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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

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Until you are safe

Warning: Vision Hunt Decree still in effect, kidnapped themes, reader grabbed by hair (Thoma), possessive themes (scara)

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Albedo, Scara, Thoma, Zhongli

Albedo

The frosty chill of the mountain side was more than you could bear. Every time you thought you gained warmth it was ripped from your body by icy hands threatening to drive you insane. You shivered and wrapped your coat further around your body while you scowled against the frigid cold.

Ahead of you stood Albedo who seemed indifferent to the temperature and while you were impressed that he knew how to handle this without any complaints, you were also irritated by the fact. He was barely wearing anything and here you were shivering under countless layers of cloth.

He turned to tell you something but with the turbulent winds and nibbling frost against your ears, you didn’t understand a single word he said. Quickly, you forced your legs to move as you made your way to his side.

“W-w-what di-did you s-say?” Your chattering teeth made it hard, and painful, to speak but you did your best anyway.

“We are nearly there, can you keep going?” He narrowed his eyes at you but you knew that was a common thing he did. It was unlikely to have any additional meaning behind it.

“H-how f-f-f-ar?”

“Just around the bend.” He rested the back of his hand against your cheek and somehow that made you shiver even more than the touch of frost. When you nodded and began to walk forward, he took up position behind you and directed you toward the camp.

With the cave blocking out the wind, and several warming mechanisms already glowing, you stumbled your way in between them an the fire. Trembling hands extended toward the orange and yellow light while you watched the snow drip from your clothes.

“I always h-hat-te this p-p-part.” You complained, shaking your head and shoulders to warm up the muscles. This wasn’t the first time you traveled to Dragonspine with Albedo, but each time you braved the conditions you recalled the promise you made yourself last time. Never again, well ... I guess that promise was made to be broken.

“Here, this will help warm you.” He handed you a cup and immediately you caught the scent of fresh and soothing tea. The aroma itself perked you up and even though your fingers were still stiff, you graciously took the offering. Warmth seeped into your throat as the liquid carved a path down your esophagus and into the pit of your baron stomach. With a refreshing hum you smiled through the steam.

“P-p-perfect. Thank-k y-you.” Another sip warmed your lips and tickled your nose but you didn’t dare stop.

“This trip should be less strenuous than last time.” Albedo began, his back turned to you as he rummaged through the stacks of books. “Where did I place that ... perhaps it got caught in the wind, that would be unfortunate.”

You giggled, eyes watching him meander and speak to himself all at the same time. He had a habit of doing it but it never bothered you, in fact it was comforting to hear his voice, stabilizing, grounding.

“You ca-can head out. I’ll b-be fine here after I w-warm up-p.” The shivering had eased, but you still succumbed to the residual affects as your body began to shift from frozen to thawed.

“No need, I can wait here for a while.”

“Haha, that’s silly, g-go on ahead.” You took another sip of the cup and found yourself sad at the emptiness of it. That’s when a hand entered your field of vision and you watched Albedo walk toward a table, refill your drink, and return to your side. He offered it to you and when your fingers found the circumference his nestled against them.

“Until I know you are safe, I will be here.” His eyes held your own for a while as if waiting for your reaction, your response, and when you nodded he mimicked your action before slipping back toward the bookshelves and research table.

You were glad he left you, because if he hadn’t you were sure the only way to cool down was to step beyond the barrier of the cave and into the never-ending snowstorm that protected Dragonspine.

Scara

Being at the side of a Harbinger had it’s own trials. If it wasn’t the constant movement between assignments or the threats against your life, it was the loneliness which creeped in every single day. There were some Harbingers who left the life of love far outside of their reach: Signora, who vowed to never love again and instead put all her attention into fulfilling her duty, Childe, found love a difficult thing to ignore and did his best to keep what he cherished hidden behind closed doors.

Scara, he never understood the meaning of the word until it crashed around him like a house crumbles into itself, and the way he kept his belongings safe was to have them near him at all times. It was far better to be under the watchful eyes of his competence than leave something so valuable in the hands of another. So, here you were, following him around and staying hidden until he called for you.

The room was empty, absent of all the things you would have normally kept to make this place more homey. If you could get away with it, you’d have made some changes to the décor, but the problem with never settling in one place for long made this desire of yours difficult to accomplish. It wasn’t feasible, you thought to yourself but that didn’t stop you from adding a bit of comfort when you could.

The night came and went without issue and after you prepared yourself for bed you wondered where your lover was. Was he succeeding, was he accomplishing his goals, would he return to you tonight or would you wake up alone yet again. Luckily for you, you had learn to be patient.

Your dreams kept you occupied but there seemed to be something about them that pulled you toward consciousness, a subtle wish drifting across your imagines to wake up.

Something brushed across your cheek, but was it the dream or reality, you couldn’t tell. Gravity pulled you close to something sturdy, but was it a creation of your imagination or the real thing - why was this so challenging. When your eyes finally opened and adjusted to the light of the room, you realized what had been calling to you.

“Scara?” You pulled your hand down from behind the pillow, the muscles tense from being locked into that position for so long. “What has-”

“Go back to sleep.” He spoke and the sound of his voice pulled you closer to him.

“Is everything okay?” You continued your question as if what he said was never uttered, your eyes trying to find the outline of his frame while your skin adjusted to his touch.

“Nothing to concern yourself with, just sleep.”

“But, why are you here?

“I don’t recall needing your permission to do anything.” His words may have been direct, but you could sense there was something else behind them.

“... would you ... like to come to bed?”

“I can’t.” He adjusted and you felt the warmth of the blankets cover more of your exposed skin. The chill of the evening became blocked by the sheets and you hummed in response. You were confused, but the feeling of his hand running along your neck, your jaw, and into your hair made all the questions you had disappear. Moments like these brought out something completely different in the Harbinger and you wondered why he treated you so differently.

With a yawn, you turned into his touch, lips finding the palm of his hand easily and placing a tender kiss against his skin. “You don’t need to stay if you have work to do. I’ll be fine.” You hummed again as he thumb ran over your lips and the gentle pull of sleep began to find you. It was quiet for a while and you focused on the warmth, the closeness, the comfort he provided until you practically melted into the bed.

“I can’t do that either.” Scara whispered, hand pressing into the mattress as he leaned closer to your face. “Not until you are safe,” He breathed in your scent, gazing down at your trusting form beneath him. “Even from me.” He spoke as his fingers curled into the sheets and before he lost himself in you, he slipped from your bedroom and made his way down the hall.

Thoma

He ran so fast as soon as the news reached him. The weight of his feet as he dashed through the countryside grew with every passing second but there was nothing more painful than his clenching heart and anxious thoughts.

What have they done, am I to late, please don’t be too late. He wracked his brain over and over again, blamed himself for the stupidity of leaving you. If he had been there would the outcome be different? If he had stayed, would he have been able to fend off their attack enough to get you to safety. How foolish of him for thinking they wouldn’t use dirty tricks like this to accomplish their goals.

Rumors and intel began to swirl like wildfire and at this point he couldn’t differentiate the accuracy of it all. There was one thing he knew for certain, the vision hunters had you and he was going to get you back.

Their campsite was simple and you wondered if they would really be able to escort all of these prisoners back to the city on their own. They were intimidating enough to keep most insurrection at bay, but you were not about to let them get away with this. After a quick analysis of your surroundings, you found a few potential options worth trying, now it was only a matter of timing.

“You won’t get away with this!” Someone shouted next to you and you patiently waited for an opportunity.

“Shut up.” A soldier barked, his dismissive attitude apparent from the lack of eye contact and the wave of his hand.

“This is wrong and you know it! Do you think you’re immune to the decree, when the day come to hand over your vision will you?!”

The soldier turned and made his way through the trembling captured, you used the scuffling of those trying to get out of his way as an excuse to move closer to your escape. The dirt scraped against your bound hands and pulled at your clothes, but you didn’t care because each inch you gained the closer you got to freedom.

You watched the soldier lift the woman from the ground, his impressive height apparent as she dangled above the well worn soil. “I will do what is necessary for the Raiden Shogun. I am bound by honor, unlike the resistance.”

“Honor! You know nothing of it. Put me down you brute.” She spat in his face and he reacted in kind. You hated the fact that you were using her as your distraction, but hopefully if this all worked out in the end freedom would be enough compensation for her bruised face. Your fingers brushed against a metal handle, the sword you were aiming for had been reached and you quickly worked to get yourself free from the bindings.

The loosening rope told you of your success but when your hand wrapped around the hilt of the weapon and you moved to stand, a sudden pain against your head made your vision go blurry.

“What do you think you are doing?!” Shouted a voice near your ear. They were so loud that you shrunk away from it only to be yanked right back. “You think you could take on all of us? Are you stupid.”

“I didn’t think so.” You wheezed, blinking harshly to try and bring your vision back to clarity.

“Well let me help you understand.” He drug you away from the group but before you could take but a few steps, an intense groan blasted it’s way near you and the hand that held your hair fell away in an instant.

“Are you alright?” A familiar voice asked, hands finding your waist to steady you. It was like your eyes snapped back on because as soon as you turned your head, you found Thoma standing their with an expression you’d never seen before: fury.

“I’m - ouch - okay.” You whispered and then you realized the implications of him being there. Turning, you pressed your hands against his chest and pushed against him, your voice turned tense as you shouted. “Ge-get out of here! What if they catch you!?”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Thoma!”

He looked down at you, his arm tightening around you and you swore the world shifted red and the screaming soldiers shouts became muffled. “Until I know you are safe, I’m not leaving.” He looked forward and the glint of his polearm caught your attention. “Now hold on, okay.”

The dry landscape turned into a wildfire until only what Thoma wanted to remain, remained.

Zhongli

“This is very kind of you, Zhongli. To walk me home.” You chuckled, gazing up at him as you made your way down the path and toward the city. It wasn’t uncommon for Zhongli to escort you from place to place, but tonight you would have assumed he would stay on the Pearl and continue his lively conversation.

“It is no trouble at all, to allow you to walk by yourself would not sit well with me.” Zhongli commented matter-of-factly, his eyes closing as he nodded his head and gazed up toward the stars.

“You were having such a nice time, know that I didn’t mean to bring that too a close.” You scratched your forehead and adjusted your clothes after climbing the stairs from the docks. It was a rather pleasant night, but it usually was in Liyue this time of year.

“I would never insinuate you had ill intentions. I made this decision on my own, to escort you is no trouble at all.”

“Yes, well, that’s very kind of you Zhongli.” The lights of the festival swayed in the wind. To you they looked like fireflies in the sky, but that was such a silly thought you kept it to yourself. “I think I can manage on my own, if you want to go back?”

“Nonsense, I will stay until I know you are safe.” He glanced down at you and offered you a smile, one that spoke true and gave you the impression of ‘I will not be swayed.’

“Well, thank you.” You turned away from him in hopes that he wouldn’t notice the embarrassment you were sure shined in your eyes and flashed across your expression. How can someone so regal find your company enjoyable at all - but Zhongli was so kind to anyone you fought against your better judgement to believe this gesture was more than common courtesy of a gentleman.

“It is my pleasure. Did you have an enjoyable time?” He asked, head examining the city streets and decorations as you had earlier.

“Oh yes! Thank you for inviting me, I’ve never attended something so high class.” You fussed at your outfit again, it was apparent you weren’t used to wearing something like this but you did your best to fit in and not insult the guest who invited you to join him.

“I am delighted to hear. It is far better to enjoy ones time when in company you relish, don’t you agree?”

“Absolutely!” For a while, the two of you discussed the highlights and lowlights of the gathering. The sound of your laughter and excitement caught the attention of late night patrons, but you didn’t mind because it also caught the attention of the one you wanted the most.

It wasn’t until you neared your home that the conversation began to drift. Your heart was sad that the night was coming to a close but responsibilities held you to a tight schedule, even if you felt the itch to break them.

“Thank you again, Zhongli. This night will be one I remember for a while.” Your nails had received a break all evening, but, now that you were about to be alone, they felt the dig of your nervous habits once again.

“It was my pleasure, it is always a gift to spend the evening with you.” He bowed, his long hair slipping over his shoulder at the motion.

“I tend to agree with you.” Chuckling, you moved to unlock your door and when you looked back to Zhongli, his face was illuminated by the sparkling lanterns and yellow glow of the city. No matter what he did he radiated colors you’d never fully understand.

“Liyue has many festivals,” He began, his tone wistful, “though I must say the ones where lanterns adorn the city are my favorite. Do you not think they look like fireflies in the distance?” He asked, gazing up at a few that dangled across the bridges and walkways that lined the city.

“Yeah, actually I do.” You whispered as your eyes fell onto the man you loved so much it hurt to look at him, but, if it meant you could capture even a hint of his existence in your memory, you would happily suffer this pain.

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writtenonreceipts · 3 years

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a prompt?

single parent trope for feysand, pretty please?

more prompts for this would be great, otherwise you get my rambling mind and we all know how that goes...

Find my main masterlist here

An Intimate Display of Insecurities and Hopelessness

The air-conditioning was out. Again. And Feyre had already stripped down to a tank-top and shorts. The heat was miserable.

“Sweet mercy,” she muttered as she stood in front of the large fan she’d bought yesterday to try and keep things cool. It wasn’t working.

Feyre brushed her hair from her sweaty brow and bit back a curse. This day was not going at all the way she’d wanted it to. It had taken her far to long to get anything started, not to mention coordinating with Elain on how she wanted to participate in the shop.

It was only three days to her deadline to get her shop up and running. Three days to get pallets made, canvases designed, and interior design finished. All in one-hundred-degree weather and boob sweat.

She turned back to the mess of her shop. This was going to take more work than she had time for. Or sanity.

The front door opened behind her with a clatter. Feyre wasn’t that concerned about it, knowing she was getting some things delivered.

“Just leave the deliveries on the floor,” she said, not looking back. She was trying to have a vision of what she was going to accomplish, a vision that would be epic and glorious.

“Excuse me?”

Feyre spun at the smooth voice and nearly stumbled. The most attractive man she’d ever seen was standing in her shop. His black pants were crisp and cleanly lined and his black shirt was rolled up to the elbows, displaying his tanned skin. He was tall, lean, and with his black hair swept neatly back.

Feyre felt sweat roll between her breasts. Oh hell.

“Feyre Archeron?” He asked and took a step forward while holding out his hand. “Rhysand Avitas. I’m the new building manager.”

A dozen curses ran through her head as she did her best to wipe her sweaty hand on her shorts inconspicuously. Because of course she knew who Rhysand Avitas was. Everyone in their small town did. He was the son of the police chief and now the youngest elected mayor in Valeris history.

He had also been just a year ahead of Feyre in school. So she knew the kind of person her was. At least, she thought she did.

“Rhysand, of course,” she said as she took his hand. The heat didn’t seem to effecting him. Jackass. “Sorry, I guess I lost track of time.”

Indeed, it was half-past two right when she’d told his assistant that he could come by the shop. And see that everything was in order for her opening deadline. Except she hadn’t really expected him to show up.

“Not a problem.” He smiled in such a charming way that Feyre found herself wanting to hate him.

But Feyre already did hate him. He had bought the building just two days after her father’s death. Just two days after the building was up for sale. She hadn’t even had the time to get funds together to convince the bank that she could buy the lease herself. Now, she was going to have to open her shop under him.

In school he had been captain of the football team, president of the ASB club. He had been the kind of person Feyre had never wanted to interact with. High and mighty, proud and cruel. He’d worn a mask of indifference to anyone beneath him, she was convinced.

Feyre cleared her throat. “Things are a little messy right now, but it’ll be ready for opening day on Monday.”

Rhysand nodded as he walked around the shop. Bits of wood crunched under his too fancy shoes and dust clung to his pants when he brushed up against one of the pallets that Feyre was still trying to decide how to convert into a display case.

“You’re a painter, correct?” he asked. He looked over his shoulder at her and Feyre was taken aback by his eyes. Bright blue—so bright that she could have sworn they were violet. And damn her if she didn’t want to at least try and draw them.

“Yes,” she replied. “My sister does some gardening and does floral arrangements and I’m planning on having her sell some of her work here as well.”

“I remember,” he said, “Mrs. Ellis always made sure all of her classes knew about her protegee.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. The high school art teacher had been someone no one really liked. Aside from her. Maybe it was just because Feyre had wanted someone to pay attention to her, but the woman had always been nice to Feyre.

“My work wasn’t that good back then,” she said. And it was true, it had taken years of study and experimentation to get to where she was now. Ten years after those miserable high school years and here she was, finally maybe a little bit confident with what she could do.

Rhysand said nothing, only observed. “And you’re sure you’ll be ready by Monday? No offense Miss Archeron, but it seems like a lot needs to be taken care of. You assured the bank, and my assistant, that your shop was worth allowing in the complex.”

Feyre’s mouth pursed as she watched his man before her. With his impeccable clothing, that silver watch on his wrist, it was hard to imagine that he’d had any hardships in his life.

“Yes, and I keep my word,” she said, her voice cold enough to rival any a/c. “What I would like to know is why the air conditioning still isn’t fixed. It’s been this way for a week now.”

“It’s being looked into,” Rhysand said.

His gaze turned sharp as he looked her over again. Something passed over his face that Feyre didn’t care to try and understand. She just wanted this man out of her shop so she could get back to work.

“Was there something in specific that you wanted to discuss?” she asked, “or were just interested in questioning my ability to run a shop?”

He smirked at her and shook his head. “You always did have that fire in you, didn’t you?”

Feyre was ready to tell him to get out when a soft cry caught her attention. She held up a finger to silence him as she listened. Maybe she’d imagined it. Hell, she hoped he’d imagined it. Unfortunately the cry came again.

“Just a minute,” she said.

She hurried to the back of the shop where a door led into what would be used for the breakroom. It was a few degrees cooler back there, which was why she’d set it up for it’s current use.

Sitting up in the pack-and-play was her daughter. Seren with her golden hair and large blue eyes looked up at her and cried again.

“Momma!”

Immediately, Feyre scooped her daughter up. Seren latched on with a snake-like grip. Her arms wound around Feyre’s neck tightly.

“Hi baby,” Feyre murmured. “Why are you awake?”

It had only been a half hour since Feyre’d put her down, she’d been hoping for at least one hour of uninterrupted work.

Seren said nothing and only whimpered into Feyre’s neck. As Feyre whispered to her daughter to sooth her, she went back out into the main part of the store to find the diaper bag she’d packed that morning. In one of the insulated pockets, she found a bottle of apple juice.

“Here, honey,” Feyre said. Seren snatched the bottle and began drinking, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “Okay, there we go. Momma need to talk to Mr. Avitas okay, can you let me do that?”

Seren nodded and the almost two-year-old tucked herself right against Feyre’s neck.

Pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, Feyre turned back to Rhysand who stood right where she’d left him. The hard look in his eyes was gone and whatever hard-ass talk he was no doubt going to deliver evaporated.

“It seems I was wrong,” Rhysand said, “you do have some help, don’t you?”

Seren wiggled in Feyre’s arms to get a better look at the man, her bottle sticking in one cheek.

“Momma,” Seren said, her voice just slightly muffled.

“Yes, you are my big helper,” Feyre agreed, “even when you get into my paints.”

Seren beamed up at her. “I help.”

Feyre snorted a bit of laughter. Help. Sure. There were some painted handprints on the wall that aid otherwise.

“Did you have any other concerns you needed to address, Mr. Avitas?” Feyre asked.

He seemed so taken aback that Feyre had had her daughter in the back room napping that it took him a moment to speak again. It would have been amusing if the man hadn’t been so annoying to begin with.

“She looks just like you,” Rhysand said.

That was the last thing Feyre’d expected. She quirked a brow at the man. She knew it was true. Seren, thank the heavens, looked like an Archeron. There was barely a trace of her father. Something Feyre would give thanks for every day.

Feyre heart gave a painful squeeze. Of course that was what he meant.

She met his gaze, holding it for a long moment. Her hold on Seren tightened automatically, something she always did when she remembered her baby’s father.

“Yes, she does,” she whispered. Feyre wondered what Rhysand could possibly know. When she’d moved back to Valeris two years ago, just after she’d found out she was pregnant, she scrubbed her life clean of that man. Rhysand couldn’t possibly know who the father was. Even if he did, he shouldn’t care.

“Right,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. Once again, an un definable look flashed over his features, and disappeared just as quickly. “I’ll see what I can do about the air-conditioning.”

“Good,” Feyre said, “I’d hate to have to delay opening.”

And much to her surprise, Rhysand laughed. “Of course not. That would be rather inconvenient, wouldn’t it?”

He turned back to the door and looked as though he would leave without saying anything else, until he paused. He seemed to be having an internal dilemma when he looked back to Feyre.

“If there is anything I can help with, let me know.”

The words were halting and careful. Feyre wasn’t sure how to read them, how to respond. So she only nodded.

i wanted to add more to this for the first part, but well here we are...

tags

@aelinchocolatelover // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @emikadreams // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @highladysith // @fangirlprincess09 // @rowaelinismyotp // @vanzetanze // @jlinez // @cassianscool // @stardelia // @my-fan-side // @sjmships // @tillyrubes10 // @acourtofsjmtrash // @hellasblessed // @rhysandswhore // @story-scribbler // @post-it-notes33 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @strangevil321 // @whythefuckdoiexist // @pastasiren // @beanco8 // @lemonade-coolattas @foreverfallingforthestars // @surielandiareendgame // @feysand-loml

#feysand #feysand au #single parent au #acotar fics #acotar au #acotar #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #rhysand

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centrally-unplanned · 3 years

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The Liminal 90's of River's Edge

River’s Edge, a 1993 josei manga by Kyoko Okazaki, is something I picked up primarily due to hearing through the ‘net-vine of its influence on FLCL. Which is clearly there – adrift teens smoking on a bridge?

A smog-belching factory defining the grim normality of the town they live in, whose purpose is commented on to be unknown to the characters?

FLCL is a hodgepodge of cultural symbols and River’s Edge certainly part of the, uh, hodge. The parallels end there though – River’s Edge is *peak* josei in that it is utterly engulfed in the edgy drama of its high school protagonists. There is no way around the fact that this just isn’t a very good story, when it has plotlines such as boyfriend of Haruna, the main character:

1: cheating on her with her close friend,

2: which they do while doing hard drugs together,

3: resulting her getting knocked up,

4: which her hikikomori sister finds out via reading her diary (the 90’s!)

5: prompting them to get into a *knife fight*, the wounds of which abort the baby

And that is the most tame of these plotlines, trust me. By the time the gay character’s fake-but-she-doesn’t-know-it girlfriend *immolates herself* for attention you are willing to flee to the nearest monastic order to just chill out for life. This manga is 14 chapters y’all, you can finish it in under an hour, there is not enough character screen time to justify this level of drama. Its a classic early-adolescent fiction problem; your first time hearing about sex and death is so cool! So *real*! But once the novelty wears off there are no characters underneath, the shock is a magician’s misdirect so you don’t notice the hollowness behind the curtain.

We also forget how much the digital revolution has changed art in fast-paced, low-cost genres like manga by allowing consistency and polish; Okazaki is an accomplished, well known mangaka and some of these panels are so messy and detail-less:

Which isn’t a criticism per se as this was what the genre looked like at the time, and much of the art is great, but it's just to say overall this isn't a visuals-first affair. It relies on writing that just doesn’t deliver.

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At least most of the time, because in its overwhelmingly maudlin current are ripples of some really good moments. My standout is when the narrator voice goes poetic, setting up a repeated motif:

Even as it is a bit cheesy this motif still spoke to me, the “flat battlefield”, the power of that phrase the story imbued into it. A fight with no contours to its course, no metrics to measure victory by? You don’t need to experience a knife-fight abortion to get that struggle, my daily mundane life is that (obliquely, through a certain lens at a certain time when the mood is just right/wrong). That is the universal feeling of ennui and social displacement these kinds of stories aim to have empathy for, and that the rest of this story failed to achieve. And credit where it is due – main girl Haruna, who narrates this and through whose eyes most of this story happens, doesn’t really have much drama at all in comparison to her peers. While they do insane shit she just watches and helps where she can from the sidelines, defined by her listlessness as opposed to everyone else’s tragedy. The flat battlefield is exactly the kind of pain someone like Haruna would feel – this arc works.

From the social critic lens, what I think is more notable about this story is what it does not contain. Its universal aspirations are betrayed by how utterly of its time it is. River’s Edge falls into the edgy-punk sphere, but original punk was defined by its targets - The Man, The Establishment, the polluted cityscapes and imprisoned activists, Thatcher’s & Reagan’s right wing triumphalism, original punk knew what it stood against. In the post cold-war, mass-culture era of the 90’s, however, the appeal of those causes faded – how could things so distant and so temporal be the cause of such deep personal ills? It's often said that Japan predicts America’s cultural movements ten years out, but in this case it was right on time – 1993’s River’s Edge flows neatly alongside the 90’s American counterculture void.

But we no longer live in those liminal 90’s, that void between the intensity of the 60’s+ social revolution and today – we now have causes, but they are, ahem, as personal as they are political. Sad edgy teens are no longer sad or edgy – they instead fall somewhere on the Depressed/Oppressed axis, their condition diagnosed. Alienation is now a mental health issue (with treatments, certainly always effective yep yep, criminally underfunded and denied to those who need them), gay teens struggle for acceptance as a political cause. Even if the problems are inwardly focused, the solution can be translocated outward – change media, change language, change executive leadership, only then can the struggle be resolved. It’s the grand cycle of history – the teen edginess is activist again, even if the targets are wildly different.

River’s Edge never mentions the word ‘depression’. No one mentions therapy, or acceptance, or really any solution to their various problems - the problems are experienced internally but exist externally, a world broken only by a vague sense of ‘modernity’, if anything at all. The language in which this state of mind is discussed is now antiquated, a sort of radical acceptance of hopelessness as the natural state of man. Its aspirations to universalism have already been left in the dust of the changing times, an ill-fitting, out-of-fashion way of thinking even as Depression Fics dominates its former niche.

Which is why this otherwise-silly story still spoke to me, as I still resonate with that way of thinking more than anything else in vogue. I keep being told something is out there, but all I ever see is an endless horizon - and I am glad to once again share the view.

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Anyway, happy 30th anniversary to Smells Like Teen Spirit!

#River's Edge #essay #I don't read too much manga but I do aspire to change that #this probably ranks an 8 on the 'insufferable writing' scale but I had fun with it regardless #90's nihilism

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bakugohoex · 3 years

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hii may i request kind of a platonic levi x reader in which reader is part of the cadets but levi has always been like their parent figure and he's glad they finally make friends and looks out for them, thanks

“i’m glad you made friends y/n”

pairing: platonic!levi ackerman x platonic!gender neutral reader

cw: nothing

word count: 2100+

a/n: this is different to my normal stuff, literally just a parent child relationship going on here

summary: in which your parent figure levi sees you finally become a part of the survey corps, he can finally see people around you who will stick by and look out for you

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

We all know Levi grew up in terrible conditions and was taught how to kill by Kenny.

But this man just wants the best for you.

You were of course a lot younger than him, but he saw you as a sister/daughter to him.

Refuses to acknowledge that he cares about you.

This man will literally walk past you without caring but then in private will care about your wellbeing.

Erwin is definitely a father to you.

It’s already established, him and Levi started caring for you at such a young age that they’re just your two dads.

You don’t call them dad though or they’ll both glare at you.

Didn’t want you to join the scouts, Levi more, he knew the risk and he knew you; it wasn’t a good mix.

Refuses to let you leave to join the cadets corps, you sneak behind his back and Hanje definitely planned it all out for you to join.

Angry Levi couldn’t do anything.

You joined the 104th and instantly became friends with everybody.

Hard for Levi to visit you as much but in the two years he would send letters.

So cute right. No it isn’t.

Half of it is always an angry rant about how he hates you joining, and the other half is his anger at Hanje.

It gets better along the two years, even Erwin sending you letters

Parent goals.

When you graduate you see Erwin who gives you the widest smile and a big, I miss you hug.

It had been months since you’d seen Levi and he missed you.

His short self-will hug you in front of people, he wants to be nice to you.

But he hits your head for actually joining the scouts.

Cue your confused friends.

The ceremony to decide where you and the 104th would spend the rest of your lives, as everybody had started to leave, getting there stuff to follow their new commander. You went up to Erwin a smile on his face, “Y/n.”

You smile back opening your arms for one of his hugs that you had missed, even if you saw Levi every 6 months, you hadn’t seen Erwin since you left. Now here you were under his command, “Erwin, I missed you.”

He hugged back, lifting you up like a child, your legs dangling off the ground. It was the exact same hug you had felt in your years with them, you had been taken in by the scouts after your parents death. Never expecting to have finally joined the scouts you felt accomplished of having gotten into the top ten and now fight alongside Levi and Erwin.

“I missed you too.” He let go looking at your much shorter frame, “Levi will murder you.”

“Can’t wait.” You laugh hearing your friends call your name.

“I’ll see you soon.” You nod, he ruffles your hair before you run to your friends.

You had become a lot closer to those who had joined the corps with you especially Armin, Sasha and Jean. It was relieving to know you weren’t joining the scouts alone, of course you knew Eren the suicidal manic was joining but since the titan incident. You didn’t really know what was going on and would have to pressure Levi for answers.

“What did Commander Erwin have to ask?” Armin spoke, in the two years with them, they didn’t know a lot about your life. They knew your parents were dead but had assumed you lived with other relatives and not spent your days with the scouts. Of course even the scouts had to admit that teaching a kid how to wield a knife was a recipe for creating another Levi.

Which if Levi got asked about it, he would disregard the answer. Even though he was the first person to teach you how to use a knife and even the ODM gear, which made you a natural pro on the second day at the cadet corps.

“Oh nothing really.” You quickly moved onto how you were ready for this and how you weren’t worried at all.

You had always asked to go with Levi outside the walls, but you’d get the same glare with silence. Indicating a clear no, even Erwin gave you a look of no and that’s final. You couldn’t wait to experience real titans outside the walls, of course in Trost you had seen the titans but this, this would be with Levi properly.

The arrival to where the scouts were was quick, horses and an old castle which looked unclean was in your eyeline. You knew Levi had probably made his squad clean it, feeling sympathy for them and how Hanje was probably experimenting with her own titans. Meeting the section commander that would be in charge of you and your friends and going through your positions for the 57th expedition was a lot, all you wanted to do was to see Levi.

You really did miss them, but it was worth it all to be able to fight alongside them against the titans. All stepping into where you saw some men, you smiled which they reciprocated. Nobody had really asked anything about it assuming you knew them from back home. You all heard Eren behind you smiling at the boy. You had to give it to the boy he knew what he wanted, and he was certainly going to get it.

“Y/n, I knew you’d keep your promise to join.” Eren grinned out remembering the first day you both had met. You had been as adamant as him to join but your reasons a lot more different, Jean having made fun of you both.

But the horse face stood right beside you, a shock to the titan boy, as they spoke about the death of Marco it was a lot to take in when you and Jean had told everybody. Having both found him together, and it had broken you to see a friend dead, just another body in the numbers. Being passed the capes, you put it on before a voice you had missed.

“Y/n.” It was Levi’s emotionless self, you grinned happily going towards him. Eren had told you about how he had been in Levi’s squad, so you assumed Levi hadn’t said anything.

You didn’t care if they knew about the parental relationship you had with Levi, you missed him too much to care. “Levi.” You stood in front of him, “oops sorry Captain Levi.”

“Don’t say that, brat.” You suppressed a laugh.

“How do I look?”

“Tired.” He muttered; you shoved his shoulder at his remark.

You had missed him a lot, the letters and two-minute meetings every six months had not done your relationship justice. He grabbed your arms bringing you into a hug, which you happily took, “I missed you, brat.”

“I missed you too, old man.” You hugged back, the past two years having took a toll on both of you, him more. He looked even more dull and emotionless and you knew you’d had to talk to him about it afterwards.

He let go, before grabbing your ear and dragging you down to his height. He hit the back on your head, “ow, ow, ow” You repeated multiple times, his grip on your ear getting tighter.

“This is what you get for joining.” After every word he hit the back of your head, before letting you go. “When Erwin told Hanje and I you joined, I had to kill you myself before the titans got a chance.”

“Levi, don’t be like that, I’ve been gone for two years.”

He crossed his arms glaring at you, “Hanje wants to see you.”

“You just don’t want to admit that you wanted me to join.” He scowls before leading you away from your friends, their faces confused and agape at what had happened.

“Are they related?” Connie questioned.

“They’re not, she would’ve told us, maybe they’re dating…” Sasha speaks which leads to a horrified look.

Jean pipes up quickly dismissing the thought entirely, “he’s like 30 that’s gross and Y/n isn’t like that.”

“We’ll ask her once she comes back.” Armin spoke being the only sane one around in the group.

Levi had taken you to see Hanje who looked to be holding some sort of titan skin. It looked gross and both you and Levi gave a knowing look, “you missed me.”

In an instant her eyes moved to your body in the scout cape and uniform, she dropped the material squealing as she encased you in a tight hug. You hugged her back, missing her and her craziness, she let go before quickly hitting the back of your head.

“Ow, not again.” You muttered rubbing the back of your head after the torment of Levi.

“I’m glad Levi hit you, I can’t hit you anymore all I see are those cute eyes.” She pulls at your cheeks which seems to be even more painful than the hitting before letting go. “All grown up, I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” The three of you had a catchup on what had occurred, being filled in on Eren’s position and the plan that Erwin had thought up off. But even then, his plan had gaps and you knew he was keeping stuff not from the new recruits but captains and section commanders alike.

Levi took you back to where the recruits were, he left with a small smile, no goodbye as he waved you off whilst walking. Like an animal being shooed away, you chuckled shaking your head as you walked to see Jean and Eren looking angry at one another. “What’d I miss now?”

You had a hop in your step and a bright grin that your friends hadn’t seen ever, “you know captain Levi.” Eren had disregarded your question and was now asking his own.

“Oh yeah I do.” Is all you said, Armin passing you a slice of bed, you had a hunch the food had gone and were glad Hanje had offered you food due to her thinking you hadn’t eaten enough whilst in the cadet corps.

You bit into it, not knowing what else to say, whilst looking down. “Care to elaborate.” Jean spoke out.

“Oh he took me in when my parents died, I’ve been around the survey corps since I was six.” You bit into the bread uninterested in wanting to speak about your background.

“And…” Connie continued on.

“And there’s nothing else about it, Levi and Erwin brought me up that’s basically it.” You stressed the and, throwing the piece of bread you had ripped off up in the air and catching it in your mouth.

“You could’ve told us Y/n.” Eren spoke up, it was what everybody had been thinking but hadn’t had the guts to say.

You look at them, bread stuff in your mouth, swallowing it with ease, “I didn’t think it was important.”

“Important, Y/n it’s who you are you, it’s how you easily beat Mikasa for top spot, how you knew exactly how to use the ODM gear and kill those titans in Trost.” Eren’s anger was either out of spite or jealousy but you didn’t know what.

“Look I worked for that spot and yeah maybe I have been around the scouts longer than you have, but consider my point of view, they raised me and they’re family to me and I thought you guys were my family as well…” you pause staring at each one of them individually, “…clearly I was wrong.”

In an instance you leave the place, trudging up the stairs and leaning against the cold grey bricks. It looked even more uncleaned in person, a habit you’d gotten off Levi. You saw some lights come up towards you, seeing your ‘friends’ with lanterns.

“I’m sorry.” Eren apologised sitting beside you.

You whispered, “it’s okay.” As they all crowded around you, giving sympathetic looks.

“So has Captain Levi always been a clean freak.” Eren questioned trying to ease the tension.

You laugh turning to the boy, “that man is practically in love with bleach and a wet cloth.”

They laugh and the tension disappearing as Eren spoke of his time with the squad and how you all spoke about Trost and the many memories that you all shared together. Levi had come outside to see what the noise was, he saw you surrounded by your friends laughing and joking about.

A quiet whisper coming from his mouth, “I’m glad you made friends Y/n.” A gratitude that you weren’t alone and that you had people around you that would become your team when outside the walls. He knew you’d be safe and that not only had you spent the two years training for the expedition but how someone would always have your back.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @ukaisgratefulwhore @answer-the-sirens

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mxpseudonym · 4 years

Text

Permission

Pairing: Tommy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tommy helps you with your nerves about attending the family meeting by building up your... stamina? The logic is sound 🤔

Length: 4593 words (allegedly)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, cursing, orgasm denial, dirty talk, Dom/sub

A/N: Shout out to all of the anxious hoes that would love Tommy to give you all of his attention 😏

The amount that Tommy Shelby loved you was beyond what either of you had expected. There were few things he wouldn't do for you- the meek, proper church girl that Polly set him up with. Polly said he could use some sweetness, but Tommy saw things Polly couldn't.

When you asked Tommy what made him finally ask you to dinner, he revealed it was the way you didn't cross our chest when you walked into the church. You didn't sing the hymns, either. But you went to confession and wrapped your rosary around your wrists a bit too tight.

"You sin, love, but you don't feel all that guilty about it, do you?"

That seemed like ages ago now, but perhaps it was because your eyes were rolling back, and time itself seemed ridiculous yet oppressive.

"Sweetheart," Tommy's voice snaked its way into your head. His rich Brummie accent did borderline dangerous things to you. "You remember the rules?"

Tommy brought you back into his office, where you were losing your mind for the third time that day. You woke up with Tommy's head between your thighs. He brought you near the most perfect completion but stopped before you could get there. You were dazed by the decision, but nothing came between you and being good for Tommy. Even when he pinned you against the wall in the hallway after breakfast. Your wrists were above your head in one of his hands, and a knee was hooked around Tommy's waist as he pushed two fingers in you. Even then, with your body on fire with desire and embarrassment that the staff of Arrow House could hear the consequences of your inability to stay quiet, you were good. You followed the rules.

And now, you sat with your legs over the arms of a chair in Tommy's office. Your blouse was pulled open to expose your hardening nipples, your skirt was pushed up around your waist, and your knickers were on display. You circled your sensitive nub at the apex of your thighs over the blue silk at the pace of Tommy's choosing. Currently, that meant slow, feather-light strokes over material added friction that was making you salivate.

Of course, you remembered the bloody rules. You nodded with your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Ah, ah. I know how smart and capable you are, sweetheart. Use your words, love," Tommy encouraged from behind you. It wasn't fair, the way he skimmed his fingers over your bare shoulders, lighting up your nerve endings. His palm flattened over your clavicle, then came up to wrap around your throat. There was no pressure, just the faint reminder of all the times he'd controlled your breath. The memories made your hips jerk in a tight motion.

"Good girls use their words."

"Y-yes, I r-remember the rules," you stammered instantly. Tommy's thumb stroked the column of your throat. He felt you gulp down your brewing pleasure.

"What are they?" Tommy asked. You so wanted to ask if he needed help remembering his own doing, but his hands were warm and distracting. They cupped your breasts and pinched your nipples, one at a time, then simultaneously.

"I, I can't, fuck," you swore, cutting yourself off for a moment. Tommy paused what he was doing. He was a little mean today, but he didn't want to sabotage his sweetheart from thinking straight.

"What was that?" He tried again.

"I can't... I can't cum without p-permission. A-and... I have to be, oh god.... good girl," you recited the guidelines you were given that morning the best you could.

Tommy smirked. He loved seeing you like this. You could reach a point where you'd let go, and desire would take over, leaving no room for shame. Beyond that, Tommy knew you were nervous about presenting a damn good strategy at Friday's family meeting. If you could push away embarrassment in the bedroom, you could do it there too.

"That's exactly right, and you're so good right now," he said, kissing your cheek. He pulled back to whisper in your ear. "Especially when one of the boys could come in right now and see you spread out just like this."

"Tommy,"

"I might not even let you stop. You'd do it, wouldn't you? Show off your wet cunt if I wanted, hm?" He asked. You didn't want to admit it, but you broke down and nodded. Tommy reached down and put his hand over yours, guiding you to press a little harder against your swollen clit and go a bit faster. "Tell me, sweetheart."

"I would- I would show it off for you," you whined. Tommy smirked and kissed your cheek again. He knew how embarrassed you were about saying the filthy words, but he also knew how much they turned you on.

"Show what off?"

"My, my c-cunt," you said quietly, but it was enough for your hips to buck. Tommy swiveling pace was getting to be too much. He hummed in your ear.

"Whose is it?" He asked. You were in agony. You could feel yourself dripping between the valley of your bottom and vibrating against your joined hands. You had to stop soon.

"Please, Sir," you panted, "it's y-yours. Your cunt."

Christ, he could have you right then, forget everything that he wanted to accomplish. But he craved to hear you more desperate and aching.

"Good girl," he said, kissing your temple instead. Tommy stopped your fingers, making your hips jump to gain contact again. "I've got a meeting, so I'll have to send you home."

"But," you started, but Tommy gave you a warning look when you looked up at him. Good girls didn't make Tommy repeat himself when he'd already made up his mind. You pouted and looked away. "Yes, Sir."

Adorable, he thought. He really could just bend you over right there. Tommy gingerly guided your legs down from the chair, then handed you his handkerchief. If you weren't so dazed, you would have been mad. Again, no relief. Tommy brought you a glass of water and kissed you.

"I'll be there for dinner, alright?" He watched you nod, taking a sloppy drink with trembling hands. He almost felt bad. "How are you?"

"I want you," you said softly. "I want more."

"You will, sweetheart, you will."

You were useless. Not every day, but in the time between Tommy sending you home in one of the cars and listening to him enter the foyer from the dining room. Your brain was mush. There was no concentration on anything, but if you tried to be idle, your hands had to fist the hem of your skirt to not touch yourself.

Tommy came into the dining room and looked you over. You'd freshened up your make up in your need to move your hands and put on some perfume you knew Tommy liked. But he had more self-control than any person you knew. Nothing was going to help you find sweet relief outside of Tommy, allowing it when the time was right.

"Welcome home," you greeted him, your breath still shaky. Tommy approached your chair and cupped our cheek. You were already feverous. Regardless, he placed a gentle peck on your lips. Hearing you say 'welcome home' was his favorite part of the day.

"Did you get anything done, sweetheart?" He asked, already knowing the answer. No. Mary, the head maid, brought in wine, nodded to Tommy, then left. He'd called already to hold off dinner until you both retired to the bedroom. You were in no condition to eat, he knew. It would only make your stomach upset in your tense state. Satisfaction came first.

Tommy filled a glass half of rich red wine, then leaned on the edge of the table next to your chair. He brought the glass to your lips for you to drink.

"What have you been thinking about all afternoon?"

You knew what he wanted to hear. He wanted you to say those words.

"You touching me. You inside me. Your...cock inside my," you paused and took more wine, "my pussy. Y-your pussy."

Tommy looked at you with pride that made everything worth it. Though you said the words just above a whisper, you were extra obedient today, above and beyond. He'd reward you soon enough.

You were ordered to stand, and you jumped lightly at the scraping from your chair being moved away. Tommy's hands moved to your waist as he pressed his back against you, his hardness evident even while clothed. You knew what was coming. He was more creative than people gave him credit for. Tommy's ability to talk with authority entered the bedroom.

"Well, well, aren't you just a little whore today?" He asked, and you whimpered. Tommy's hands skimmed over your body as he found the row of buttons keeping your skirt up. "Ready for me to have you anywhere, in front of anybody. I could fuck you in the streets, let everyone see who you belong to, and you thank me for it. I could finish all over your pretty face and have you show all the maids and not let you come tonight. You'd thank me for that too, wouldn't you?"

Tommy chuckled as you nodded but also let out a gasp at the dangerous possibility. Your skirt pooled around your shoes now, and Tommy had you step out of it and kick it aside. Your blouse and slip joined the fabric on the floor.

You were left in the lingerie that he bought you with his initials stitched on the insides. You belonged to him. Tommy didn't tell you, but he bought them when he noticed you liked having him near to help with your composure. You were anxious about many things, especially after the war. Tommy buying underthings and saying, 'I want you to think of me against you when you wear this under those dresses,' seemed to give you a bit of peace almost immediately.

"Do you want to come?"

"Yes, please."

Tommy dragged his nails up the backs of your thighs, making you clench your hands at your sides. You squeezed your eyes closed when he had you lean forward, your hands flat on the table, and exposing the darkened crotch of your silk pastel shorts. It wasn't lost on you that anyone could walk in at that moment, and if nothing else, they were undoubtedly listening in.

Tommy took a deep breath. Between your whimpering and visible want, he was on edge himself. But before going further, he needed a taste.

You gasped at the kiss placed over the damp silk that was clinging to you now. A deep moan came from you when Tommy licked the length of you, pressing between your lips. Your hands pressed harder against the wood when he pulled your shorts aside and repeated his actions. You let out a sob. You were so close already.

"Sweetheart, you're not going to come, are you?" Tommy asked, though his whole focus was on how good you tasted, and how constant your wetness was.

"No," you sobbed again. Tommy's fingers pulled your folds apart to make way for his tongue dipping in, circling your entrance. You were pink and swollen and so sweet.

"Why's that?" He asked, moving away when your hips tried to push back for more.

"B-because... I don't h-have permission." Your ability to form sentences was dwindling as all effort went to digging your nails into your hands to stop your release.

"And if you come before I say, I'll take you over my lap and give you 25 spankings, isn't that right? And if you lose count?"

"We start over." You always remembered the rules. Tommy's lips wrapped around your clit when he hummed, satisfied with your answer. You cried out and felt the tears leaking from your eyes from the overwhelm.

"But that's not going to happen, is it?" Tommy asked, finally pulling back and letting you have a few moments to collect yourself. "Because you're going to earn it."

"Yes, sir."

You were guided to full standing again. Tommy nudged your chin with his knuckle, making you look at him. He kissed you so you could taste precisely what he did, and know why he couldn't get enough. You clenched your hands once again. His caresses alone could make you drunk on an average day, let alone one so intense.

When he pulled away from you, he wiped a fresh tear from your cheek. Tommy didn't like seeing you cry, but you needed to shed a few tears to release some tension. Still, he had to make sure.

"You remember the words if you need to slow down or stop, don't you?"

"Yes," you sniffled. "Pear for slowing down and apple to s-stop."

"Good girl," he said quietly, sending warmth to your heart. He stroked you your cheek. "Are you okay right now?"

"Yes, sir." You were still pressing your thighs together in need. "I'd like to earn it, Sir. I like being your whore."

Tommy's eyes darkened, and he knew his own underwear was likely ruined as his cock jumped. With makeup smudged on your cheeks and filthy words falling from your lips, you were as beautiful as Tommy knew you to be.

"On your knees."

He moved to the head of the table, stripping until he's only in his underwear as well. Finally, he sits like a king on his throne. And like a king, he beckons, and you crawl on command. He resists palming himself as he watches you, hot with humiliation mixed with the willingness to do anything for your relief. It would be too much.

When you reached him, you kneeled between his legs and clasped your hands together. Touching before given permission was against the rules. Tommy pulled his cock out of his shorts and watched you lick your lips. He could never believe that this was your favorite part.

"What do you want, love?" Tommy asks. Your eyes travel from his cock to his eyes. He always made you say it.

"I want to taste your cock, Sir. Please let me," you begged, no stammering this time around.

"Go ahead."

Whenever anyone commented on how naïve they thought you were, Tommy always laughed. Mild-mannered, sometimes easily flustered, of course. But naïve? Never. You always knew just what you wanted. A greedy sinner like the rest of them. And here you were, proving him right once again as you made him clench his own fists when you kissed down the base of him to pull his balls into your mouth.

You look up at Tommy through your lashes as you kiss his shaft again. But as much as the sight made his cock pulse, you weren't getting any sort of upper hand. He tsked you.

"Are you being lazy, little one? I thought you wanted to earn it," he taunted. He saw the flash of fear in your eyes as you were reminded that your release was on the line. "Give it your all, sweetheart. Use that pretty mouth of yours."

And you did. You took Tommy in your mouth, humming when you tasted the salty precum leaky from the tip. You licked up the side of him and ran your thumb smoothly over the head, earning a hiss. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed him whole, pressing your nose into the coarse hair at the base of him. Tommy grunted and grasped the arm of the chair to stop bucking up into you to roughly.

"That's it, love," he groaned as you hummed. Tommy placed a hand on the back of your head, holding you there for a moment longer. You choked but held still, quickly getting used to it before he let you up. Saliva spilling down your chin when you gasped for air, but you gathered yourself enough to keep stroking. Tommy looked into your eyes, and you trembled. "You want to come so bad, don't you?"

"Yes, I want it, Sir," you pleaded. Tommy guided you back down on his cock, moving in rhythmic motions as he thrusts into your throat.

Tommy was the first man you'd ever done this with, but he was a responsive lover, and you were a people pleaser. There was no room to argue the amount of instant gratification you got when you were on your knees. You were dripping down to your thighs at this point. Nothing did you in like the sound of Tommy grunting because of you.

He's almost in a trance at how good your heated, wet mouth feels on him. How obedient you are, clutching the cloth of his shorts as you take him. How unbelievable it feels when he hits the back of your throat, pushing a bit past it still. You're panting when he lifts you off of him with care. His own breath is shaky. He lets you both have a minute.

When Tommy looks down at you again, he can't suppress his groan. So messy with your tear-stained face, lipstick smearing as far as your cheeks. But so needy. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, ready for more.

"Stand up and take this off," Tommy said, motioning to your lingerie. You did as you were told, but left your garter and stockings because you knew he liked you this way. "Bend over the table again, love. Hands-on the surface."

"Y-yes, Sir," you said, voice raspy and thick with anticipation. Tommy removed his own shorts, his eyes never leaving your leaking, swollen cunt. So fucking pretty.

"Open yourself up, sweetheart," he told you. He wanted your legs spread, but you were eager. There was an unavoidable degradation that came with being exposed like this, but you were frantic. You reached back on your own accord, letting your chest press into the table while you spread your cheeks for Tommy. He watched your lips peel open, revealing those pink walls once again. He saw you clenching, ready for him. He'd remember you like this forever.

"Please, Sir," your voice cut through his thoughts. "Tommy, I... n-need it. Please... I need you to fuck me, please... please."

Fuck. Tommy took another breath before approaching you. He skimmed the edges of your cunt with the head of his cock. Your mouth dropped open, and your eyes squeezed shut.

"I'll give it to you, love." Tommy guided himself to your entrance, but you whined and pushed back against him. A smack came down on your fleshy bottom, clearing away some of the lustful haze you were in. You let out a sob. Every contact Tommy made was going straight to your core. "Do you not want to come?"

"I do! I'm sorry, Sir."

"Keep being good," he said.

Now, this was the actual test. When you were well stimulated, you could come when you felt Tommy push into you to the hilt. And now you were more than well stimulated, borderline overstimulated, and in a deep state of desperation. Your fingers flexed, still holding yourself open. Tommy ran a hand over your bottom and up your back, pausing between your shoulder blades. Heavy and firm, he kept you in place with one hand and guided himself into you with the other.

You let out long, continuous moans as he moved steadily into you. Too fast, and he would be done before you. You fit around him like a heated velvet glove, so wet that it was easy.

Tommy moved his hands to your waist, watching himself slide out of you, shiny with your juices, then rolling his hips forward again, spreading and stretching you to around him.

Your legs are shaking, and your forehead, damp with sweat, is pressed into the table. You've quieted, focusing on your breath as Tommy finds a satisfying rhythm. The little focus you have left is holding yourself together.

Tommy knows you're trying. He knows that you only have a little left in you. If this was another day, he'd use that to his advantage, forcing you into a humiliating punishment. It was your idea that one. It had been a surprise to him, but he was happy you dared to bring it up. But today, he was going to reward you.

"Talk to me, sweetheart. What do you want?"

"T-tommy, please...I'm your whore... w-want your cock to... make me come... Sir... more please," You laid out a choppy request between weepings. Tommy leaned down and kissed up your back until he hunched over to speak in your ear. His strokes were getting faster, but still long and deep, a snap of his hips, in the end, to make sure you felt all of him.

"You sound so pretty when you beg. You're being a good girl for me, hm?" He accepted your whimpers as confirmation. "Good girls get to come, don't they?"

"Uh-huh," you were to eager to speak. Tommy pressing against you, the force of his pace, his praise was making every piece of praise and want knot in your lower belly to add more wetness and sensitivity.

"Come all over my cock, sweetheart, and don't you dare make yourself quiet about it."

Every moment since that morning was coming to you now. All of the waiting and anticipation washed over you. You could vaguely hear your cries, as colors you'd never seen before flashed before your eyes.

"That's it, love, let go." Tommy encouraged. Your grip around him was almost painful. He kept pushing into you, milking you through it. You tensed and shook on the dining room table, your hands now fists next to you as you succumbed to your orgasm that was so good it was almost painful. Tommy pulled out of you and moved you onto your back.

He never planned on just giving you one release, and he was going to finish his inside of you, but he needed to collect himself for that. Tommy kissed you deeply, swallowing the moans that were falling from you. He pulled away again, but this time to find his way between your legs once more.

It was sloppy and soothing and so fucking impossible. Your head lulled back onto the table, shoulders pressing down as your back arched. His tongue stiffened and pushed into you, making you cry out in a way that would have sounded pained if you were following it up with a string of swears and 'oh god, yes.' He licked you clean, just to make way for the new rivers of come pouring from you. It was the gentle suction of your clit, careful not to overstimulate, that pushed you over once again.

Tommy stood, licking you from his lips when he looked down at you again. Your eyes were glossy, calmer from the relief, but still desperate. He kissed up your stomach, making a detour to take your breasts in his mouth.

He was so good at leaving himself everywhere, you thought. Tommy's hands felt like they touched every part of you all at once. You could smell his cologne, cigarette, and sweat that was so familiar. Your hands ran through his hair, and when he kissed you again, all you could taste was a mix of you and him.

Tommy was in you again and knew he wouldn't last much longer. But you were still quite the mess. You were still tight around him, and Tommy swore he could feel every quiver as you took him. He was faster this time. On your back, it was easier to find that sweet spot inside of you.

"Tommy," you gasped, your eyes rolling back as he hit it steadily. Tommy pressed a finger on your engorged clit, tapping it teasingly. But it was all you need for your hips to buck.

"That's right, let me feel you again."

He pushed you up the table and climbed onto it himself. You didn't have the frame of mind to think about climbing on the furniture as wrong. All you knew was Tommy wrapped your legs around him and kept stroking through your orgasm. His arms went under your shoulders, anchoring you as he didn't let up. His hips rocked and snapped hard against your pelvis. He moved deep in you, your pelvises flush against each other, allowing each move to brush your clit.

One orgasm flowed into another. There were waves of it, and you stayed continually trying to catch your breath while your legs wrapped tighter and higher around Tommy. He grunted in your ears, telling you how tight you were, how slick you were, how good you were. He couldn't get enough of your sounds or your body, your cunt, his cunt.

You cried out when his movements got rougher. Tommy ground into you hard, letting his grip on you tighten. He's wanted you just as much as you've wanted him all day. You're soft against him, hot and snug too. You're perfect. And the sounds you're making, new ones that he'd have to remember to get you to make more of, were perfect. The way your hips bucked against him, while his tongue ran over yours, cracking his resolve, was perfect.

You were still making those fucking noises. He releases, covering your insides with thick ropes of come.

"Fucking hell!"

You lay panting against each other, minds swirling yet empty. Tommy rises above you, looking down at your worn face. You're crying steady tears of relief and he kisses them away.

"Satisfied, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Sir."

Tommy pulls himself together first, not minding that he was shirtless, and his trousers hung low on his hips. He took the extra step of making sure you had your slip and skirt on, though. He knew that you'd be too flustered when thinking back at this night if you ran into the staff naked.

When you're safely in your bedroom, Tommy fully embraces you. He knows you're tired, but he has to make sure he takes care of you. He knew how upsetting it could be for you if he didn't take his time reassuring you after shoving you so far out of your comfort levels.

He leads you to the bathroom, starting a warm bath before he strips you, this time taking extra care to undo the straps on your heels and your stockings.

"You were such a good girl today," he tells you between kisses. You nod, only able to sniffle and lean against him. "I had Mary send for your favorite dessert. Would you like that?"

"Mhm," you hummed. Your stomach was already rumbling, so Tommy made the bath quick. He used the soap you liked, the one that smelled like lavender, and washed both of you off. It was your job to put on lotion while Tommy pulled your pajamas from the drawers. He put his on quickly, then had you raise your arms to slide the dressing gown over your head.

"You were strong today," he said, giving your cheek a kiss.

"I was?"

"You were," he confirmed it. He saw you internalize the adjective in your eyes and let a soft smile come to your face.

"I was." You nodded. Dinner was had at the small leisure table in the corner of the room, while Tommy told you funny stories about his day. You were too tired for much else but did let Tommy put on a record and sway with you before bed. You rested your head against his chest with a sigh. "I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

#Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby Imagine #Peaky Blinders Imagine #Tommy Shelby Smut #Peaky Blinders Smut #dom!tommy #spicy writing

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chaoticpuff17 · 3 years

Text

Something Wicked

part 10

masterlist

Jin had become a little less volatile in the following days, but he had become almost unbearably smothering when he wasn’t disappearing into his office to take mysterious phone calls. He always seemed to be touching her, kissing her. The man was practically glowing with excitement, and his excitement never boded well for her. She tried at least to enjoy the relative peace while it lasted. He hadn’t tried to initiate anything either. It was a relief for her. There was a lot she could put up with, mostly because she had to, but that was not something she wanted to give to Jin.

She had never like Kim Seokjin. He was not a good man, even before this, but now, she firmly believed that he was the devil. What else could he be? He was the subject of nightmares, the creature that mothers warn their children about. He was the monster her parents had warned her about. She should have gotten away when she’d had the chance. She should have quit all those years ago when she first realized how horrible he was to work with. None of this ever would have happened if she’d taken the job in the first place.

Her father had always taught her to try to find the good in any situation, but she couldn’t find any here. There was no good to be found in Kim Seokjin. In a way she was glad that her father was dead. She would have hated for him to see how far she had fallen. He’d always wanted a good life for her. Maybe if Jin wasn’t psychotic, and they had met in a different life one where Jin had wooed her like a normal man, he could have provided that for her. There was no chance of that now though. Jin had taken everything from her. He’d taken her freedom, her dignity. She had a sneaking suspicion that he had been behind Minseok’s demise. And now, he was going to permanently tie them together.

Jin had presented her with a ring as gaudy as he was, happily slipping it onto her finger gripping her hand a little too tightly for the gesture to be sweet. The large diamond was prominently sat in the middle of a platinum band with two smaller baguette diamonds on either side of the central emerald cut stone. It was a hard piece of jewelry to ignore. Every time she moved it caught the light drawing her eye down to the horrid thing. Jin was so proud of it. He declared it worthy of the future Mrs. Kim, but she detested it. Every time she looked at it, it made her stomach turn. She wanted to chuck it over the balcony and down to the busy streets below, but she refrained too frightened of what Jin would do to her if she did so.

He’d brought in a team of ladies to primp and poke her into the image of Kim Seokjin’s wife, as well as a team to groom poor Jinnie, but not before thoroughly threatening her. Jin couldn’t risk her asking for help. He couldn’t risk his image as Seoul’s golden boy. He was perfect, and his future wife had to be too.

Every time she thought of his dead eyed smile as he’d spoken to her, as he’d threated to kill Jinnie, to hurt her, a shudder went down her spine. It had been a struggle for her to keep quiet when the ladies had been there fixing her hair and doing her nails. Even if she had wanted to speak up, Jin was always there leisurely seated a few feet away giving instructions to the ladies. He wanted her to be perfect, his version of perfect. Her hair was styled to his specifications. Her nails were shaped and painted in a demure neutral color, because the wife of Kim Seokjin was to be a perfectly demure lady, and she hated it. She had never been a very vibrant woman. She’d always been a little softer, a little more neutral, but something about that fact that it was now being dictated to her made her hate it.

She was filled with the urge to take a pair of kitchen scissors and cut off all of her hair. She wanted to paint her nails a violent shade of pink just to spite him, but how could she? He was always there, always hovering over her shoulder. He was so thrilled with the idea of their wedding, and she had never dreaded anything more.

He was almost manic in his excitement. He was constantly bringing her wedding magazines forcing her to choose between preapproved flowers, colors, food. There was nothing that wasn’t already Jin’s choice, not that she really wanted to be involved in wedding planning. She knew what would happen once the wedding took place. She’d be legally tied to Jin in the eyes of the law and the eyes of the public. There would be no escape for her, not that there was much chance now.

She’d learned a lot about Jin during her captivity. She’d always known him to be meticulous, a perfectionist, but there was something about seeing him in all his psychotic glory that stripped her of all hope. He was almost obsessive, no, he was obsessive. Every detail of her captivity was planned just as every detail of their wedding was planned. There was nothing she could do to fight against him, not when he held all the cards.

“Hello, my darling.” Jin greeted her placing a kiss to her forehead. She was getting better at accepting his displays of affection, or she was had been well trained. Any rejection of Jin was met with violence so she kept herself calm. She kept herself gentle and passive just as Jin wanted her.

“How has your day been?” He asked sinking down to sit next to her.

“It’s been fine.” She smiled setting her book aside. She wasn’t allowed to do other things when Jin wanted her attention. Her focus was always to be on him. He was a narcissist at heart. Everything had to be about Jin. “Do you have anything you want me to look over?” She asked. Jin wanted her active and excited in the wedding planning, so she pasted on a smile and pretended as best she could if only to keep him calm.

“No, darling.” He cooed smiling gently as he played with her hair. “Not right now, we have almost everything decided. It won’t be long now.”

A thought she dreaded. Marriage to Jin was the last thing she wanted, but it wasn’t as though he was giving her a choice.

“What’s that?” She asked looking at the file resting on his other side. If he’d brought it instead of taking it directly to the office, it had to have something to do with her.

He smiled picking up the file and opening it up. “This? This is your medical file, darling.”

She froze dread filling her. What could he possibly want with her medical records? How had he even gotten them? She wasn’t sure who to be more upset with, Jin or her doctor, but the likelihood of her ever seeing the doctor of her choice again was slim. It would probably be Jin’s choice from now on. He was an overbearing bastard.

“We’ll have to get your IUD removed.” He mused flipping through the pages. “We’ll be needing an heir, and that pesky little thing will get in the way.” He looked back at her gently brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. “But we can take care of that after the wedding. I want to enjoy you before we have a son.” He leaned in nipping at her ear.

“A baby?” She whimpered doing her best not to flinch away from him.

“Of course, darling.” He chuckled trailing light kisses down her neck. “Mother and father are anxious for grandchildren as well. Seokjung won’t be much help to them in that regard.”

She stiffened even more at the mention of his brother. It was rare for Jin to bring him up. Not many people even knew the fate of the older Kim brother, but she had been working with Seokjin for years. She’d even met the man a few times, quite the feat considering how the family kept him away from the eyes of the public. The poor man wasn’t even mentioned with the rest of the family, not since the accident.

Kim Seokjung was set to inherit the company until there was a skiing accident when the brothers were in high school. Seokjung had ended up paralyzed from the waist down and had become effectively useless in the eyes of his upper crust family. He received the best of care, but his life was essentially over. Seokjin had risen as the only son and heir of the Kim family.

Of the two, Seokjung was definitely her favorite. He was a pleasant man, far more pleasant than the rest of his family and surprisingly optimistic considering the life he’s been thrust into. Assistants had no place in private family matters, but Jin had insisted on bringing her to the family home on more than one occasion, and that was where she had met Seokjung.

She first encountered him in the kitchen in the family home. To say that both of them had been surprised would have been an understatement. She had only been working for Seokjin for a year, and she had never heard mention of a brother, but they’d quickly settled into conversation seated at the little breakfast nook in the vast kitchen with a cup of tea that Seokjung had made for them himself. There wasn’t much for him to keep himself occupied now that he was effectively under house arrest by his own family, but he was excellent at making tea. He was also an amateur chef. She loved talking to him. The few times she had met him were the highlight of her time working with Jin.

One thing that never made sense to her was the accident. Both Seokjin and Seokjung were very athletic back in the day. Seokjin was still athletic. One of the things that the Kim family excelled at was winter sports. Seokjin preferred to snow board, but from what she had heard, Seokjung was quite the accomplished skier. They’d been to that resort hundreds of times. He’d skied those hills all his life. The conditions hadn’t even been bad on that fateful day, but something had gone wrong, so wrong that Seokjung no longer had the use of his legs. Now knowing Jin more, she now had to wonder if he had had something to do with the accident. She wouldn’t put it past him, not now.

“Wouldn’t that be nice, darling?” Jin cooed bringing her back to the present as he nuzzled into her neck. “A little son.”

“I don’t… I’m not…” He breath hitched as Jin nipped at her neck more harshly.

“You’re not what, darling?”

“I’m not ready for children.” She whispered trembling as she waited for Jin’s reaction.

Jin pulled away staring her down before a grin stretched across his features. “Not to worry, darling. We can wait a little before we start our family. I want to enjoy you first.” He purred nipping her neck again.

“No, Jin.” She whispered pushing him away gently. “I don’t want children.”

She had always been on the fence about kids. It was the biggest fight that she and Minseok had ever had. He’d wanted a houseful of them. She wasn’t even sure she wanted them. She’d never had siblings, and she’d cared for two ailing parents in her life. Kids had never really crossed her mind, but she knew she definitely didn’t want them with Jin. She doubted she had much choice on that either, but she had to try.

Jin frowned before pasting on an indulgent smile. “Two I think. Two boys. Doesn’t that sound nice, darling?”

“I don’t…”

Jin cut her off his smile becoming more strained, his eyes darkening. “You don’t know what you want, darling. That’s why you have me.” He pet her hair his tone taking on a condescending air.

“Jin…”

“My poor stupid darling.” He cooed pulling her up onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “How did you ever survive without me?” She grit her teeth restraining herself from snipping at him. She’d gain nothing from upsetting him even more than she already had. “Don’t worry, darling. By this time next week, we’ll be married, and you’ll never have to worry again. Daddy will take care of you.”

Yes, that was exactly what she was afraid of.

part 11

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts jin #yandere seokjin #ceo seokjin #bts seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin #jin x reader #yandere jin #ceo jin #ceo #ceo au #dark romance #something wicked #fanfic #bts fanfic

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shintorikhazumi · 3 years

Text

(Diakko Week) There’s no way she- (2): “There’s no way she did that.”

@dianakko-week

A/N: BOY, OH BOY. I DIDN’T THINK THIS STORY WAS GONNA GO THIS WAY, BUT HERE WE ARE, I GUESS? Please do enjoy, I’m not sure about the quality of this chap, but I personally am enjoying this story so far an I hope you all do too!

Again, Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Day 2: Trust

“There’s no way she did that.”

Diana was seething at her desk, Hannah and Barbara desperately trying to calm down their long-time friend with a cup of tea and some rationality.

She wasn’t having it however. Not even the tea.

“There’s no way. There is just no. Possible. Way. That Akko would so such a thing!” Diana growled, head whipping in the direction of her poor friends-slash-secretaries-and-attendants. “Right?!”

Barbara nodded wordlessly, clearly unnerved by Diana’s foul mood while Hannah sighed, moving the teacup away from the clearly miffed Diana before any mishaps could occur.

“Yes, Diana. We think so too.”

Diana released a heated sigh, nostrils flaring as she slumped against her leather chair. Today just wasn’t her day.

Never mind it being only her second week of being chosen for the grand magical council and being harassed with much work simply because she was the youngest to enter at the tender age of twenty-three. That same council of old pricks were now interfering with her personal life by giving her a case that made her burn deep with rage.

They dared accuse Diana’s girlfriend of magical misconduct when Diana-for a fact- knew that Akko read the terms and conditions of being a traveling magician- yes, ALL the terms and conditions- back-to-back. Back-to-back to back-to-back. Diana had found it both unnecessary and incredibly endearing, and sweet Akko- oh, bless her sweet soul- had wanted nothing more than to be able to share the magic of dreaming to all sorts of people, gain experience as she traveled; and hoped to overall just help people along the way on her cross-country journey.

Sure, she had left her incredibly stable position as one of the council’s security personnel, and the job paid extremely well- especially for people who were relatively fresh from school. It really did. However, Diana knew Akko was far from happy with that job. In a somewhat similar position to Diana, she had been made a lackey by her seniors and superiors, and though she loved helping people through her job, it just wasn’t worth staying. She couldn’t even be assigned to Diana! Thus, Akko had resolved to go independent, under strict supervision and conditions.

That had been five months ago.

Sure, Diana had missed the other woman dearly and hadn’t seen her for all that time, but Diana knew this was what the other woman wanted to do- to make people smile. She loved making smiles blossom from one person to the other. Diana wanted to support her in her endeavor. She believed in Akko and in what she wanted to accomplish.

And anyway, Akko had always made it a habit to send one of her familiars to bring Diana little souvenirs of her travels, accompanied by the sweetest words on paper, reassuring her girlfriend that she was well and good, and living life to the fullest, and that she’d surely be back in a year.

She was coming back sooner than they’d both expected, and for reasons neither had desired.

Diana ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, massaging her scalp to nurse the quickly growing headache.

She hoped Akko would come home safe at the very least.

“Miss Diana Cavendish. Could you repeat those words to me one more time? I might have misheard.”

“I said. I refuse to vote against Atsuko Kagari’s innocence. I know her, and I know her well. She would never ever do such horrid things.”

Diana watched the council secretary bristle, eyes burning at her response.

“You can never know someone too well. You don’t know what people are capable of. They can cha-”

“And I trust that Akko only ever changes for the better.” Diana cut off, casting her own glare over the two high council members who held the papers and a sum of money in front of her. “I know nothing of what the inner circle of the council has been up to, but I can’t believe they would try something so terribly scandalous such as bribery and false report! Dare I assume you are hiding something worse-”

“One more word from you, and you will suffer the consequences. Not that you already haven’t.”

Diana would have lashed out had she not needed to remain calm for Akko’s sake as well.

“This is our final offer, Miss Cavendish. Push for her guiltiness, or lose your seat in the council.”

Diana’s eyes widened, fists clenching. These people-

“You have no authority over this matter!”

She shivered in repulsion at the grins that grew on their hideous faces.

“Oh, but we do.”

Kagari Atsuko, twenty-three years of age, stood at the podium in the courts of magic with steely eyes and a rigid frame. She dared not glare at the jury nor the judge, but she would like to at least show them her determination in proving her own innocence.

Chancing a glance at Diana who was sending her worried looks from the jury stands, Akko reassured her with a gesture that all was and would continue to be alright. Returning her attention to the presider of the meeting, Akko readied her words, carefully crafted by herself and her lawyer who ironically just so happened to be Amanda O’Neill. Akko tried her best to keep a grin from forming at the hilarity of that fact. She was, after all, still on trial. She had to keep things professional.

“Kagari Atsuko. What do you have to say for yourself?” The judge questioned after all her supposed ‘charges’ had been read out.

‘Magical misuse, abuse of title as a former council official, trafficking endangered species across borders, and exploiting my audience, huh... Honestly, what a bunch of-’

“Bullshit.”

Akko’s eyes widened, and so did everyone else’ at the accidental slip-up.

“I-I mean... I apologize, your honor. I didn’t mean to say that. Ehem. I’d like to plead not guilty of these accusations.”

With brows raised, the judge continued on with the ruling, the tension in the room not once lowering. Akko just hoped this would end smoothly, and end soon.

She didn’t know what the council got out of this, to be honest. To go so far as to forge evidence against her, what had she done against them? Honestly, this new council, with almost all-new members weren’t doing a good job in succeeding their predecessors.

If the whole jury hadn’t been bought out at this point, she really could only hope for the best.

“Thanks for driving me home, Amanda.” Akko bowed to her friend, clutching her suitcase.

“Hey, hey! None of that. C’mere.” Amanda pulled her shorter friend into a tight hug, patting her back firmly. “I’m just glad it all worked out in the end.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair after they pulled apart.

“No kidding.” Akko chuckled. “You’re the best, bud. Totally fit for this job.” She giggled, as Amanda rolled her eyes with a shrug.

“I know, right? Obviously knew this is what I wanted to do for a living all along.”

They shared a laugh before Amanda had to leave, having work to do the next day. Waving at the car until it had disappeared far beyond what her eyes could perceive, Akko turned to the porch, taking careful steps to the front of the door.

Facing that familiar wooden barrier, she took a deep breath before allowing her knuckles to meet with the hard material.

No sounds, no response. Not even the slightest shuffling could be heard from within. Akko’s brows furrowed, teeth biting her lower lip nervously. This was their house... This was the Cavendish manor... right? Amanda was above pranks as evil as this, especially after what had just happened, so there was no way that-

“Mrrmmhpphhggh! Mmrhg!”

Akko struggled against the hand covering her mouth, desperately trying to reach for her wand, however her assailant had already figured her out, catching her hand and holding it against her back...

-before releasing her completely.

“A-Akko?! I! I’m sor- wait, no time to explain, come.”

And Akko was dragged into the house by Diana herself who rushed her up the stairs and into their bedroom.

“Akko, do you have all your essentials in that suitcase you hold at the moment?”

“Huh? Diana, what is... why are you home already? Don’t you have a council meeting running until late-”

“Grab anything you’d like to bring with you. Hurry!”

“But Diana!”

Akko felt a duffle bag hit the back of her head, and she whipped her head around only to find her prepared glare fading at the sight of a scowling Hannah.

“Do what she says, idiot. And make it quick.”

Diana seemed as caught off-guard by the presence of Hannah and Barbara as much as Akko was.

“You two! I... You can’t be here. Go back to your home, and from this point forward, don’t come back to the manor. I’m relieving you of your duties as my-”

If Akko and Diana’s eyes could widen any more, they’d surely be the size of Diana’s large serving plates. Hannah had clapped her hands against both sides of Diana’s face, shaking her lightly.

“Are you truly going to just leave us?!” She hissed.

“Diana... we know we were wrong to snoop around, but... couldn’t you confide in us for something this important?” Barbara said, teary-eyed. “I know we can’t ever replace what Anna was to you, and when she... when she left, we didn’t know how else to help you after losing your only family. But we still wanted to be by your side.” She smiled, placing her hands on Hannah’s shoulders to rub them, getting her partner to calm down.

“Did you really think...” Hannah sniffed, wiping her tears off her sleeve. “That we wouldn’t make you take us with you?” She finished with a grin. “You are never getting rid of us, honestly.”

Barbara nodded, reaching forward to ruffle Diana’s hair before she was met with a deep frown because of the gesture.

“Sorry, always wanted to try that.” She said, not sorry at all. “To sum all this up, Diana. You are taking us. There will be no further argument.”

Diana couldn’t help the relieved smile breaking across her face, her two longest companions also sporting their own. Tears slipped from her eyes as she pulled them into a long embrace.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She sobbed quietly, feeling arms rubbing her back from each side. “Thank you.”

“You better be thankful. We’ll never forgive you if we’re not the maids of honor at the wedding.” Hannah declared, half-joking.

“Wedding?” Diana parroted, pulling away as she wiped her remaining tears away. “Whose?”

Both girls simply rolled their eyes as Hannah walked over to Akko who felt seriously out of the loop. Barbara patted Diana’s shoulder, shaking her head, amused.

“Hannah? Barbara?”

She was promptly ignored from that point onward.

“Come on, idiot. Get packing. I’ll even graciously offer you my superb assistance.” Hannah said with a smirk, opening the closet she knew was designated for Akko’s belongings. “We don’t have all night.”

“I still... I still don’t understand what’s going on.” Akko stated, but began to do as she was instructed anyway. “What are we doing? Where are we going?”

“What part of ‘no time to explain’ don’t you understand?” Barbara quipped, before going over to assist the brunette pair. “I could’ve sworn we informed Amanda about this.”

“Even O’Neill knows?!” Diana continued to be ignored. “Okay, great. So who doesn’t know about this getaway?”

“Calm yourself, Diana. We only told our little circle of friends.” Barbara spoke over her shoulder as they finished closing Akko’s suitcases with a click. “Amanda and Constanze prepared as a cloaked little vehicle until we leave the country. You should be grateful.”

“Jasminka should be here to pick us up any minute now.” Hannah commented.

Diana remained slack-jawed, amazed at the follow-up her attendants had done.

“You didn’t think we’d just let you fly off on a broom in the middle of the night again, did you? Really Diana, we’ve been with you so long, your smarts should have rubbed off on us even the slightest bit.” She grinned. “The magical council really aren’t all that smart, huh? Look at their dullness contaminating our brilliant, Diana.” She shook her head in dismay.

“A shame indeed.” Barbara agreed as they began carrying their luggage out.

“No one’s still told me anything!” Akko announced, scratching the back of her head with her free hand as she followed Hannah and Barbara out with her own possessions.

She turned to Diana at the sound of a lock clicking in place, the former heiress running her hands over the grooves of the wood and the carvings.

Placing her things down momentarily, Akko walked over to wrap Diana in a hug from behind. “I hope we can come back one day. To the place where you began.” She whispered, placing loving kisses against Diana’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure we can.”

Akko’s heart cracked as Diana began to tremble in her arms, a hand going up to cover the sobs that were escaping her lips. All the memories of her family, her mother- they were probably much too painful for Diana to leave behind, but she had to. They had to.

Akko walked the mansion halls one last time with Diana as they locked each door one at a time, Diana embedding every room, every window, every banister into memory.

They finally came to the front door where Hannah and Barbara had awaited patiently, bags already loaded into their vehicle.

“No longer asking where we’re going, love?” Diana questioned Akko who had seemed to accept whatever was happening already.

“Do you trust me, love?” Akko responded with a question of her own, earning her Diana’s smile accompanied with raised brows.

“More than anyone and anything in the world.” Diana replied.

Akko gave her a chaste kiss as they all boarded the vehicle, watching the mansion disappear with an area cloaking spell that would hopefully keep it safe for as long as they were gone.

Squeezing Diana’s hand, Akko spoke. “Then know that I think the same. No matter where we go, how far away we are from here, and what we end up doing, just know... Just like those two dorks there,”

Akko laughed as the two snorted from the seats in front of them, knowing they were rolling their eyes at her.

God, she was thankful for them. For all her friends. For Diana.

Taking Diana’s hand in hers and entwining their fingers together, she placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand, laying all her worries to rest. They would figure things out. They all would- together.

“I trust you with all of my believing heart.”

A/N: WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN NOW, WHERE ARE OUR BABIES GOING? OOOHHH. SEE YOU ON DAY 3!

~Shintori Khazumi

#dianakko week 2021 #happy dianakko week 2021?#diakko #fanfic #hanbara #diana cavendish #atsuko kagari #hannah england #barbara parker #amanda o'neill

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

- Chapter 10 -

Nie Mingjue was starting to become accustomed to the routine of the cell.

Wen Ruohan would generally visit the Fire Palace twice weekly, sometimes more if he had had a very bad day and wanted to let off some steam. Nie Mingjue would get visited on at least one of those instances, whether for a short time and a bit of emotional devastation or for a longer and much more physically uncomfortable visit, and sometimes more often if Wen Ruohan was not doing well in war.

Wen Ruohan still enjoyed asking him questions, but Nie Mingjue didn’t think he had to answer them anymore. This was a subject that came up sometimes during some of those longer visits.

The rest of the time, he was left to recover and be bored. He was not given access to his saber – Baxia had been hidden away somewhere, he thought, he could feel that she was safe if unhappy – but his spiritual energy was not restrained, the way some other prisoners were.

He spent a great deal of time meditating. Sometimes, if his physical condition allowed for it, he would practice old techniques, trying to focus on a different muscle each time to try to avoid letting them atrophy. His empty hands bothered him, but he deemed it unlikely that anyone would give him equivalent to a saber something to wield, not even if he asked.

Food was twice a day, usually just a bowl of rice and vegetables that the kitchen would otherwise have thrown away, and it was brought by the same prison guard each time.

Nie Mingjue liked the prison guard.

Possibly it was because he was the only person Nie Mingjue saw on a regular basis, other than Wen Ruohan – Nie Mingjue’s cell was a little ways away from the other prisoners, lest they infect him with something and he die too quickly, although he was still within earshot of all the screams – or possibly it was the prison guard’s pleasant demeanor, friendly and calm like a lake of still water.

They were playing a long-running game of sorts.

Nie Mingjue had guessed that Meng Yao – that was the prison guard’s name – was an outsider, recently joined, and that he had previously spent time in both the Lan and Jin sects. This perspicacity had surprised Meng Yao, drawing his interest, and he had asked, very politely, for Nie Mingjue’s name.

Nie Mingjue had, just as politely, refused to give it.

Meng Yao, surprised yet again, had asked for his reasons.

Nie Mingjue had explained that he wasn’t sure if Wen Ruohan would react badly to other people knowing about him, and it would be a shame for Meng Yao to be murdered while he had yet to achieve whatever it was that he was seeking so strenuously to accomplish.

For some reason, Meng Yao saw this as a challenge.

“Gongzi, I have your dinner,” Meng Yao said. “Would you like me to ask the cook to give you some meat, next time? Just let me know. I would be more than happy to tell her to send more food to…?”

“Certainly,” Nie Mingjue said. “You can tell her that it’s on behalf of the last cell on the right.”

Meng Yao wrinkled his nose at him, and Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes back.

Their normal initial exchange of wits over, Meng Yao gave him the food and supervised him as he ate – a babysitter upon whose head the consequences would fall if Nie Mingjue misbehaved was the condition of giving him chopsticks. Wen Ruohan had a great deal of experience in keeping prisoners alive, and he knew Nie Mingjue’s character quite well.

“I heard that you were giving Sect Leader Wen advice on the war,” Meng Yao said casually as Nie Mingjue tried to guess what pickled vegetable he was eating, since neither taste nor appearance was definitive. “Gongzi must be very well-respected.”

“Did you hear about the part where I told him the best counterstrike would be to shove his troops up his own ass?”

“…and very brave.”

Nie Mingjue chuckled. “And you must be very competent to have made your way up to prominence in two separate sects, especially at such a young age.”

Meng Yao did not want to like him, Nie Mingjue could tell. He did anyway.

It wouldn’t help him if something more important to Meng Yao was at stake, of course – Nie Mingjue had lived too long with Qishan Wen cruelty, selfishness, and ruthlessness to miss seeing it reflected in others – but it was still nice to be liked.

“…how do you know?”

“Was that a direct question?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Be still my heart.”

“This humble servant has observed that gongzi does not answer anything else.”

“Humble,” Nie Mingjue drawled. “Yes, that’s the first thing I think of when I think of you.”

Meng Yao’s eyes were narrowing, though, so he stopped teasing.

“It’s your hair.”

“My – hair?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “The way you set it. It’s clear that Xichen must have taught you how to arrange the braids personally, which means that you must have gotten fairly high up in the Lan sect – but Sect Leader Wen referred to you as being poached from the Jin sect.”

Meng Yao reached up touch his hair. “…I never made it that high in the Jin sect,” he finally said. “Not even lieutenant.”

“In the middle of a war, with how competent you are? Does Sect Leader Jin have something against you?” A small furrowing of Meng Yao’s brow. “Did you complain that he raped your sister or something?”

A long, slow blink. “Is that a problem he has?”

“Not liking people who try to make him responsible for his actions?” Nie Mingjue snorted. “Yes.”

Meng Yao looked contemplative.

“What are you thinking?” Nie Mingjue asked, finally giving up on the pickled vegetable and handing back the bowl.

“Only that you know a great deal of gossip –”

“Involuntarily, I assure you.”

“– and that you feel comfortable calling Lan-da-gongzi by name, and are familiar enough to know how he personally styles his hair.” Meng Yao smiled. “I’ll figure out who you are yet, gongzi.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “They’ve probably already forgotten me.”

“This is your fault,” Wen Ruohan murmured in his ear, and Nie Mingjue was too weak to refuse to listen. “You did this – to yourself, to them. Why couldn’t you have just been obedient?”

He didn’t know anymore.

“I’m Sect Leader Jin’s son,” Meng Yao said.

“Your mother must be a genius,” Nie Mingjue replied.

There was a moment of silence – probably Meng Yao staring at him.

It was probably not the response he had been expecting.

“I’ve met Sect Leader Jin,” Nie Mingjue said in explanation. He was lying face-down on the floor of the cell while Meng Yao tended to his wounds; the conversation, he knew, was only to distract him from the sting of the stitches. “He’s cunning, not smart, horribly self-absorbed, and ‘competent’ isn’t the word I’d use for him; he makes do mostly by paying enough to hire good help. Given the contrast with you, it follows that you must have gotten all the good traits from the other side…I hope he didn’t rape her. Sorry about making that joke, earlier. I didn’t realize.”

“You said sister, not mother.”

“Right,” Nie Mingjue said. “I forgot.”

“Anyway, he didn’t have to rape her. He bought her,” Meng Yao said. He was tightening the bandages now and his hands were perfectly steady. Too steady, the way Wen Qing’s were when she was having to control himself. “She was a whore.”

Nie Mingjue got the feeling that Meng Yao was expecting some sort of reaction. He wasn’t sure what, though.

“Okay,” he said. Out of lack of anything better to say, he added, “Was she nice?”

“What type of question is that?” Meng Yao demanded.

He’d picked the wrong reaction again, Nie Mingjue presumed.

“I don’t know,” he said. His eyes were closed and his forehead was pressed against the cool stone. “I don’t really remember my mother. All I know is that she was a rogue cultivator, and tall –”

“I would never have guessed the latter, gongzi.”

“Yeah, yeah. Like I’ve never heard that one before. My father raised me on his own – we don’t believe in using nursemaids to do it.” He exhaled. “I’m forgetting him, too.”

“He died?”

“Sect Leader Wen killed him.” He heard Meng Yao exhale. “I know. I’m not very filial, am I?”

“I don’t think that’s a consideration,” Meng Yao murmured. “Under the circumstances.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t want to talk about it. “So, your mother,” he said. “Was she nice?”

“…does it matter?”

“Why wouldn’t it matter? She’s your mother, isn’t she?”

Meng Yao chuckled. It was not a nice sound. “Most people don’t really care to listen past the part where they find out she’s a whore.”

“I’ve never actually met a whore,” Nie Mingjue confessed. He was starting to drift off again – it was hard to stay awake. “The closest I ever got to even talking about one was when we had to put the fear of brothels into A-Chao. Sect Leader Wen was trying to ruin him.”

“A-Chao?”

“Mm. Like – a little brother, almost. I’ve got a bunch.”

Meng Yao snickered. “Yes, gongzi does seem the type.”

Nie Mingjue smiled into the floor. He knew that tone – it was just the same as A-Chao’s, in fact. “You’re welcome to join in, if you like.”

Meng Yao’s hands stopped moving abruptly.

“Assuming I’m not dead, of course.”

After a moment, Meng Yao’s hands started moving again. They were gentler.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “After a promise like that, I’ll be sure not to let him kill you.”

“Need to get your money’s worth out of me?”

“Of course.” A pause. “Naturally, it would be easier if gongzi would tell me his name…”

Nie Mingjue huffed – like Meng Yao was going to get him that easily.

“No need for such formality, A-Yao,” he said. “Just call me da-ge.”

“You must have some hobbies.”

“Must I?”

“Everyone has hobbies.”

“I collect younger siblings. Does that count?”

“It does not.”

“It’s your fault,” Wen Ruohan crooned as Nie Mingjue’s shrieks split the air. “Your fault. You turned them against me. It’s because of you that I’m going to need to kill them…”

“I don’t think I would have liked you, in the normal course of things,” Meng Yao said conversationally. “I usually find righteous people boring. Most of the time, they’re arrogant hypocrites, as rigid like the stiff pole that must have gotten shoved up their asses at some point. No one looks down on you like the righteous, and usually for stupid reasons, too. For something as petty and as simple as just not being them. Not having their advantages from the moment you were born.”

He paused. Cleared his throat.

“Lan Xichen was the first one I met who wasn’t like that. He really – he’s nice, I think you would put it. Kind. Everything they say about what gentlemen ought to be, he is.”

A brief silence.

“Naïve, though. Almost painfully so. I twisted him around my little finger without even trying…even when I was trying not to.”

Nie Mingjue believed him. Manipulation seemed to come as second nature to Meng Yao, even when he was being sincere. Sometimes, even especially when he was being sincere.

It was a bit like Wen Xu, actually. It was hard to throw off the way you’d been raised.

“At first I thought the problem was with me, that I didn’t appreciate him enough, that I didn’t understand how to have a friendship with a person like that. A good one. Sometimes I thought, well, no, maybe the problem’s with him – he pities me too much to see what I’m really like, and that means he’s deceiving himself, it’s got nothing to do with me. In the end…I don’t know. I don’t think I ever resolved it.”

He sighed. It was a long, low sound, almost whistling in the dead air of the Fire Palace.

“You’re not like Lan Xichen at all. You really are unbending, rigid, inexorable…I ought to despise you. You ought to despise me. I torture people most of the day, you know. I even enjoy it.”

For all his poise, Meng Yao was younger even than Lan Xichen. He shouldn’t be anyone’s prison guard. Shouldn’t be torturing anyone. How could you blame children for doing something that would win them praise?

“It’s this place that makes me like you, I think. It’s just – it’s filthy, here. Disgusting. The more I’m in this prison the worse it gets. The more bad things I do, the more bad things I think. I barely dare recall my better memories, my mother, Lan Xichen. I’m too afraid that the filth and grime of this place will stain their purity even in my thoughts.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t understand, not really - maybe he’d been here so long that the stain had sunk in already, blackening everything it touched. But he tried as much as he could to sympathize.

“And then there’s you. You, all shining steel and stiff unbending morality, the sort of person I hate the most. But when I’m here knee-deep in the muck, trapped in the dark without any hope of surfacing, I look at you and I feel – it’s almost like I can see light again, reflected in you. As if I’m breathing clean air. For the first time in my life, I think I understand why people have ethics. That they’re not some stupid thing made up by someone to fool someone else into voluntarily crippling the hand they’ve been dealt to play.”

That was definitely not what ethics were.

“I don’t know if we’d get along outside this place. Where I’m still me, with all my flaws that make me all the worse, and you’re still you, with all your imperfections that only make you better, but without this place to make us get along. I really don’t know. For once in my life, I don’t have a goal, a target, a scheme. As far as I know, you’re nobody I can use, and keeping you close to me will only tie an anchor to my legs, weigh me down. But even with all that, even if nothing I do works out and it all blows up in my face…I’d still like to find out. Find out if we would get along, if you really would treat me like your little brother even though you know what I’m really like under the smile. Find out if someone like me really can get along with someone like you.”

Nie Mingjue felt Meng Yao squeeze his hand, and wished he could respond in kind.

“So you have to wake up, da-ge. You hear me? You have to wake up.”

“It’s done. They’re gone. And it’s all your fault.”

He lies, Nie Mingjue told himself. He lies, he lies, he lies –

#mdzs #nie mingjue #wen ruohan #jin guangyao #meng yao #my fic #my fics #fire and light

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Note

Hey Panda! Congratulations on hitting the new milestone! Dunno if it’s still time to ask for a prompt, but if it is, I would love to see you write Simarkus first argument with a fluffy ending, please! Thanks and have a nice day! ^^

//Another first fight. This will be fun!! // @sheyshocked I didn’t mean to publish this blank! //Best read while listening to Battle Cries by the Amazing Devil

It was a long time coming he supposed looking back, that he and Simon would fight. They had fallen together in the midst of a revolution that neither one believed they would survive, and well, when you don’t think you’re going to survive, communicating with your partner isn’t the highest of your priorities. Except they had survived, and Markus’s ability to communicate hadn’t gotten any better. This started out small, as they always did. Signs and signals that were easy to miss if you didn’t know to look for them. Simon had always been surrounded by humans and learned to mimic them, so a lot of his displeasure came across in his body language, not his words, and Markus, for all the good he had done their movement, was not the greatest at reading the room. Carl voiced his displeasure, North did the same, Josh would make an effort to solve it on his own; and Simon, for whatever reason kept it to himself. The first of it started in the odd calm after the revolution, They were in free fall, and Markus scrambled to make a list of things that they wanted met in their personhood. Then came all of the legal meetings and the press, he took Josh with him, he was better at this than the rest of them. That, and he loved red tape situations for whatever reason. He had unintentionally pulled away from Simon, and return Simon had done the same.

The thing was Markus had known none of this at the time. He hadn't known that there was something that needed fixed. Simon was just quiet and Markus had chalked it up to stress. After all of something was wrong he would have said something right? And he did, close to a year on after the revolution, things had slowed down some, but Markus hadn’t, and if he had to guess Simon was getting tired of coming in last on his list of priorities. Which looking back, had been unfair to him. Markus knew that now. “Markus?” Simon asked one evening, “If you have time could we talk?” He was polite, as he always tended to be. Now he knew it had been hesitation. “Of course. I always have time for you.” Markus said setting aside the stack of papers and turning to face Simon. He didn’t miss the ice that passed through those blue eyes. “I was thinking about taking a little time on my own.” Simon said without looking at Markus, “Away from Jericho, I feel out of place here.” Markus had to stop for a moment to process this. After everything they had accomplished, Simon just wanted to leave? “Do you mind my asking why?” “You don’t need me here, didn’t really need me during things either if I’m honest.” He met Markus’s eyes for that one, and if the words hadn’t hurt enough on their own, the distance in his eyes would have done the job, “Everything is just you North and Josh. Now that we aren’t about to die at every turn you don’t need me anymore, so I thought -” There was static at the edge of his voice. Ever since being brought back his vocal processor tried to give out if he got too emotional, “I thought I could find a place where I was needed.”

“You are needed here, there are things we need you for.” Markus replied, “Morale, you help when there are humans or injure-” “Outside of the movement Markus. For once, can you maybe think about something else? Someone else?” Simon pleaded, “You never talk to me anymore if it isn’t about this. During the revolution you always said that after it ended, if we survived, we would get away from all of this. That we would find a place of our own. We survived Markus, I don’t know if you noticed that, and the only thing you’ve gotten away from is me.” “That isn’t true. I know I - We’ve been busy, but I haven’t forgotten you Si, just a little longer, that’s all I’m asking.” Markus pleaded, but he knew the answer even before Simon spoke. “When Markus?” He said flatly, “When you’ve solved the problems of each android ever made? When you’re done being seen as a hero? Or perhaps when all of this red tape gets cleared up? A year Markus, it has been a year and you haven’t talked to me about anything other than this damned movement!” There was a garble of static that Markus figured was supposed to be words, but Simon was too lost to say them, “A year since you told me you loved me.” Those last words hit him like a physical blow and Markus wanted to argue, but the thing was he couldn’t remember, “Simon, I’ve be-” “Been busy, I know.” Came the faintly static reply, “But that is exactly my point. Maybe we should put whatever this was meant to be on hold, until you can figure this out, because I can’t keep throwing myself at a wall Markus; not again; not even for you. I did this once already and its how I wound up in that boat to begin with, and it is certainly not how I wish to spend the rest of my life.”

Before Markus could reply he was gone. Markus stared at the doorway where he had been standing. He could remember those moments clearly. The nights and other moments when it was relatively safe and they could breathe, those times when they dared to dream about the world after the revolution. Promises that he ad every intention to keep, promises that had had gotten buried beneath paperwork and an image put on him by the rest of the world. He had, in small but certain steps forgotten about Simon. It was too late to admit that because the security system had already announced his absence, and even then, he had asked for space. Markus could give him that. They both had things to think about. Simon what he wanted out of life, and Markus about where exactly he had lost his. He hadn’t expected being alive to be so much work. North was good at handling politicians, and Josh’s dream job was apparently was to be nested in piles of paperwork. If Markus would only let him he would be doing this in his place, but apparently he was so used to being The Revolutionary now that he hadn’t been able to set it aside. For all it had gotten him, he had just lost the one thing he had been fighting for. Their right to life, to exist, to be able to feel, all so he could love without being killed, except he had pushed away the one person he had fought the world for. Losing Simon the first time had been hard, but this was worse. He knew that outside the house Simon was still well, but this time he just didn’t want to be neat him. Alive and well, but no where near him. He sighed quietly and looked back at the daunting pile of paperwork. Was this really what he wanted? Politics until his thirium pump rolled over and gave out? Is this what he wanted to make of the sacrifices made for him? He knew the answer to all of that, it was a resounding no. What he wanted was the life he had dared to dream of when hunched in an empty box car with Simon.

He lasted until midnight, not that he had gotten anymore work done of course. No, he had simply been staring at the door trying to find where things had gone so wrong. Where along the way he had exchanged his happiness for in image. Where in all of this he had lost Simon. It was so gradual and slow going that he couldn’t find the exact moment he had lost Simon, it still felt too much like he had been there one moment and gone the next; but he knew when he started pulling away. It was around the six month mark, right when Markus’s political career took off. When the paperwork had buried him and Simon along with it. Made a wall that was somehow both feebly thin and impossible to get through. Lost in translation as they said. He made his way to the shipyard to think. It was the place he went to ground himself. He hadn’t expected to see Simon there. Standing at the dock’s edge looking out over the wreckage in the slow rain that always seemed prevalent this time of year. But there he was, looking out over the water like it somehow held the answers, and Markus could understand why. In an ironic sense, things had seemed easier then, when they hadn’t thought they were going to make it out. Carl had said things about that on many occasions, when he got fed up with his own condition. They varied from profound to concerning depending on how sober he was; but Markus’s favorite had always been that life was the most beautiful when you were under the impression that it would end before you got to live it. Markus supposed that was true. His moment of reprieve was broken by Simon himself. “If you have something to say please say it, your just standing there is creepy.” He didn’t look away from the water as he spoke, and Markus couldn’t blame him.

“I want to apologize if you’ll let me.” He replied, “I didn’t notice that I had lost you along the way Simon. I always told myself that after the next thing I would be done, each new thing that came up was meant to be the last. I didn't realize what I was doing to you and I’m sorry. I know it’s probably to little too late, and I can’t promise that this but of legislation will be the last, but I promise to let Josh handle more of it from here on out. I don’t want to lose you again.” Simon did look at him eventually, no doubt searching to see if these promises would be empty too, “That will have to be enough then won’t it. Just talk to me this time Markus, tell me what you are thinking. I can’t read your mind despite my best efforts.” He took a few steps to close to the distance, “Just don’t forget me this time.” Markus rested his forehead against Simon’s “Never again.” He promised.

(Prompt from this list)

#Canonverse 'short'#Simarkus #dbh simon #dbh markus #dbh fic #dbh #160 follower ask event!#ask panda #panda has all the answers!

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anntoldst0ries · 3 years

Text

Diagnosis

I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you who read my previous fic and left such kind comments. You can’t imagine how much I appreciate this!

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Vicky Valentine)

Word Count: 2,911

Summary: Dr Ramsey attempts to diagnose the most difficult case in his career...his own.

Warnings: None! A lot of introspection again and hints of angst :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ethan Ramsey considered himself a brave man.

He always had the courage to say whatever he wanted to say or what had to be said - be that a terminal diagnosis, savaging someone’s speech at a medical conference (only if the speaker was talking nonsense, that is), scolding an intern - you name it.

With years of experience under his belt, Dr Ramsey excelled at the “art” of saying the most horrible, unpleasant and inconvenient things. It was a process he took to pieces and mastered every tiniest part.

He knew exactly what they were whispering behind his back in the hospital corridors. Dr Ramsey is a bully. A ruthless cynic. No one survived more than 3 minutes of his tirades without bursting into tears. Or, as some of the interns so lovingly put it, he was “the only survivor of a heart transplant”. The last remark had been conveyed to him by Baz, who found it hilarious…and so did Naveen. It took one deadly look to silence Baz forever, however Naveen used every occasion to remind his protégé of hospital’s favourite joke:

‘How’s your heart, Ethan?’

‘Good, why are you as—‘ Ethan didn’t have a chance to finish answering the question, interrupted by Dr Banerji who was in convulsions.

‘God, Naveen, for such a bright mind and one of the best doctors in the world, I still find it hard to believe that you have a sense of humour of a 5 year old’

‘There is nothing wrong with some joy, Ethan. You should try it sometimes, it may do you good.’

Similar conversations took place on a regular basis, but they always ended with Ethan rolling his eyes and Naveen sighing. Younger doctor would never, ever tell his mentor off, he respected him too much. So Ethan let Dr Banerji have some fun at his expense from time to time.

But, truth be told, he kept his emotions at a leash and he was good at it, because there wasn’t a thing in Ethan’s life that he wasn’t good at. Regardless of what it was - saving people’s lives or emotional self-deprivation.

That’s why reminiscing past 2 years was so hard for accomplished diagnostician. He couldn’t help but think that he’s lived more during this time than he’s lived during his whole life. His existence wasn’t a boring one, he loved his job and the cases that the team had to crack were mostly complex and thus exciting. There was also a sense of fulfilment and servitude to a greater cause.

As a kid, Ethan wanted to be a detective. It all started with Alan buying his son one of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s books. There was no hidden intention in this choice - Alan simply ran out of book ideas, Ethan was literally gobbling up the books at his disposal and was thirsty for more. Therefore, Mr Ramsey picked picked one of the thickest positions available in the book shop, with hopes it will keep Ethan occupied for at least a couple of weeks. Oh, how wrong he was - 5 days later his son was already begging for more.

Sherlock Holmes and Hercules Poirot quickly took the top spot on the list of Ethan’s childhood heroes. He was obsessed with their investigative methods, their sharp minds that captured even the tiniest of details and how missing those nuances would make solving a mystery a lot harder, if not impossible.

That’s why he became obsessed with details. He analysed, compared, observed and noted down everything around him with deliberation. After a while, Ethan realised that these skills come handy in various areas of life. He could read people and to a degree foresee what their next move was going to be. If he wanted to, he could probably try and influence their decisions too. If it wasn’t for Alan’s upbringing, this particular skill might have taken his life onto a dark track, but fortunately he utilised it for greater good.

Having this sort of insight made him very self-conscious and he never turned away from reliving his own decisions and behaviours, which helped him become a better doctor, every single day. But he never wallowed in the mud of emotions, instead always operating on facts.

But for the past couple of months, this process became a pure torture.

You know what they say, the devil is in the detail. And the devil it was indeed.

The devil that would be the death of Ethan was 5’4, had raven hair, plumped lips, mesmerising eyes and a captivating laugh.

Suddenly, he heard the devil’s voice in his head.

‘Are you pinching the bridge of your nose right now?’

He was.

‘God dammit!’ - shouted Ethan, so loud that he startled poor Jenner, who resigned from occupying the sofa and ran straight to his bed. Even the retriever, in his doggy wisdom, knew that when his master was upset, it was best to stay out of his sight and wait for the storm to pass.

Whenever Dr Ramsey had a serious dilemma, he would subtly join his thumb and index finger to pinch the gentle skin between eyes. She knew of this somewhat subconscious habit and teased him about it countless times.

With most people, the whole observing and reading process was a one-sided game. For majority of mortals, Ethan was a closed book and they had no idea how to open, let alone read it. But not Rookie. She saw right through him. Ethan considered himself a riveting mystery thriller before, if we’re talking comparisons, but right now he was probably a cheap Harlequin. How did he sink so low in practically no time?

The answer came before he was even able to finish the question.

He was hopelessly, utterly and irreversibly in love with Dr Vicky Valentine.

“Victoria….” he whispered. He knew her full name, he’s read her bloody application and her employee file many, many times. More than he’d ever care to admit. Neither him nor anyone else addressed her by her full name. She always introduced herself as Vicky and even mentioned to him, June & Baz one time that she considered herself too young to be a bearer of such gracious name. But when the name fell out of his lips, it made perfect sense. Victoria. Victory. After a long, tough and heartbreaking battle, she’s won all of him. And man, wasn’t she fighting fiercely.

She was so much like him, and yet so different. Patients loved her, and for a good reason - not only was she amazing at her job, but also so genuinely caring about every patient she met. Somehow, she was able to see past people weary of their conditions, instead she always noticed the human beings with their unique stories. Thanks to her, patients never felt like sickness became their identity, but merely a stage in their life that shall soon pass.

Hospital staff adored her as well, she had time and a huge smile for everyone; her bright aura lit up every room she walked into and was a pleasure to be around.

Those who knew Ethan a bit better or worked with him were aware of the insanely high standards he was holding himself to. And it would have been fine if they only applied to him, but he held everyone else to the same standard too. It was his buffer. Most gave up without even trying, it was humanly impossible to live up to such expectations. And that was the goal. Dr Ramsey wanted no distractions and if anyone wanted so much as approach him, they had a giant wall to jump over first.

But the young intern wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Dozens of people before her stood in front of the wall and tried to figure out how to get in. And she… she just found a tiny gap and squeezed right through. Before Ethan realised what’s going on, it was already too late. And she wasn’t even fully aware of what she’s done.

Like air, she’s entered his life imperceptibly, filling every space until there was nothing else. She was in every reflection he saw, every smile, every freaking thing a reminder of her, one way or another.

He was completely under her spell, enchanted, drunk in the thought of her.

The most ironic part was that if he went by his unreasonable standards, she’d never stand a chance.

She was messy, she was a klutz, she laughed too loud and rounded her eyes like a child when something seriously excited her.

And yet, something about her made him break all of his rules, lower his guard and re-think everything he’s ever thought he knew and believed in.

Obviously, he wouldn’t be himself if the occupational quirk did not kick in at some point. Whatever the cause, Dr Ramsey had to get to the bottom of it, no matter how many tests did he have to run on his mind and heart. He needed the diagnosis so he could start the treatment. But his sharp diagnostic skills which made him a famous man, suddenly decided to go on unplanned vacation and it looks like they were not coming back anytime soon.

Ambivalence became Ethan’s newest companion. Some days, he thought he was going to blow his brains out, the others he was strangely content and did not want to analyse anything, things were good just as they were.

For the first time in his life, he felt truly lost. He felt like Jon Snow, he knew nothing. It wasn’t a result of one event, rather a chain reaction. Starting with Naveen getting sick, the inability to figure out what was wrong with his mentor made Ethan seriously doubt his capabilities as a doctor. Then, Louise Ramsey made a surprise reappearance after having walked out on him and his dad 25 years earlier. When he was little, his dad use to say that wherever Louise goes, trouble follows and it wasn’t any different this time. She brought company - insecurity, sorrow, resentment - to name just a few. Ethan felt like someone ripped a band aid from his heart and painfully reminded him that all the wounds are still alive and never really healed.

And finally, Edenbrook. The place that others saw as walls, glass, beds, people in white coats, sickness, illness, death. To him, it was much, much more. The hospital had almost a transcendental dimension. It was here that Ethan’s transition had been completed. He shed his old skin and became Dr Ramsey, the person he was always meant to be.

That’s why Edenbrook closing hit him so hard - a part of him was about to die and be buried beneath years of sweat, tears and effort. It was probably the hardest thing to come to terms with in the 37 years that he’s been walking on the surface of the Earth.

And throughout all these events, she was with him.

She never gave up on Naveen and Ethan knew that there was more to it than just saving Edenbrook’s most prominent doctor. He believed, he wanted to believe that she did this for him too.

The memory brought shame that drained off him like unpleasant wave of cold water. Ethan never really forgave himself for just laying in his bed like a drunk bag of potatoes, whilst she was busting her gut to solve the case, even though she had ethics hearing to prepare for. A hearing that could make or break her whole career, before she even had a chance to start.

Dr Ramsey would like to think they were alike. But as a matter of fact, she was a much better person than him.

Then, with his mother in the picture, she never told him what to do. Even though he asked, many times. He hoped someone can actually make the decision for him, because it hurt so much to even think about this, let alone decide what to do next. But she never did. She was just there and by simply being, she empowered him to make his own, informed decision.

She was there, like no one else was in his entire life. Not to take anything from Naveen, who had tremendous effect on Ethan’s life - but this was completely different.

She penetrated his soul.

She made him feel.

Love.

It was the first time he used this word in a long, long time.

And maybe, quite possibly, for the first time in his life he used it with intention.

He thought he felt it once before.

When he was a student at Johns Hopkins, Ethan met Camille. She was a year older than him, with angelic voice and looks, the cascade of blond locks surrounding her gentle facial features like a halo.

What impressed him was that she kept hitting up on him, not the other way round. He’s had his mind set on graduating as a top student in his class and then getting the best residency there was - in Edenbrook hospital in Boston. It was either him or someone else. University romances were of no interest to him, or so he thought. After all, he’s just gone past his teenage years and was relatively new to the world of intimate human desires. As much as he tried to push them away, he had needs and his hormones were still a giant part of his decision-making process, doesn’t matter how hard he tried denying it.

Also, there was something motherly about her and she reminded him of the woman who left him when he was just a boy. It was completely fucked-up, he hated his mother and yet a memory of her and how he’d once do anything for her was tattooed in the insides of his brain.

Ethan and Camille shared a passion for medicine, music and opera. A few times, he was close to bringing her down to Providence, to introduce her to Alan, his father. But there was this weird voice in his head stopping him.

Maybe that’s why he wasn’t overly surprised when one day he walked on Camille. In his bed. Screaming and making other explicit sounds…except, he wasn’t the igniter. It was none other than his best friend at the time, Tobias. Ethan would never forget the jealous glance he shot him with when he first brought Camille to one of the student parties. And then things got worse. Ethan and Tobias always competed and for a long time it was a fuel that kept them both going. But when someone wins, someone has to lose. Neither of them was good at losing or accepting the failure.

Ethan was doing better than his best friend. Not significantly better, the difference between them had usually been slight, but it was there. Tobias couldn’t swallow this. Not only was Ethan doing better than him, he also had one of the most beautiful students at Hopkins by his side. Jealousy started to spread inside him like a wildfire and since his attempts to beat Ethan at school were futile, he decided to make use of his other skills. Tobias was a born flirter and charmer. He often used to say that no woman can resist his spell and that “where there’s a woman - there’s a way.”

Dr Ramsey never told anyone, but having found out that his girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend was sort of relief. Call it sixth sense, an intuition… subconsciously he sort of felt that she wasn’t a girl for him. As for Tobias, he was tired of the fight….of Tobias fighting with him, that is. Ethan wasn’t fighting, he was just a better student and was going to be a better doctor. He was tired of petty competition and how the toxin poisoned their relationship.

So they actually made him a favour and helped him killed 2 birds with 1 stone - he was saved from having an awkward break-up conversation that he’s never went through before and he now had every right to hate Tobias. He didn’t really, as such feelings were a waste of energy, but a week later Tobias moved out of their shared apartment and they never really spoke again.

After Camille, he was only in a brief relationship once. With Harper. He deeply admired and respected her, but when things started getting too serious (from her side), he distanced himself. And so, for a couple of years to follow, they were on the off and on again terms. They went through countless friends with benefits stages, but he genuinely enjoyed her company. They just never wanted the same things, which became more and more evident as she was getting older. And he respected her too much to mess her around.

Ethan’s career was everything to him and he accepted the fact that falling in love and having a family is just not in the cards for him.

Or so he thought.

Dr Valentine entered his life one September morning and hasn’t left ever since. And, hell, hasn’t he tried to erase her. To make her hate him. To draw a line between work and personal life. He could honestly say that he tried everything.

For the love of God, he ran to fucking Amazon! He tried to hide from all things Dr Valentine, like a fool who forgot one of the most basic rules of life: there is no running away from yourself.

Tag list (please let me know if you wish to be removed): @terrm9 @openheart12 @openheartthot @rookie-ramsey @alwaysmychoices @brooks-eden @drethanramslay @starrystarrytrouble @justanotherrookie @caseyvalentineramsey@incorrectopenheart @heauxplesslydevoted @perriewinklenerdie @mercury84choices @archxxronrookie @renasalek-blog @maurine07 @whippedforethanfreakingramsey @lemonmiddleton @tsrookie @choicesfan10 @dr-colossal-pita @queencarb @gryffindordaughterofathena @qrkowna @aarisa-frost @choicesficwriterscreations

#open heart #dr ethan ramsey #dr ethan jonah ramsey #dr ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #open heart choices #dr valentine #play choices #open heart fanfiction #open heart fic #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

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sepublic · 4 years

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Amity’s ‘role’ in Luz’s fantasy

So recently I had an epiphany thanks to @lost-gatesofhell, about Luz and her initial interest in Amity. I have to wonder if at first, Luz was partially interested in befriending Amity because it’d be like Azura befriending HER rival... In the sense that she’s trying to live out her fantasies, without considering that Amity is her own person and not a ‘prize’ to be won. I hate to compare Luz like this... but it could’ve been like how Warden Wrath was drawn to the ‘allure’, the IDEA of Eda as someone who was ‘hard to get’, a prize to be won... Of course in Luz’s case, she’s a lot less patronizing and objectifying of Amity, as seen when she respects the girl’s boundaries as soon as they’re set.

Still, there’s this idea that while Luz is working on it, she hasn’t totally overcome her penchant for applying fantasy to real life and projecting her little adventures over what’s actually happening, for the sake of living them out... Obviously she learned her lesson in Episode 2, but like anyone else she’s not perfect and still liable to making the same mistakes from time to time, even if they’re a lot less frequent. Particularly, Luz learned not to expect the Boiling Isles to specifically cater to her fantasies, and to recognize situations for what they actually were. If Luz wanted a ‘magical destiny’ or adventure or anything like that, she’d have to work for it to happen, as Eda suggested.

Of course, while Luz learned not to be entitled nor to expect life to just hand over her fantasies to her, there’s still this expectation and willingness to use Amity to fulfill that enemies to lovers friends trope, under the idea that at least Luz is ‘working’ for it. Luz knew then that things wouldn’t automatically be how she wanted them to be, and that she had to recognize this; But she’s still willing to make them fit her idealized fantasy regardless... Again tying back to what Eda said about having to ‘make your own destiny’, but there’s also the issue of boundaries and limits to be set, especially when actual people are involved.

Sometimes, you just can’t live out your fantasy, period… Nor can you expect reality to change into it, even if you DO put in the work to alter it accordingly. Even if it is possible, is it ethical and worth the effort to steamroll over the autonomy of others, and see them only as tropes and roles to fulfill in your story? Not as people with their own stories? Maybe it’s pointless to try to make up for this by occasionally ‘fulfilling your part’ in another person’s story, because nobody should have to deal with that sort of expectation at all, period! Even if it’s consensual on behalf of both parties, it’s still pretty sus... And it ties into the ideas of the Coven System, of Witches having to fulfill a certain role, be it as the Bard, or the Oracle, or the Illusionist... That you have to stick to a particular trope, that there’s no mixing parts or being creative with this!

Everybody has to be quickly and readily defined by a specific role they can neatly fit into, as ordained by Belos; There’s no room for growing beyond that, save for special people like those who fit into the Emperor’s Coven, the kind who are worthy of being ‘main characters’ in a sense, and thus allowed to be fleshed-out and ‘unique’! Everybody else, though- They’re a side-character, an NPC. It’s like those jokes of friend groups consisting of ‘the smart one’, the ‘funny one’, ‘the jock’, etc., but taken to a dark and far too literal extreme. There’s no room for someone to be the funny one AND a jock, that guy’s already a jock, don’t encroach on other people’s roles, you’ll get distracted from the specific function you have to fulfill!

(There isn’t anything wrong with doing this in writing of course, especially since one is handling fictional characters and not real people; But from an in-universe perspective, these characters ARE actual people to one another. After all, in real life one wouldn’t define someone as JUST a chef, they also have other aspects and interests to their life that aren’t solely related to food! It’s like the revelation that teachers have lives outside of school, or how that person you know on the internet probably has a job unrelated to whatever interest they’re talking about. People aren’t JUST the jobs they do, and it’s unreasonable to expect them to dedicate their entire existence to fulfilling that role. People should have breaks and be allowed to pursue different interests, maybe even leave their ‘job’ if it’s no longer for them. So YES Karen, this person’s job IS to help customers, but that doesn’t mean their entire worth and meaning as a person solely revolves around this, nor should this person be expected to help customers 24/7 when their shift has already ended anyway.)

But back to the subject... Luckily, Luz’s issue with molding reality into her fantasy is confronted and further resolved by Wing it like Witches. And even if Luz was projecting her stories onto Amity a bit in order to live out a ‘rivals to friends’ fantasy... It’s worth noting that Luz was also legit interested in Amity as a friend, too! Not to mention Luz is VERY concerned about earning Amity’s approval in Adventures in the Elements... Maybe part of Luz’s motive is not wanting to mess up with an ‘elusive’ friendship, or that’s what Luz tells herself... But more than likely, it’s indicative of a crush that Luz isn’t aware of. Sadly, this girl hasn’t had enough social interaction to differentiate between plantonic friendship desires and being romantically attracted to an actual peer VS a fictional character!

Which is yet another reason why I love Lost in Language, it’s that Luz was interested in the idea of befriending Amity, of a rival turned friend, rather than just Amity herself... And maybe Amity overheard this when Luz mentioned “First I befriend the siblings, then Amity!” and that contributed to her tomato face of anger- Having the painful barriers she’d erected as a trauma response and the loneliness that came from that being trivialized isn’t great. Amity didn’t appreciate being objectified like that, solely for the emotional barriers she’d set up for a reason. It’s one thing to want to be Amity’s friend the way Boscha and others did- But is Luz really interested in Amity, or just in the idea of her? Is this love conditional on Amity’s social status, which Amity is told is both inherent to her as a Blight, and yet something she has to constantly earn and maintain? Especially the idea of ‘winning’ Amity, that’d be particularly patronizing… But very quickly, Luz remembers that Amity is her own separate individual, who doesn’t exist to fulfill her fantasies.

Luz appreciates Amity as she really is (perhaps not coincidentally after getting insight into the girl’s true personality through her diary entries), which leads to Luz working to protect Amity’s boundaries by keeping her diary from Emira and Edric! There’s the idea of getting to know and appreciate Amity for who she really is, and Luz working to let the girl embrace that part of herself both internally and externally as well... Which again ties back into the idea of projecting the idea/image of fantasies onto someone/something, VS accepting what/who they actually are, and thus appreciating them even more as a result!

Amity, of course, realizes that Luz is genuine and actually wants to know about the person she really is... And she’s baffled. While she was no doubt offended by Luz possibly seeing her more as a trope to fulfill than an actual person, it probably wouldn’t have been anything new to Amity; The idea of others seeing her as a means to an end, given how her own parents and Lilith did the same! Disappointing, but not surprising...

But now it IS surprising, because Luz wants to know about Amity- And she’s not used to good things in life, alas? And how to respond? She’s well familiar with the process of rejecting people, but when it comes to accepting someone- What does she do then? And this plays into Amity’s insecurities and confusion about Luz and how she feels, not wanting to lose a friend, not wanting to hurt them, not wanting to ruin things if Luz wants her only as a friend... Not sure if Luz really means it or not because she’s still insecure, and OF COURSE the idea of a crush, and wondering what Luz could see in someone like her?!

Amity at least better understood Luz’s motives back when she assumed it was just to fulfill her Azura fantasies, because Amity was familiar with those and her own desire for them. But now that Luz has given up on that... Why does she continue to be so interested in Amity, of all people? And even if Luz was still living out her fantasies, what more could Amity accomplish anyway, now that she’s a friend to Luz; Why does Luz continue to express interest in Amity, and be willing to do so much for the girl? Luz already got her Rivals-to-Friends trope in Amity, but she continues to hang out with the girl of her own volition and unconditionally help her; And Amity is possibly freaking out on what Luz’s motives are, even though she at least knows the girl isn’t a bully and means well!

Mostly, I think Amity KNOWS that Luz is interested in being a genuine friend... But she’s still overwhelmed by the idea of someone being romantically interested in her, or at least more interested in Amity as a friend compared to others; Because the girl underestimates her own worth too much, she doesn’t see herself as worth getting to know if she doesn’t specifically accomplish a purpose! Odalia and Alador conditioned Amity to evaluate others based on their usefulness, or else be useful to others... So Amity is wondering what about her is so specifically appealing to Luz, especially when Luz has disregarded all of Amity’s other traits that make her ‘worthwhile’, such as her intelligence, social status, knowledge on magic, etc. The only thing left about Amity, to appreciate... Are the things that define her as individual, not as a Blight or a Top Student! And it’s unimaginable, or at least surreal to the girl, for Luz to be interested in that...

Amity only knows friendship in terms of being ‘useful’ to someone else... Emira and Edric were genuinely interested in Amity as a person, but she’s probably dismissed this as a given since they’re family members, not to mention Ed and Em have admittedly done their part in making Amity doubt how much she means to them. So what does Amity do, when Luz expects nothing of her? No doubt Amity feels like she’s a ‘parasite’, that she’s leeching off of Luz’s good nature and not giving back enough... Maybe she’ll feel like she has compensate for their friendship and justify it, only for Luz to make it clear to Amity that just being with the girl, and seeing her be happy, is all she’ll ever need! And it’ll amaze Amity, and mean so much to her, to realize that she’s inherently worthwhile, and that she doesn’t need to ‘prove’ herself to others in order to be lovable...

TL;DR Luz was initially trying to live out a ‘rivals to friends’ story, but learned not to objectify Amity like this... And when confronted with a growing crush on the Blight girl, Luz possibly assumed she was just relapsing into old habits. But inevitably, Luz is becoming more and more aware of how much she just genuinely likes Amity as a person, no strings attached, that the girl is irreplaceable to her. And when Amity recognizes that there’s no big secret to why she means so much to Luz, other than just being herself, that Luz’s love isn’t dependent on superficial traits that could easily be replicated by someone else, that Amity is irreplaceable to Luz... It’ll do wonders for her crippled self-esteem, as she learns that she doesn’t need to impress people in order to be loved. Amity, as she already is, without having to make any efforts to improve herself, is already worth loving both in the platonic and romantic sense!

As for Luz, well- She didn’t get the fantasy she expected... But she still got to live out a different one. Amity really IS this girl’s fantasy, and this time, I mean it in the best way possible!

#the owl house #owl house #lumity #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house amity #amity blight #speculation

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tarysande · 5 years

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Some things I’m learning on this personal ADHD-diagnosis journey:

Some doctors will dismiss you when you admit that, yes, you got straight As in school and were never a classroom disturbance.

But that doesn’t erase the truth:

I got straight As because I liked school, liked learning, and wasn’t bored.

When I was bored in the classroom, I wrote novels instead of paying attention; that was quiet. I daydreamed all the time; so quiet. After being caught at this once or twice, my ADHD-sensitivity to criticism (rejection sensitivity dysphoria) clicked in and I realized if I answered a question at the beginning of class, the teacher would ignore me for the rest and never put me on the spot. I slipped headphones under my long hair and listened to CDs. Do you know how many times I listened to Tori Amos’s “Winter” on repeat in math class? How many times I invented “Student Council business” to get out of a class that was boring me to rage or tears? Do they care that, even though you got straight As, you missed more than a month of school days in your senior year because you just couldn’t deal with it anymore?

(Absences, I learned, mean nothing if you have straight As. Lies about how you spend your time mean nothing. Listening to the same song over and over and over to drown out the boredom means nothing.)

They don’t ask if all those papers and assignments that got those good grades were completed in a panic the night before after breaking down crying because how could I be so stupid, I knew this was going to happen, why can’t I stop procrastinating, why can’t I just have more willpower, why I am I such a failure? They don’t ask if you can’t finish work without a deadline, and that if the deadline is too vague or far away it means nothing except that you have longer to procrastinate until you panic. They don’t ask how many times you’ve started something and been unable to finish even though you want to, you really really want to. But you can’t. You know it doesn’t make sense. Knowing changes nothing.

Did you get bad grades? Were you a classroom disturbance? What were your report cards like?

They don’t ask if you’re living up to your potential. They don’t ask if knowing you’re not living up to your potential is the slow poison that taints every other aspect of your life.

Some doctors will say, “ADHD involves impulsivity. Were you promiscuous, did you have problems with drugs or alcohol?” And you will say, “No.” They will dismiss you.

They will not ask if you have a history of overspending, of impulse buying even when your brain says, “Sweetheart, you know you can’t afford that.” They won’t ask if you’re able to be patient when you want attention or feedback or praise. They won’t ask if you’ve pretended that some new piece of clothing was older, or bought second-hand. They won’t ask how much of those university loans you spent not on tuition, but on feeding the pleasure center of your brain that just wants more. More pretty dresses, more video games, more chocolate.

They will not ask how much time you spend on the internet, refreshing pages because you just can’t focus on anything else, and refreshing pages is easy, and might mean a little dopamine hit. They will not ask about the intensity of your interests. When you say the word “hyperfixation” they look uncomfortable, like you know a word you’re not supposed to know. Like they might have to take you seriously.

They’ll still dismiss you, though. You got good grades, you’re put together, you’re not fidgeting.

Some doctors will interrupt you when you’re trying to explain something, and yes, your explanation involves 23 diversions because you’re trying to really explain it. Really explain it so they understand. They will hold up a hand. They will snap, “Stop talking,” and your rejection-sensitive dysphoria will cripple you. You will want to vomit. You will start to cry and pretend you’re not crying. They will say, “I think you have anxiety, take these drugs. They will say, you are depressed, take these ones.” They will not listen when you say, “But the anxiety and depression have a common root; why won’t you listen to me?” They will not listen when you say, “Why are you treating the symptoms but not the underlying cause?”

Some doctors will treat you like you’re a drug-seeker, especially if you come in with too much knowledge (because you like learning, because you’ve always liked learning, because maybe you can’t control much of anything but you can read, read, read and cling to that knowledge like a lifeline; you can always be clever. You can always be smart. Less rejection that way.). They may narrow their eyes like you want medication for a nefarious purpose when all you really want is to be able to turn the key in the ignition and start the car. The car is good; there’s nothing mechanically wrong. The tank is full. But without a key, you cannot turn the damn thing on. And because your brain is not always your ally in these things, it whispers, “You’re imagining this. You have the key. It’s in your pocket. Just take it out.” But you don’t have a pocket. You don’t have a key. Telling yourself you do, you just need to find it, just need to manufacture it out of thin air does not make it true.

I’ve learned that to get help, the right kind of help, you sometimes have to turn yourself inside out. You have to somehow accomplish the things your condition makes most difficult: you must accept rejection, you must persevere beyond what you think possible, you must stand up for yourself over and over and get used to disagreeing with people trying to dismiss you, you must not let yourself be silenced.

I have a doctor who is listening to me now. It’s slow-going. It’s frustrating. It’s hard. The last year--more--of trying to make myself understood has been exhausting. But then, hasn’t my whole life been exhausting? Of course it has. I got good grades, I wasn’t a classroom disturbance. No one knew I was suffering. I slipped through the cracks.

The car’s been sitting idle a long time. I’ve probably done some damage to the clutch. But maybe I have a key. Maybe the car will shudder to life when I turn it.

#tara talks adhd #adhd #tara talks personal stuff #tara talks health stuff

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theveryworstthing · 5 years

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More Spooky.

Mixing the spooky prompts of 'gay vampires' and 'all dressed up for a spooky soriee' again.

This is Salt. She's pretty good a putting people back together, is full of leeches, has a dark sense of humor, and is very short. She's also as gay as a hermaphroditic leech person who mostly uses she/her for convenience but has no strong feelings about gender can be.

She grew up around pit fighters and eventually became a medic when her own career didn't work out (her eyes were always wonky but then she had to grow a few back after That Fight and yeesh). When the pits got shut down one of the older medics decided to put an actual practice together and hit the road, taking Salt and a few other favorites with. Eventually they got pretty successful and opened a lot of non-human friendly hospitals. She's currently attending a 'children of the night' themed benefit sponsored by Cashmere's company as a representative since her boss couldn't make it.

Here's a bunch of lore about the kind of vampire she is because of course I wrote some:

Hirudo Vampires

What are they: A race of Mermaids. Mermaids that are essentially a sack full of leeches, but yeah. Mermaids.

How they’re made: They’re born like any other mermaid. Weird humanoid monotreme lays an egg and after a bit you get a Child. Infants look like regular baby mermaids with kind of sluggy tails and can be confused with nudibranch juveniles if they’re gifted with brighter colors. They’re initially fed milk and invertebrates like worms and slugs by their parents but quickly move on to blood once their cravings start and they begin releasing leeches.

Turning: They can’t turn people. They can turn leeches but they rarely do because usually more than enough leeches naturally sprout from their innards and outside leeches that aren’t from another hirudo are a quick fix that will eventually be rejected by their bodies and need to be replaced.

Feeding: Their favorite method is anchoring their tails to something in a body of water, releasing their leeches, and just floating there until they return. When the leeches come back they swim into the hirudo’s body and plug themselves back into the digestive tract where they empty themselves over time. When the last leech runs out it’s time to go hunting again.

When not feeding they fill the inner cavity of their body with water for the leeches. Chemicals in this inner cavity thicken the water into a loose slime and when feeding all that Leech Slime gets released so that they take on more of a flesh suit aesthetic. A view of this feeding form is rare however, as hirudo hide while feeding and only have to feed this way once every few months if most of their leeches are successful hunters. If they’re not so successful or they can’t send them out for whatever reason they supplement their diet with invertebrates, soft organ meats, and ingesting small quantities of iron whenever they can. Mostly by nibbling on rusted objects or sucking on found bits of metal like jawbreakers.

Besides blind hunting they’ll also enthusiastically feed on willing subjects. Hirudo are renowned healers and their bites can ease certain ailments just like regular leeches. They can can greatly increase their healing powers through training and even imbue their leeches with specific healing spells by lightly carving said spells into their flesh. If you come across an aquatic apothecary or river-side hospital outside of human territories, they’re likely to be owned or staffed by hirudo. When healing others, singular leeches are selected and expelled for each patient. Dedicated healers tend to be larger than regular hirudo since their constant food source helps them produce more leeches.

Powers: Calming aura (to be fair the leeches have this power, not the hirudo), two or three times the strength of an average human (that’s normal for any mermaid though, they’re pretty much all pure muscle), durability (very hard to kill if they can get water and a blood source), and accelerated healing. They can direct their leeches to specific targets and use them as kind of detachable limbs, even speaking through them if they need to. Mostly they just point them in a general direction and see what they can get. The leeches have their own simple brains and can figure it out.

Fun Facts:

Bites don’t hurt and rarely become infected unless you’re just rolling around in garbage all day. You don’t bleed more or less than you would after a regular leech bite and if the creature doesn’t see the leech they probably won’t know they’ve been fed on until after it’s gone.

They can hang out on land just fine due to being their own personal swimming pools but they still dry out after a day or so and need to return to the water. While on land they develop a thin layer of mucus on their skin that isn’t sticky or wet but you can feel it creepily shift under your hands if you grab them too roughly and it gives them a shimmery glow. This layer flakes off if they become dehydrated and some harvest it as well as any spare Leech Slime for use in beauty products and skin ointments.

They can ‘walk’ on land but it’s draining after a bit and they all use canes and/or wheelchairs to get around.

Just like regular leeches, hirudo are hermaphrodites. What we think of as feminine or masculine appearances are just the product of different family genetics interacting with environmental stimuli and are the same as tribe markings to them. Come from a southern river system where your egg was kept in warm water? Guess you’ll grow up to look more femme and you get cool orange stripes. This situation isn’t unheard of in mermaids but land creatures can be taken aback. It’s whatever. Biology does what it wants.

Many name their leeches and get real mad if one is killed. Partially because anyone would be mad if you murdered one of their organs, but also because they like those little buddies. Luckily, they’re pretty hard to kill if they’re in water and they can get back to the main body.

Most physical fighting is done with leeches. All hirudo have at least one leech that’s bigger, tougher, and honestly creepier than the others just for combat situations. They vary a little from person to person but a consistent trait is that they have just. Too many teeth. Too many teeth that are sometimes not in the right places and sometimes look too human. Just a lot of Wrong Teeth on a big fat blood slug. If this ‘attack leech’ dies or doesn’t return to the body in a certain period of time then they start growing a new one immediately and oh boy is the new one always worse that the last one. There are hirudo out there housing some real abominations.

Combat Leech is their secondary defense mechanism. The first is expelling slime at predators and slipping out of their grip by furiously stretching and wriggling.

The leeches aren’t like wild leeches. They don’t digest the blood they take or make more leeches. They’re also strangely warm, like little hot water bottles. It’s hard to even call them leeches since they’re really detachable organs that act like leeches but like. What else can they be called? Idk, but there’s strong evidence that wild leeches find them creepy and will avoid them.

They’re very amused at the human perception of boobs because to them bigger titty is like a sign that says “I have fat to spare because I eat very well and that means I could probably rip you to shreds”.

They can produce children with other humanoids in theory but it’s a toss of the coin for the egg’s viability and it’s suspected that this is how vampire genes get thrown into non-mer family lines so like. Not a great idea if you don’t want to chance giving birth to some draculas!!!

They can fit through any space their head can fit into. They kind of navigate the world with octopus/cat vibes. Their arms are even more tentacle-y that classically arm shaped.

Eight to ten eyes with position and number differing by tribe.

On average they’re about 5-5.5ft long but powerful hirudo with lots of leeches can get 8ft+.

They’re actually known as some of the prettiest mermaids by humans.

Humans are some of their favorite prey.

Most biologist feel like this isn’t an evolutionary accident.

Immortality?: Hirudo can live for around three hundred years in perfect conditions but they’re not immortal, they grow old and die like anything else. Immortality in not out of reach for those able to push a few morals aside however, and can be accomplished two ways:

1. Feed exclusively on other hirudo. This is an asshole move for obvious reasons and can be done by consuming their leeches or going old school vampire and drinking right from the source. Can be killed if they’re dehydrated through aggressive salting or imprisoning on land for months.

2. Necromancy is just very advanced healing magic really. Carve enough arcane magic into your tummy buddies and you got yourself a real Leech Lich situation brewing. These hirudo can only be killed by thoroughly destroying all of their leeches.

#vampire #hirudo #salt #mermaid #body horror #small guide #that outfit went though a lot of alterations but i love the final so much

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damn-stark · 4 years

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All That’s Left Ch.1

A/N- I’m so excited to start this series, and I hope you guys are excited to read it, I loved this chapter and I’m sorry for what happens. Oh and also we are totally having a bearded Poe....Let me know what you thought.

Warning- cinnamon roll reader, fluff (you’ll know when you read) violence, angst, talks of blood & death, SLOW BURN! Long chapter

Pairing- Poe Dameron x reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged.)

————

The water under your boots splashes as you sprint forward, loud clashes sounding in the sky as the thunder rumbled in the dark clouds, the now familiar growls of the dead echoing loudly behind you; surpassing the sound of your heart hammering in your chest and the heavy breaths escaping out of your mouth.

You look over your shoulder to see flashes of blood and black veins displayed on the ugly, terrifying faces of the dead chasing behind you in a quick pace, their hands out and teeth snapping, the noise combining and blending with every lightening strike, in many ways seeming to taunt you, making you pull out your vibroblade and quicken your pace and spot a cave a few feet ahead.

A small exhausted smile makes it past your lips at the destination ahead. A tiny accomplishment you celebrated inside your head, but one that was quickly ruined as you were tackled to the wet ground by a corpse that caught you by surprise. The both of you rolling on the water until you landed on your back with the corpse on top you, trying with every effort to bite you.

With new adrenaline pumping in your blood you attempted to push it back, grunting at your tried efforts, managing to hold its head back with one hand while with the other one you attempted to search for your blade. Disappointingly enough coming out empty handed—“stars!” You turn your head to the side and spot your blade just a couple inches away from reach. Seeing that you shifted your body slightly to the side while also pushing back the corpse that kept snapping its teeth at you, an action that got more violent every second.

The blood from the corpse and the blood from your arm mixed with the clear water, the reflection of yourself getting lost within the red tint. Getting a new pain around your throat as your cloak was being pulled by another corpse that distracted you from reaching your weapon, letting the corpse on top of you gain the upper hand, raising his head and biting down on your hand. “Ahhh!” You bellow as you whip your head forward with a narrowed gaze, grunting with a new found strength that made you push back the corpse and finally come in contact with the tip of your blade.

Just as the corpse beside you dragged himself towards you to attempt another bite on your arm, a blast caved into it’s rotting head, before one more blast shot at the corpse behind you. The noise making your ears ring, and by luck managing to hear the echoes of someone’a deep voice shouting at you from your side.

That same voice showing himself before you, presenting an older man, his grey hair shinning by the water soaking it, his pale hand thrown before you with intention to help, “Take my hand kid.”

Without question you let him pull you up, grabbing your blade in the process and separating it to turn it into twin vibroblades. A gasp escaping your lips as you saw the swarm of corpses running towards you. “Theirs too many of them, we won’t make it.”

The man smirked, blasting down three corpses in the process. “You obviously haven’t met me.” Two corpses ran directly towards you, letting you quickly respond by swinging your blades and cutting their throats, three more following and slipping past the old man’s blasts.

And sure you were bit and your end was inevitable but one thing was for damn sure, you weren’t going to let this man that had saved you die here. So doing a quick lunge forward you impaled one corpse and then swung to the side to impale another one, both falling to the ground as you pulled your blades away.

“You’re good with those things, kid.” The man complimented while he shot down other corpses. “Might have to get myself some.”

You let out an amused huff of air, before responding, “thank you. You’re pretty good with that blaster.” The old man shrugged his shoulders and slightly tilted his head to the side, a cocky smirk appearing on his features—right before you were going to lunge at more corpses, they were all suddenly and magically pulled back, seconds later a loud blast hit the ground and sent the group that had been trying to reach you into little pieces. A mighty swing of a blue glowing blade slicing those corpses that had managed to survive.

In a shocked and wide eyed expression you looked ahead and saw two figures approaching, “What the hell? Who are—” the words—question you were going to ask cut off at the sound of one last blast sounding beside you, seeing the old man having shot a corpse that had managed to grip his ankle, luckily not managing to actually bite him, not like one did with you.

Again before you could ask who the people that had saved you were, the old man interrupted you, “quickly kid get into the cave.”

“But—” without hearing your argument or worry of the two strangers the old man urged you towards the cave, the darkness and the cold feeling basking the both of you, the heavy rain and loud rumbling thunder muffled by the thick walls.

“You okay kid?” The old man questioned.

“Yeah, just spooked.” You lied, seconds later seeing a blue light enter the cave, a soft light that basked a young man’s face—the stranger from before. His black eyebrows were furrowed, and his brown eyes reflected said light, his gaze turned into a glare that was directed at you before focusing on the man beside you. As the young man approached the old man you saw a resemblance. Maybe they were related? However the young man pulled the older man off to the side to talk in a not so discreet tone.

“What you did was stupid. I told you not to come save this girl. You risked your life for someone irrelevant and who could be bit.”

Okay...awkward.

Hearing his words however you knew he was unintentionally right about one thing. And hearing that you pulled your sleeve to see the fresh bite mark on your hand, a tear rolling down you cheek at what it meant, at what was going to happen.

“She’s just a kid Ben, she needed our help, I couldn’t just let her die.”

Ignoring the rest of the argument, and knowing that you were going to be nothing but a burden, you discreetly tried to leave the cave, only to be stopped by the tall hairy sentient you recognized as a Wookiee.

He expressed a low growl you couldn’t understand before grabbing your shoulders to turn you around and urging you away from the exit. He kept speaking in his own tongue, but it was one you sadly couldn’t understand. The Wookiee followed by pushing you down to sit on one of the stones, his flashlight flashing in your face as he turned it on to get a better look at you and the surrounding area.

“Hi,” You greeted warmly, ignoring the dull pain and itch coming from your bite wound.

The Wookiee responded, but again you didn’t understand, the only thing you did understand was the smile you saw on his face—or at least you thought it was a smile, you wouldn’t know, you couldn’t see shit in the cave.

“Kid will someone be looking for you out there?” The same old man asked as he joined you and sat on a stone himself.

You shook your head, your eyes briefly meeting the young man’s gaze. “No.”

The man’s eyebrows knotted in confusion and worry, not wanting to ask anything about your reasons of being alone and instead saying something else that made Ben protest. “Well if you want you can stick with us.”

Once again you meet Ben’s gaze, quickly looking away as he glared at you. “Uhmm it’s okay,” you pause and your eyes fall on the bite mark on your hand before meeting the man’s gaze, “I’ll just leave once the storm passes.”

Going where exactly? That was up for debate. The place you wanted to go to wasn’t an option anymore, not in your condition.

“Are you sure? We’ve been needing a new crew member, and well I think it would do my son, Ben here some good to talk to someone around his age.” The man pointed behind him, said man scoffing and pulling his shoulder away from the wall.

You couldn’t help the smile that grew at his comment and even if you would have loved to join them you didn’t want this man to carry the burden of you; “thank you for the offer but I’m sure. Plus I don’t think your son really wants me to join.”

The man chuckled and shook his head, “ignore him. He can be hard sometimes but he means good.” The old man flashed a wide grin before he finally introduced himself, “I’m Han. Han Solo. That young dashing man behind me is my son Ben and the walking carpet there is Chewbacca.”

“I’m y/n.” You grinned, “it’s nice and a relief to meet good people nowadays. Thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t worry about it kid,” Han looked over his shoulder to direct his comment to Ben, “Ben why don’t you and Chewie go find something to get a fire going. This storm isn’t going to let us get anywhere for a while, we’re going to have to stay for a little while. Y/n and I will stay behind.”

“Sure.” Ben grumbled.

Once both Ben and Chewbacca were gone you looked at Han and showed a playful smile, “he’s nice.”

“Very.” Han joked, his hand reaching to his ankle to scratch it for a brief second before he pulled it away and his smile turned into a frown. “Where are you heading?”

“I was heading to the resistance haven here in D’Qar.” You inform him, something he quickly spoke up to.

“Alone?”

You narrow your gaze on him and answer with hesitation, “Yes. Alone. Why is that so hard to believe?” Even if you knew it couldn’t be what he was implying you still spoke your mind to tease the old man. “Is it because I’m girl?”

Han hesitates to answer but when he does so he surprises you, “no. I saw you hold your own back there, I was impressed. What I meant was that it’s not safe to be traveling alone.”

“I’ve been alone for a couple weeks and didn’t have trouble until today.” You continue before catching him once again scratch his ankle, or wound that might be there, a wince escaping his lips as he did so. Maybe you should have asked, but their was no need for you to be so nosy with a man you just met.

“What if you would have ran into a bigger crowd of the dead? Or ran into the more dangerous ones? What would have you done then?” Was this considered a lecture? Or a lesson? Whatever it was you didn’t feel like hearing it. After years of a nagging brother and over protective...sister you’ve heard more than enough. “Or worse what if you ran into people worse than us?”

You shrug and looked at your mud covered boots, accepting said lecture—lesson regardless, “I don’t know? I don’t like to think of that.”

“All I’m saying kid is you need someone watching your back. Someone you trust or grow to trust, you don’t want to be alone. Not in times like these.” Han goes silent for a moment, through the cold darkness of the cave watching you process his words while his hand reached to scratch his ankle again. “Stick with us, like I said before we’ve been needing someone else to join the crew. We can also take you to the base.”

You gulp and look at your bite mark, realizing that the pain was not as bad as before, in fact it was less so. Was that weird? Maybe? You’ve never been bit before so all the knowledge you had was by seeing someone else go through it...it was pain that was hard to watch, once you’re bit their was ten-fifteen hours. It first starts with small pains where the bite is and then itching. The fever starts a couple hours after, that’s usually followed by fatigue. You know you’re closer to turning when your eyes begin to bleed and the black veins appear on the affected persons face......Dying isn’t long from then.

Now that you really get to think of it you examine Han closer, noticing the blood gleam on his hand by the natural light provided from above. You keep watching his actions to watch him wipe the blood off, trying his best not to scratch, but his hand still hovering above. Whilst also distracting himself with words. “You know what I’m not accepting no as an answer. Plus I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I left you behind.”

“Fine. You win.” You have the urge to ask him if he was bit or not but as you move your lips to ask, Ben and Chewbacca return, making you grow quiet, watching as they both quickly set up the fire, Ben’s eyes never off you, watching you as if he was trying to read your mind.

Creepy.

“Ben, Chewie it’s decided y/n will be coming with us to base. It’s not safe for her to be alone,” he looks to Ben and smiles, “play nice.” Han proceeds to chuckle at his own joke before calming down at looking at you, “why don’t you get some rest, y/n. The storm should be active for a couple more hours, we’ll wake you when we leave.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t trust strangers as quick as you did. Especially in times like these, but their was something about this man that was so easy to trust. He also took you in without much questions, but that could also be pity. Who knew. If you weren’t bit then you would be more than happy that he had found you and that you weren’t traveling alone anymore.

But alas you were. Damn shame.

—

“Only together can we remove the disorder from our own existence, so that civilization may be returned to the stability that promotes process. Join the First Order.” Your nose scrunches up at the propaganda paper, a piece of junk you ball in your hand and throw it in the mud. “Pfft. Please that’s bantha shit.”

The Wookiee says something but again it’s something you couldn’t understand, not until Han translated for you even if he was falling behind the group, visible sweat beads glistening on his forehead.

Was he really bit? Better yet were you? Seven hours in and no fever or fatigue. Nothing but the faint pain on the bite wound.

“Did you guys hear that it was The First Order that spread this virus in the first place?” You share to distract yourself from overthinking, a comment that made Ben scoff before finally talking to you even if he was being somewhat defensive.

“Those are rumors created by The Resistance. You can’t believe everything you hear.”

You quicken your pace to fall by his side and say your piece. “Would it be so shocking if they were true though? I just mean before everything began ten years ago, they invaded planets and took children to brainwash and use as soldiers. Would it be unlike them to do this?”

Ben glances at you, his eyebrows furrowing with that same look as before, the one where it seemed he wanted to read every thought in your head. “I guess not.”

“Regardless, at least have your motto make sense, or have it cause you chills like the one from the resistance. ‘Ignite the spark. Light the fire. Believe in the Resistance.’ The First Order is just some scramble of words that want it to sound pacifist. It’s bantha shit.”

Ben let out an amused huff of air at your comment, a very faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. A sight that made you proud and made Han smile. Right as Han was going to add to your argument, Ben put his arm out in front of you to stop you from walking further, a finger on his lips to tell you to be quiet before he pointed at a corpse in the distance. Not like the ones you faced before. No this was one was deadlier.

It’s eyes were a blood red, something that identified it from the other two types of known corpses, that and the fact that it was deaf and blind. That fact alone should make them weak and easy to kill but they weren’t, they traveled in packs, were quiet, quick, smart and mutated to use the vibrations of movement. Their skin was also somehow more resistant to blasts. Not immune to them, but harder to shoot down with one single blast. These were the corpses or as many people called them demons you didn’t want to cross.

“We can sneak past them.” You suggested as you stiffly watched it move around, his head snapping in each direction, and sniffing out for its other companions or what you believed was all of you.

“They’ll feel us. Theirs only one here but theirs more hiding around.” Ben informed, his blaster and blue blade already out. “Chewie shoot the ground next to it.” Without question the Wookiee did as Ben said, the demon following by roaring out and four more to do the same before they ran to the same spot.

“Y/n stay here, the rest of us will spread around and when I say go you grab one. Got it?” Han instructed with heavy breaths.

You nodded and took out your vibroblades, watching as Han slowly and with struggle moved to hide behind a tree, the other two doing the same—right when Han gave the word you all ran towards the demons, causing them to spin around and let out loud roars at all of you before they began to run.

In a hasty move you dodged a swing the demon made in attempts to strike you, using that opportunity to swing your own blade and cut its torso before spinning around stabbing its neck to then cut down its spine. The demon spun back, his arm swinging back and striking your face, the force knocking you off your feet. It quickly lowered his head to roar in your face, blood and spitting out and hitting your face before his hand was ready to grab your throat, but before it could, a blue blade cut its head clean off.

Ben looked down at you, his head shaking in disapproval. “Use a blaster next time.”

Don’t have one, but sure.

Regardless of his attitude and surprisingly enough he grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet.

“I’m fine by the way.....thank you.” You grumbled, your next words cut off as you snapped your head in the direction you heard another roar, seeing Han under one of the demons. He attempted to blast it, but the demon gripped his throat and lifted him in the air. Just as he was going to slam him to the ground, Ben forced pulled the demon and impaled it in the head, that causing it to instantly drop.

Quickly you ran to Han, falling on your knees beside him as he gasped for air. “Are you okay?” You stressed. The man responded with a simple nod, taking your hand as you tried to help him up, but as soon as he did his hand slipped and he fell to the ground unconscious.

“Dad?!” Ben rushed you to Han, being careful to lift him up off the ground, in that noticing something odd that made his eyebrows knot. “He’s burning up.”

Chewbacca joined the group and talked to Ben in a low growl, the exchange they were having getting lost in the back of your head as you came to the realization.

Han was bit. That explained the constant scratching, falling behind, struggling to breathe and speak, like every small effort he did was just wearying him off—without much thinking you raise his pant leg, the material of the pants sticking to the blood which made it hard to lift. But once you did you saw the truth. You all did.

“He’s bit.”

—

“It’s your fault! It’s your fault he’s bit!” Ben seethed, his face twisted into a angry scowl and his finger pointing at you. “If he never went to help you, he wouldn’t have gotten bit!”

All the hate, every possible way someone could hate a person was expressed in his eyes, all directed at you with a burning glare. Confrontation was never something you were good at, nor getting yelled at. And they were all things that were happening to you now, by a person you barely knew, about something that you felt very guilty about. And he didn’t hold back either. He didn’t care if your eyes watered or if you could barely hold his stare, he just blamed you...

...like he should.

“B-Ben.” Han struggled to say, sitting up shakily to attempt to grab his sons attention. “Ben st-stop. Leave her a-alone.”

“No, she should be the one that should’ve been bit instead of you.” Ben fumed.

You wipe the tear off your cheek and throw your hood over your head, only managing to glance at him for a second before your eyes returned to the ground, a loud and intimidated whisper directed to Han before you spun around. “I’m sorry Han.” You quicken your pace to try and make a hasty escape, saying your goodbyes to the Wookiee as you passed by him, “goodbye Chewbacca.”

The Wookiee responded with a low mewl and just as the exit of the cave was in view, Hans voice was heard calling to you; “kid wait!”

The safest option was to just leave and ignore the dying man but you knew if you did then you would regret it, the memory would haunt you.

So with your head hung low you slowly walked back, wiping another tear off with the sleeve of your shirt, not missing the way Ben scoffed as he saw you stand by his fathers side.

“Let me see your right hand.” Han instructed softly, getting a confused reaction from both Ben and you, but you doing as he said nonetheless—at first you tried not give away how scared you felt knowing that he would see the bite, but as he felt your forehead with the back of his hand and unwrapped the bandage around it you got the idea he might know? “No fever, no blood...nothing.”

Han blinked up at you with a perplexed gaze before turning to look at Ben to call him over with a motion of his head. Something Ben listened to with much hesitance.

“Take a look at her wound and mine.” Han pulled the blanket off his leg to compare his wound, “She got bit minutes before I did and she’s shown no symptoms.”

He knew.

Ben pulled your hand out of his dads grasp to examine it closely before looking at you with that stupid glare. “You were bit and didn’t say anything?”

“Why would I tell you anything.” You snapped whilst pulling your hand out of his. “You would’ve killed me the moment you knew.”

Ben responded with silence, pulling his eyes away from you and focusing on his dad, “this doesn’t mean anything, she could die all the same.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Han interjected quickly, “we may not know what it would mean but.....your mother would.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you speak up in disbelief, “it’s like Ben says I could die all the same, I’m not special.”

“Kid—-” his next words are harshly cut off by loud coughing and blood rolling down his cheeks.

Ben froze at the sight, a lost and hurt look replacing the glare from before. Taking that exact moment to fully grasp the idea that their was not much time left for his father, but also taking this time to exit the cave faster than you thought was humanly possible.

Not having another option and actually wanting to do such a thing you grabbed your water bottle and a clean cloth, wetting it before you carefully brought it up to wipe the blood off Han. A assuring smile on your features while expressing soft words.

“Thank you for saving me...thanks for being nice to me too. You didn’t have to but you were.”

Han chuckled even if he struggled too, surprisingly not moving away from your gesture— “the least I could do kid I told you already,” he paused briefly to let out another cough, more blood rolling down his cheeks; “you were nice to a couple strangers too. You shouldn’t be.”

You hum softly as you fold the cloth in half and wipe sweat and blood from his face, “you remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Your grandfather?” Han joked.

“No, my father actually,” tears pool your eyes at the sight of the black veins faintly appearing on his face, accompanied by more blood and coughing—“I also have the tendency to get attached too easily. Something my brother used to say is my fatal flaw.”

Chewbacca comes to your side and lays his friend on the ground, his own eyes gleaming with tears. Han tried to speak but it was soon cut off by coughing, something that made him stop, letting you continue to gently wipe the blood that streamed down his cheeks.

“Do you want to hear a story my sister would tell me when I was younger?” Your eyes slide to meet his own as he strained to make a comment.

“Do I have choice?”

“No.” You smiled before starting, “she would only ever tell me one story, each time with a different ending. But I’ll tell you my favorite.” You sigh before continuing sadly, unaware that Ben was listening in.

“It was about a smuggler left to take a princess to save her planet from a darkness that threatened to take over. The smuggler hated everything he had to do, he hated the princess alike. Or at least that’s what he would say because as stubborn as he acted he slowly fell in love with her throughout that “doomed assignment ” and she with him. Even if she knew that in order to save her planet she was going to have to die. The smuggler also knew, he understood. But when they neared the planet, the pain and realization hit, something that made him change the route to take her away saying “my world is full of darkness, and losing you means that I would lose the only light I’ve ever had in my life, without you I would lose myself forever.””

You stop to wipe your own tear from your cheek, that letting Han cut in. “That’s a sappy story.”. You chuckle and just as Chewbacca was going to ask you to finish Ben walked up behind you, without having to say word causing you to move away and give them space.

Watching them interact from afar, watching as Han took Ben’s hand before reaching up to cup his cheek, wiping the tears that would slowly crawl down his face, watching Han smile even through his pain and knowledge that his moments weren’t long anymore. Shedding no tears and remaining strong for the son in front of him.

The only words you did tune into were words you found kind and meaningful in a lot of ways. Words that made you see Ben differently or at least helped you not be as harsh as you had been before; “I know what I have to do but I don’t know if I have the strength to do it.”

“You do.”

Ben stayed silent for a moment before he let out a shaky breath, “Dad....”

“I know.” Han smiled.

—

The long awaited time of your death never happened, as much as you waited, as much as you waited for a symptoms to show none did. But it was at that time when waiting, when you watched the pain in Ben eyes and heard the pain Chewbacca’s cry at the loss of their loved one did everything change.

Life for you wasn’t just about survival anymore but about something greater. Or at least that’s what Han said before the inevitable happened, before he took his last breath and....Ben’s pain was turned into a painful heartbreak and was left to do what no son should ever do.

An action that was necessary before the turn happened.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you watched Ben turn from the grave sight with tears rolling down his cheeks.

He stopped beside you and without turning to you or giving much reaction he spoke words you didn’t think he was going to say; “I’ll take you to my mother.”

You nodded in agreement knowing that he wasn’t asking but rather letting you know—then again it’s not like you were going to refuse or just walk away. And even if Ben hated you it was better than being alone.

“The resistance haven isn’t far, we’ll make it before sun down if we hurry. Their will be someone there who will help us.”

“Ok.”

Right before he was going to walk past you he stopped and grabbed your arm to turn you to face him, so the words he was going to say were clearly understood, “you can’t tell anyone you’re immune, you hear me?” He met your gaze and repeated himself in a louder voice, “you hear me?”

“I hear you.” You hissed, not knowing this was only the first rule of many.

—

“Nothing! Theirs nothing here!” A sight of bright blue flashed in your eyes as the blade appeared from within Ben’s hilt, followed by violent and constant swings against anything and everything in his path. The sight of it all making you flinch and tear your eyes away only managing to look up at him when nothing was heard but his heavy breathing.

At that moment seeing the pain in his eyes, the tears that threatened to fall by the blue light basking his face in a soft way.

Maybe you should have said something in that instant, comforted the hurting man in some way, but what you had just seen scared you away to do anything but silently watch. Ben noticed the fear in your eyes and was going to apologize for his violent outburst, but Chewbacca entered the abandoned room and cut off what Ben was going to say.

“It can’t be. The last time we heard of it was years ago, my....” Ben trailed off as his gaze turned distant and hurt. Only being able to react moments later to say something to you, “come on, we found a ship.”

You quickly followed behind Ben and Chewbacca, spotting a huge white old looking ship parked in the distance. It’s ramp open and no one seeming to be guarding it or around it, but that fact still didn’t let Ben go in right away, instead he pulled you harshly to hide behind a tree. That action making your heart race out of fear, wanting to react but quickly being quieted as Ben covered your mouth to point out a small round droid coming out of said ship.

Once the droid seemed to be far enough Ben pulled away and stood at a distance, ignoring the way your eyebrows furrowed at his previous action.

“Who’s ship is that?” You probed.

Ben looked at the ship and then to you, “it’s my fathers...it’s the Falcon.”

Me knowing what’s planned for the rest of the series. All you have to know is that it’s ANGST and PAIN PACKED!! And this chapter may or may not foreshadow a lot of things. 😗 ALSO ALSO WOULD Y’ALL LIKE TO SEE BEN SOLO X READER??? Like it won’t be the same as our main ship, but it will make it angsty, lowkey and super hinted at. Let me know????

Tagged- @thescarletknight2014 , @lanatheawesome , @yodaboo , @geo-winchester , @ginger-swag-rapunzel , @mamanoota5

Permanent taglist- @ms-dont-care , @commondazy

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bi-naesala · 3 years

Text

Found you (chapter three)

Bad Batch arc retelling (sort of) | Fives lives AU

Also on AO3

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

They’re still trying to break Echo free.

Fives has been fussing over his brother all this time, checking on his vitals and everything else. Echo isn’t much talkative but he will sometimes say that he’s good; if he wasn’t in such disastrous conditions Fives would’ve smacked him on the head because he clearly isn’t fine, but hey, at least he’s talking.

Rex is right beside him, reminding him not to overtax Echo too much. He’s right of course, but there’s just so much Fives wants to say or do that it’s hard for him to remain still. He has taken Echo’s hand and he’s not letting go. No matter what, he won’t.

He’s so focused on Echo that he notices the general’s arrival only when he speaks.

“How is he, Rex?”

He sounds worried, and Fives can see in his eyes that he too wants to do something to help, he just doesn’t know what.

Fives lets Rex do the talking while he goes back to Echo, caressing his arm with a carefulness that he’s sure would offend Echo if he noticed it. It’s just that he looks so fragile now, like he could break at any given moment. Besides, the last thing he wants to do now is to accidentally hurt him more than he’s already hurting.

He must have endured so much…

Fives has no idea about what he would’ve done if he was in Echo’s shoes. He doubts he would’ve resisted this long, his vod has always been stronger than him.

They aren’t even able to contact an extraction squad. Well, they knew already this was very likely to happen, but still, Fives wouldn’t have minded it if for once things went their way.

It’s not too bad, they can manage on their own. They’ve done it already and they’ll do it again, he has to remind himself of this.

The only problem is that Echo’s not able to walk, not yet at least, but that won’t be a problem either: Fives can carry him with ease.

Nevermind, they’re locked here.

Things can’t go well if they stay here for too long, but for now they can only seal the doors hoping that it will at least slow the upcoming droids down enough to grant them some time to think about a plan.

Tech still needs more time, the problem is that they don’t have more time! Things are beginning to get pretty bad, but at least Fives is sure of one thing: they won’t go down without a fight. He refuses to give up now that he’s found Echo again.

“I got it! We can unplug him now!” Bless you Tech.

There’s something so heartbreaking in the slow pliant way Echo turns around, but there’s no time to think about that as Fives and Rex proceed to unplug him. It’s obvious that this process is hurting him, and Fives tries to sustain him with his other arm, not wanting him to fall down.

Still, the last plug, the one directly on his head, must be the worse one, because Echo screams, and if it wasn’t for Fives he would’ve fallen. After a moment his body, which was so tense before, begins to relax, and Echo begins to breathe again.

“Rex… Fives…” he calls, voice still weak but not as weak from before.

“What is it?” Fives asks, worried that they’ve done something bad, as he helps Echo to sit down again.

“I’ve got a big headache,” Echo says, with one of those cheeky smiles Fives has missed so much. Was this all he wanted to say?

“Damn you Echo, you scared me!” Fives exclaims, trying to ignore Rex’s chuckle at those words, but he can’t and eventually he finds himself smiling as well.

Well, he supposes he can let this slide. Just this once.

“It’s better to feel something than nothing, old buddy,” Rex says and yeah, at least on this they can all agree.

“It’s a touching reunion, guys, but we need to get out of here and we need to do it now!”

And Skywalker is right as well. The only problem is: how are they going to accomplish that? Their only way outside has been sealed!

Unexpectedly, it’s Echo the one with the key to help them. There’s a vent up in the ceiling that leads to the cooling systems. They can used that to make their exit.

“Nice job, Echo,” Fives mutters, gently patting on his shoulders. Echo smiles at him and all Fives wants to do is to pull him closer in his arms and stay there as long as he can, feeling him close, but he knows that now it’s not the right time for that. They have to wait.

Well, whatever they need to do they need to do it quick, because the droids have managed to reach the front door.

Again, it’s Echo that saves the day: the prosthesis on his arm - and Fives still has to come around the fact that he has prosthesis now - can be used to control machinery, much like a droid’s one. He’s the one that gets the door open.

Now they only need to get up there, and Wrecker seems to know a way to do it, which consists of simply throwing them up. At least he’s useful for something.

“Come here,” Fives says to Echo, letting him settle against his back and grabbing his legs, “Hold on tight.”

Echo nods; he won’t let go.

Fives was expecting for Wrecker to be at least a bit more delicate with him, since he’s holding Echo, but no, no special treatment for him. Thankfully he still manages to hold tight and not fall.

“How are you doing Echo?” he asks.

“I’ve been better,” is the amused reply coming from the other.

“Nice to see they gave you a sense of humor,” Fives jokes. He doesn’t think about the fact that maybe it’s too soon to make jokes like that, at least not before uttering it, but before he can apologize he feels Echo’s finger stabbing against his cheek.

“Shut up! I always had a sense of humor,” Echo replies, but he’s laughing, and Fives can’t help but to chuckle as well.

“Sure, whatever you say,” he mutters, before beginning to move up.

They can faintly hear the sound of an explosion under them, and they can only assume it’s the lab blowing up.

Good, at least they won’t have anything to conduct their horrid experiments anymore.

So, while the Techno Union got access to Echo’s brain, Echo in turn got access to their database. Fives wouldn’t exactly call it a fair exchange, but it’s better than nothing, not to mention how his knowledge has been what has just saved them.

Echo is now strong enough to walk, though he still leans heavily on Fives’ shoulder to do so. He had offered to keep carrying him but he refused.

Fives understands: sometimes you just don’t want to feel like a burden, even though he would never consider Echo as such.

Rex constantly turns behind to check on him, even though he doesn’t say anything - probably in order not to tire Echo out too much. The three of them will surely get a talk later; it’s not something Fives is particularly looking forward too, but he knows that it’ll have to happen sooner or later.

He just wants to enjoy having his vod back, is that too much to ask?

“So, how do we escape from here exactly, Echo?”

“Yeah, is there a safe way out of here?”

Echo chuckles.

“Well, there is a way.” A cough. “But you’re not gonna like it.”

If anything, Fives is glad to see that the Techno Union hasn’t taken away Echo’s craziness out of him. Does he really expect them to just walk on this pipe, a pipe that, let’s be clear, is very much high in a way that, would any of them fall, they are surely going to die, just to get to the landing pad? Oh, Fives has missed him so much.

They’re not even sure there’s a ship on the other side. They might just get there and find nothing, but it’s not like they have a better plan.

Nobody’s that excited about this prospect, just as Echo predicted, but they have no choice but to follow him.

“Need any help, Echo?” Fives asks, making Echo huff.

“You don’t need to coddle me, you know?” he says.

“I’m not coddling you, you’ve just been inside a stasis chamber for about a year so excuse me for worrying about your physical state, ok?!”

It wasn’t nice for him to say, and he knows it. He sighs then, lowering his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “I’m just worried.”

“I know,” Echo replies, voice softer this time, “But I’m getting better, ok?”

“Ok.”

“And I can take care of myself.”

He knows, Fives knows it well. He shakes his head.

“Yeah, I know vod.”

Then Fives steps away, bowing at gesturing towards the pipe.

“After you.”

Echo chuckles, beginning to step onto it.

“Can’t believe they’ve finally taught you manners,” he whispers, but Fives still hears him.

“Hey!”

They’re halfway through the pipe when they see in front of them droids marching towards their position. Kriff.

They can’t even go back because there are droids there too! They’ve been trapped!

Thankfully Tech has an idea: they can call the creatures that have brought them there to leave. The only problem is how they should get on them. Tech says to jump, but they can’t can they?

Skywalker of course is the first one to go with it, because this is the kind of craziness he’d pull. For a moment Fives is afraid they’re gonna see their general plummet to his death, but he manages to get onto one of the Keeradaks.

The second one to go, unexpectedly, is Echo. Fives shouts uselessly after him, reaching for him with one hand as if he could actually be able to pull him up, but he’s too far already. Thankfully, he too manages to hold on one of the beasts, so at least he’s safe.

Well, there’s no other choice…

Fives jumps.

He doesn’t scream while he does so, whatever the others will tell you is a lie. He heroically jumps and perfectly lands on the beast, not at all holding for dear life.

Hey, he made it!

There’s only one problem now: those damned droids can fly too. Fives can’t even do anything about it because he either shoots or he holds on, and he’d rather not fall. General Skywalker is right: they need to shake those things off.

“Echo!” he calls out in this mess, “You good?”

“Never better!” he replies, sounding like he’s having the time of his life. Lucky him.

Despite everything, Fives can’t help but to smile. It’s good that Echo’s recovering his good mood already.

Besides he’s not wrong, this is fun.

“Where should we go?” Rex asks, or better, shouts, at general Skywalker. Yeah, they can’t exactly keep flying around like this; they need a secure place that they can use as base.

“We have no other choice!” Skywalker replies, “Let’s get back to the village!”

It’s the only choice they have, since getting to the ship now would mean that the droids would destroy it, leaving them stranded in a hostile planet. Still…

“The Poletecs are not going to like it,” Fives can’t help but to comment, remembering what they have told them as soon as they got there about not wanting anything to do with their war.

Yeah, they’re not going to be happy about this…

As predicted, they aren’t happy about this at all, but they manage to convince them to help them. Well, captain Rex does.

What did he do? Simple: he finally exploded. He let out all the anger that he’s always kept inside as he spoke, as he made the Poletec leader see what they have done to Echo. His vod looked so vulnerable as he let himself be scrutinized under those flabbergasted gaze, and yet he didn’t falter, determined. Fives is so proud of him.

The Techno Union might be playing the neutral part, but they have chosen sides. Now it’s the Poletecs’ turn to choose, and they do.

“Couldn’t have said it better,” Skywalker says, complimenting Rex, and Fives can’t help but to agree.

“See?” he says to Echo, voice proud, “Our captain’s still got it.”

“I can see that,” the other replies, chuckling, “Some things just don’t change, don’t they?”

“Yeah…” Fives replies, and it’s then that he realizes that Echo still doesn’t know about the Chancellor, about the chips, about anything really. He should use this time to finally inform him about all the things he’s missed…

“I hope this works, because I see forces coming,” Crosshair warns them, voice worried enough to consequently worry everyone else, “More than we can handle alone.”

Well, looks like their debrief will have to wait.

At least the Poletecs are helping them, so their number is greater than before - not by much giving their inferior firepower, but it’s still something.

What they have an advantage on, however, is the terrain, that the Polects know well. They can plan an ambush.

Before they go their separate ways, Echo with general Skywalker and Crosshair while Fives remains on the ground with the others, Fives hands Echo something.

“Here.”

“This is--”

“My blaster, I know,” Fives replies, continuing then, amused, when he sees Echo’s surprise on his face, “What? You thought we were gonna send you into battle without a weapon? Besides, I have another one.”

Echo accepts the blaster, grateful.

“And here I thought that I was going to punch some droids…”

“Didn’t know you were Commander Cody,” Fives jokes, making Echo laugh.

“Does he still do that?”

“Of course he does,” Fives shrugs, “Though he’s more of a kicking guy and you know it. It’s those heathens of his men that are fond of punching.”

“Like you aren’t a heathen yourself,” Echo retorts, chuckling at Fives’ offended gasp.

“Shut up!” he says, but after a moment of silence, he continues, this time serious, “Be careful.”

The smile vanishes from Echo’s mouth, a determined expression taking its place.

“You too.”

They hide, letting the droids land. Once they’re grouped enough, Skywalker gives his signal to Wrecker, who single-handedly pushes a boulder down on them, successfully killing a bunch.

The Poletecs charge and the rest of the droids does too. It begins.

Fives has to admit it, the natives are not so bad. They’re handling themselves pretty well against the droids. To be quite honest he had thought that it was going to be way worse than this.

Still, now it’s time for their intervention.

He shoots down as many droids as he can. Maybe he’s not as showy as the rest of the squad, but it’s efficient; he had thought about doing something not to be outshined by the others, but this isn’t the right moment for that kind of competition. Maybe another time, when their life isn’t on the line.

Sometimes he steals a few glances at Echo, but he seems to be handling himself pretty well, handling his blaster like he was fresh of ARC training. That’s good, that’s very good.

Things were going pretty well, then the Octuptarras came. It keeps getting better and better.

They run for cover, but it’s not enough. They need to take these things down and fast.

“Fives, Hunter, Wrecker, you’re with me,” Rex says, and they follow him. Four against one might seem unfair, but given the size of that thing Fives can say that things are pretty even.

No matter how much they shoot, however, they’re barely grazing it, and let’s not talk about also all the dodging they have to make to be still in one piece; they have to be constantly on the move. At least the general seems to be having a good time cutting off the thing’s cannons, rending it practically useless.

“That works, but how are we going to get up there?” Rex asks. As an immediate response, Wrecker walks to him and Rex, who has understood already what he wants to do, tries to make him desist, but no matter how many times he says no, there’s nothing he can do: Wrecker picks him up and, without a second thought, throws him at the Octuptarra. If the situation were different, Fives would’ve lost it at the way his fearless captain screams, but he’s too busy being picked up next.

To be quite honest, he doesn’t mind being thrown; it’s actually kind of fun. He doesn’t understand why Rex doesn’t like it.

He manages to hold onto one of the cannons, and soon he’s joined by Hunter, though the thing begins to spin in an attempt to shake them off. Thankfully that’s not the case as they all hold steady.

Aiming while holding for dear life isn’t easy, but Fives manages to take down the eye, and by the sounds of it he guesses Rex and Hunter have done the same as well. At least now it’s blind.

Skywalker’s idea is great, still he could’ve warned them that he was going to push the other Octuptarra against theirs! All they can do is to hold on for dear life as they begin their descent, hoping they won’t be trapped under the debris.

When Fives crashes, he feels a lot of pain, but he still finds himself able to move his body, so he doesn’t think anything’s broken - he’s still going to let Kix check on him when they come back just to be sure, because unlike certain people, he doesn’t hide his injuries, except for a few times but there was an important reason behind that… anyway, let’s carry on.

He’s helped up by Rex.

“You ok, Fives?” he asks while the other dusts off his armor.

“Yeah,” he replies. There’s no point in worrying him for something he’s not even sure about.

Around them, the Poletecs start cheering for their victory. As soon as the Octuptarras were down, the rest of the droids have retreated, so at least they don’t have that to worry about anymore.

No, there’s something else to worry about now. Fives joins Echo immediately, ignoring whatever’s going on between the general and the Poletecs’ leader, worried that he might’ve sustained some kind of injury. You can imagine the relief when he sees that not only he’s safe, but he also seems to be in a better condition than him. Figures.

“It’s good to be back,” Echo can’t help but to say, looking like he’s this close from crying for the happiness, and frankly it’s the same for Fives.

“It’s good to have you back,” he says then, hands on the other’s shoulder, squeezing them. He’s real. He’s truly real. “Vod, I’m so sorry. If I--”

“I don’t want to hear none of that, Fives,” Echo interrupts him, “We knew what we were getting into from the start.”

Fives appreciates that Echo is not mad at him, but still this doesn’t shake the guilt he feels for having left him for dead at the Citadel.

Before he can say something that he knows will only make Echo mad - he always hated being pitied - he finally, kriffing finally, hugs him properly, squeezing him in his arms. He’s so thin, now he can feel it even better, but he’s here at least, that’s what matters. After a moment of tense surprise, Echo melts into the embrace, going to close his arms around Fives’ shoulders. He’s shaking, Fives can feel it, but he doesn’t comment on it, supporting his brother’s weight in his arms.

They’re so taken in each other that they don’t hear the steps that are approaching them until captain Rex, now on their left, clears his throat.

“Could I have some time with Echo too?” he asks, his tone obviously teasing. When Fives and Echo turn to look at him, they can see that he’s smirking, something that he does as well.

“Mmmh…”he mumbles, pretending to think about it, “No offense sir, but I think not.”

They all chuckle, and Fives and Echo pull away, although reluctantly. They have both misses that special contact between them so much, and now that they’ve gotten a taste of it again, it’s hard not to succumb in the temptation and stay like this forever. Still, they do need to leave.

They’re about to make their way to the ship, when Echo says something.

“Fives, Rex… Thanks, for coming after me.” The way he says it is horrible: it’s like he didn’t think they would try to find him. It’s so sad that they’ve spent all their - although short - life being told that they’re expendable, so much that when they’re shown genuine kindness, they don’t know how to react.

Things will get better for them. They have too: everything is changing, and people are finally starting to recognize the part they’ve played in this war, starting to recognize their worth not only as soldiers, but as people too.

Speaking of change…

“Let’s get inside,” he says, softly, draping one arm over Echo’s shoulder as they resume to walk, “There’s a lot that you missed.”

Echo doesn’t say anything at first, but he does send him a curious gaze.

“Good things, I hope.”

Fives chuckles.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

#arc trooper fives #captain rex #arc trooper echo #the bad batch #tcw #sw #star wars #my fics #mine #found you

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