chest and Ike is up against a wall.

And the other boy… he stared back. Just as frozen and shocked as he is.

“I-I didn’t catch your name earlier” Ike mustered up the last bit of concentration to get that out.

“My friends call me Hotshot”

“Hotshot…” Ike repeated, nodding along without getting his eyes off of him.

“But… you can call me Tyler. Y-y’know if you… wanna use my real name” Hotshot said with a little awkward cough at the end.

“Oh…”

Ike has no idea what’s happening right now. All he knows is there’s a cute guy right in front of his nose, who is his so called soulmate. They’re hiding in an alleyway, and neither seems to want to move away. They were both caught off guard by the beauty their eyes are being presented with in front of them.

“I-I’m Ike, by the way…” Ike added on, realizing he hasn’t said his name yet, “It’s short for Isaac. Y’know, ‘cause my twin brother calls himself Mike and we wanted to-- y’know what? That’s too long to get into…”

The two share a heartfelt laughter. Their hearts pumping faster than before, the other being able to feel it right through their chest.

“So uhh… Ike…” Hotshot started, still staring down at the smaller boy, “About what I said earlier…”

Ike started to laugh, remembering what he meant.

“I’s want to apologize… is all”

“Y-yeah, the same goes for me!” Ike added, “Well, I don’t know if we should even apologize. We were supposed to say that to each other anyways!”

Another heartfelt laughter, sounding softer than the first one. It somehow made the moment even more serious as it slowly died down. Their gaze hasn’t left the other’s. Nor, does it seem like they want to in the first place.

“Ike, can I… try somethin’?” Hotshot suddenly asked.

Ike simply nods, not having any clue as to what he meant. The message behind that was soon cleared the moment Hotshot softly crashed his lips against his, pushing his head backwards and gently pinning it to the wall behind him. Ike moves his hands up to pull him by his suspenders. Hotshot brushes his finger on his jaw, angling him up for a better kiss. Their lips moved in sync perfectly and it felt good. Just like how they would picture a first kiss shared by a soulmate.

#newsies #drabble requests #ikeshot #ikeshot newsies #ike newsies #hotshot newsies #tw cursing #tw smoking #tw implied violence #tw light injury

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anxiouslymalicious · 4 years

Text

Losers Club Plus One Part 9

A Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series.

Read the previous part here or go here for the full masterlist!

A/N: Hi! As always, I want to apologise for being shit at updating but a lot is happening at the moment and I’m hella stressed out and hella depressed and hella anxious but that’s okay.

This is about 3.5k words and the usual warnings apply. I hope you enjoy!

Y/N didn’t question what Richie was doing. She didn’t feel she had the power to. So, instead, she tried to muster up the most confused expression she felt capable of. Richie, almost maniacally, pulled her back outside to the car and made her sit down in the front seat. He finally noticed her looking on, in a stupor, not moving. Her face looked almost blank, only a hint of wonder lightening it up.

“I- I can’t. I can’t just leave them here. We can’t leave them here. We are Losers and Losers stick together.” Richie told his daughter, gently cupping her cheek. He was hoping for some kind of reaction but, upon receiving none, let a watery breath escape his lips. He felt tears stinging in his eyes yet again, before adding another whispered explanation.

“Stan wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want me or you leaving our friends behind. He wouldn’t want me leaving Eddie behind.”

With that, she nodded a little, facial expression still unphased. Richie shot Ben a quick text, letting him know that he and the little Tozier would meet them at the library, that they had gone out for a quick smoke or whatever. Given that he and Bev started smoking like a chimney at a younger age than her, he thought the excuse sounded pretty believable.

Impatiently, he drove through the town. Richie’s fingers were restless against the cold leather of the steering wheel. He tried to distract himself, tried desperately to recognise the buildings around him, the streets and faces, something he could hold on to. Richie felt like his life was slipping through his own hands like sand, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t hold it together.

Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, face growing a grim expression and his jaw started clenching, all going unnoticed by himself.

What didn’t go unnoticed by Richie, though, was his presumed daughter’s hand on his wrist. He spared her a little glance which was all it took for Richie to step off the gas a little and lean back in his seat. He was still nervous, but the reassurance and worry in the big, familiar eyes of his daughter calmed him a little. Richie knew she didn’t hate him. He could read it in her eyes.

And he was right. Despite everything, she couldn’t hate Richie. He made a mistake, yes, but there were more important matters at hand right now. Besides, Richie didn’t love her any less, right? She could still pretend everything was alright. They could go back home once all of this was over and pretend it never happened. But, of course, it had happened and couldn’t be undone. The thought of Richie not truly being her father weighed heavily on her chest and would continue to do so until she knew for certain. And she feared whatever a stupid little test might say. Because, no matter what, their relationship wouldn’t be the same. Y/N felt like something had been taken from her, as stupid as it sounded. Because Richie was right beside her, it was just like she couldn’t look at him like she did before.

The town was slowly growing colder to the girl. Not weather-wise, no. She felt that Derry didn’t care about them. She felt that no one in that town would notice if they needed help. She felt that the town wouldn’t care if each of the Losers died, stiff bodies recovered later that day, not even a lousy newspaper article would be written about the bodies. And it terrified her.

“Dad?” Y/N whispered, voice breaking as she swallowed the lump in her throat. She felt the tiny hairs on her arms stand up straight, embracing herself. Richie, a little surprised to hear her call him that, tried to look at her as he was navigating the car through the streets. Quick glances were casted her way until he finally had the chance to properly look at her as they reached a red traffic light.

“Yeah, kiddo?” Richie now asked. His lips were parted as he didn’t know what to expect, brows furrowed in confusion, but also a little curiosity.

“We’ll be alright… Right?” Y/N asked, raw fear very prominent in her voice. She looked at Richie with the eyes of the child she used to be. Many situations popped into Richie’s head. Moments when she had been terrified, almost petrified by the pure horror crawling under her skin, as she had asked the same question. He had always had an answer. And he had always been right. Because that was easy. Like when he saw the little girl with her pigtails (braided by Richie himself) in the doorway of her classroom on her very first day of school. She had been incredibly intimidated by the other students, but he told her that she would be alright if only she went in there with an open mind and a friendly face. She did. Richie was right.

Or the time she was scared of giving a presentation in middle school that her teachers would base a lot of her grade on. She was crying at her desk, little cards with notes carefully written out were strewn mindlessly around the table as her panicked eyes were directed to her laptop, presentation opened. She was scared of failing her class. Richie told her that there was nothing to be scared of. Failing a class wasn’t the end of the world, he had failed more classes than he could count himself. He told her that she was incredibly bright, told her to keep him in her mind and she would ace that presentation. She did. Richie was right.

Or the time Richie had to undergo surgery after miraculously breaking his nose. He had never told his daughter how exactly it happened, but she had called a taxi to drive them to the hospital where Richie was quick to be put under medication and have a surgery scheduled. She was standing by his side in tears, broken heart beating painfully in her chest as she watched her father grow loopy. Richie had enough of a straight mind to lay his wired-up hand on her cheek and give her the most reassuring smile he could. She was scared that Richie wouldn’t come back to her, that he would fall asleep and never wake up again. Richie’s smile faltered a little as his mind reminded him that there could be serious consequences to a surgery, but he was quick to shake that thought off. He told her that it was just a quick fix of his beauty. Told her that she should follow the nurses, they would be taking care of her, and after a bit of time he would be as good as new. He told her that all she needed was a little faith and patience, and trust. He told her that he wouldn’t ever leave her to fight for herself like that. He wouldn’t leave her alone. She did. And Richie was right.

But now was different. This was bigger than a surgery, a broken heart, a presentation or a first day of school. This was much bigger. And now, Richie was the one to be terrified, skin prickling with fear, cold sweat on the back of his neck, with no answer on his mind.

“Yes,” he rung out, “If you believe that we will be.”

With that, the car grew silent again, the only exception being the Beatles, singing for Help. A bitter smile grew on Richie’s lips as he remembered the flyer for ‘Richie Tozier’s All Dead Rock Show’.

“There must be some kind of way out of here…” mumbled the man to himself, shuddering as he thought about his encounter with the clown.

Despite his talk with his daughter, despite her telling him that it was okay for him to feel love for men, Richie still wasn’t sure. It was still one of the easiest ways to hurt Richie. But he couldn’t deny that it hadn’t been as bad as it could have been. The thought that Y/N would support him, regardless of who he loved, comforted him immensely. It was easier for him to make the clown piss off.

“Said the joker to the thief.” Y/N continued, turning the bitter smile into a genuine. A huffed breath escaped Richie, a cruel, self-deprecating joke on his lips, as he was about to reply, but swallowed it down instead as the old library building came into view. He felt the tips of his fingers go numb as he thought of the story Ben had told them of his first encounter with IT.

Slowly, painfully so, did the car roll closer to the building before coming to a gentle halt as Richie gracefully parked the expensive car. Y/N didn’t waste a minute and got out of the car the second the car stood securely, marching up the stairs to the heavy front door of the old building. She thought that Richie would take ages to muster up his courage again, which was why she sought the peaceful distance, but to her utter surprise, Richie was fast on his feet, almost eager to go to Mike, the man who hadn’t got a clue of any of the shit that was going on. Blissfully unaware somewhere in that building, hiding away between the thick books. He was probably happily reading through his notes on the history of Derry, the unawareness a constant companion. Or so Richie thought. Because, in truth, Mike was fighting for his life with a man he didn’t think he’d ever encounter again. Especially not in such a cruel way.

Richie, surprisingly, didn’t enter the library with a bang. Something held him back. It was like something was trying to quieten him, to make his and his daughter’s presence unknown to whoever or whatever else was in the building with them.

Y/N felt cold as she watched the eerily quiet library.

“Is Mike late or-“ she started, but didn’t get to finish her sentence for Richie shushed her, not letting her utter another sound. At first, just for a few seconds, she didn’t understand, an uncomfortable coil tied up in her chest. That was, until she saw the pure focus on Richie’s face. Furrowed eyebrows, tongue poking out just a little between his lips as he strained his old ears, hoping to pick up the faint sounds yet again.

And suddenly, she did too. The grunts were quiet, almost not audible if they had as much as walked through the library, searching the bookshelves. It seemed that even the lightest breeze could have drowned the sounds out, but once they heard them, they were there. And neither of the pair had any kind of doubt. Someone was struggling. Badly.

“Stay here.” Richie grumbled out before falling into a sprint. As quickly as he could, he moved up the stairs, hoping for the grunts to grow louder, to grow more present, but most importantly, he was hoping that they wouldn’t stop.

A glint of light caught Richie’s eye. A glass case was attached to one of the dark walls. An axe to be used in case of emergency, as the sign told him. Presumably, in case of a fire. The man jerked his clothed elbow against the glass, shattering it easily.

“This is an emergency after all.” Richie said to himself before turning around and running further upstairs. His lungs were burning with the effort. Something he wasn’t used to anymore. It was at that moment that he cursed his younger self for picking up that very first cigarette, the thing of all evil, basically. He shook his head. No time for thoughts of that sort.

It wasn’t until he reached the top of the stairs that the grunts and screams finally seemed close. And they were. Behind the door, Richie was met with the back of someone kneeling above his friend. Things weren’t looking good for Mikey. Richie didn’t even feel as though he was the one acting in that moment. He liked to think that it was some weird out-of-body experience, controlled by the pure adrenaline pumping through his veins, fueling his body.

Y/N had been hot on his trail, running just after him. She didn’t feel safe on her own, not even with the assurance of the mirror shard still in her pocket as a weapon. She arrived just in time to watch as her father raised the axe and rammed it into the man’s head, not a trace of hesitation in his actions. It was almost frightening to watch the lifeless body slump to the ground. Y/N almost felt like she could watch the life seep out of the man’s body with every drop of blood that left his body. Richie tried to make a joke, but was interrupted by his own body as he doubled over, emptying his stomach as a shrill scream escaped his daughter’s lips.

Y/N stumbled back, falling against the wall behind her, only to slide down to the ground. She too felt sick to the pit of her stomach, but she tried to suppress the bile from coming up. Instead, she scooted closer to the wall, instinctively curled up against the cooling surface as she watched the crimson stain the ground, the puddle growing bigger by the second.

Hands clasped together before her mouth in disbelief, she tried her best to breathe evenly, but any rational thought had left her brain. Y/N felt cold, her body shook heavily with fear clawing at her. It wasn’t until she heard a different scream, a feminine voice, that she noticed how her father was desperately trying to catch her attention, blocking her view of the body with his own body.

The other Losers filled the room, one more shocked than the other. Eddie’s face was almost as white as the gauze on his cheek when he entered the room, anxious eyes immediately analysing the situation. Until his eyes finally found the Toziers sitting on the ground, Richie desperately trying to get any kind of reaction out of Y/N, any reaction other than fear. Eddie shot Mike, who was still on the ground, a sympathetic smile before dropping to his knees by the duo.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, it’s uncle Eds. It’s alright, you’re alright.” Eddie muttered as the rest of the bunch took care of Bowers’ body and Mike, who felt as shaky as a leaf in late autumn months.

Slowly, her eyes travelled to the smaller man, the fear never leaving them, but they were moving. She was with them.

“Uncle Eds?” Richie whispered to himself as he leaned against the wall next to Y/N, letting Eddie take over for a moment. His hand stayed on her knee though, eyes intently watching their every move.

Ragged breaths escaped her pale lips.

“You’re alright. We’re all alright.” Eddie continued his soothing mantra.

“Dad- the man- he killed him-“ her gaze jumped between the two men in front of her, her instincts tried to get another look at the dead body, but Eddie wouldn’t let her, hoping that his body would fully block the view as Richie kept her body planted in place, gently but firmly, with his arm around her shoulders.

“It was self-defence. He needed to do that.”

“But- but-“ her lips quivered terribly as she looked up at Eddie, eyes huge. Her mind had a hard time understanding just what was happening, but it was slowly catching up with the situation. “I’m scared.” She finally whimpered out and with that, the dam broke and fat tears rolled down her reddened cheeks.

Eddie and Richie both embraced the girl as she broke down. The other Losers watched with sorrow, watched as the little girl broke down. Mike, who felt like he was the one at fault to put her through all of this, felt a stabbing pain in his chest as a few tears of his own managed to push past the barrier. The other Losers didn’t feel any less to blame, though. Each of them were thinking about what they could have done to protect her rather than stand by and watch as the town, but mostly IT, mercilessly tore her down, broke her spirit until nothing would be left, not even a will to survive.

Silently, Bev looked over her shoulder at Ben and Mike, both sat on the ground, who only needed the one pained expression on her face. They understood. No words needed to be spoken.

“It’s okay to be scared. But you can’t let the fear take over you. Not now. You’re stronger than that.” Eddie explained to the girl, feeling her tears against his clothes. His chin was resting on top of her head. Suddenly, a stinging sensation in his cheek made him cringe, but it was quickly replaced by his heart feeling as though someone was squeezing it tightly. Richie had nuzzled his own head against both of their heads. And with that, Eddie suddenly realised just how close he was to Richie. Arms embracing not only Y/N, but also each other, clinging to each other, Richie’s head lovingly nudging Eddie’s cheek, the closeness of their hands-

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Said Y/N, pushing out of the warming embrace, accidentally breaking the two lovers apart, as she stumbled just out the door to empty her stomach.

“Are you alright?” Ben finally asked, looking towards Mike. Richie, who was helping his friend get back to his feet, trying to put some distance between himself and Eddie. It felt so nice, embracing his daughter with the man he loved, but at the same time, it was intimidating. He still had no reassurance, nor did he have the courage to confess to Eddie how he felt.

“No, I’m not! I just fucking killed someone!” Richie replied, confused at the stupid question. Ben and Mike looked at each other carefully for a moment.

“I was talking to Mike.” He continued, earning an almost insulted glare from Richie. Y/N was coming back into the room, eyes travelling from Richie to Eddie, sadly realising the distance them. It was strange to her, watching them bicker and move closer with every ‘your mom’ joke they made, hold onto each other in moments of fear and doubt and yet move away from each other as far as possible once they realised what they had been doing all along.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” Y/N asked suddenly, voice loud and clear despite her shaking body. All eyes were on Y/N for a second before everyone’s eyes travelled to the person she was looking at. Eddie.

“Oh… uh… Bowers stabbed me.” Eddie replied, feeling not only Y/N’s eyes on him. Richie was eyeing him carefully, worry flooding him. He wasn’t there, he could have helped. But he was too busy being a coward to protect one of his closest friends, the man he admittedly liked in a romantic way.

Richie watched as Y/N stepped closer to Eddie, eyes not leaving the huge white patch on his face that had gone unnoticed as the adrenaline took hold over their bodies yet again that day. Richie bit his lip, trying to bite away the familiar stinging of tears behind his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, not there, not then.

Y/N hugged Eddie tightly. He was a little thrown off-guard, hesitating just a little before embracing her too.

“I feel like we can’t be trusted on our own. We’ll just end up hurt.” She said seriously, causing the group to chuckle a little.

Something was strange about the sound. Mike examined the group for a moment. Then, he felt his heartbeat quicken as he looked around the room and saw all the Losers, minus one.

“Where is Bill?”

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Taglist (let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!)

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 4 years

Text

A night before

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Reader

Word Count: 1,5K

Warnings: Death, Angst. Like hella lots of angst. A bit of fluff. Erwin a little bit out of chracter

Summary: You talk with Erwin at night before the final expedition.

A/N: I was writing an Erwin story for a while and finally managed to finish something :)

Comments are welcome as always. English isn’t my fist language, so please be patient with me.

Tags are opened.

“Are you not gonna say anything?” you looked up to be met with the blue eyes of your Commander. Eyes that were an anchor not only for you but for all the soldiers that decided to join the Survey Corps. He was the definition of hope. A belief that every and each of the soldiers were really fighting for freedom. Under his command, the dreams and stupid gossips of the outside world had an opportunity to become true.

As a teenager, you saw the Survey Corps coming back from one of their explorations. They were all beaten and hurt. But there was one person, with eyes stern and unmoved. There was a determination you have never seen before in any other soldier. It was then you knew you would join the Survey Corps.

“Not like you ever listen”, you murmured, bringing a soft, quiet chuckle out of him. It was rare, but there were moments when he showed the real him to the people he trusted most. Little jokes, the ideologies, that were too dangerous to be spoken outside of the Camp, and the little smiles and laughs he gave to his people, that would raise the morale spectacularly.

You were the best in the class. With everyone expecting you to join the Police Brigade. However, this was never your destination. You hated these lazy, scaredy cats inside the Wall, who only opened their mouth, when they knew they were safe.

You wanted something more. You wanted to know what is outside of these Walls. You wanted to see what the soldiers saw. You wanted to try yourself, even if that meant you would die.

“Everybody dies”, you answered, when your Commander once asked you if you’re ready to die.

The beginnings weren’t easy. Training was awful and you were hurt more times than you remember. But here, after seven years you are still a part of the Scouting Legion. Erwin Smith’s right hand after the Holy Trinity you liked to call them: Mike, Levi and Hanji.

He trusted you, and trained you, hoping one day you would follow his steps. He watched you fight with the fags from the inside of Wall Maria, and drink poor Pixes to sleep. This he loved to see. There was no one Erwin knew, that would be able to ever make Pixis drunk. Until you. A daughter of an alcoholic had that alcohol endurance in you. It was truly funny to watch General Pixis trying not to puke the last bottle of wine, while you were happy to open the new one.

You were something else. You had moments when he thought you were not ready. When you almost punched Levi for torturing poor Eren. Or when you almost killed him after he came back without an arm. You were a woman with a temperament. You reminded him a bit of Eren, but there was much more of him in you, than anything else. You were smart, and intelligent. Your strategic mind was almost as good as Mike’s. You weren’t as good as Levi with your equipment, but you weren’t afraid to demand some extra lessons from him.

Erwin was sure Levi would tear you apart, when you stumbled into his office one night, a day after the Exploration mission and, with a broken wrist and an angry face. You walked into his room and actually demanded he would teach you from now on. When Smith saw you both training a week later he couldn’t help but laugh. An honest to God laugh. You were something else.

But despite it all, you were also just a good human. A beautiful person with a kind heart, who worries about her friends, or family you call the soldiers in the Legion. Your anger at him was driven by the worry. The tears you tried to hold and only let them fall when you were outside of the hospital room, made his heart break into small pieces.

All these years ago, he decided. He gave up a possible family life for this life. For fighting Titans, for finding out the truth about his father and all this. He was determined, but whenever you came into his office, and gave him that soft smile, or looked at him with that sparkle in your eyes, he couldn’t help but like that warmth in his heart.

“I thought you came here to stop me from going.” You raised your brow and chuckled lowly. It wasn’t filled with humour, but sadness and irritation he was accustomed to when he did something wrong. “Levi tried…”

“And he didn’t manage, what makes you think I would?” He sighed and put the pen away, looking up at you. Standing at the window in a civil, comfortable clothes, with your hair down, you never looked more beautiful to him. Whether it was a true romantic feeling or a subconscious fear of dying tomorrow, but there was something that made it impossible to take his eyes off you. “What did he say? That he’ll break your arms and legs?” Erwin raised his brow and chuckled. You knew them all so well. “We both know it wouldn’t stop you.” You shrugged, biting your quivering lip. “You’re too damn stubborn to listen to anyone but your own self!” He smiled softly, sadly.

“You know why I want to go”, he tried to reason and you rolled your eyes at that. Of course you knew. “Why I need to go.”

“What happens if you die before you’re able to see what’s inside there?” You leaned on the wall and sighed, shutting your eyes. A way to stop yourself from crying. “It will all be for nothing.”

“You will be there to see it for me.” You widened eyes and turned towards him. He was comfortably sitting on his chair. His hair no longer in an ideal, symmetrical way. It was night time. You were both ready to go to bed. But neither of you wanted to.

“I can die as well”, you challenged and he shook his head. You frowned when he extended his hand,waiting for you to take it. Reluctantly you put yours in his and he pulled you lightly towards him. He let go of your hand and put it on your hip, leaning his head on your stomach. You froze. It was the first time he initiated the touch. It was the first time you were so close to him. It was the first time he was touching you that way.

Your breath hitched when you felt him planting soft kisses on your stomach, still not looking at you. His hand, slowly travelling up and down, gently squeezing you at your hip. You closed your eyes. How many nights you hoped he’d do just that. See how much you care for him.

“I met one of my soldiers about a year ago…” he whispered, inhaling your scent. Something so minimal but so sensual at the same time. “He lost an arm during one of the Expeditions.” He chuckled softly and got up, still keeping you close to himself. You looked up and noticed his smile. A sad, melancholic smile. “He was strong. He put some alcohol on the table and when I asked how he was doing he just laughed and looked at his wife.” You frowned and leaned in to join your forehead with his. “He shrugged and said nothing is as awful as not being able to properly hold his wife in bed.” He chuckled when your cheeks turned red.

You felt his hand travel up, only to cup your cheek after a second. He pulled away and looked you in the eyes.

“You can say no. I don’t know what that is, or how things will be. I can’t promise you anything. I just know I don’t want to be alone tonight.” The sincerity, tha pain and sadness in his voice, made you realise that even if it was the first and the last time you would ever be able to hold him like that, you can’t turn it down. So you just nodded your head. Unable to do anything.

He smiled and crossed the invincible barrier linking your lips together.

“You won’t die. I won’t let you.”

You looked at Levi, feeling a cold metal of his sword under your neck. His angry gaze on you, ready to kill you, only if it meant bringing him back.

“We can’t go without him!” He shouted, pushing the blade enough to bring a hiss out of you. “You of all the people should feel the same!”

“He had enough Levi.” Your calm voice, filled with tears that just now started to fall down your cheeks, made him pull away a bit. “He had demons taking him into the shadow the longer he stayed in this world”, you hand moved from the floor to the back ih his head and pushed him down, leaning his forehead with yours. “Let him go Levi. I did.” His eyes widened and he let go of the blade, standing up, letting you free.

“You love him.” He stated, turning towards his body.

“I do.” You sobbed, pathetically. unable to play strong anymore.

“Give it to me. I’ll do it. Make sure these kids don’t come.” You smiled sadly and nodded, giving him the syringe. “He loved you too, you know? In his weird twisted way.”

“I know.”

#Erwin Smith #snk erwin #snk fanfiction #snk fandom #erwin x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin imagine #angst #anime #anime fanfiction #anime fandom #commander erwin

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kaplanwrites · 3 years

Text

02.6 Michael

Part1. Meeting.

For the last 40 hours Tim’s going only on caffeine and taurine from energetics, empty cans of which piles in trash bins +and that probably will go to the chapter where Kon calls Dick to take over the meeting because Tim sleeps exhausted after rehearsing his major defend+

He probably should sleep, but he just defended his minor, and he’s unable to move anywhere himself. He doesn’t want to try to resemble a human being right now, to be a responsible parent to his - beloved, but much too noisy - toddler, to check the fridge for milk and cupboards for cookies. Everyone coax him, so he tumbles down the street to the local bar which is surprisingly more fancy that any bar placed near campus ought to be, and crumples down at the nearest table, bracketed by fellow red-eyed caffeine-overdosed pre-grads and TAs.

After a couple of drinks (Irish coffee, don’t hold on whiskey, double sugar), he spots that one guy at the bar. The guy… he looks exactly like him; the buzz-cut, and wide shoulders, hair black in a yellowish light. He sits at a barstool, shapely legs clad in too-tight bootcuts, and sips on something creamy - is that a milkshake? He turns head to ask the barman something, and as light catches on a thick rim of glasses, so does Tim’s breath. He probably makes some sort of sound, because girls notice his attention, and one of them - Trish, probably - heard that The Guy’s name was Mike, and Mark, who actually lives at the campus, says that they heard that The Guy’s dishes out to cover his tuition.

And Tim’s wouldn’t do that just to relax, but then Mike turns to stand up, and his eyes glint blue, and he even has a slight curl in hair, and Tim _wants_.

It is convenient, really, no strings attached as they say, and nothing would happen if he’ll be covert, and if Tim is capable of anything - it’s stealth.

So after Mike leaves to the bathroom, Tim drops his contact card on his barstool and makes sure to lock eyes, to flash trademarked Wayne’s smile at Mark, when he returns.

***

Part2. Sex.

Mike calls, and they meet at the hotel and they kiss, and Tim stops and starts to backpedal because “he shouldn't be here, he has kid, and Mike - it's Michael, actually, - probably has STD’s, and they argue a bit, and then laugh, because Michael is indignant and Tim’s nervous, and Michael make monthly checkups, and anyways his clients are improbable to carry something, and Tim wonders why he would do it, and Michael wonders why TIM would do it, he’s gorgeous and rich can probably pick up anybody anywhere.

Tim says that people on campus know Mike’s occupation, but no one knows his clients and that what Tim needs.

They kiss some more and gropes each other a little until Tim’s phone goes off, and he needs to go. He pays the whole, and for the room.

***

Second time they’re in a fancier hotel, with decent-sized bed, and it’s midday and Tim wants to watch him strip, and to touch himself, and they fumble on bed, Michael naked, and Tim fully clothed, and Tim fucks him from behind until both of them sated and spent, and kisses Michael shoulders before leaving cash on the table and leaving the room.

Michael’s eyes are actually hazel, but it doesn’t matter.

***

Michael offers to rub his back, or to get a long bath together, when on a fourth or fifth time Tim actually chooses hotel near city center, fancy and with spacious bathroom - because Tim’s always dressed in at least one layer, and stiff and rigid underneath and Michael begins to suspect some kind of disfigure under clothes.

They talk, well, Michael talk at Tim as Tim sucks him off while spreading him with fingers, that it will be okay to show anything he hides under clothes, that it will be good to let go, and suddenly Tim gets up with an obscene pop, and Michael’s eyes want to cross, but he soldiers on and holds Tim’s intense gaze as he begins to undress.

And then Michael just stares at the scars that appear with each discarded garment, pale skin crisscrossed with long gashes and peppered with barely visible burn marks, and Tim says it’s sort of fun to have father and two older brothers addicted to extreme, and then he chuckles when Michael's eyes slips to the puckered bullet-hole, and says that that’s the price for charity in Gotham.

And then Michael is too preoccupied with remembering watching on tv a shooting of a philanthropist teenager, who then spent two years on crutches, with the thought of ‘how couldn’t I figured earlier that dark gotham and gorgeous was anyone but a Wayne’, and then he’s too busy getting properly fucked.

***

Tim’s careful not to meet Michael after visible injuries, but he makes sure to visit him every other week. He has ready stories about mountain bikes and rock climbing.

Afterward, he feels more focused, and he lashes out at people (at Kon) less, and, besides, he actually enjoys Michael’s presence.

***

Part3. Wrong name.

He holds a Wayne Tech Gala, and he gives a ticket to Kon, as a truce. He thinks, maybe Kon chooses to go with him.

Kon brings someone; she’s not even a name, she is blond and beautiful, like Cassie, and she is starry eyes, and happy to be here just because it’s luxurious - unlike Cassie.

Tim drowns his bourbon and prays that Ted will manage their little devil for one night. Kon doesn’t even have the decency to look smug, he just shakes hands, and smiles, and visibly relaxes when his plus-one leaves to gossip; and Tim isn't even jealous or disappointed, he’s just angry.

That night he makes Michael fuck him, and maybe he’s moaning the wrong name all the way through.

***

One morning Tim’s in the shower, and Michael’s barely awake, and there are Wayne tech blueprints scattered on the table, and those designs are awesome, and Michael cannot keep his eyes off them until Tim’s out of the shower. And:

‘I'm sorry, the designs of that power source, it’s beautiful, even more than I’ve anticipated’ - ‘You know what those are?’ - ‘You kidding me? I’m in electrical engineering, that’s all we talked about at campus after last ‘expo’’

They speak geek, and Tim tentatively proposes to get him an internship in the WayneTech. They visit once together, and Michael is absolutely enamored with the lead engineer, Cecil Walters.

At the first day of the internship, Michael comes up to him and asks him out to a date later, when he will be able to afford to take Cecil to a decent place. Everybody in the lab is scandalized, except for Tim (who is amused) and Cecil (who think it’s hilarious). Worse: Michael’s absolutely serious.

***

One time Michael comes with bruises in interesting places. Couple others he refuses to come at all. Tim sees him at the campus, with a split lip and marks on throat.

Tim makes Michael’s handsy client disappear, and Michael doesn’t ask questions about his dean sudden retirement.

***

Part 4. Truce.

They speak, mostly after sex, and Michael says that he’s going to lose this job. Tim frowns on this phrasing but keeps silent. Michael keeps explaining, that he was doing it to get through college, and it was nice and easy money and that once he’s finished, he wouldn’t need that anymore, especially with WT internship. And anyway he already got rid of most of his clientele, but Tim was always welcome to call, and is still, but only, like, a booty call. For free. Because Michael liked Tim’s dick that much, and also was somewhat addicted to this hotel’s jacuzzis’

‘So it’s not about Dr. Walters?’ Tim asks, after.

Michael looks up incredulously from where he’s pulling his socks on.

‘Huh, nah, it’s not about him yet. When I’ll finally get my hands on that genius of a man, no jacuzzi in the world would be able to separate us’

Tim shakes his head and actually laughs.

***

Tim calls him the next afternoon, and it’s unusual. Michael checks if he forgot something at the hotel, or in the car, but Tim’s frighteningly careful with that. They meet in the half-empty bar, and Tim says, that he wouldn’t be able to keep Michael’s company during long nights anymore.

Michael turns his smile away to the window, and Tim again astonished of the striking resemblance - the rounded jaw, thick neck - Michael’s bathed in the evening sun, haloed curly hair, and eyelashes golden in the slanted beams.

‘Tell me it’s not about you’re turned off by the free sex,’ he sips contentedly his latte, ‘And about your blind guy’.

Tim’s brow pitches, and then he pushes to put a smile on, cold and fake. ‘Why do you think he’s blind?’

‘One should be positively blind not to see a guy that hot under one’s nose. He’s that second dad to your kid, isn't he?’

Tim remembers a photo in his wallet, with two of them, Eli and Kon, and nods. ‘Yeah… and he... He basically forbade me to keep seeing you.’ He chuckles, the smile genuine now. ‘He actually caught me red-handed yesterday’.

‘Huh,’ Michael shakes his head. He wasn’t sure how those relationships worked; he was sure that Tim was too busy for anything between his kid and his job, and his mad brothers and this thing Michael and Tim has. Had. But apparently, Tim also managed to nurse this crush on the other dad - presumably the straight one. ‘So, did he got jealous?’

Tim nods, then shakes head ‘it’s not like that, it’s…’ He shrugs.

‘...complicated.’ Michael finished for him, taking cliche from his mouth. ‘Well he better be good for you in bed, or I will need to step up again, and you know, I was going to get serious with our department head.’ Michael huff's, pretending to be exasperated. Tim chuckles again, now mostly for the joke’s sake.

‘Tim, you know I would know that you’re not having any, we’re going to work in the same place in two months’

‘I’ll be fine, geez. And it will be Mr. Wayne two months from now, so you better get used to it’

Michael rolls his eyes and finishes his coffee in one gulp then hops from the barstool, leaves a tenner on a bar for their coffees. They shake hands, half-awkwardly, then Michael half-hugs Tim.

‘See you later, Mr. Wayne. And Good fuck.’

#tim x OMC #text #02 #timkon

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girl-montag · 4 years

Text

killjoys’ origin stories (part 3)

part 1 - jet-star // part 2 - cherri cola

kobra kid and party poison

this one’s a bit longer, sorry!

he was done with classes for the day. walking home, he kept staring at the ground like he always did. there were too many things on the streets that he didn't want to see, he didn't want to be hurt by. he opened the door of their house, sighing heavily, something he would only do when he knew he was alone. except this time he wasn't. he heard a noise, like a thump, coming from the kitchen, followed by a “fuck!!!”. he felt relieved when he recognised the voice and made his way towards it.

his older brother was standing in the kitchen, cuts and bruises, dried blood all over his face and hands. a bag of (now broken) ice was lying on the floor next to his feet as he was trying to wrap one hand in a cloth. he finally looked up and saw mikey standing in the doorway. when he said “again, gee?”, sounding a bit disappointed, he just rolled his eyes. mikey pushed him into a chair and got a new bag of ice, putting it on the side of his head. “damn, you really had no luck this time, huh?”, he was now tying his hands in a towel to stop the scarce bleeding. gerard smiled, a smile made from trouble and mischief uncommon for a fifteen-year-old, that had always scared mikey: “you should've seen the other guy”. “mhmm, and what did the other guy do?”, asked mikey, knowing damn well that it was his brother’s fault, it always was, but not wanting to sound heartless or unsupportive. gerard looked tired now and mikey was sure it wasn't just cause of the injuries. he looked tired, but a kind of tired where sleep doesn't help. “he’s a typical brainwashed rich kid, mike. he was going around yelling shit about how this city is an oasis of tranquility, how we should all be thankful for the crows, how they do so fucking much for all of us... this guy that almost never leaves the house except when he’s in school and whose old man has a deal with bli is going to preach to us... he wouldn't shut up when i told him to so i wanted to make sure he did, one way or another, y’know?”. mikey nodded slowly. gerard continued then: “anyways, the teachers went crazy... i know this is like the dozenth time i've gotten myself in trouble this month but i think they’ve really had it now...”. he looked around the room trying not to meet mikey’s eyes, his gaze distant and full of guilt that he would never admit. mikey thought how the two of them weren't that different after all. “mom and dad need to have a meeting with the headmaster.”

***

“how don’t you understand!! you don’t take the pills, you finish in a bli detention centre and probably spend the rest of your life there, how is that better??!!”, mikey yelled. gerard was sitting on the floor next to him, arms crossed, defiance burning in his eyes. “taking their pills is equivalent to suicide. have you got any idea what you’re telling me to do? you’re telling me i should drown my own thoughts just because the city deemed them inadequate?? that i should become just another one of their puppets that obey everything, believe everything?? well guess what, mikey, yeah, i’d rather spend the rest of my life there, but at least i'll still be myself.”. the reason they didn't fight often, almost never, was that mikey made a promise to himself pretty early on: he won’t let anyone else be worried about him, ever. because everything hurt. the smoke in the air, the guns and night patrols, the rules, the way they were all constantly being convinced that they’re so fucking happy there. if mikey didn't try not to think about that he would’ve taken dad’s gun and ended it all a long time ago. one time he almost did, he almost pulled the trigger. but by doing that he would hurt everyone he ever loved. his brother, his dad, goddamn, his mom. and that’s the last thing he ever wanted to do. it’s not that he didn't notice the shit around him - he just decided to suffer in silence so the rest of his family wouldn't, not more than they already did anyway. and now his brother was doing the exact opposite. “how can you be so selfish?!...”, mikey screamed, scaring the living shit out of gerard, “i don’t care if it hurts, gerard, i don’t give a shit if it’s not what you want, no one ever gets what they want around here so why would you?! your parents, our parents, you think they’re going to survive losing a kid like that? you think mom...”, his voice broke for a moment and came out shaky and insecure after it, “...mom, who’s already fucking sick, that she’s gonna make peace with that?”. both of them were crying now, silent. “no one gets what they want”, mikey repeated and left the room. gerard was trying to wipe away the tears but there were too many. death has always lived here, he thought. so who’s it gonna be: you or them?, asked a little voice in his head. he went down to the kitchen and, still crying, swallowed two black pills.

but he wasn’t wrong. it was suicide. a couple of weeks after he started taking the pills, it’s like he wasn’t there anymore. whoever was that numb, quiet, obedient kid that was living in their house, that wasn’t gerard. there was no more laughter or joy, only shrugs and silence. their parents were terrified. terrified and helpless, thinking that just having him there, even like that, was better than whatever would happen to him if bli really got their hands on him. it was hard to admit, but mikey wasn’t sure which one was worse. but they all went with it. days, weeks, a couple of months. until mikey couldn’t take it anymore. he couldn't see gerard like that, not a minute longer, nor could he stay collected. he felt like he'd burst into flames if he had to spend one more night in that cage of a city. it was crazy, too crazy for him to pull off, but it looked like it was the only solution. they were going to run away. anywhere but here. he began by flushing gerard’s pills down the toilet. then taking a bag and filling it with water and food and clothes. then writing a goodbye note to their parents. and finally, waking gerard up: “come on, the desert is waiting for us”. the words ringed in gerard’s head for a while and he could’ve sworn his heart started beating just a bit faster for the first time in months. they were just down the stairs when they heard a noise behind them. they turned around quickly. their mother was coming down the stairs, in her night dress, the little hair she still had left hidden under a scarf, carrying a ray gun. “you’re going to need this”, she said and smiled, “i bet there are people out there in the desert who can teach you how to use it properly. and, well, get you another one”. they both wanted to say something - something like are you going to be okay without us, are you not against this, how the fuck am i supposed to explain how much i love you - but they got choked up on their own tears. “now give your ma a kiss before you go”. they did. and they all cried. and then the two of them stepped into the night.

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softlass27 · 4 years

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So... I had a couple of comments on my Robron foster parenting fic from last week, asking for more of this universe. I don’t know if I’ll ever properly write it as a full story, but what I do have are some little character profiles for each of the kids mentioned, as well as their ages when the Home Farm move takes place :)

Seb (11)

So Aaron and Robert had many (so many) discussions about – and with – Seb before they started fostering. They were initially very worried about the risk of Seb feeling neglected or sidelined by them bringing more children – some of whom may require extra care and attention – into the home. Robert was especially concerned about this, considering his own bad experiences when his parents took in Andy.

But Seb, being the good (fantastic) kid that he is, takes it all in his stride. For the most part, he loves having a big family, even if its not the most conventional. He was already pretty mature for his age, so he understands why sometimes the other kids might need some extra support with things. Before he came to live in Emmerdale permanently, his home life with Ross and Rebecca wasn’t exactly stable (thank god his dads got him out of there – he has a feeling that’s what gave them the fostering idea in the first place), so he knows a little of what it’s like to come from a difficult environment.

As much as he’s cool with his living situation, he does occasionally ask for a bit of one-on-one time with his dads, which they will go above and beyond to give him no matter what’s going on with the family.

Rather enjoys being the eldest – and therefore the leader – of the bunch. Aaron says he gets that from Robert.

Very witty for his age, and never without a good comeback. Robert says he gets that from Aaron.

Really likes cooking with Robert, and has been ever since he was just a wee boy.

Once showed his parents a 10-slide powerpoint presentation on why he and Eddie should get a super-cool race car bunkbed from Ikea.

Eddie (10)

Eddie is, well… loud. A chaotic boy. But a very sweet one.

He has ADHD, so he struggles a little at school and gets into trouble every now and then (mainly for talking), but for the most part his teachers can’t help taking a liking to him.

Eddie loves attention, but he’s harmless in the way he seeks it. Telling jokes, presenting pictures he’s drawn (he loves comic books and often likes to create his own), showing off a new trick on his bike or skateboard. It’s rare for his foster family to go longer than a day without someone hearing him shout, “Hey, watch this!” Aaron and Robert often have to gently remind him to use his inside voice, and not to railroad the others when they’re trying to say something or pick an activity.

More than anything, Eddie just wants to be noticed. He never got much of that with his mum, who fails to turn up for their supervised visits more often than not. It’s agonising for Aaron and Robert to watch him be let down by her over and over again, trying so hard to cover up his hurt by shrugging and saying it doesn’t matter, then acting like there’s nothing wrong by throwing himself into playing video games with Seb as soon as they get home. But one of them will normally find him curled up crying a few hours later, and it takes lots of cuddles, ice cream and a super hero movie to make him feel better.

Eddie’s only six months younger than Seb, which Robert was initially worried about (again, his memories of Andy coming into play there), but the two of them are thick as thieves. They’re kind of chalk and cheese personality-wise, but they actually balance each other out pretty well.

Will do literally any dare he’s given. This has led to more than one trip to A&E and more than one grey hair for Robert.

Theme parks are his favourite places in the world.

Would live on pizza if he could.

Clumsy as hell. Never put anything breakable in Eddie’s reach.

Lottie (7)

Lottie is by far the shyest, quietest of the kids. She didn’t bring any toys or games with her, but she did bring a small backpack of books that she clung onto like a lifeline. This gave Robert (as we all know, an avid reader) something to bond over with her, and he soon discovered that a way to get Lottie talking was to ask her which books she likes.

The answer, as it happens, is anything fantasy-based. The Narnia series, The Hobbit, Peter Pan, most fairy tales… anything with some magic and maybe a princess and she’s sold. They have a feeling her books have been a bit of an escape from reality for her in the past, so they make sure her bedroom has a nice little bookcase so she can keep them close.

Her favourite thing after reading is playing in the garden or around the village. Sometimes with the others but again, she’s quite happy in her own little world. Before coming to live in Emmerdale, she’d been brought up in a cramped flat in a city centre, surrounded by traffic and concrete. So living in somewhere like the Yorkshire Dales (and all the space that comes with it) is a total novelty to her. She takes to it like a duck in water though, loves the green fields and the streams and the animals. She’ll spend hours running around in the dirt (usually spreading it all over the house when she gets home, too) and becomes a proper country girl. Robert gets her the complete Beatrix Potter collection, combining her two loves.

Because she’s so content with her nose in a book, Aaron and Robert do have to prompt her to join in with the others sometimes. But once she’s been given a nudge, she’ll usually put down whatever she’s reading and interact with her foster family. She does like having fun with the others, she just likes to have her space, too.

Aaron and Robert have lost her in Waterstones more than once.

The biggest cuddler, and the most likely to crawl into Aaron and Robert’s bed on a weekend morning.

A huge fan of beans on toast, and therefore prefers Aaron’s cooking to Robert’s.

Cannot do maths. Will never be able to get the hang of maths. Thinks maths is the stupidest thing ever invented.

Has just one or two friends at school and likes it that way.

Takes it upon herself to be the one to read Tasha’s bedtime story most nights.

Mike (6)

Mike was initially the most… difficult in terms of behaviour. He was too small to do much damage, but his first few weeks with them involved a fair bit of biting and scratching, and he got very easily wound up. Lots of tears and mood swings.

Aaron was so good with him. Robert was too, but from the beginning Aaron had a real knack for calming Mike down when he was distressed. It took several months to really get him settled (he tried to run away more than once – not that he got very far in their tiny village), but with a lot of patience and the right support, they figured it out in the end.

Now Mike is much calmer, and much happier. He still has his moments, but he never lashes out like violently like he used to. He gets some additional help from the school, and Aaron and Robert both have a lot of meetings with his teachers to check in on everything.

As mentioned in the original fic, he’s really not great with the dark. But they’ve managed to work their way from him needing the big light on at night, to his bedside lamp, down to a single nightlight, so he’s getting there.

Absolutely idolises Eddie, and tries to copy everything he does. Aaron and Robert are both praying this hero worship will transition from Eddie to Seb, just so they can have a slightly easier life.

Also adores their ginger tabby cat, Pumpkin (named by Seb when they got her one October). All the kids love her, but she and Mike have a Special Connection, and when he gets home from school, he will not rest until he’s tracked Pumpkin down, snuggled up with with her and told her all about his day. He finds her purrs very calming.

Loves a good LEGO model. Him and Robert will spend hours on them.

Karate-obsessed. He’s been into it every since his first lesson, but has to be told more than once that he is not to try out any moves on his foster siblings.

Will inevitably lose most things. Toys, gloves, crayons, homework, shoes (one time while he was wearing them – Aaron and Robert still can’t work that one out)… he simply cannot keep track of where anything is.

Hates reading and never picks up a book unless he has to for English homework. Lottie is scandalised by this. Scandalised.

Natasha (Tasha) (4)

The baby of the group, and the youngest Aaron and Robert have ever fostered, which they were initially a little hesitant about. When they first brought her home just after she’d turned 3, she had very limited speech for a child her age. Even her crying was near-silent.

But with time, effort, and some speech therapy, she comes along leaps and bounds. Once she starts picking words up from her foster parents (as well as the nonstop chatter from the other kids), she doesn’t stop, it’s amazing how fast she gets the hang of it. Now it’s a miracle if they can get her to stop talking.

A very big fan of Postman Pat.

Will do almost anything for a chocolate biscuit.

Steals Aaron’s hoodies and uses them as blankets.

Has the biggest eyes anyone has ever seen, and her foster parents are dreading the day she works out that this helps her get away with stuff.

Can usually be seen wearing fairy wings.

Likes to sit on the floor and watch the washing machine when it’s on.

#yeah apologies if this isn't the most coherent #it's late and i'm rambling #but i'm already so attached to these babies!#robron #fostering au #my writing #also i should mention i have no direct experience with fostering #or being fostered #just putting that out there incase of any inaccuracies!

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