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soaps-mohawk · 2 days

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 10,232...oops

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff

A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.

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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate.

What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest.

No one can help you.

You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place.

The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked.

The thought sends a chill running down your spine.

You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover.

Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens.

How long has it been up there?

You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you.

Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat.

You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room.

You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious.

You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk.

A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed.

You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing.

Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden.

You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn.

Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.

You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you?

You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick.

You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here?

The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic.

You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again.

“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?”

You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything.

You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen.

Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too.

“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.

“Is everything alright?” She finally asks.

“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.”

It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously.

“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says.

“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.”

“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?”

“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit.

You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine.

You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction.

You just want to feel at home again.

You want to be safe again.

***

The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.

You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat.

You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening.

Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it.

You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping.

You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room.

You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in.

You need tomorrow to come, and fast.

***

Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort.

All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position.

You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed.

That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along.

The thought sends a chill running down your spine.

You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission.

You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do.

You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so.

You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer.

She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?”

No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety.

But what if she gets mad?

Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on.

You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything.

“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.”

You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you.

You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you.

“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?”

“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.”

Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?”

“I-I’m sure.” You reply.

There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.”

You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong.

You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions.

You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it.

You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still.

They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid.

Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare.

One of many.

You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again.

At least, until they have to leave again.

You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return.

***

Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again.

You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright.

You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again.

John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain.

His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again.

“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head.

You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm.

He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here.

“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.”

You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first.

“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again.

“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.”

You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain?

“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.”

Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him.

And so you do.

Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body.

They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe.

Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact.

***

“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller.

“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.”

“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.”

“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.”

“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks.

“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.”

“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces.

“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.”

“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand.

“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center.

John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far.

“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving.

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently.

You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back.

He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment.

Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task.

So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you.

Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea.

Or maybe that was their plan all along.

He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out.

Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave.

He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them.

Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you.

***

You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.

“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you.

You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking.

John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth.

You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you.

“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says.

Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up.

“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek.

Even though they're back, you still don't have them.

You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”

John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea?

Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start.

You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up?

You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door.

Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it?

You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late.

You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving.

You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement.

You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief.

“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room.

You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene.

Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly.

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure.

“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking.

“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.

He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either.

“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.”

Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”

He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before.

You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general.

Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification.

Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room.

“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be.

And here you are making things worse.

“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone.

“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.”

You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand.

Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you.

They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened.

You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds.

This is your life now. This is your new normal.

“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet.

You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again.

Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours.

It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.

***

You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket.

“Can you breathe under there?”

You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke.

“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything.

“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.”

He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal.

“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek.

You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened.

The dark thought sends a chill down your spine.

“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit.

John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it.

He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous.

You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest.

His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down.

“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”

You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control.

“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”

You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation.

At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it?

You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside.

He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting.

You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.

Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger.

The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.

The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha.

***

“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk.

“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them.

Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore.

John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him.

“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”

“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch.

“No promises.”

Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else.

He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too.

He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them.

He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again.

John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided.

Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling.

“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”

“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him.

“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”

“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes.

“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”

The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle.

Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress.

Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses.

“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long.

“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now.

He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence.

An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger.

He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.”

He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor.

“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.

“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door.

“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office.

He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time.

“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”

“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters.

“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.”

John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds.

If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives.

John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room.

Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind.

You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again?

Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded.

Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help.

Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle.

How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them?

Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet.

He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure.

John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold.

Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again.

Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress.

“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie.

Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you.

It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most.

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #poly task force 141 #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #x reader #alpha/beta/omega #a/b/o #omegaverse

1K notes · View notes

vnusoki · 2 days

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Could you possibly do I’d like reader was suuuper quite in bed like only a few noises leave her the whole time and it’s not bc she doesn’t enjoy it she’s just quite BUT the jjk men do not know that so they’re like all worried? Does that make any sense ? 😭

DIAMONDS ARE NOTHING WHEN IM ROCKING WITH YA . . .

# synopsis. your quiet in bed. how do they react?

# tags. satoru gojo, nanami kento, toji fushiguro x reader. sixteen plus because it’s very suggestive. like talks about it but never in depth. mostly describing feelings. teasing.

# notes. hope you enjoyed this .ᐟ not proofread. this is short ash. srry if i trailed off 🙆🏽‍♀️..

SATORU GOJO wouldn’t notice at first. the sounds of his own pleasure would block out of everything as he connects with you over and over again. he only realises after he hears a poorly muffled moan escape from your lips and he sees you blushing mm Like never before once you realise he’d heard. your press your face further into the pillows, refusing to look at him. at first he thinks it’s because your hurt and he’s immediately fretful but then when you reassure him that it’s because your embarrassed, you know you’ve messed up. now, you could practically feel the teasing smile on his face as he plays with a strand of your hair, whispering dirty words into your ear. ‘‘what was that baby? say it again f’ me, won’t you?’’

NANAMI KENTO noticed immediately. he saw how you pressed your hand against your swollen lips in some feeble attempt to hide your pleasure. every time he’d gently grasp your wrist in his hands, still entering you but at a slower pace this time. he thinks that he may not be meeting your standards when he first sees you do it but when you give him a kiss in answer, he knows it’s not that. he smiles when he realises that your doing it to hide your ‘embarrassing’ noises from him. he peppers kisses all along your face, trailing them down across the plane of your neck and the bone of your collar and further down. he would smile at you, his eyes holding the promise of a tease later. ‘‘don’t hide from me baby…c’mon, let me hear you…’’

TOJI FUSHIGURO is the fattest tease there ever is if he ever sees you hiding your moans. he would immediately grab your hands, a laugh erupting from him once he sees you hide your noises. in response, he would pummel into you, faster and harder eliciting several inappropriate sounds from you and this time you can’t hide them from him. your voice only turns hin even more on. his hand still clutching yours, he’d bring his face closer to yours until he’s only a mere breath away and he’d kiss you, deep and ferociously like the man he is. his other hand trailing down the curves of your body causing you to moan and gasp into his mouth. you can feel the smile grazing his lips. ‘‘aw, hiddin’ from me, are ya? let me here ya again, doll…’’

1K notes · View notes

bestworstcase · 18 hours

Text

option 1: tai’s guarding the crown of choice.

pros:

a legitimately important task that recontextualizes his ongoing decision to remain on patch as a personal sacrifice he makes for the greater good.

ozpin would pick the guy named for the god of light to be the gatekeeper of choice, huh.

if any parent in this story is meant to die, it’s him, and narratively this is the most intuitive way to do it.

cons:

realistically, what can tai do to prevent salem / cinder / summer from accessing the vault if they find it? if he’s the gatekeeper, staying on patch alone after everyone else evacuates achieves nothing except, ah, signaling to the enemy that the real vault is under signal academy. bad plan.

it means oz is breaking his promise to be honest and forthcoming, undermining his character growth for the sake of ‘surprising’ the audience with the most obvious answer.

means qrow has either been kept in the dark (see prev point) or he’s also deliberately hiding this information from his nieces after they asked him outright if he knew where tai is; this is so far afield for his character as to border on character assassination, and likewise undermines his positive growth since v7.

honestly makes both yang and ruby seem kind of stupid. they know the crown is hidden somewhere near beacon, that ozpin did something to protect it differently from the others, and that their father hasn’t left patch. ruby was sharp enough to guess that long memory might be a relic hidden in plain sight; yang is just as smart, and she knows tai had “some things” to look after on patch. are we expected to believe that “hey, is dad guarding the relic?” somehow hasn’t occurred to either of them?

tai harbors a whole lot of resentment toward ozpin, and based on qrow kicking him out of ruby’s bedroom to drip-feed her hints on where to go next, he seems to have been on the outer perimeter of the inner circle. why would oz entrust him with the relic’s safety?

glynda—ozpin’s scrupulously loyal second-in-command whose emblem is a crown and whose semblance puts her on par with a maiden—is a far more narratively plausible vault-guardian than tai, and the “sun dragon” makes a damn good red herring.

if he’s guarding the vault, he dies. sorry. but the point of putting the father of 2/4 protagonists in between the two main villains and the thing they want most (choice) is so they can kill him to get it, increasing tension and raising the emotional stakes of negotiating peace. to be clear, rwby is willing to Go There, but i think it’s an unsatisfactory way to close out the rose xiao long family arc.

option 2: survivors trapped under mountain glenn, and tai is taking point.

pros:

a genuinely important, worthwhile thing for him to be doing—even more so than guarding the crown. likely sets up a resolution for him in the vein of “you can be a good huntsman or a good father, and tai picked being a huntsman,” which is an elegant way to balance his contradictions.

gives him meaningful stuff to do in v10; for example, one stealthy huntsman with a bullhead could slip in and out of mountain glenn to get a few dozen people out at a time, and/or run supplies and messages between the kingdoms.

we get to see zwei back in action around mountain glenn :)

introduces a natural segue from playing defense in vacuo to mounting a counteroffensive against beacon as tai’s work clarifies the situation in vale.

easily the most 'heroic' direction for him without contorting the story to arbitrarily lionize tai: he’s a scout preparing the stage for the heroes to take the fight to salem, making him the good counterpart to watts.

cons:

makes no sense to keep it a secret. the emotional beats of B4 can still happen if the girls know this is what tai’s doing: instead of “do you… wonder why he’s not here? i know qrow said he’s on assignment, but what’s more important than here?” yang says “do you… wish he were here? with us? i know qrow said he’s looking for survivors, but how many of them can there really be by now? we need all the help we can get,” and ruby says “maybe we don’t have the full picture” as in maybe dad knows something we don’t and that’s why he hasn’t given up yet. the emotion is the same, and the big "they’re hiding in mountain glenn" reveal is hinted without spoiling.

leaves hanging the narrative thread of what tai has been doing since the fall of beacon, because the “some things” he was dealing with in v4 obviously wasn’t this.

option 3: tai is dead.

pros:

explains the apparent secrecy; qrow knows tai was away “on assignment” (i.e., had taken a huntsman contract that brought him out of the kingdom) at the time salem attacked vale, so he is missing but not yet presumed dead.

might reopen the mystery box of summer’s last mission through the real-deal “left on a mission and never came back” echo.

cons:

raven would know.

it’s a cheap, narratively unsatisfying twist that fails to deliver on the bread crumbs set up in v2-3 (tai starts going on missions again) and v4 (“some things”), and also undermines any serious emotional resolution with regard to yang and ruby’s complex relationships with tai.

option 4: summer’s working with salem, and tai is trying to convince her to come back.

pros:

“some things” being his presumed-dead wife who left him to join the enemy and with whom tai is now having an affair or otherwise hoping to coax back to the heroic side through the power of love whilst also keeping his mouth shut about her being a) still alive and b) a traitor is OBJECTIVELY the funniest answer.

brings forward and interrogates the way tai’s romantic grief informs the choices he makes as a parent: from hiding raven and then refusing to talk about her with yang, to shutting down when he lost summer and letting his five-year-old pick up the pieces, to discovering and then keeping summer’s secrets for the sake of some faint hope that she might finally come back to him.

cogent with the Dead (Absent) Mother / Neglectful Father / Evil Stepmother fairytale paradigm rwby deconstructs with raven, tai, and summer; the father chooses the stepmother over his children.

raises the emotional stakes of the war for summer through direct confrontation with the life she left behind, creating narrative opportunities to develop her character (is she still in love with tai? how does she feel about being his first priority, over their children? does she resent that he has her on this pedestal even now?) and apply pressure to her relationships with salem and cinder (do they know? is summer keeping her communication with him a secret, too? or is he an “asset” she’s using for salem’s benefit?).

consequently, raises the momentum of the narrative toward negotiation with salem; tai still has the coalition’s trust, however strained his personal relationships may be. summer is the obvious ambassador for salem’s side of the war, but she’s also the traitor who needs someone to vouch for her good intentions.

the secrecy needs no explanation: just as summer’s last mission was a summer secret, tai’s "assignment" is a taiyang secret and the girls know everything that oz and qrow do, because all of them have been left in the dark. raven might know, and she has the means to find if she doesn’t, but tai’s whereabouts are entangled with what raven knows about summer, so she can’t explain where tai is or why until she reveals her deep dark secrets about what happened between her and summer that night.

foreshadowing is solid: tai starts to go on "missions" again in v2, after the inner circle becomes aware that salem has infiltrated beacon and just before the breach downtown. when ruby visits summer’s grave in v3, she says "[dad] told me he’s going to be on some mission soon! i think he misses adventuring with you." he’s got to "look after some things" (but he isn’t talking about yang, because he stays home after she leaves). and then with B4 we have ruby echoing what the blacksmith taught her about summer in relation to tai, "maybe we don’t have the full picture?"

juicy

cons:

???

dependent on the unconfirmed theory that summer is working for salem as herself, not some unrecognizable enslaved monster, but i am as confident in that as i was about salem going to vale next and we all know how that turned out :)

taking their mom was not enough salem had to go for the full set APPARENTLY

option 5: secret fifth thing

pros:

???

cons:

???

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thepeacefulgarden · 3 days

Text

Promises you must make to yourself (and keep) when it's time to detach with love

I will stop trying to control anyone but myself.

I will set boundaries with this person, and I will not rescind those boundaries.

I will make those boundaries clear.

I will not give in to temper tantrums, threats, tears, bargaining, guilt trips, or other manipulative tactics. Instead, I will walk away.

I will stop doing things for them that they are capable of doing for themselves, and should be doing for themselves.

I will stop "loaning" them money I know I'm never going to get back.

I will let them be responsible for their own lives, and their own choices, and I will take responsibility for mine.

If it's necessary, I will remove myself and any children and/or pets from the household, and I will get us to safety.

I will prioritize my safety and well-being, and the safety and well-being of any children or pets.

I will not cover and lie for this person anymore.

I will no longer defend or make excuses for their unacceptable behavior.

I will prioritize my needs over their wants.

I will know that I am doing this because I love them and care about them, and I will absolve myself of guilt.

I will cultivate a support system of my own.

I will absolve myself of responsibility for their happiness, their life choices, their behavior, their words, and their responsibilities.

I will regulate my emotions when they try to dysregulate me. I will not lose my cool, no matter how much they agitate me.

If I cannot deescalate them, I will walk away.

I will absolve myself of responsibility for their feelings. I will let them be mad. Or sad. Or whatever else.

I will not bail them out of legal trouble.

I will not bail them out of any other kind of trouble or crisis.

I will no longer give this person second, third, fourth, fifth, hundredth chances they don't deserve.

I will accept that the situation is what it is, and I will stop trying to minimize or deny how bad it is.

I will accept that I cannot change or control them, and I will stop trying to do so.

I will find a sense of meaning, identity, and purpose outside of my relationship with them, or feeling "needed" or "wanted" by them, or anyone else.

I will let them face the consequences of their behavior, and I will absolve myself of responsibility for those consequences.

I will know and understand that I have done my best, and I cannot help someone who won't help themselves.

I will know that, no matter how much they may protest otherwise, I am not being selfish.

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mbruben-stein · 2 days

Note

OMG ITS ME AGAIN

Sorry I forgot it I said it or not but I requested a reaction/headcanon of Tokyo revengers boys ! 🫶

(It was their reaction to their high achiever nd burnt out s/o coping w their stress by clinging to them!)

Tokyo revengers boys with high active s/o, and when s/o gets burnt out their s/o's cupping method is clinging to them.

Mikey:

Mikey, being the charismatic and caring leader that he is, always supports his high-energy significant other in any way he can. He loves seeing them happy and full of life, but he also understands that everyone needs a break sometimes. So, when his s/o inevitably gets burnt out from all their activities and responsibilities, Mikey is there to help them recharge.

When his s/o reaches their limit and starts feeling overwhelmed, their go-to method of coping is to cling to Mikey. They find comfort and solace in his presence, feeling safe and secure in his arms. Mikey, being the understanding and loving partner that he is, welcomes them with open arms. He holds them close, providing a sense of warmth and reassurance that everything will be okay.

Mikey knows that sometimes all his s/o needs is a moment of peace and quiet, away from the chaos of their busy lives. So he makes sure to create a calming atmosphere for them, whether it's by simply sitting together in silence or watching their favorite movie. He listens attentively to their thoughts and feelings, offering words of encouragement and support.

As they cling to each other, Mikey's s/o feels a sense of relief and relaxation wash over them. They feel recharged and ready to face the world once again, knowing that they have Mikey by their side. With his unwavering love and support, they know that they can overcome any obstacle together. And in those moments of vulnerability, they find strength in each other's embrace.

Daken:

Draken is initially taken aback by his s/o's high energy levels, but he soon finds himself drawn to their vibrant personality. He admires their passion and drive, and he enjoys the excitement they bring into his life. However, he also notices when they start to burn out from pushing themselves too hard.

When his s/o reaches their breaking point and starts to feel overwhelmed, Draken is quick to notice the signs. He can see the exhaustion in their eyes and the way they start to withdraw from their usual activities. Instead of pushing them to keep going, he understands the importance of giving them space to rest and recharge.

As his s/o clings to him for comfort during these moments of burnout, Draken's protective instincts kick in. He wraps his arms around them, providing a sense of safety and security. He may not be the most affectionate person, but in times like these, he shows his love through actions rather than words.

Draken makes sure his s/o knows they can rely on him for support, both physically and emotionally. He may not always know the right thing to say, but his presence alone is enough to bring a sense of calm to his s/o. He stays by their side, offering a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear whenever they need it.

In these moments of vulnerability, Draken proves that he is not just a tough and intimidating figure. He shows his s/o that he is capable of being gentle and caring, willing to do whatever it takes to help them through their struggles. And as his s/o clings to him for comfort, he holds them close, silently promising to always be there for them no matter what.

Takemichi:

Takemichi is always seen as the weak crybaby hero, but when it comes to his significant other, he becomes a pillar of strength. His high energy partner always keeps him on his toes, pushing him to be more confident and determined. But when they inevitably hit a wall and burn out, it's Takemichi's turn to take care of them.

When his s/o is feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, their usual cupping method is to cling to Takemichi. They find solace in his presence, feeling comforted and protected by his unwavering support. Takemichi, despite his own insecurities and low self-esteem, becomes a source of stability for his partner during their vulnerable moments.

He holds them close, offering a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear for their worries. Takemichi may not have all the answers, but his presence alone is enough to make his s/o feel safe and loved. He may not be the strongest or most confident person, but his empathy and kindness shine through when his partner needs it most.

In those moments of vulnerability, Takemichi proves that he is not just a crybaby hero, but a compassionate and caring partner who will always be there to support his s/o through thick and thin.

Mitsuya:

Mitsuya is a calm and level-headed person, but when it comes to his high-energy significant other, he finds himself constantly on his toes. His partner's enthusiasm and zest for life always keep him on his toes, but he wouldn't have it any other way. However, there are times when his s/o's high energy can lead to burnout, leaving them feeling drained and exhausted.

When his s/o reaches this point, Mitsuya is always there to support them. He notices the signs of burnout before they even realize it themselves. As soon as he sees his partner struggling, he gently encourages them to take a break and relax. Mitsuya knows just how important it is to take care of oneself, and he wants nothing more than to see his s/o happy and healthy.

As his s/o clings to him for comfort and support, Mitsuya wraps his arms around them in a warm and reassuring embrace. He holds them close, offering a sense of security and calmness. Mitsuya knows that sometimes all his partner needs is a shoulder to lean on, and he is more than happy to be that support for them.

Together, they find solace in each other's presence, finding comfort in the silence and the warmth of their embrace. Mitsuya's calm and loving nature is exactly what his s/o needs in moments of exhaustion and burnout. And with him by their side, they know that they can overcome any obstacle that comes their way.

Kazutora:

Kazutora may seem like a rough and tough guy on the outside, but when it comes to his significant other, he's surprisingly gentle and caring. His s/o is a high-energy individual, always on the go and rarely taking a break. However, there are times when even the most energetic person can get burnt out. When this happens to his s/o, their preferred method of comfort is to cling to Kazutora.

At first, Kazutora may be a bit taken aback by the sudden need for physical closeness, but he quickly adjusts and wraps his arms around his s/o, providing a strong and comforting presence. He may not be the best at expressing his feelings verbally, but his actions speak volumes as he holds his s/o close, offering silent support and understanding.

As his s/o relaxes into his embrace, Kazutora's own tension begins to melt away. He finds solace in being able to provide comfort to his loved one, knowing that he is a source of strength for them in their time of need. The quiet moments spent together in each other's arms help to recharge both of their spirits, strengthening their bond and deepening their connection.

Through this simple act of clinging to him, Kazutora and his s/o find a sense of peace and reassurance in each other's presence. It is in these moments of vulnerability and intimacy that their love for one another shines brightest, proving that even the toughest of individuals can have a soft and caring heart.

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justanamesstuff · 2 days

Text

Sweeter than honey - Hozier x f!reader

A/N: sorry not sorry if this is the most cliché thing about Andy but couldn't help my self. This fic is a statement to say this man deserves more stories under his name <33 love you forest daddy (hope you never reads this haha) Warnings: FLUFF, typos Words count: 0.7 k

The short path from Andrew’s house to the –no so small — patch of his land, destined to his bees, felt like it took ages to walk down. She felt her stomach turn due to anxiety thinking about the task in hand. Y/n had been stung by a bee during her childhood, traumatizing her enough so the pain, the fear, remained for years and years. The woman damned herself for being in love with the biggest beekeeper around town.

Her sight fell on Andrew’s back, watching him walk with so much excitement, she couldn’t reciprocate. The man had been trying for the longest time to convince his girlfriend to meet his bees, being the offer declined time and time again. Until Y/n felt guilty enough and finally said yes. She would never forget the bright smile he gifted her when Y/n timidly asked about the process and she could join him during his next visit.

As if he could sense her eyes on him, Andrew turned around still walking not wasting any minute, scared about Y/n changing her mind.

“Baby?” his smile fell a little.

“If one of them sting me…” she warned him, still scared of the situation.

Andrew stopped in his tracks, worried about his girlfriend once more. The man grabbed her hand on his, sharing some warmth, wishing it could take away her fear.

Searching for her eyes, he continued, “trust me, okay?”

Y/n couldn’t help to push her feet down on the earth like a little child throwing a tantrum. The act made her boyfriend laugh.

“Baby…” she wanted to wipe his amusement away.

“Stop making fun of me. This is serious for me, Andy.”

He moved closer and closer, rounding her with his big arms.

Y/n felt his breath on her hair line, “I know, I know. Everything will be okay, I wouldn’t let you get hurt, baby. I promise.” Andrew ended his sentence leaving a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay, let's do this.” she moved backwards, giving him a stronger look than before, trying to let him know she was ready.

Hand in hand, they approached the colonies.

……………………………………..

In the end, Y/n had fun with Andrew and his bees. He showed her the day-to-day work, the progress of each colony, and even she saw a queen from up close, which excited her the most. She did fell scared during the first movements when he was worried about a box falling apart and all his attention was in transferring the colony to their new home.

Even though after that short moment, her boyfriend was focused on making her fell comfortable around his little friends. It was even ironic how gentle the bees were, just as Andy, making her fell quickly in love with them.

Y/n watched him too his special outfit, trying to comb his long hair, and like a little excited girl she started talking.

“So, when do we come back?”

Andrew chuckled.

“Someone is not scared any more, huh?” he teased her, combing his hair back into his signature bun.

Y/n felt too seen by her boyfriend, “Well, I-”

“We can return tomorrow, if you want…” Andrew offered, taking her face between his big hands.

“Really?”

“Yes, baby. Whatever you want.”

“I would love to!” she answered, looking into his soft eyes.

“Me too.” he left a kick kiss on her lips, feeling her relax into his embrace.

Y/n was the first one to push back, “I can’t wait to see them again.”

Andrew, amazed by her changed of attitude towards the bees, faked a frown.

“I’m starting to believe you prefer them over me.”

“Hundred percent yes!” Y/n joined the joke, whispering her answer before covering her mouth quickly with her hand. “Never, my love.”

The singer laughed at her antics, leaning down to kiss her once more.

Without many more words, Andrew and Y/n walked in silence towards his house when an intrusive though crossed Y/n’s head.

“Would you name a queen after me?”

Andy stayed silence.

“Andy?”

Still no answer.

“Don’t tell me…” Y/n turned to witness a very red-faced Andrew. “Stop it! You’re too sweet to be true, honey!” she exclaimed, making her best effort to kiss his blushed cheeks.

#hozier #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #andrew hozier byrne

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mcflymemes · 1 day

Text

THE EMPEROR'S NEW GROOVE (2000) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

how shall i do it?

oh, is that hard to believe?

is this really the best you could do?

check out this piece of work.

i'm here because i received a summons.

word on the street is you can fix my problem.

the drinks were a bit on the warm side.

okay, i admit it. maybe i wasn’t as nice as i should have been.

do you really want to kill me?

so is everything ready for tonight?

i thought we’d start off with a soup and a light salad, and then see how we feel after that.

we’re about to go over a huge waterfall.

bring it on.

you got all that, honey?

what about dinner?

all right. a quick cup of coffee.

but what does that have to do with anything?

you’re sort of confusing me.

how did you get back here before us?

by all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.

i never liked your spinach puffs.

ah. should have seen that coming.

you know what, you could have told me that before i set it up.

now you stop being hard on yourself. all is forgiven.

it’s not the first time i was tossed out of a window, and it won’t be the last.

what can i say? i’m a rebel.

i can’t believe this is happening!

break the door down!

are you kidding me? this is hand-carved mahogany.

so you lied to me.

couldn’t pull the wool over your eyes, huh.

why did i risk my life for a selfish brat like you?

i was always taught that there was some good in everyone, but, oh, you proved me wrong.

now i feel really bad.

you threw off my groove!

he didn’t pay his check.

this had better be good!

this is the last time we take directions from a squirrel.

yeah, like that would ever happen.

will you take a look at this?

oh, is that hard to believe?

just thought i’d give you a heads up.

what do you mean the door’s stuck? try jiggling the handle.

you’re the criminal mastermind here, not me.

just leave me alone.

it’s my birthday gift to me. i’m so happy.

hey, it doesn’t always have to be about you.

uh, he doesn’t really wanna talk to you.

hey, did you see that sky today? talk about blue.

don’t drink the wine.

our moment of triumph approaches!

oh, he’s doing his own theme music.

i’m so glad i was unconscious for all of this.

you’re not just gonna let him die like that, are you?

don’t listen to that guy.

if it were me, i’d march right back there and demand to see him.

you just saved my life!

believe it or not, i think i need a bath.

maybe i’m just new to this whole rescuing thing, but this, to me, might be considered kind of a step backwards.

i ate a bug today!

what is this guy babbling about?

i’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by.

i gotta go wash something.

anything sounds bad when you say it with that attitude.

let me guess, you have a great personality.

thanks for going back on your promise!

how long has that been there?

someday you’re gonna wind up all alone, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

hmm. don’t know, don’t care. how’s that?

for the last time, it was not a kiss.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #mcflymemes #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #the emperors new groove

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goosewriting · 1 day

Text

One last chance III

summary: third and final part to one last chance! the long awaited reunion :3

relationship: Rise!Leo x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of blood

word count: 3.1k

A/N: at long last, here it is! since there’s a bunch of hopping between worlds, i added clarifications for when the story changes into another timeline (NY: new york aka main timeline / KR: krangpocalypse timeline / TR: triceraton world). that way you can differentiate if there’s an actual change of place or if it’s just a time skip! i really hope you like it :’)

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (you’re here!)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

The very next day, Leo and you gathered the other turtle brothers and Casey at the dinner table to tell them your plan. Mikey would have to open two more portals; one to get the older Leo from Casey’s timeline, and one portal to go place him in the Triceraton world with the other older you.

You two watched as everyone processed your words, displaying different emotions in their faces. Your gaze fell on Mikey, who furrowed is brows, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I don’t know if I have it in me,” the youngest turtle admitted. Raph placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It does sound dangerous,” the eldest said.

“I don’t even know how to find those dimensions again,” Mikey added.

“Just do the same thing you were doing last time,” you offered. “What were you thinking about when Leo fell through?”

Mikey scratched his chin as he thought it over.

“I don’t know, dino nuggets?”

“Makes sense,” Leo said with a serious nod. You playfully rolled your eyes.

“How will you find my timeline, though?” asked Casey.

“With you, actually,” Donnie chimed in, bringing his hands in front of him with touching fingertips. “Your quantum signature should be unique enough to pinpoint it. I’ll build something to amplify Mikey’s powers.”

“Sounds like we have a plan, then,” Leo concluded, placing his hands on the table and standing up. “Let’s get started.”

– – –

Mikey trained with smaller things first, making portals from one room to the other, and catching things mid-air and safely placing them on the ground. Meanwhile, you and Leo prepared a place where older Leo could stay. One portal already took a lot of effort; you didn’t really want to overexert Mikey and have him make two big ones, one right after the other. Also, future Leo might be hurt, so Raph helped you gather supplies for a little first aid kit as well.

The night before the big day, when Mikey would open the first portal, you were way too excited to sleep. You looked over at Leo, both of you in his bed, and it seemed he wasn’t feeling much differently, nervously tapping his fingers on his chest.

“It’s gonna work, right?” he asked in a low voice.

“I think so, yeah,” you replied genuinely.

“Do you think I- he’ll be… mad?” You propped yourself up on your elbow at his question.

“You’re asking me? Shouldn’t you know better than anyone?”

“Iunno,” he mumbled, and you gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Well... If everyone you knew were gone, and you had the chance to spend more time with them, even if they’re technically a different version from another dimension, wouldn’t you want to see them?”

He thought it over for a moment.

“I think so, yeah,” he replied.

“I know I’d want it too.”

For a moment, you two just looked at each other in the dim light of his room, then a giggle escaped you.

“What?” he asked with a suspicious smile. You sighed, lying back down properly and cuddling into his side.

“It’s like a tragic love story. Two star crossed lovers, promising to find each other in any universe.”

Leo took your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“I’d look for you in every universe,” he whispered. You hid face in the pillow with a groan.

“You’re so corny,” you laughed.

“And you love me for it.”

“Hmm, I do,” you said, stretching your neck to place a kiss on his cheek, then went back to getting comfortable.

Finally feeling a little more at ease, sleep slowly started to take over.

“I just hope he’s… still there,” Leo said so lowly you almost missed it. “The way Casey described the future, it was super bleak. I hope nothing happened to–”

“Shush,” you interrupted him, hugging his torso to reassure him. “It will work, I know it.”

“Hmm, yeah. It’ll work.”

With that, you both drifted off to sleep.

– – – [NY]

Donnie had built a hollow box of sorts, big enough to stand in it, with two wires coming out of either side. He put it on the floor, told Casey to step into it, and he activated it with his own nimpo, one wire connecting to Mikey, one to Donnie. The rest of you held onto Mikey’s arms like last time.

“It’s go time,” Donnie said with a wicked smile of sorts as the device started glowing.

– – – [KR]

Leo tried to hold back a pained groan between his pants. He looked at his leg; that’s a lot of blood. That krangified creature had got him good.

He tried getting back to his feet, but his leg gave out under him, and he was back on the ground, leaning onto the broken pieces of what used to be a building, sticking out from the dark sand that had taken over everything, transforming the urban landscape into a wasteland.

This is it, he thought, and bitterly smiled to himself. I’ve had a good run. Wish I had done some things differently, but…

Images of you flooded his mind, his brothers, Splinter, April, Casey… Ah, he really hoped the boy made it.

A growling noise tore him out of his thoughts, and he saw the creature that had got him in this situation in the first place, approaching him slowly, about to pounce. With a deep exhale, Leo accepted his fate, finding no more fight left in him. He looked at the handle of his sword, now donning three coloured bands.

“Just get it over with!” he called out to the creature. Just as it was crouching down to build up its energy to jump, there was an all too familiar sizzling sound between him and the creature.

Leo tiredly opened his eyes, and his brows rose in disbelief at what he was seeing. It was one of Mikey’s portals, moving towards him.

“What the—”

He got swept through the portal like a fish getting caught by a landing net. Gone was the coarse sand under him, replaced by something soft and warm and inviting. In front of him, figures he fully believed he’d never get to see again: his brothers, all alive; his younger self, looking at him with the same shock; Casey, and… you.

Mikey collapsed on the ground with a grunt. Raph picked him up and Donnie took them to his lab. Casey stepped out from his little box, which had deactivated the moment the portal disappeared.

“M-master Leonardo?” the boy asked in a mix of disbelief, surprise, and happiness.

“Casey Junior,” the older Leo greeted him with a tired grin. “You made it.”

“Found the key, stopped the Krang,” Casey replied with the instructions his master had made him repeat back then. As his eyes started welling up with tears, Casey ran up to Leo and hugged him, which earned a groan of pain from the older turtle, but it turned into a chuckle. He hugged him back to the best of his abilities.

That’s when you noticed the turtle’s leg.

“O-oh my goodness, that looks very much not good,” you exclaimed, pointing at the wound covered in blood and debris.

“Yeesh,” younger Leo cringed after following your eyes.

You got to work cleaning up his wounds, disinfecting, and bandaging everything up. Older Leo was too exhausted to protest.

As the three of you were cleaning the grime off of hte turtle with a wet rag, you came to his right shoulder, and what you had thought was a giant glove, slid off slightly. So you took it off to be able to clean him better, except that instead of sliding the garment off his arm, the whole thing came off, leaving only a stubble reaching to just above where his elbow would be. Leo audibly gasped behind you.

“I- you- what happened to your arm?” Leo asked, turning to the boy on the patient’s other side. “Casey, you didn’t tell me I lost a whole arm!”

“There’s a lot I didn’t tell you, and it was for a reason–”

“Guys,” the older turtle interrupted.

Everyone got their attention back to the man on the pile of blankets.

“As much as I’m glad that you’re all okay, what am I doing here?” he questioned, his eyes jumping from Casey, to Leo, to you.

“Don’t worry about it, just rest up,” Casey instructed.

“Yeah, we have a plan,” you added with a smile. “Just… get your energy back. We’ll explain everything later.”

He was too tired to argue, so he just let himself drift off into the welcoming embrace of sleep, and with a deep exhale, he passed out on the spot.

“Casey, stay with him,” you told the boy. “We’ll check on Mikey.”

With a nod you instructed Leo to follow you, and you went to the lab, where you found Mikey on a makeshift cot. He was fine, also napping. Donnie assured you he just needed some rest.

You all took turns for the next several hours to watch over the two; you caught pieces of conversations here and there, depending on whether older Leo was awake and whose turn it was to keep him company. But you tried not to eavesdrop, as you were sure he was telling them important but personal things. The one you were very curious about was the conversation older Leo had with Splinter. It seemed to be very emotional, but you kept your distance to give them some privacy. The boys’ father retired to his room for most of the day after they talked.

When it was your turn to take care of Leo, you brought some food and a change of bandages for his legs.

“No one’s told me yet what’s going on,” he said after you handed him his food. “They told me it was your idea?”

You were kneeling next to him, and squirmed a little in your seat.

“Are you sure you want to know now?” you asked, your gaze falling to your lap. “Don’t you want to recover a little more? You’re still in pretty rough shape–”

Leo interrupted you by calling your name. Your eyes darted back up to him and he raised a brow at you as he took a bite of the sandwich. You smiled to yourself. Some things really never change; that’s the same look young Leo would have given you in this situation.

With a sigh of defeat, you told him how after you had had your encounter in the alleyway, your timeline’s Leo had a similar one with an alternate older version of yourself, in a world where a different alien species had invaded Earth, but they were at peace now. Their Leo had died in the process, though.

“So,” you concluded after your retelling. “Leo and I, I mean my Leo, I mean…” You couldn’t help the heat creeping up to your cheeks, and the turtle gave you a knowing smirk. “Me and this world’s Leo; we thought we could help you guys out. You were left alone in a world that had no hope of being saved. And my other self is in a world worth living in, but is missing you. So, you know. 1+1=2 and here you are.”

Older Leo seemed genuinely surprised by your words. Whatever it was he had expected, this was not it.

“I mean, you’re also free to stay here if you want to,” you offered, pointing over your shoulder. “There’s already Casey, so… I’m sure he’d like it if you stayed.”

“No can do,” Leo said with a sad smile, and you frowned. “I don’t really like the idea of playing with the timelines; my Donnie would have been vehemently against it.” He smiled nostalgically as he looked to the side for a second, then brought his attention back to you. “But in the end, he probably would have come to a similar conclusion. It’s obvious I’m not gonna ask you to bring me back to my timeline…. You were right on time, you know? A moment later and I would have been a goner.”

You gave him a worried look, but he dismissed it with a gesture of his hand.

“But,” he continued. “This isn’t my place to stay, either. I’ll take you up on your offer.” You perked up at that. “A different world at peace sounds pretty nice right about now.”

“From what Leo told me, everyone else seems to be alive there, you know,” you told him as you took out a fresh roll of gauzes from the supply box. “Raph, Mikey and Donnie. I’m sure they all miss you.”

Leo smiled, taking another bite of his sandwich as you started working on his leg.

“And I miss them.”

“And I know it’s not the same because you won’t have the same memories and stuff–”

“Hey. It’s okay,” he calmed your doubts, holding your hand. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

You merely gave him a nod, your heart racing at the gesture. His hand was so big, his whole presence made you feel so safe; you couldn’t wait to see your Leo keep growing and become the man you had in front of you now.

Not long after, when Mikey started feeling better, you all started preparing Leo’s departure.

– – – [TR]

You were taking your evening stroll through the park as you’d usually do. It had been raining all day though, and the cool wind seemed to make the droplets seep further into your clothes. As per usual, your feet brought you to the memorial statue by themselves, like they always did when you were lost in thought.

Your grip tightened around your umbrella. It’s been so many years. Maybe it was time to finally let go. This grief was getting you nowhere. Leo wouldn’t want you to waste away like this just because he wasn’t there.

Standing in front of the statue, you let your eyes wander over it, looking at all the little details, discovering some new cracks in the rock. You did your best to keep it clean and all, but time, wind and rain seemed to chip away at it, no matter your efforts. Kind of like you felt, too, you concluded with a defeated sigh.

Bringing your gaze back to the turtle’s heroic face expression, you tilted your head lightly. Just what were you supposed to do now?

– – – [NY]

Everyone got into position just like for the other portal, but you stayed back this time. You were facing away from where the yellow ring of light would open, as you didn’t want to see your older self.

“You sure you don’t want to see?” Leo asked. “The dinos looked pretty cool?” You chuckled.

“Nah, it’s okay,” you answered, looking up at him with a smile. “I don’t need to see other worlds, I have everything I need right here.”

You placed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. The turtle wasn’t able to reciprocate, but blushed as he spotted his older self a couple of steps away, giving him a thumbs up.

– – – [TR]

You took one last look at the statue, some droplets hitting your face in the wind, which was starting to pick up. Just as you meant to turn around to leave, you heard some zaps behind you.

Just like last time, a flurry of yellow lights materialised out of nowhere over the gravel path of the park, expanding and clearing up until you could see through it. Young Leo hopped into your world, calling out to you with relief, as it meant he didn’t have to go look for you.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” he said as he jogged the short distance to where you stood.

“Wha- You’re back?” You were shocked to your bones, as you really thought you would never get to see any Leo ever again. “Why? How?”

“Doesn’t matter, I won’t be long either,” Leo informed you, taking your hand that you had stretched out to him. “I just came to say hi and bring you a gift.”

He let go and stepped aside. From behind him, another figure stepped through the portal. Your hand came to your mouth as you gasped, your umbrella dropping to the ground.

Mikey groaned from the effort, the glowing yellow cracks expanding further over his arms.

“Hurry it up, guys!” Raph called from the other side of the portal. “Mikey can’t hold it open much longer!”

Turning to you, younger Leo held your hands one last time, and you dragged your eyes from one blue clad turtle to the younger one.

“Give him the happy ending you both deserved, alright?” he asked, and giving you and older Leo one last hug, he hurried back to the portal, which started becoming more unstable by the second, the zaps threatening to collapse any moment now.

And not a second too soon, younger Leo left the scene, the portal closing right behind him with a loud crackle.

Leo and you were left alone in the rain, looking at each other and just taking each other in.

“Hey,” Leo spoke first, taking a couple of steps in your direction.

“... Hi,“ you greeted him, your voice almost inaudible, as you looked him up and down repeatedly in disbelief.

“The kids had a crazy idea and… it worked.”

You let out a shuddering breath, looking at your hands, opening and closing them in an attempt to ground yourself.

“What timeline are you from?” you finally asked. Leo had to take a moment to think how to even answer that.

“The bad ending, I guess?” he settled on. “One where the world ended. I lost everything.”

He looked up at the statue of himself and smiled.

“This one didn’t lose an arm though, huh.”

His attempt at lightening the mood was short-lived, as the small smile that had formed on your face disappeared just as quickly.

“No, but he lost everything, too,” you said, your hands clenching into fists as you dragged your eyes back up to meet his warm ones.

“You think I can fill the vacant spot he left open for this world’s coolest Leonardo?”

You couldn’t help but snort this time.

“Yeah,” you offered, relaxing visibly. “I think he’d be okay with that.”

Leo finally approached you, carefully stroking over your cheek with the back of his hand, and you leaned into the touch. The rain hitting your face mixed with your tears.

“Okaerinasai,” you welcomed him back home as you placed your hand over his. He leaned down to touch his forehead to yours.

“Tadaima.”

— — —

Bonus:

“You think they’ll be okay?” you asked Leo after the portal closed.

“You said it yourself,” he said, placing his arm over your shoulder. “Star crossed lovers: they’ll always find back to each other because they belong together.”

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @theoriginalmintyyyshake, @DyByNyght, @Lieutenantlashfaz, @galaxtic-writings, @Lovestruckfictionadict, @salty-s-r, @sleebykei, @miso-sopas, @duckanon, @wings-of-sapphire, @ashtheboookworm2, @xxnoxx, @crystal-crax, @lunaramune

also tagging the people in the comments in the second part who wanted to see a reunion! feel free to ignore 🙈

@koalaray, @catr4dora, @mialettt, @flowerloves, @franbowidk, @warrior-girl, @nessarolla-in-constant-flux, @crystal-crax, @kitkattzz

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt leo x reader #leonardo x reader #rise leo x reader

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vulpixisananimal · 2 days

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Looping again and again...

(You breath in, and out.)

(You're exhausted. You feel even more sick than last time. Your eyes are puffy, and theres a weight on your chest.)

(You breath in, and out.)

(Just, just focus. Just focus. None of that happened, not really. It was all in another timeline, you didn't hurt him, and you aren't selfish. You... You...)

("I should never have trusted you.")

(. . .)

(You trust them. But they don't trust you. If they don't trust you, why do you keep talking to them.)

(Because it's. . . Because I promised.)

(You promised to protect Bonnie too.)

(Your breath catches.)

(Are you sure they believe you, or like you, or trust you? Can you be sure? You have a power that they cannot comprehend. Every day could be perfectly scripted by you.)

(I. . . I don't know.)

(Do you think Isabeau trusts you.)

(I. . .)

"You alright, Sif?"

(Oh stars, right. You breath in, and out.)

"Never better, Isa!" (You said, your words ringing hollow.)

"Well, if you need a hand or, or if I need to get you anything, just let me know okay?"

(Same as last time. You are looping again, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror. Could it get worse..?)

(You step out of the bathroom.)

"Sif! Are you sure you're alright?" (He leaned down to your level, just as worried as before.) "I was about to get out of bed and I heard you, uh-"

"I'm fine Isabeau--" >> "--Just some loopy stuff, not that bad, I'll meet you for breakfast!"

(. . . Should you be zoning out? Things are differen't now, you're not in Dormont after all.)

(It wont hurt them.)

(You're back downstairs, Mirabelle and Bonnie off doing whatever it was they do in the morning. The quesadillas looked good like last time. Hmm, you could change a few things up here at least.)

"You sure you're alright? Can't go investigating when your sick."

"I've gone through worse." (You say cheekily.)

"That's not a good thing though!" (Isa exlaimed.) "You were sick for weeks after all those loops!"

"Still hard to believe." (Nille commented, leaning back.) "Even I know you're not s'possed to be able to craft time."

"Well I didn't think wishes were so..."

"Dangerous?" (You say.)

"Well, yeah." (Isa's vision wandered, thinking.) ". . . Do you think that's why you're sick again?"

(Huh.)

(Odile looked up from her book.) "That could be it. Perhaps that wish is still allowing Siffrin to loop back, but requires more of his own energy."

"So it's, craft exhaustion?" (That would make sense, and explain why each time you looped you were feeling worse.)

"Alright eat up then 'Frin." (Nille said, leaning over to give you a second quesadilla.) "Gotta get your energy back."

(You shrink down into your cloak.) "I'll be fine, you don't, need, to."

"Come on Sif!" (Now Isa was handing you more food.) "Craft exhaustion 101! Eat! Your! Food!"

(Oh stars. . .)

(Defeated, you start to eat up. It WAS good food, Bonnie always made good food. And you WERE hungry. Plus, you might need the energy to loop again. And if you do that, then you wouldn't have taken their food.)

(Mirabelle and Bonnie join the rest of you, the air is a bit warmer than last time. Bonnie threatened to go back and make you even more food once they found out you had craft exhaustion. But for now, it's about time to explain things again.)

(You're going to? You still trust them?)

(. . . If we don't, it could be worse. We didn't ask for help before, and it was worse.)

"Isa, did you know someone called Ramos in the Defenders?"

"Huh?" (Isa thought for a moment.) "I didn't. . . Oh! Well I knew someone who's second name was that, why?"

"Taller? Wears a vest and kerchif? Short hair?"

(Isa shook his head.) "No, but I remember they asked me about some clothes like that... Wait did you-"

(You smile smugly.) "You must have had quite the impact, they look totaly different when we met them later today."

"You looped again!?!?--" >> "--I'll look for one of those next time."

(Where to start this time.)

"This will be try number three of today, First time me and Odile went to the library and the rest of you to the Defenders place, Bonnie came running to us, aparently Mira was framed for kidnapping Bonnie."

"!?!?!?--" >> "--There must have been some kind of mistake!"

"And that's why we went there last time." (You hesitate) "We all did, met Ramos at the enterance, started leading us to someone who'd help. Mira, Bonnie and Nilla ran off because of..."

(. . . Roses.)

"Huh?!?"

"Beacuse Bonnie smelled mint and thought someone's roses were in trouble?"

"It makes more sense at the moment I promise!"

"Well there was someone who kept roses." (Isa pondered.) "But he was never the type to get mints in his rosebeds."

"Well aparently Bonnie smelled mint, so."

"Was it like the sugar?" (Bonnie asked.) "Like, is it a craft thing?"

(You blink, oh.) "Well, uh, I did smell a lot of something."

(Bonnie hopped away from the tapple and ran back to the kitchen. Before coming back with a bit of a plant and held it up to you.) "Smell."

(You take a sniff, the same smell.) ". . . Is that mint?"

"Duh." (They said smugly.) "No it's cumin, obviously. Crabface."

"Language."

(You all have a bit of a chuckle. Bonnie going to put the mint back. Odile prompted you to continue.)

"Right..." (You shift a bit in your seat, oh boy.) "Well... Isa, did you get any help on your Defender quiz? Did Ramos help you?"

"Huh? No I didn't," (he looked confused.) "I did worry about it a bunch, but Ramos was having it harder, if anything I helped them."

(You nod.) "While we were walking you said the oposite, you knew eachother for a while, it all seemed... Wrong."

(You paused, thinking. Odile noticed.) "Everything alright, Siffrin?"

(You bite your lip. You, didn't want to talk about what happens next.) "Well. . . You and I got suspicious, confronted Ramos, you grabbed them and then started being weird, and uh, well, I stepped in and, well, they were wearing the star pendant."

"!!!"

"Gems alive."

"Oh Ramos.." (Isabeau pouted.) "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

(You snapped to attention, huh? What?) "I-I, n-no they, uh, no they didn't." (If anything, it was the other way around...)

"Well... If you want to talk about it."

(You shrug.)

". . . Well what's the plan today then boss." (Nille asked, looking over she was leaning on the table so relaxed.) "Since you know the future and all."

(Boss?) "Well, I doubt this'll be the last loop, but this time we should go looking for information on what craft links to mint, if any."

"Good idea Siffrin!" (Mirabelle perked up, uhoh, she had a look in her eyes.) "Me, Odile and Isabeau will go looking for that while YOU stay here and relax!!"

"Huh?!?!"

"Agreed." (Odile was giving you a look.) "We can't have our ace in the hole burning himself out."

"That'll leave you two in charge of Siffrin then, think you can handle it?" (Isa said to Nille and Bonnie.)

(Nille gave a thumbs up) "Leave it to the sibling squad."

"Yeah!! I'm gonna make you hot chocolate too!!"

"What. Wait. But, b-but."

(You didn't know how to respond, what was going on, you were just, just explaining what happened. It was just going to be another go around. Go look for info on mint, then, then...) "Wh, why?!?"

"Because you need!! A!! Beak!!" (Mirabelle had gotten up) "You've had to do the same day twice now and each time it was really unplesant!! And if today doesn't really happen for us, then we can do a bit extra! The other us's wont remember."

"Exactly." (Odile closed her book.) "If today doesn't matter then we can be a bit risky, and you can relax a bit more. It might help you feel better for next loop."

(You tried hiding in your cloak, a hard thing to do without a hat.) "But, you just, trust me on that?"

"Of course!" (Isabeau said, cheery.) "Why wouldn't we? I'll always trust you, Sif, because you could have done a lot of bad with being able to loop, and you didn't!" (You wince at that, Isa huffed.) "Yes, even that moment we had. I told you, it's alright."

(. . .)

(They do have a point. You, never really got a break back then either. Sure you had moments, but...)

"Ok, If you're sure..."

#Whats this??? I just posted an update yesterday!!!#I got #super excited #anyway here!! Sif has!! A!! Good!! Day!!!#isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #isat siffrin #isat odile #isat nille #isat mirabelle #isat isabeau #isat bonnie #isat art #isat au #siffrin system au #sifstem #isat fanfic #isat fanart

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dariwrites03 · 3 days

Text

Fucked up Monday. 2/3

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748615753776955392/fucked-up-monday

A/n: Before you guys kill me; I’m already writing part 3. don’t you worry it’s coming your way. Please comment & repost, it’s giving me much motivation!

Summary: After Ellie kissed you on Patrol, everything was turning weird, you’re full of guilt and other feelings... What happens when your life turns from agonizing to better to so much worse? And why exactly can a few letters change everything?

Warnings: none? I think?

Taglist: @bready101 @lia-winther @liciapeonia @darkerstarsstuff @patricks-fabulous-face ( I tagged some people from my comments, hope that’s alright)

-5700k words

„And I thought I was weird for feeling uncomfortable at that, you know? They broke up, it's not really his place to say anything like that especially after telling Dina he's over her anyways" You're best friend said, finishing up her explanation of yesterdays event with Dina and Jesse. He found the two of them smoking near a warehouse and from what you made out of Ellie's explanation, he wasn't too happy to see them sitting so close.

You and Ellie were having another movie night, those happen pretty often. ( Every Wednesday, to be exact.) sitting on the old sofa in your living room with you're legs resting on hers. „Well, it's still fresh. Don't think he's jealous of the two of you spending lots of time together but maybe it's just a weird feeling seeing her with someone else, though there's absolutely nothing between you and Dina" you replied, chuckling at the thought of Jesse being all jealous over nothing. You rested your head back against the many sofa pillows, enjoying the comfy half sitting half laying position you're in. „Yeah.. totally" Ellie mumbled, looking down at her hands resting on top of you ankles, shifting uncomfortably. Knowing Ellie probably better than anyone else, you knew right away that something seems off.

„Wait.." you said, sensing the weird vibe from you're best friend. „There is nothing between you two, right?" you said, lifting you're upper body into a more sitting posture. „Ellie?" you said her name as you're so called friend didn't answer right away. You felt you're heart stink, not really being sure of what's going on exactly. „uhm.. I don't wanna talk about it?" she said, looking at you with an apologetic look, making it sound more like a question than an real steady answer. „Hell no, remember our ‚no lying rule'?" you said. „Cmon we made that rule as we were 15, that's childish." she said while caressing through her hair, suddenly looking all exhausted. „It wasn't childish when I had my first kiss and didn't want to talk about it" You mentioned. Remembering the night you ran about 2 miles to Ellie's house after spending the afternoon with some other kids in the pub, playing some stupid games. After you kissed Sophia as you're truth or dare quest you took of running, straight into the arms of the brown haired girl who couldn't participate that nights event due to a cold. Ellie knew something must've happened and as you really didn't want to talk about it, embarrassed by the fact that everyone could probably tell you never kissed anyone ever before, Ellie set up a rule. *„Let's promise to always be honest, life is too fucked up to screw it up with lies"* you knew she was right and since that night you tried to always be honest to each other.

„Cmon that's totally different!" Ellie defended herself, crossing her arms above her chest. „Jesus, Williams, answer the fucking question and stop being difficult" you said with a light voice, feeling like Ellie was some deer that takes of running as soon as you're tone was slightly off. „I mean, there is nothing between me and Dina.. so" she explained and you could tell that She was satisfied with her answer since her shoulders became less tense. „But you wish there was?" you asked, not able to look at Ellie you decided to give you're hands something to do, grabbing the soda can you had standing infront of you at the table. „I.. yeah, I guess? Okay. Who am I kidding" she said, her hands running over her face. She revealed a slight laugh. „Oh god" she groaned, now fully blushing like a 13 year old teenager. „Yeah, yeah I do like her. Fuck, this is the first time admitting it out loud" she said.

You took a sip from you're soda, the carbonic acid being long gone since you opened the can almost 2 hours ago, giving you a second or two to continue to stay silent. Having the opportunity to ignore the trouble of you're mind right now

The Jealousy building up inside of you made you think like you're going all crazy, fighting against the urge to scream inside a pillow you took that energy elsewhere. „okay, good for you" you said, taking another sip from the drink, hoping to put out the fire building up in you're chest. Ellie looked at you saying „it's not weird, right? Falling for her?" you looked at her again, considering of telling her what you really think. You consider of telling her that's it's not weird, but you don't like it either. No , you hate it. You hate it so much because you want Ellie to fall for you instead of her.

But you didn't say that. Instead you betrayed your 15 year old self by lying to Ellie and yourself.

It's been three months, 4 days and 2,5 Hours without a word from her.

Ever since then , You are entangled in the delicate web of grief for what felt like for two people, where the threads of loss and longing weave intricate patterns within your heart. Two souls, distinct yet equally significant, find their place in the chambers of your being.

Dylan, now resting six feet under, has embarked on a journey beyond the veil. His earthly vessel lies cradled by the soil, while his essence pirouettes among the constellations. The wasteland of the unknown stretches before him—And then there's your best friend, a constellation of memories and shared secrets. But her presence has become elusive, slipping through your fingers like sand. She chooses silence—a withdrawal that echoes louder than any spoken words. And you tried. Oh, how you tried to get her to speak—the silent symphony of longing, the unspoken words that hung in the air like dew-kissed spider silk. Your gaze, a language of its own, whispered secrets that transcended mere sentences. But she? She met your offerings with silence—a void that echoed louder than any spoken syllable. She stopped coming over. The threshold of your space became a chasm, a bridge severed by unspoken truths. The door, once a portal to laughter and whispered confidences, now stood closed. The only ever time you got to see her, to give yourself the inner peace of her being okay, was on the weekly parol meetings. She attended, her presence a fragile thread connecting you both. But she mastered the art of departure—slipping away before your eyes could catch hers. The opposite direction became her refuge, a path untrodden by your footsteps.

Talking wasn't what Ellie needed. You sensed it, that unspoken ache in the air—the need for silence, for space. So you stepped back, honoring the boundaries she drew around her heart. But your longing couldnt be unoticed by you any longer so after three weeks, you started writing to her. Youre desperation spilled over, ink bleeding onto paper. You became a clandestine messenger, slipping perfumed notes into the small slit of her mailbox. Each letter carried a piece of your soul—a plea, a confession, a desperate whisper. It lingered on your fingertips, a bridge between worlds. And as you pressed those letters into the darkness, you imagined her fingers brushing against them. Would she feel the urgency? Would she hear your silent screams for her friendship? Handwritten letters—those delicate vessels of ink and paper—weave memories that transcend mere words. Each stroke of the pen, each carefully crafted sentence, carries a piece of the you in them. The intimacy lies not only in the content but also in the act of creation itself. You decided to write her if shes unable to talk, you wanted to give her the space she needed, you tried to be as understanding as you could. But one unanswered letter turned into two, three, four. You stopped putting them into her mailbox after five.

Now, you're trying to ignore the pain in your heart every time you wake up. Ellie's childish behavior hasn't stopped you from living your life. Instead, you channel your anger and sleepless nights into your work, making each patrol count. Working alongside Jesse has become a bright spot—a fun experience you eagerly anticipate. It's not the same as those moments outside the gates with Ellie, but it's different in a way that doesn't breed resentment.

You and Jesse share a closeness that predates his separation from Dina. The heartbreak they both faced has left its mark, and you find solace in each other's company. Jesse isn't thrilled about the situation either—the breakup and lingering jealousy still gnaw at him. On that second day of patrol together, he broaches the awkward topic between you and Ellie. "So, you gonna tell me what happened or not?" Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the abandoned checkpoint. He pulled a sandwich from his backpack, the crinkling of the wrapper echoing in the dim light. The two of you sat there, weary from the day's patrol, the weight of your assigned route still clinging to your bones. Nightfall had descended too swiftly, and the dangers of this post-apocalyptic world made it impossible to venture home safely after dark. You shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, the rough edges of the old checkpoint digging into your back. The makeshift campsite was a stark reminder of the life you now led—constantly on the move, always vigilant. Jesse's eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.

"Don't really know what's there to say, to be honest," you replied, your fingers tracing the edges of the food you'd prepared hours ago. The silence now haning between the two of you wasnt uncomftable,punctuated by the distant howl of a lone infected. "Maybe explain why we're now patrol partners? I thought you and Ellie made such a good team. Not that I'm complaining, though—we're badass too. Just wondering why you suddenly decided that Ellie wasn't good enough anymore," Jesse's voice cut through the dimly lit space of the makeshift camp. He lay down on the sleeping bag, using his right arm as a makeshift pillow, his gaze fixed on you. The flicker of confusion danced through the forest of your mind as you replayed Jesse's last words.

"What? I didn't decide that," you replied, studying your friend's posture as he took a bite of his cheese sandwich. "I asked Dina what happened earlier today." Jesse mumbled, his mouth still half full. "Ellie told her it was you who decided to change partners. Don't get me wrong—I feel honored to be your new partner in crime. I was just curious about what happened." - ''the fuck?'' You said more to yourself than him. ''Thats so fucked up..'' -"Okay, c'mon, I need the drama. Please explain to me like everything. Consider me one of your gossip girls," Jesse quipped, his unseriousness bringing a smile to your face. You took another bite of your food, savoring the dry bread as you gathered your thoughts. Trusting Jesse, you decided it wasn't a bad idea to share what had transpired between you and Ellie. So, with a deep breath, you began recounting the events of your last patrol with her. Jesse leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. His sandwich forgotten, he hangs on every word as you recount the events of that fateful patrol with Ellie. The tension, the unspoken words, the ache in your chest—it all spills out, painting a vivid picture of the fractured bond between you and the girl who once felt like your world.

"Damn," Jesse mutters, running a hand through his hair. "That's heavy stuff." His gaze lingers on your face, searching for answers. "You think she'll come around?'' You shrug, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders. ''Dont think so, I think she regrets even kissing me. She has dina now, dont think that she'll need me anymore.'' Your gaze drifts down to your wrist, where the matching bracelet still clings—a fragile thread connecting you to Ellie. You wonder if she wears hers. Jesse, now leading forward, nudges your shoulder playfully. "Well, partner," he says, "we'll keep kicking ass out here. Fuck them both".

After that night, you felt like Jesse and you were attached at the hip. Somehow, you both helped each other navigate the jagged terrain of heartbreak, spending time together and letting the hours slip away. Being friends with Jesse had its perks. He acted as a bridge to Ellie, still maintaining a sort of friendship with Dina, getting slim updates from her. Through Jesse, you received updates about Ellie—whether she was safe, whether she'd eaten enough.

But it wasn't the same. Those impersonal updates couldn't replace the warmth of setting eyes on Ellie, hearing her voice—the cadence of her laughter, the way she'd say your name. You missed the little things, the mundane details that had once woven your lives together. But over the time you started to accept the turn of events, knowing you cannot force Friendship on somebody.

You started to distract yourself outside of work, whether it was with Jesse or... Sophia. After that encounter where Maria broke the news to you about Ellie changing everything, you did the only thing you knew you were really good at: You ran off.

Weirdly enough, two weeks after that pivotal moment and your patrols with Jesse as your new partner, a knock on your door interrupted your vegetable-cutting session in the small kitchen. As you walked toward the door, a million possibilities raced through your mind. Was it Ellie, knocking on the wood on a late rainy afternoon? Or perhaps Jesse, wanting to talk? Dina? Or maybe Joel, coming all the way to the comfort of your four walls to deliver news about his beloved Ellie being hurt.

Secretly, you wished it was Ellie. So you ran a hand through your hair, glancing into the small mirror hanging near the door to check yourself out before opening the squeaky wood. But on the other side stood Sophia, holding a plate covered in aluminum foil. "Uhm... hey," she said, her cheeks flushed with red. "I've made some cake—way too much to eat all by myself. I wanted to share it. If, um, you want to, of course. It's chocolate cake." Her words tumbled out in a rush, and you sensed her nervousness. A Small smile spread across your face as you stepped aside, making space for her to enter the house. "That's too kind," you replied. "You've got impeccable timing. I just finished dinner—perfect time for dessert. Come inside." You didn't mention the comforting fact that her house was all the way across town, meaning she'd walked quite a distance just to bring you cake. Nor did you acknowledge that it was common knowledge that Sophia is allergic to Chocolate but it was your favorite.

One hour with Sophia turned into two, and before you knew it, the entire afternoon was filled with your laughter. She ended up staying over, making your house feel less empty. Since Dylan's passing, sleep had eluded you. Without Ellie by your side, it felt impossible to quiet your mind. Sophia changed that somewhat, but it didn't feel the same. Perhaps your own mind betrayed you, clouding your thoughts about her presence. You didn't want her to leave, yet you didn't necessarily want her to stay either. The universe seemed to decide for you, as the strawberry-blonde girl drifted off to sleep on your sofa after what felt like an eternity of talking.

You settled into your gray armchair, gently covering her thin body with your favorite blanket—the same one Ellie used to take whenever she stayed over. The entire night, you found yourself comparing Sophia to Ellie—the way she moved, the cadence of her voice, the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about her interests. It wasn't a good thing, you must admit. Sophia is a nice girl, but you never really considered her a potential friend, especially since you both shared your first kisses with each other. After that, things got weird, and you both grew up, walking different paths.

Yet now, here she was—baking you cakes, making you laugh, and filling the void left by Ellie. The universe had a funny way of intertwining lives, even when hearts were tangled in memories and unanswered letters. Having someone else in Ellie's place is like trying to fit a puzzle piece into a space that was uniquely shaped for her. It's both comforting and disorienting—a blend of familiarity and foreignness. Her presence brings warmth, but it's a different kind—the soft glow of candlelight instead of the blazing fire that Ellie ignited.Sophia's touch is gentle, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. But it lacks the electric charge—the pulse of longing—that Ellie's touch carried. You wonder if Sophia noticed the way you hesitated, the way your heart stumbles when she leans in too close.

The day with Sophia didnt end there, it stretched into a comfortable rhythm, covering the next two days of your life —a dance of shared meals, laughter, and quiet moments. Her presence filled the spaces that Ellie had once occupied, and you found yourself not minding it at all. The awkwardness of those initial conversations melted away as you both peeled back layers, revealing stories and dreams that wove your lives together.

But life has a way of interrupting even the most harmonious melodies. Jesse, with his uninvited pizza and the entire Twilight saga in tow, barged into your living room. You tried to politely decline the teen romance marathon—you'd seen it one too many times—but Jesse, being Jesse, brushed off your protests. His eyes widened when he saw Sophia sitting there, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. You knew he'd milk this moment, teasing you about having a cute girl over at your house.

After Jesse left, well, pratically run out, you settled back onto the sofa next to Sophia. "That was... Jesse, right?" she asked, her fingers playing with her curly hair. You leaned against the soft material of the sofa, nodding. "Uhm, yup." Sophia's gaze lingered on you, and you sensed her curiosity. "You two do spend a lot of time together—even after patrols," she observed."Oh? You noticed that? Stalking me, huh?" you teased, making Sophia blush. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. "Well," she replied, her voice soft, "you just always catch my eye." And then, without warning, her body shifted closer. Her hands found their place on either side of your waist, and her lips met yours—a sweetness that tasted like possibility. You hated yourself for it, truly. Because here was a girl with good intentions, almost on top of you, and your mind couldn't help but wish it was Ellie.

Another two months slip through your fingers, ephemeral as morning mist. Life, once heavy with the ache of Ellie's absence, begins to lift itself up. Sophia becomes a constant presence—a sunbeam that warms the corners of your heart as you allow yourself. Your growing relationship with Sophia blossoms, and you find comfort in her laughter, her touch, and the shared moments that weave your lives together. The unspoken question lingers: Are you allowed to call her your girlfriend? After all, you've shared more than just cake and conversations. Perhaps labels matter less than the way she looks at you, the way her fingers intertwine with yours.

And then there's Jesse—the steadfast friend who bridges the gap between patrols and pizza nights. His teasing about Sophia doesn't go unnoticed, but he's also the one who brings laughter into your home. Everything else remains unchanged—the memories, the unanswered letters, and the quiet longing. Life moves forward, and you find solace in the delicate balance of old and new. Patrol was as good as it could be, once you and Jesse found a way to connect your abilities, it didnt really feel like work anymore.

"Yo, little one," Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the stables, interrupting your grooming session with Lacy. You turned to meet his gaze, immediately noticing his patrol clothes—fitting perfectly against his frame. "What the hell are you doing? We have the day off, remember?" you asked, your fingers still caressing Lacy's mane.

"Not anymore," Jesse replied, already opening the door to his horse's stable. "Dina apparently has the flu, and they both forgot to sign in at the station outside. Maria asked me to take their route for today and look for anything weird." He led his dark brown horse out of the stable, determination etched on his face.

"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to continue your work. But Jesse wasn't done. "Nuh huh, lover girl. You're joining me," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Pardon?" You looked at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Don't hit me with Spanish,"- ''Its french'' Jesse chuckled. "well whatever it was,I don't speak it. Come on now, get ready. We don't have all day." He saddled his horse efficiently, his movements practiced. "Why should I? You said yes, not me," you replied stubbornly, even though you gathered all the essentials needed to prepare Lacy. "Well, because I'm your partner in crime? Your work husband? Love of your patrol life?" Jesse grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "And because I'll get bored alone. You don't have anything better to do anyway." - ''Rude?! maybe i had things planned?!'' You said, jokingly offended as you grab your stuff ''You can meet sophia and have all of those important 'converstations'' he made weird kissing noises ''later.'' He finished his sentance, making you laugh ''Well first of all I-'' You got interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You looked into the direction of the noise and saw the last person you wanted to see today. ''Sup, Ellie.'' Jesse said, leaning against the stable door. ''what can I do for you?'' He asked, eyes stuck on ellie. But her gaze lied elsewhere; On you.

You shivered under her gaze, your heart racing. As you looked into Ellie's eyes—the first time in forever—you sensed something there, something you couldn't quite put into words. Her burning gaze finally shifted from you to Jesse, arms crossed at her chest.

"Earlier, when me and Dina were at the station, I lost my journal," Ellie said, her voice close, intimate. "Can you look for it? Kinda really need it back." Her words echoed through the stable, and suddenly, the air felt too thin. Your knees wobbled, memories of Ellie cascading down the memory bridge, crashing into your stomach. You felt like you might throw up. "Sure, we will look for it. Anything else?" Jesse asked, glancing between the two of you. Ellie's eyes traveled back to you, and silent hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe this was the moment—maybe Ellie would finally have the guts to talk to you directly, to say she's sorry. But as her gaze wavered, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment. Once again, Ellie remained silent.You felt a strong hand on your shoulder, silently offering support. Jesse's familiar scent enveloped you. "Thought so," he said, ending the conversation. Ellie nodded and turned away, leaving the two of you alone. The barn was filled with silence until you spoke with a shaky voice. "Okay, let's just go." And so you did—you and Jesse left for patrol. But with every passing second, the memory of that confrontation lingered, and you realized how much you still craved her.

"Jesus, I hate this path," Jesse grumbled, pushing open the old, creaky door to the station. His face turned red from the effort, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Stop crying like a baby. Let's sign in and leave," you said, walking toward the desk on the opposite side of the room. As you approached, you noticed that a pen was missing. Without it, you obviously couldn't sign in.

"Jesse, there's no pen," you called out, looking at your friend. "Really? Look under the table or something. We'll find one," he replied. You followed his suggestion, getting down on your knees. Spiderwebs greeted you, along with the encroaching dusk. You pulled out your flashlight, shining it underneath the table for a better look. And there it was—an old, leather-covered book. You'd recognize that book spine anywhere, even in the grandest libraries.

You picked it up, wiping away the dust that clung to its material. The thickness of the journal reminded you of what you were holding—a door to Ellie Williams' secrets and mindful thoughts. "Found one!" Jesse's voice snapped you out of your reverie. You turned around, hiding the journal behind your back. Jesse joined you, writing your names on the slim paper of the checklist. ‘Partner in crimes ( Jesse and y/n)’

"Did you find anything? The book, I mean. It's not somewhere I looked," Jesse asked. You shook your head, slipping the journal into your bag without it being noticed. "Nope, didn't find it either."

''Every poem I ever wrote was about her. That smile of hers, those golden eyes—whenever she's too close to the sun, it's impossible for me to stay away. The day I left, my heart shattered into a million pieces. In my head, inside my perfect self-made world, she never left me. All my thoughts revolve around her—the memories etched into my mind. Her touch, so soft—I never wanted to let go. The scent of her clothes, stealing my breath away. The nights we spent dreaming together, the minutes I never want to regret. I never dared to imagine a lifetime without her. Yet here I am, writing these words with a hole in my chest. I'm bleeding out, the wind kissing my mind, refreshing memories of letting go. The silence surrounds me, a reminder to hold on.

I search the past for redemption, but it eludes me. The only thing left of me are broken pieces of her.”

The words were carefully etched onto the paper, making it hard for you to breathe. You hadn't intended to overstep her privacy—why had you taken that journal in the first place? You dont know. But here you were, sitting with the book in hand, the only light in the living room emanating from the countless candles you'd lit.

The journal looked thicker than usual, and that's what caught your attention first. You knew that book well, even though you'd never seen what she put inside—except for her drawings of animals, Joel, Dina, and you. She'd never shown anyone what she wrote between the pages.

The reason you'd decided to open the book, against all your inner morals, was the fact that as you carefully pulled it out of your bag—treating it like fragile glass—multiple letters fell out. You noticed them right away. They were yours—carefully written letters she'd never dared to answer. The envelopes ripped open showed you she defenetly read them all. You dont know how to feel about that yet. Relieved that she cared enough to read them? Happy becasue she carried your letters with her, doesnt matter where shed go? Or mad, because she never replied? You know nothing. The only thing you're able to do now is bury yourself in the book, reading what Ellie never dared to say out loud.

''Ive been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that. Pulled the car off the road to the lookout, Could've followed my fears all the way down. And maybe I don't quite know what to say but I'm here in your doorway. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying''

The words cut deeper than a knife,

before you knew it, your eyes traveled to the next phrases, crossed out, you could barely read them:

"It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you.

Seeing you with Sophie burns me from inside out.

Why are you with her?

I know I don't own you, perhaps I never will,

so the anger inside of me when I see you with her

is something I'm not allowed to feel.

What I feel, I shouldn't show you.

So when you're around, I don't.

I let you walk away with her.

I know I don't have the right to feel it,

but it doesn't mean I don't."

The rest of the book was empty, besides some skteches of eyes that look dangerously like yours. You swallowed hard, not really sure of what you should feel. You re-read the sentences out loud, letting the bittersweet aftertaste of them making you feel alive. Your heart has been Ellies since the first time you both laughed together; yet you were so sure of the fact that she would never feel the same. Considering the words in the journal, maybe it wasnt one sided after all. Youre confused, being with Sophia was easy, comftable. But with ellie, it was different. better. You miss the butterflies in your stomach, miss her touch and her closeness. The rollercoster was everything you ever had, after all.

Two days of full selfishness carried its weight, and you continued to keep the journal. The guilt crept in, stealthy as shadows, finding you at night, when the world slept and your thoughts roamed free. Those written pages from Ellie, inked with longing and crossed-out confessions, haunted your mind. You tried your best to hide the pain, a fragile masquerade. Distancing yourself from Sophia and Jesse, you walked the tightrope of deception. It wasn't deliberate; it was survival. The what-could've-been danced like a ghost, whispering secrets in your ear. You wondered if Ellie's heart echoed the same unspoken words.

Sophia, her presence a comforting harbor, yet her touch felt like borrowed warmth. And Jesse, his eyes— The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless hunger. You held Sophia too close, fearing Ellie's phantom gaze. You looked into Jesse's eyes, and the lie about keeping the Journal tasted bitter on your tongue. Ellie, elusive as a wisp of smoke. The barn encounter—the air thick with unspoken truths—left you breathless. You havent seen her since. You called in sick for the patrol meeting, a desperate escape from the inevitable. The fear of facing her again, of unraveling the fragile equilibrium, gripped your heart.

In the quiet of your room, the journal lay open. The crossed-out phrases, the sketches of eyes—they were your silent companions.

——————————————————-

"Okay, Miss being all sad and distant, I'm not having this anymore. Tell me what's going on right now or I'm killing you," Jesse declared, pressing past you as you opened the door. His urgency hung in the air, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

"Jesus, very aggressive today, aren't we?" you quipped, trailing after your friend into the living room. The door closed behind you, sealing you both in a cocoon of tension. You sank into the couch, and Jesse settled next to you, his gaze drilling holes into your soul."Therapy session. Now. What's going on?" His hands clasped together, a makeshift gavel. The room felt smaller, suffocating. You glanced at the coffee table, considering the whiskey bottle, but thought better of it. "Nothing? Do you want to drink anything... or?" Your voice played innocent, a fragile mask. Jesse wasn't fooled. "The jury says stop trying to change the subject." His tone held a mix of exasperation and concern."The jury...?" You grinned, despite the weight in your chest. "Yeah, me." Jesse's eyes softened, and you chuckled. "It's nothing, really.“

"You're completely distant," he said, his voice calm. "Even Sophia asked me if I have any idea what's going on." The truth hung between you like a fragile thread, ready to snap.

"I don't know... it's, urgh, weird." You fidgeted with the edge of a cushion. Jesse leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Tell me!" His insistence bordered on desperation

"Okay, but promise me not to hate me?" You gave him a side-eye, afraid of meeting his gaze head-on. "Could never hate you," he replied, and the words carried weight. So you spilled it—the secret you'd harbored, the journal you'd found.

Ellie's words, inked and crossed out, danced in your memory. You didn't reveal the exact phrasing, but you shared the confusion—the way her emotions bled through the pages. Jesse listened, his eyes wide, and you wondered if he saw the echoes of your own heartache.

In that quiet room, the truth hung heavy. You'd kept Ellie's words hidden, but now they spilled forth. Jesse's hand found yours, and you clung to it, hoping for absolution. "It's Ellie," you whispered. "It's always been Ellie." His silence spoke volumes, eyes carrying the weight of unspoken understanding. He'd always sensed your feelings for Ellie, perhaps even before you did. It wasn't a secret to anyone but her—the way your heart gravitated toward her, like a moth drawn to a flame. “You guys need to talk.” Jesse said.

"I can't," you whispered, the words fragile on your tongue. The weight of unspoken truths pressed against your chest, threatening to spill forth."And why the fuck not? What do you have to lose?" Jesse's voice held a mix of frustration and concern. He saw through your defenses, stripped away the layers you'd carefully woven. Ellie—the enigma, the ache—loomed between you like a shadow."Afraid of losing her? I think you already archived that." His bluntness cut through your heart. You knew it too well—the missed chances, the crossed-out phrases, the silence that echoed louder than words. Jesse could see the pain in you and the bluntless paired with that slight tinge of what appeared to be anger slowly disappeared into thin air, much like the smoke of a lit cigarette blown into the night sky.

"Look" he begins, sighing while he considers the phrasing of this. He means no harm, but being too gentle could erase the importance of the situation "I want to help you, but you cannot hide yourself away. If you truly want this girl, you need to be able to put in the effort. Dina and Ellie arent dating either, dina told me herself that the two of them thought there was something but ended up with nothing. Be honest with yourself, but also with everyone else" You exhale deeply, relief floods your system despite the heavy heart still pounding against your chest.

Jesse is the kind of friend you can never let go. He's just that important.

Between the soft tunes of comfortingly familiar songs and a few shed tears, the two of you scheme together... Creating a, hopefully, foolproof plan on how to finally approach the elephant in the room. Ellie and you; it wasn't over, was it?

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moonxytcn · 1 day

Note

Hey! Could I request Billie comforting and taking care of an insecure reader with an eating disorder

And, I'd love to be friends :)

Love and Insecurities ||

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – when you feel insecure Billie is there to remind you how beautiful you are.

warnings – fluffy, angst (almost anything ), eating disorder.

word count – 606.

a/n – Heyy! my first request, I'm happy. I hope you like this, and I'm sorry if it wasn't that good I'm a new writer so I'm still learning, constructive criticism is always welcome. thank you very much for requesting.

English is not my first language so there may be some errors

This gif isn't mine, I found it on Google

–––

You are sitting by the window, watching the city lights sparkle in the darkness of the night. A gentle breeze enters the room, bringing with it a sense of calm and serenity, as you let yourself be enveloped by the silence of the night. Waiting for Billie, who at this moment was in her studio, you can't help but fear the moment when she comes home with the same pizza box she always brings when she comes home late at night.

Your eating disorder has been present since school. Since you were a teenager, you've always been a bit chubby in your thighs, belly, and arms, which at the time led you to suffer bullying. Not wanting to hear any more comments and teasing about your body, you started reducing the amount of food you ate and sometimes even skipped meals during the day, all in an attempt to get as close as possible to the imposed standards.

When you met Billie, it was like a breath of fresh air. From the moment you laid eyes on each other, it seemed like a line had been drawn connecting you two. Billie has always been kind and loving to you, always making sure to tell you how much she loves you and affirming how beautiful you are. Of course, over time, this reduced the insecurity you had around her, but there was always a small flame waiting to grow, I mean, surely she's seen prettier women out there, right? She was a famous singer, you were sure there were better people to be by her side.

But she always assured you that you were the right person for her, that she loved you, and that you were the one she loved showing off to the world, always protecting you from the paparazzi but also showing the cameras the beautiful girlfriend she had.

Snapping out of your thoughts with the sound of the door opening, you got off the window ledge and went downstairs to meet her.

"Hey, love." She says when she sees you, coming towards you and hugging you and giving you a soft kiss on your lips as a greeting. "I brought pizza." She adds, smiling, showing her dimples.

"Hey darling. How was your day?" You ask. "I'm really not that hungry." You say and you don't notice but she already looks at you with recognition in her blue eyes.

"It's okay, come here." She says, taking your hand and leading you to the couch where she lays you down and climbs on top of you. "You are beautiful and perfect just the way you are, and I know I've been a bit distant with the album production, but I promise I'll remind you of this every day. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever had the pleasure of seeing, and I'm thankful every day to be able to call you mine." She says, looking deeply into your eyes. And with her words, you feel your eyes welling up as you try to look away, but she doesn't let you, gently grabbing your jaw to make you look at her.

Looking into your eyes she leans in and gives a soft kiss on your eyes, cheeks, forehead, and until she reaches your lips where she gives a kiss full of love, passion, and affection for you. "You are amazing and I'll never tire of saying that to you." She says softly to you.

She gives a last kiss on your lips and leaves light kisses like feathers down your neck, which she passes to your collarbone and onto your arms, belly, and thighs where she knows are the parts you like the least. "I love you entirely, I love your brown eyes, your beautiful arms, your belly, and those wonderful thighs where I always love to be in the middle because you know I love it when you almost suffocate me with them." She says, making you let out a little laugh which she finds adorable.

You pull her up by her t-shirt and pull her into a deep kiss, trying to show your gratitude and love for her. Coming out of the kiss all you can say to her is how much you love her and how grateful you are to have her in your life, and that you hope that in the future you'll have the life you've always dreamed of together.

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish fanfic #celebrity imagine #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x you #wlw #billie eilish fic

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homestuckreplay · 2 days

Text

Harlequin Anger vs Jester Ennui - Color as John Egbert’s Emotions

Week 2 Retrospective

John Egbert is the silliest little guy, but we’re starting to see hints of what he’s feeling beneath the surface. Looking at the themes of the comic so far, my current theory is that the colorful elements in the comic are the things that make John feel strong emotions - both good and bad - while the monochrome elements represent what makes John feel bored and frustrated.

Analysis below the cut - about 2,200 words.

‘A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.’ (p.82)

Desolation has two, related meanings - one is loneliness, grief, and lack of companionship, while the other is ruin, emptiness and destruction. The first meaning is John’s current mental state, while the second is the suburb he lives in. The majority of what’s surrounding John is entirely monochrome, and so is John himself. We also learn from the narration on p.82 that ‘something feels missing from [John’s] life’ and that he has a sense ‘not of mirth, but of lack’. I think he spends a lot of time going through the motions - poking at things in his room without settling to anything, wandering up and down the stairs when his dad is occupied - but his life is the same day in and day out, and he struggles to inject any excitement into his life, or even any anger at the situation he’s trapped in.

I think it’s extremely notable that almost everything relating to John’s family is monochrome. In addition to the house as a whole, the portraits of his dad and nanna are monochrome, as are the gifts and cakes from his dad, the car outside, and most importantly the piano. I don’t think John hates his father, but I think he struggles to connect with him or feel close to him. Ignoring page 72’s peanut ambiguity, the worst we hear about Dad is that he will ‘monopolize hours of [John’s] time’ (p.30) and ‘can be a real cornball’ (p.49), which is a big contrast to him calling Betty Crocker his ‘arch nemesis’ (p.48).

Therefore, John’s dad is an inconvenience, not a threat. John might know intellectually that his dad loves him - ‘the old man really came through this time’ (p.19), as well as the kind fatherly notes left on John’s birthday presents (p.12, p.55) - but I think he can’t make the leap to actually caring about his dad in return or enjoying his company.

John is a gifted piano player, and gives us a ‘haunting piano refrain’ (p.77). Him being a musician ties back into the act title - ‘the note desolation plays’ uses the language of music, something so often filled with emotion, to describe a lack of it. Given that, of course the piano is monochrome. Perhaps John even sees the piano as the source of his problems, or at least representative of them.

I noted at the time that it was strange John hadn’t listed piano among his interests when it’s clearly something he’s spent a lot of time on, and now I think it’s something that was taught to him as a kid by either his dad or nanna. He’s good at it, but he’s so disconnected from family life that it no longer brings him any joy, it’s just a hangover from his childhood. ‘Haunting’ makes me think it was his nanna who taught him - now every time John plays, he’s haunted by her memory (or even her literal ghost). Possibly her death is what made John disconnect from the hobby, especially with ‘desolation’ relating to grief.

On page 4, we get our first glimpse of the outside. The blue sky shot through with the brown tree is the largest splash of color in John’s room. The promise of the outside world is extremely colorful, and we know John wants to go there - the window reflected in John’s glasses on page 28 as he grins excitedly is a clear visual indication of that. Yet when we finally see it, the outside isn’t all color - the grass, sky, trees and flowers all are, but the man made aspects such as the driveway, tire swing, and other houses in the neighborhood are gray and dull.

Page 82 gives us the dramatic moment of John removing his clever disguise and gazing up at the sky. It’s the first time we see the sun and the uninterrupted expanse, and it’s framed like it’s significant for John, too. I don’t think it’s literally his first time stepping outside (you can’t tell me his dad didn’t push him on that tire swing as a kid) but I think it’s the moment he realizes that leaving his literal house doesn’t mean he’s not stuck - the neighborhood is just more of the same, and whatever restrictions John’s working within mean he can’t go any further than this. A front yard is legally part of a house, and the reality of the outside doesn’t excite him as much as the idea of it.

And then there’s the clowns. The one aspect of his dad that really gets John going; the harlequin portraits in the hallway and living room that Dad brought back from clown con are bright, obnoxious, and impossible to ignore. Interestingly, the ones in the study are black and white - perhaps John is okay with the clown pictures in the study, because that’s explicitly his dad’s space, but he doesn’t like the ones in the main area, because they make him feel like the house is fully his dad’s, not a shared space they could decorate together.

This is pure speculation, but I don’t think John has ever moved house. I get the impression that he grew up in this house, which is his dad’s now and was perhaps originally his nanna’s, and has never known a world outside of this specific neighborhood. Because John’s been there since he was born, it’s never crossed his dad’s mind that John might want to, say, put his Little Monsters poster in the living room - hence why that gift was left in John’s bedroom, while the harlequin doll is allowed to be downstairs.

Speaking of John’s room, it’s definitely not an oasis of color within the house. In our first shot of the room, we see six splashes of color, including the outside and John’s shirt - comparable to the living room (six including John’s shirt and hat) and study (five including the outside and John’s hat). A full three of the colorful elements in John’s room are related to Sburb, which in both the visuals and text is the thing John’s by far the most excited about right now, but I’ll circle back around to this.

John’s magic chest, magician’s hat, blood capsules, and copies of Colonel Sassacre’s and Wise Guy are all colorful too, but other prank elements - fake arms, beaglepuss, handcuffs, sword, smoke pellets) are all monochrome. This one’s tough, but my best guess is that John feels conflicted about his interest in pranks because it’s so similar to his dad’s interest, and perhaps even that the monochrome items are things John’s dad bought for him for past birthdays and holidays, while the colorful ones are things John got for himself.

John’s shirt is also worth mentioning here. John’s ambivalence with the house extends to himself, and kids often don’t have a lot of control over their appearance. He probably doesn’t choose his own clothes or glasses or haircut, and he definitely can’t go out and get a tattoo of Slimer or anything like that, so it’s very telling that wearing a shirt with a favorite movie on it is the one way John can actually connect to himself.

That said, all the movie posters in his room are monochrome, which I’ll again circle back to. One exception is the close up of the Problem Sleuth poster (p.11), which is mostly monochrome, but has four kernels of colorful candy corn. I love this detail so much. It’s a fun reference to Hussie’s previous work and suggests that the candy corn gags in Problem Sleuth are John’s favorite part, which feels right for him. I wonder if John will use candy corn for a prank at some point in reference to this game he likes. I also noticed that the menu bar at the top of the web page also contains four kernels of candy corn - is this just because Problem Sleuth is Hussie’s most notable work, or could it be a clue for Homestuck too?

The most colorful and complex elements of the comic so far are the screens. We see John’s computer, which as a physical object is monochrome but which lights up to a brightly colored world of chums, flashing programs, desktop icons and stunning feats of graphic design, including things John loves (Slimer) and things that make him boil with rage (coding). We also get to see a very green tinted TV commercial in the living room, and a full color clip of Con Air linked from page 20.

All this makes me wonder if John’s list of interests is chronological. First on his list (p.4) is ‘really terrible movies’, and many of his favorite titles are from the 1980s and 90s, meaning he probably grew up with them. I think he still loves watching and discussing them, but - given that movies are a fairly passive medium - just the reminder of them on his wall isn’t enough to take him out of his own head anymore. He then got into programming, the paranormal, magic, and video games in sequence, meaning that the final two are his most active interests right now, and the ones to which the most time and color are devoted. In this way, the casual end to the list ‘You also like to play GAMES sometimes’ reads like intentionally downplaying something that’s actually really important, the sarcasm of ‘sometimes’ revealed later when we learn that John has ‘put countless manhours into this assortment of quality titles’ (p.31).

Unlike the movie posters, most of the games on John’s CD rack are in color, and unlike movies, games can offer an interactive, immersive experience. Games are enticing to John right now because they’re the best escape from a monotonous, suburban life that John has access to. He’s played his current collection time and time again (to the point that Bard Quest and Problem Sleuth have lost their color), and that’s why he’s so desperate for Sburb to arrive, and why the colorful reminders of Sburb are all over his room.

I think there’s a very real question of whether Sburb will live up to John’s expectations. At only one letter away from Suburb, it’s a clear reminder that video games don’t actually take John away from the life he’s stuck in, they’re a cosmetic alteration at best - and if the themes of the game are too close to John’s real life problems, he won’t find that escapism. So while I’d love to see a version of this comic where John finally starts playing Sburb and the whole screen immediately explodes into color, I’m not sure it’ll be that easy.

Finally, there’s the meta elements of the story. The captchalogue card overlay and strife specibus are pink and green respectively, and other elements that pop up (indication of whether or not we’ve got John’s name right, the cake turning blue when selected, the blinking green telling us we can put the poster on the wall, etc) are colorful too. The hammer that John allocates to his strife specibus is monochrome, however, which fits really well with John allocating it on TG’s instructions and not knowing that the allocation is permanent. If he’d known, he would have chosen something he felt more strongly about.

Interestingly, the narrative text is black. I still don’t think we’re directly getting John’s perspective, I think that’s been filtered through a specific narrator who has a voice very different to John’s (based on John’s Pesterchum messages), but I don’t think John has any awareness of this. In contrast, he’s all too aware of his captchalogue deck and the artificial, needlessly complex limitations it imposes, and he visually reacts to us getting his name right or wrong.

If John were to somehow become aware of the narrative text, and have strong feelings about the way he’s being portrayed (or the fact that he’s being written about at all), perhaps it would change color? After all, when John talks to his friends, each of them has a defined color, perhaps relating to the different relationships he has with each friend, and different emotions arising from that. John doesn’t seem to always like his friends - he gets frustrated at the notifications, and spends his whole conversation with TT already trying to leave - but he still replies and actively engages with them, a massive contrast to how he is with his dad.

‘His riddle is Absence itself.’ (p.82)

To conclude, I do find it interesting that the brightest colors in the comic are the things that are most natural (grass, flowers) and the things that are most artificial (screens, the abstract concept of the inventory) while everything in the middle is black and white. This fits with the idea of color being about both extremes at once, and the idea that John wants a chance to explore both the real and virtual worlds.

The meta function of color is to make certain visual elements stand out to the audience and tell us they’re worth paying attention to. From a purely functional perspective, it makes sense that the things most important to John would also be highlighted to us. But given the theme of lack and emptiness, the absence of color is just as important. And as the comic is already playing so much with the meta, I think that’s the most helpful starting point for analysis.

#homestuck #john egbert #analysis #i wanted to house of leaves this post so bad........#also is it cool and helpful to have all the page number citations or is it really bad to read. anyone who has opinions please tell me #(shaking in my boots as i state that 'games are an interactive immersive experience' without the 20+ citations that i Know this claim needs

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sequinsmile-x · 2 days

Text

Bezel

He couldn't fix or change her past, but he could give her this.

-x-

Hi friends,

As we all know, I have a very famous lack of control. The lovely @eyesontheskyline posted a gif set and made a comment about Emily's giant watch in 2x20, my mind went haywire and once again here we are.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this - please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Mentions/references to loss of a parent

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs contently as she takes a sip of her beer, the coolness of it removing any last bits of tension in her shoulders that the case they’d resolved had created.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She turns her head to look at Aaron and smiles as their eyes meet, his eyes soft in a way they rarely were outside of either of their homes or the hotel rooms they shared. There was something strangely empowering about him looking at her like that in front of their friends and it warms her from the inside out. She nods and reaches for his hand that is slung over her shoulders, linking their fingers together as she leans in to kiss him, the taste of the scotch he was drinking passing from his lips to hers. She smiles into the kiss when she hears the others groan, making a point of deepening it for a moment before she pulls away, squeezing his hand tightly as she leans in further to his side.

“Okay, we get it, you guys are adorable,” Dave says dryly, a fond glint in his eyes as they both turn to look at him, “I think I preferred it when you two were pretending not to like each other.”

“I didn’t,” Penelope says, her glee at seeing them together obvious, her entire body practically vibrating with it. Her gaze drifts to Emily’s bare wrist and her smile drops, the corners of her lips turning downwards into a slight pout, “Sorry about your watch, Peaches.”

Emily looks at her wrist, her bare skin peeking out from underneath the sleeve of her shirt. Her watch had been damaged during the takedown of the unsub, the glass face of it smashed against the wall as he tried to evade arrest and shoved her out of his way. She’d cried out when it happened, more in shock at being pushed than anything else, her worst injury a slight graze of her palm against the brick wall, but it had been enough for Aaron to overreact. Her usually reserved and stoic boyfriend had briefly forgotten where they were and gone out of his way to make sure she was okay, barrelling into the room she was in as if he’d heard a gunshot, accidentally revealing their relationship to the team as he checked her over for injuries that didn’t exist.

It was why she’d allowed herself to get dragged into going for drinks with the team when all she wanted to really do was snuggle up with Aaron in his bed or hers. The news had travelled fast and Penelope had called her before the unsub was even in the back of a cop car, demanding they all went out when they landed back in DC because she wanted to see them. Aaron had been hesitant, his embarrassment at overreacting clear, but Emily had talked him into it. Her smile and a promise of later enough to convince him a few drinks with their friends was a good thing.

They’d told them what they wanted to hear, answering their friend's questions in a way that still allowed them to keep their privacy. Emily felt a certain sense of pride blooming in her chest when they told them they’d been together 8 weeks without anyone noticing, although Dave claimed to have known the entire time. Even though Emily knew they would both miss their relationship just being for them, she liked sharing it with the people she cared about. It made it feel impossibly more real - the three words she hadn’t said outloud yet, the three he hadn’t said either, on the tip of her tongue.

“Oh, that’s okay,” she says, smiling as her gaze drifts to where her hand is linked with Aaron’s for a second before she looks back up at her friends, “It wasn’t expensive. I have plenty of others”

“Are you talking you expensive, or regular person expensive, Princess?” Derek asks, hiding a grin behind his beer, “Because those are two different things.”

She laughs humourlessly as she makes a point of rolling her eyes. She makes eye contact with Penelope again and sighs when she sees that she still seems worried, a crease between her brows that lets Emily know her friend is still thinking about the smashed watch in her go-bag.

“I mean it, Pen,” she assures her, “It’s just a watch, it’s not like held any great sentimental value.”

There’s something about the way she says it that makes Aaron pause, his brows furrowing for just a second as he looks down at her, a smile still fixed on her face as she carries on talking to Penelope. Emily had always been very purposeful with everything she’d ever said. She’d been taught at an early age that words mattered, that everything had weight to it. She was never calculated, but she never said anything she didn’t mean, so it makes him curious and leaves him wondering if she meant that she did have a watch that held sentimental value. He files it away for later, sure that whatever it was it was something she wouldn’t want to share with the team.

When they get back to his apartment, it’s late. They shower together, their laughter and muffled groans lost under the roar of the water, neither one of them wanting to wake Jack up by mistake. By the time they climb into bed, Emily is tired, her body relaxed and sated as she crawls half on top of him, her eyes already closed as she relaxes into his embrace. He hauls her closer and smiles as she giggles, a sound she’d deny if he ever brought it up, her hand fisted in his t-shirt as she anchors herself to him.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, his lips against her forehead as he trails his hand up and down her back. She hums as she settles further into his embrace, her arm over his waist and her leg over his hips.

“Always,” she murmurs, turning her head just enough to kiss his chest, “But make it quick, the combination of the beer and your magic touch is sending me to sleep.”

Aaron chuckles and kisses her forehead, taking a moment to breathe her in before he asks the question he’d been thinking of since they were in the bar, “Earlier, you said the watch you broke today wasn’t sentimental. Does that mean you have one that is?”

A part of her wonders if she should be annoyed that he noticed, that he was so good at his job it bled into their personal lives, but she can’t bring herself to be. Instead, she realises she wants to tell him, that she wants to reveal another part of herself to him simply because he’d asked.

“Do you remember that big watch I had?” She asks, her gaze locked on the wall of his bedroom, “It had a leather strap, the face of it was wider than my wrist.”

He nods before realising she isn’t looking at him, “I remember.”

“It was my dad’s watch. When he died…” she clears her throat and presses her lips together, giving herself a moment before she carries on, “My mom gave it to me. I kept it and one day I couldn’t find my watch so I wore it to work,” she lifts her head to look up at him, her hands on his chest as she rests her chin on them, “It was huge on me. Big and impractical and so obviously not made for me,” she chuckles, “But it made me feel weirdly close to him. Which probably sounds insane.”

“It doesn’t,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, smiling encouragingly at her as she leans into the touch, “It doesn’t sound insane at all,” he assures her and her response is to turn her head to kiss his palm, “What happened to it?”

He’d picked up on how she was talking about it in the past tense, had seen the wistful look in her eyes as she thought about the watch. She smiles sadly and slips one of her hands into his, pressing their palms together to test the size difference.

There was something comforting about how big he was in comparison to her, something about it that made her feel safe. She didn’t need him to protect her, didn’t need him to hold her together, but she wanted him to. She wanted to share things with him that she’d never shared with anyone because she knew nothing would scare him off. He’d seen the very worst of her and he was still here, he still wanted to know more.

“It was sold with everything else when I died,” she says carefully, making sure to link their fingers together as she says it, hoping the way she squeezes his hand lets him know she doesn’t blame him, his guilt for making that decision for her still lingering every time it was mentioned, “I was surprised Mother didn’t take it - she was the one who got it for him. But…she had all my things sold,” she smiles sadly, a shaky breath slipping past her lips as she thinks about it. About how her mother had all but wiped any memory of her from the face of the earth. She knew it was likely a defence mechanism, a way of dealing with the fact her only child was dead, but Emily liked to think if it had been her she’d have made a different decision.

Aaron drags her in for a quick kiss, his hand on her cheek as he encourages her closer to him, unable to bear to not kiss her any longer, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You deserved better than that.”

She smiles and kisses him, letting her lips linger against his for a moment longer than necessary as she tries to convince herself that he’s right, drawing the comfort from him that only he had ever truly been able to provide.

“I never understood their relationship. They loved each other, just not in the way I ever wanted to love someone,” she says, looking down at his chest again, at the random patterns she was drawing on his shirt as she willfully ignores the fact they hadn’t told each other how they felt yet. The words unspoken but felt in everything they did for each other, a gentle kind of love they both thought was beyond them, “Mom got Dad the watch for his 40th birthday. It had this engraving on the back of it - See You in Paris,” she smiles sadly as she sighs, “It was their favourite place. It’s where I always remember them being at their happiest.”

“Paris?”

She laughs, an edge of bitterness to it as she nods, “Yeah, Paris,” she says, her eyebrow raised as she looks at him, “The universe has a sense of humour apparently.”

There’s so much he wants to say, an apology he knows she won’t accept trapped in his chest as he stares at her, but in the end he settles on kissing her, pulling back just enough to speak as he rests his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for telling me.”

She smiles, familiar love for him burning in her chest, desperately trying to escape as she presses her lips together to hold it in place, still worried it was too soon to say anything.

“Thank you for asking,” she replies quietly, kissing him once more before she rests her head on his chest, sighing contentedly as he wraps his arms around her. He immediately re-starts running his hand up and down her back, the warmth of him drawing her in, making her feel heavy and light in equal measure, “Goodnight, honey.”

He hides a smile in her hairline as she yawns and he kisses her forehead, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He lays there as she falls asleep against him, an idea forming in his mind before he joins her, his grip on her never loosening.

___

Aaron pauses outside Penelope’s office, his hand frozen in place as he hesitates to knock, wondering if he is making the right decision. Before he can talk himself out of it the door swings open and Penelope shrieks, her eyes wide as she places her hand on her chest.

“Sir, sorry,” she says, clearing her throat before she steps back to let him into her office, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“That’s okay,” he says as he closes the door behind him, “I wanted to ask you something-”

“If this is about the checks I did on Henry’s school, I was only checking if-”

“No, it’s not about…” he frowns as he trails off, raising his eyebrow at her, “Should it be about that?”

She shakes her head, “No definitely not,” she says, taking a seat at her desk, “How can I help?”

He sighs, scratching the back of his head, hesitancy he doesn’t like washing over him, “If I ask you to look for something for me, can it just be between us?”

Penelope’s eyes go wide, the idea of being in on a secret exciting her, “Of course,” she says, before she gasps, her eyes somehow even wider, “Is this Emily related?”

He hides a groan as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “Yes.”

Penelope covers her mouth, physically holding her excitement in as she shifts closer to him on her chair, “Oh my god, are you going to propose?” She asks, and he glares at her, his stern gaze forcing her to calm down, “Okay, no proposal…yet,” she says, “How can I help?”

“When Emily…” he clears his throat, “When she died all of the things in her estate were sold on in an auction. Do you think you could track one of those things down for me?”

He sees the flash of pain across her face, how she struggles to push it away before she nods, “Just tell me what you need bossman, and I’ll find it.”

He smiles gratefully at her and pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket, all of the details about the watch written down on it, “And remember-”

“Not a word of this to Peaches or anyone else,” she says as she takes the piece of paper from him, a sense of determination overtaking her as she turns back to her computer, and he knows this is one secret Penelope Garcia will keep.

___

“Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” Emily asks, smiling as Aaron meets her eyes from where he’s standing. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, giving her a delicious hint of his forearms, the muscles shifting under his skin from where he’s washing dishes.

“I’m all done, sweetheart,” he says, reaching for a dish towel and drying off his hands, “Do you need more wine?”

She shakes her head and grumbles, “What I need is my boyfriend to come over here and make out with me.”

He chuckles and nods, pulling one of the drawers in his kitchen open, blowing out a quick breath before he lifts the large jewellery box out from where he’d hidden it under a towel. The search for the watch had been a little tricker than he’d hoped. In the last couple of weeks, he’d almost given up hope, and at times he’d only been bolstered by Penelope’s seemingly unending optimism that she’d find it. When she did she’d called him, her excitement so loud Emily had heard her from his phone while standing on the other side of the room. He’d brushed off her curiosity and was grateful when she didn’t ask any further questions. The nerves he’d felt when he first thought of doing this for her return in full throttle as he walks over to the couch, a piece of her history gripped firmly in his hand.

“Before we get to that,” he says, sitting next to her, holding the box out so she can see it, “I got you something.”

She hums curiously and sits up straight, placing her glass of wine down before she takes the box from him, “I haven’t forgotten our 10-week anniversary or something have I?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, his hand heavy and warm on her thigh, “Is that a thing?”

She shrugs, “If it is, I owe you a blow…” she drifts off, her joke dying in her throat as she opens the box, her mouth hanging open as he looks at the watch. She chokes on a laugh as she looks between him and the watch, words escaping her for a moment as she shakes her head, the conversation they’d had a couple of weeks ago coming back to her, “They don’t even make this model anymore.”

Aaron squeezes her thigh as he watches her run her finger over the bezel, her touch delicate as if she’d damage the steel, “It’s not a duplicate sweetheart,” he says gently, his smile soft as she looks up at him, her eyes shining, “It’s your dad’s.”

She frowns as she pulls the watch out of the box and turns it over, her breath catching in her chest as she looks at the engraving on the back, as if she hadn’t quite believed him until she saw it.

See You In Paris

She presses her thumb into it, and feels the dips and curves of the metal, a habit she’d picked up when her mother first gave it to her. One of the few ways she felt close to her father after she lost him. She looks up at Aaron, her vision blurry as tears push at the back of her eyes.

“Aaron…” she breathes out, his name caught on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, “How did you find this?”

He shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if he hasn’t just given her back a piece of herself she thought was lost, “I asked Garcia to help,” he says, smiling when her eyes get wider, “She found the guy who bought it and I bought it back from him.”

She holds the watch tightly as if it would disappear and presses it against her chest. She closes her eyes and blows out a shaky breath. She places her other hand over her mouth, her fingers pressed against her lips as she tries to gather herself, her nerves shot at the unexpected kindness and love he’d shown her.

He watches her carefully, his eyes fixed on her face as she sits perfectly still, the watch grasped against her chest and her eyes screwed shut. Anxiety bubbles in his gut and he squeezes her leg, “Sweetheart, if this was a bad idea-”

“I love you,” she says, her eyes flying open as she cuts over him. Tears splash down onto her cheeks as she laughs and shakes her head. She looks at the watch and then back at him, her spare hand cupping his cheek as she drags him into a kiss, “This is…this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me. And I love you so much.”

He smiles and hugs her close, her hand with the watch still clasped in it pressed in between them. He kisses her temple and then her cheek before he tilts her head up to kiss him.

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her again, “I love you.”

She laughs, the sound wet as it sticks in her throat, and he wipes some tears from her cheeks, “Thank you,” she says, the words not feeling anywhere close to enough as she rests her forehead against his, “This is…” she blows out a shaky breath, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I can’t give you the 7 months you lost back,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “And I can’t undo anything you’ve been through,” he wraps his hand around the one holding the watch, “But I can do this.”

She shakes her head at him and rests her cheek on his shoulder, “I love you,” she says again, the words she’d been afraid of saying for weeks suddenly the only thing she could say, slipping past her lips with ease now she’d said them.

“I love you too,” he repeats, running his hand up and down her back. She sinks into his embrace, her eyes closed as she breathes him in.

“I can’t believe Pen didn’t let it slip,” she says as she pulls back, wiping her cheeks, “She’s terrible with secrets.”

He laughs loudly, the sound reverberating around them and he nods, “Well, I think I won’t be so lucky if I get her to help me propose when the time comes.”

She presses her lips together to stop her smile from getting any wider, the thought of marrying him, even this early on in their relationship, not scaring her as she knows it would with anyone else, “I think she might surprise you.”

When they get married 18 months later, Aaron wears her father’s watch, the weight of it against his wrist feeling like a promise as he watches Emily walk towards him.

-x-

I think I might have to add 'watch' to the list of inanimate objects I've made emotional thanks to these two...

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angstywaifu · 2 days

Text

The Lost Sister - Part 24

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Just want to say thank you to all of you who have joined in on this series in the last week. There is so many of you now! Hope you're enjoying it! This week is a smaller one, but I can promise you will not be disappointed with some of the stuff you will find out. Enjoy!

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

It feels like I blink and December flies by. And with it, the return of challenges. We had been given a break around threshing. Giving us time to adjust to our dragons, the new training we had to take up, and any signets that might manifest. Which was probably a smart idea. There were plenty of signets amongst the first years that could have been deadly if they manifested in a challenge where no rules were in play. I hate to think what my signet would have done if it manifested during a challenge.

But now I had the challenge of not using my signet during the challenges. With a classified signet I was restricted in what I could show around the other students. The only place I was technically allowed to use my signet was around Carr. So far he seemed impressed with the progress I was making. Well the progress I was willing to show him. Which so far was moving objects and even him around. Controlling a human was way harder than an object. That night of the attack had seemed so easy, but Carr had informed me due to the situation I had probably delved deep into my power to save myself. I had made that cadet drop that dagger as if it was natural and something I had willed. Carr was a different story. He looked like a puppet. His movements were janky and rigid. I had to remind myself I was also going up against someone who knew how to shield very well. Another thing I would have to learn to break through he told me. Something I would have to practice with Xaden or Garrick in our training sessions after classes. Outside of Carr’s private sessions I now no longer needed to delve into my mind, into that courtyard to focus on someone’s mind and sense what they were feeling. I was starting to pick up on more their strengths, weaknesses and emotions. I was getting small glimpses into their mind. Nothing solid that I could pinpoint what it was, but it was progress. Progress I hoped I could turn into reading opponents intentions. Not that I needed it. Melgren’s training had taught me how to read my opponents movements and stances, to predict what their next move might be. But only time would tell.

As the rest of my squad head to another round of challenges, a round I could tell Violet and Liam were extremely nervous about, I walk through the door to Carr’s classroom. And it’s clear this lesson will be different to the last. Standing in front of Carr is Dain Aetos. The only other cadet in the quadrant with a classified signet. Dain turns as I walk in, his eyes narrowing, clearly not expecting me either.

”Excellent, you received my note.” Carr says with a smile. “You’ve proven you can handle a weapon without any issue so I thought we could use the time to strengthen your signet and test Dain’s.”

Dain turns his head back to Carr, confusion written all over his face. “And how do you expect to test me sir?”

Carr gives Dain one of the smiles that always sends a chill down my spine. “Miss Riorson here has a very very rare signet. The first of its kind. And if the tomes I have studied over the years are anything to go by, she should have a very powerful shield. One so powerful, it should be able to stop anyone from accessing her mind.”

Shit. He planned to see if Dain could access my memories. And if Carr was wrong, Dain would have open reign on everything I know. Everything from the rebellion. Everything from my time with Melgren. And everything that had happened since I had been here. Including the information I now knew about the weapons smuggling and the Gryphon riders. Shit.

Relax. You will be fine. He will not be able to get anything. Mealladh says confidently in my head.

So Carr is right? I ask, relief washing over me.

Yes. You have a very strong shield. Even before I chose you and you manifested your signet. It is one of the reasons I chose you. No one without a dragon or a signet should have a shield as strong as yours. The colonels son wont be able to make a dent in it unless you let him in. Which for you, can be harder than learning to shield for most cadets. You won’t have to do a thing.

Mealladh’s words fill me with confidence as I walk over and drop my bag next to Dain’s on the floor. Carr merely nods at Dain and motions towards me. Signalling to start. Carr had not uttered a word of Dain’s signet. He assumes I don’t know what it is. Probably hoping if he is wrong that I will have no time to stop what is coming. But Xaden and Garrick had known. I assume as those higher up in the Quadrant they had access to the information. I had never asked how they knew. I just knew to avoid his touch. But right now I had no choice. I just had to hope and believe what Mealladh said was true.

Dain turns to me and holds his hands up, hovering either side of my head. He’s nervous. “My signet relies on touch. You ok if i-”

”Just do it.” I tell him sternly, cutting him off.

Dain nods before placing his hands either side of my head, closing his eyes as if needing to focus. But I keep mine open and focused on him. I watch as his eye brows furrow in confusion, as if not expecting what he finds. Or what he doesn’t find. I can feel something faint, very faint at the edge of my mind. The sensation remind me of a feather being dragged across my skin. I hadn’t tried to put my shields up like Melgren taught me. It was like they we’re already there. Already solidified in place. Unbreakable. I feel the sensation again, as if the feather is trying to break through. I can see Dain’s face shift at the effort. As if he is trying to hammer through my shield with great force. But to me, its as if barely anything is happening. I do what Melgren had taught me, slamming up the shield. I watch as Dain recoils as if shocked, his hands leaving my head as his eyes fly open, his chest rising rapidly as he struggles for air.

”I-I couldn’t see anything.” He tells Carr, his eyes still focused on me.

Out of the corner of my eyes I watch Carr smile again. “And let me guess, you tried to put up an actual shield at the end there?” His question directed at me.

I nod. “Yes.”

Even as I keep my eyes on Dain who looks like he is still trying to figure out what happened, I see the joy in Carr’s eyes. The joy at being right. I know as soon as I leave this room he will send word to Melgren of this new discovery. I had no doubt I would be tested against other cadets in the quadrant who bore mental signets. But I knew none we’re as powerful as Dain. The only exception might have been Jeremiah. Could a full innistic penetrate my shields? I would have no way to know seeing as the quadrant killed anyone who manifested that signet.

”Excellent. You are both dismissed. Feel free to head to challenges if you so wish.” Carr says with a flick of his had before turning to his desk and grabbing a roll of parchment. Another note of Melgren.

Dain and I leave the classroom, Dain rushing off towards the challenges. I roll my eyes before following slowly behind him. Maybe I can catch the challenge Liam and Violet we’re so worried about. As I go to round the corner to the gym, a voice in my head stops me in my tracks.

Shit. He’s gonna kill me cause she got hurt. Shit.

A voice that is neither mine nor Mealladh. It sounds almost like-

I round the corner and pacing back and forth is Liam. Liam whose voice I just heard inside my head

Part 25 (coming soon)

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books

#fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x oc #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #xaden riorson

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deliciousdefendorinternet · 3 days

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Honestly this scene is so Heart-breaking and while the Broppy side of it is sweet would it have been so much to ask to at least have Bro zone witness this from the side-lines? I just wish they'd actually fully witnessed how much an impact they had on Branch to the point where even as an adult he questions the person closest to him if she's going to leave him like they did 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 as it still sorta feels like they didn't really grasp the full effect their abandonment and them never returning had on him.

@incurable-bookkl3pt0

plus him saying he didn't need them growing up is sad AF dude literally needed them so bad after Grandma died.

the fact that Bro zone aren't the ones to approach him after this scene is what kills the film for me.

they needed to be the ones to actually make an effort and approach him saying sorry and asking for one more chance either during the climax of the film or afterwards.

Rather than just automatically being given another chance off screen after Floyd is saved.

I kinda Hope at the start of the next special or tv show Branch is back to being somewhat indifferent towards his Brothers.

like not angry again but maybe he just sorta assumed that everything that happened at the end of the last film was due to Heightened emotions because of Floyd nearly dying.

but now that the Honeymoon period is over he just assumed that things would go back to how they were and his Brothers would go their separate ways again so he's kinda just accepted it.

and maybe Poppy points this out to his Bros who were of course oblivious to what he thought and this gives them the chance to actually be the ones to go to him.

and tell him that they do want to stick around in each other's lives for good this time and they properly ask him for another chance

( bonus points if they admit they probably don't deserve it given how they acted before )

and maybe they do actually promise that if he does give them one more chance they won't waste it and let him down again.

IDK I'd just like it if it was made clear that the Bros do Realise their on their last chance with him after everything ya know?

plus I just really want to see them actually be the ones to make an effort and approach him and ask for another chance since the third movie skipped over that part.

but like I said it could still make sense if we have Branch go back to thinking his Brothers being back is just a temporary thing due to saving Floyd and the emotions around that.

so the Bros still need to make the effort to reassure him that their serous about sticking around this time if he'll let them.

#trolls #trolls branch #trolls brozone #dreamworks trolls #branch trolls #trolls band together #branch #trolls dreamworks #brozone #trolls 3 #Trolls #Trolls Branch #Trolls Brozone #Trolls Bro zone #trolls branch angst #trolls brozone angst

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nikethestatue · 7 hours

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Chapter XVI

You Are the One

One time, Elain Marie Paige Archeron had everything she ever wanted. She had love. A love that was pure and clean and genuine. A love that did not ask for anything in return. The kind of love that was true, and kind, and forgiving, and protective. She couldn’t remember a time when she laughed as much as she did in the last three months. She recalled waking up every morning for the past three months and feeling lighter, like there was joy and a promise of good things. Now, in hindsight, she realised that it was because she was in love. But also because she was loved. No one’s ever loved her like that before. No one looked at her in the same way, like she was precious. Like she mattered. Like she was someone’s favourite thing in the world.

Only Elain Archeron did not hold on to that love.

She took it for granted.

She took the man who offered her his devotion and his loyalty and his unconditional, undeniable and passionate love for granted, never thinking that she’d ever lose him.

But she did.

She lost Azriel.

“Remember, darling, that’s nature…simple biology,”

“Daddy, you aren’t going to be talking about how babies are made?” Elain sniffled, half amused, half horrified.

Her father smiled a sad smile and shook his head no.

“You have to remember that it’s the sperm that chases the egg. It’s the man who pursues the woman. Not the other way around. A man will chase and will not give up until he gets that sperm into the egg.”

“Ew, dad!”

“You are a big girl, my pretty rose. You know what I mean.”

Elain considered his words, and as graphic as they were, they also made sense. He was correct.

“Love was invented to make nature more palatable,” he continued, “but biology never changed. It’s still about the sperm and the egg. Therefore, let him chase you. And if he doesn’t, then you’ll know the answer. But never chase a man, sweetheart. It’s his nature, his responsibility and his destiny to chase after a woman.”

She sighed and looked out the window.

It's been almost two weeks and Azriel hasn’t sought her out. The sperm hasn’t chased the egg. Azriel hasn’t chased her at all.

At first, it was just…silence.

For four days, it was silent.

Her texts went unanswered. There were no call backs. She even went old school and sent Azriel an email! And that didn’t get a response either.

She was ready to go all the way to Canary Wharf and be the weird girlfriend who busts into her boyfriend’s home and starts to demand answers.

But he finally messaged her with a one word text: ‘training’. That’s all it said. No apology and no explanation. Not an ‘I am sorry for ignoring you’ or ‘I’ve been swamped with the team stuff’. No, she didn’t get anything other than ‘training’.

And so, Elain had changed her mind about trekking to Canary Wharf and waited. Training would eventually be over and he would be back. He'd return to her. Elain wanted to be an understanding girlfriend, who was going to support her man. She realised that he needed to get back into the groove of the game after his injury and get his body back in playing shape. Therefore, when Saturday came about and Arsenal was playing Luton Town, she dutifully turned on the telly and listened to the pre-game broadcast while Piglet raced upstairs and then came back with his red jersey, tossing it to her and urging her to dress him in it. He already knew what he needed to wear when Azriel was playing, and even though he made a mess in his cubby, turning it out and tossing all the other things on the floor, Elain thought that it was too cute how he got so excited and was behaving like a proper little fan.

They watched the game, with Piglet sitting there, enraptured, and howling happily every time Azriel appeared on the screen. How Piglet recognised him, Elain didn’t know–she once hid under a blanket for 10 minutes, and her pug was wandering around in confusion, looking for her, never thinking to pull the blanket off. But here, he somehow was eagle-eyed and was spotting Azriel among the tiny players on the screen.

While Piglet was innocently happy to watch the game, hopping and rolling around, Elain’s mood was more subdued. She did take a photo of the pug and sent it to Azriel. When the game concluded, and Arsenal had won, she messaged him and said ‘Congratulations! Brilliant game’.

Thanks.

That’s what Eain got in response to her message from Azriel.

Thanks.

Angrily, she waited for more, but nothing else came.

Because if he’d responded, she’d confront him and give him a piece of her mind. What did she do to him?? She was a somewhat reluctant girlfriend, but she had the right to be reluctant. He moved like a freight train, but she was more cautious. Besides, she’s lived through many heartbreaks before and every single man that she’s been with has broken up with her. She never broke up with anyone–all the breakups were initiated by the men. And it looked like the pattern was continuing, unbroken. Azriel was also fed up with her and was breaking up.

That night, after the terse ‘thanks’ Elain closed her bedroom door, so Piglet wouldn’t hear her, and wept.

She wept for herself, for her lost love, for her stupidity.

She cried tears of anger, feeling rage sweep over her, cursing Azriel under her breath, calling him names. She was so angry. Angry at him for making her fall in love with him. Angry at him for making her feel. For having hope. Feelings and hope were things that she long ago placed in a place that she did not access and longed to forget. She hated Azriel Night for making her think that she could be loved, with a passion and devotion that Rhys offered her sister Feyre. She hated him for being even worse than Eris. At least Eris never offered her false hopes–he was what he was and she knew that going in. There would be no sweeping her off her feet by Eris. But Azriel…No, Azriel was gallant and strange. He courted her with ferocious intent and was not shy about showing her, and everyone around them, how much he wanted her. He loved her dog. He cooked for her. He cared for her. He cherished her. He joked, but he never pushed her into an uncomfortable place. She didn’t expect to find him and somehow, he landed on her doorstep. Literally. The old saying ‘it will happen when you least expect it’--well, it happened to her. She didn't expect him to sweep into her life and just overtake her whole existence. Because he did. And she hated him and herself, for allowing him so much power over her. She’d given him everything–her heart, first and foremost, but also access to her home, to her sanctuary and to her family. Even her father had accepted Azriel as an appropriate match for his beloved Elain. Elain was her father’s princess. She was the one he loved the most, and the one who gave him the most worry. He’d been lukewarm on Eris, despite Eris’s title and background. But Azriel–Azriel’d wormed his way into Sir Charles’s heart and Elain’s father came to like Azriel quite a bit.

But he never called.

At some point, while operating like a zombie day in and day out, Elain couldn’t stand it anymore and swallowed her pride and messaged Gwyn Berdara.

She was mentally exhausted, thinking nonstop about Azriel and why he was acting the way he was acting. Unable to bring herself to reach out to him yet again, and receive yet another awful, one word answer, she opted for contacting Gwyn. She had no feelings about Gwyn either way–she’d only met her twice in person, and Gwyn wasn’t memorable enough for Elain to develop a strong opinion about her. But Gwyn didn’t respond to her either. Elain had sent a nonchalant sort of message of: Good morning! How are you? Just checking in to see how things are going with Azriel Night? I didn’t want to bother him as he is training and playing right now, but I am curious about your progress with him?

The message remained unread.

However, Elain Archeron did not need to wait for long to get answers to her questions. They came a day later, courtesy of the Daily Mail.

Another Mystery Woman for the Rackish Lothario?

Azriel Night, Captain of Arsenal, never one wanting for female company, has been spotted at The Devonshire with a new companion.

It seems that only a few months had passed since he was photographed on the streets of London carrying another woman in his arms following an attempted robbery. He’d been previously seen with the beautiful partner, now identified as Lady Elain Archeron, on more than one occasion. Hello Magazine even published a holiday spread of the lovely Archeron sisters and their partners in their Christmas edition. London society is still buzzing over the surprise marriage of Lady Feyre Archeron and Lord Rhysand Darling back in December, and over the budding romance between Lady Nesta Archeron, the Duchess of Velaris and Mr. Cassian Night (Azriel Night’s brother).

By all accounts, the romance between the gorgeous aristocrat and Mr. Azriel Night was going splendidly and he’d been seen leaving her luxurious Russell Square townhouse, and even walking her pug, all through the month of December. However, it seems that their relationship is now on pause.

Mr. Night had been spotted dining at the upstairs restaurant at The Devonshire in the company of another woman. The yet to be named companion and Mr. Night enjoyed Sunday lunch at the Soho hotspot, dining on Roast Rib of Beef, all the trimmings and sticky toffee pudding.

After so many trials and errors, will this one be the one to capture Azriel Night’s heart forever?

He was at The Devonshire on Sunday–the Sunday when it was Elain’s turn to cook Sunday roast. When everyone had come to her house for lunch. And by everyone, she meant–everyone. Rhys. Feyre. Her father. Nesta. CASSIAN. Cassian Night, who introduced her and Azriel, was at her dinner table, eating roast chicken and buttery peas. But his brother, Elain’s boyfriend, was on a date with someone else.

A more awkward lunch couldn’t be imagined into existence, even by a talented writer.

Nesta was seething, smoke coming out of her ears. Cassian looked pained and uncomfortable. Rhys didn’t fare much better.

But it was Piglet who broke everyone’s hearts. He sat by the front door for three hours–waiting for Azriel to arrive. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat. He waited.

And waited.

The whole family was here, and surely his dad would come as well. So he waited. He paced and then he lay on the floor, and he looked at the door, blinking his big brown buggy eyes.

Only Azriel never came.

It was a few days later, when Elain on on break between meetings and arranging dates that her phone lit up with a message. She looked at it and her face dropped.

Gwyneth Berdara

Hi Elain! Things are going well, thank you for asking. How are you?

Elain Archeron

I am well, thanks! Forgive me for bothering you,

Gwyneth Berdara

It’s no bother! I apologise for not responding sooner. I had a presentation to create and it took all my energy and time! 😀

Elain Archeron

I can only imagine. I was just wondering how things are with Mr. Night?

Gwyneth Berdara

We made the Daily Mail. Can you imagine? The one time we had lunch together. I can’t imagine spending all my life being hounded by journos

Elain Archeron

Oh, have you? I wasn’t aware that you were in the paper!

Gwyneth Berdara

😂 😂 I am suddenly a mini celebrity. Haha. I am only joking. But honestly? Don’t laugh, but we are mostly talking about football and working out. And hand to hand combat.

Elain Archeron

You are interested in hand to hand combat??

Gwyneth Berdara

I’ve been studying. Self-defence first, and then I got interested in other things. He is showing me some sicke moves!

Elain Archeron

? Okay. I guess thank you for getting back to me. Let me know how it progresses.

Gwyneth Berdara

Will do. Also I didn’t realise the two of you were so close. He talks about you a lot. I know you were his matchmaker too but it’s like you are his GF or something.

Elain Archeron

Well, no worries. I am not. Thanks. Bye.

Elain was even more confused and upset about things after that bizarre exchange. Also, who used the expression ‘sicke moves’?

Professor Gwyn was into hand-to-hand combat? And Azriel was teaching her ‘sicke’ moves? Elain knew that Azriel was a fighter and grew up rough, but…what?

There was no clarity around what was actually happening between Azriel and Gwyn after all that, and Elain only grew more and more anxious.

Another Sunday.

It was Nesta’s turn to cook and host, however, Sir Charles insisted that his daughters come to his house instead. And for that, Elain was grateful.

She was even more grateful to her sisters, who’d arrived without their men. She knew that they were lying when they said that both Rhys and Cassian were ‘busy’ on Sunday, but nevertheless, she was grateful to them. She didn’t think that she could handle another painfully awkward lunch with the handsome brothers who looked entirely too much like Azriel, and with her grieving pug.

She was seated on the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, her chin resting on her folded hands, as she looked out the window. It was raining. Rain. Rain. Rain. Endless fucking rain.

She barely bothered today–her appearance was sallow and unkempt. She tied her hair in a messy bun, wore a beige jumper and a pair of yoga trousers–attire which was entirely inappropriate for Sunday lunch and not something she’d ever dare leave the house in. But she just couldn't bring herself to care. When the butler opened the door, he stepped back, lack of recognition evident on his face, before he quickly gathered himself and said, “Lady Elain, good afternoon. Please come in.”

Her father, and neither of her sisters comment on her appearance and the maudlin way that she moved around the house, with Piglet trailing behind her, his nose to the ground. No one was surprised when she went to her father’s study and curled up on the sofa, like she did when she was little.

“He’s lost weight,” Sir Charles noted, as he stroked Piglet’s back, while the pug lay unmoving in his lap.

“Two kilos,” Elain said, looking out the window. Expensive cars rolled down the street, taxis and stray pedestrians huddled under their umbrellas. Late January was miserable. Even the warmth of the fire in the marble fireplace didn’t make a difference.

“That’s a lot for a pug,” her father commended. “Is he not eating?”

“He eats, but he doesn’t ask for snacks and mostly he just sits by the door,” Elain answered and wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

“Elain,” he began saying, but she rose up swiftly and rubbed her eyes vigorously.

“I am okay, daddy,”

“No you aren’t,” he said sadly. “No you aren’t”.

She shrugged, like it didn’t matter. And maybe it didn’t. Nothing much mattered.

“Let’s go eat.”

Just then, a knock on the door informed them that lunch was indeed served.

At least life was predictable. Pleasantly predictable here, with her family. There were no treacherous men and no disloyalty.

Feyre and Nesta were already at the table, their expressions worried, even though they tried really hard to act normal.

“Hi Piggy, come here little boy,” Feyre tried to summon the pug, but Piglet didn’t even look at her and just went to his bowl, sniffing disinterestedly at the chicken and rice offering.

Once the wine was poured and the soup was served and the butler left the dining room, Nesta, who’s been clutching at her spoon like she was going to lunge at someone with it, snarled,

“I have to say something,”

“Don’t say anything,” Feyre warned. “Nesta. Don’t.”

“That utter arsehole,” Nesta ignored her youngest sister and clutched at her napkin until her knuckles were white.

Sir Charles winced, knowing that the lunch was about to descend into chaos.

“Girls,” he began with a sigh, but suddenly was interrupted by Elain.

Her voice was monotone and she spoke without inflection, staring straight ahead.

“If I die before Piglet,” she said calmly, while the rest of her family tensed and stared at her with apprehension, “show him my body.”

“Elain,” Feyre gasped. But Elain ignored her and continued,

“Bring him over to my deathbed. Allow him to smell me. He will understand death. He will understand that I was gone and that I would not be coming back. Allow him to mourn me. But do not attempt to spare him the sight of me and my death. He should know that he was not abandoned. He must know that I died, but that I did not leave him. He must understand that unlike others, I did not abandon him. Not like his first family and not like Azriel. He should not be waiting by the door for me to come back. Take him to the funeral and allow him to watch me be lowered into the ground so he understands the finality of it all. He must know that Elain loved him and did not leave him on his own. She was not like Azriel. She never lied to him.”

What Elain had missed the most was the casual intimacy.

As another week passed and January was coming to a close, Elain’s life returned to its natural, if boring routine.

She worked, taking on more clients–thank god for January and ‘resolutions’ and people wanting to couple up–and that took a lot of her time. She was grateful for the distraction, but the nights and the weekends were tough.

Most evenings, she cried herself to sleep, while remembering all the good things that she’d lived through with Azriel. He wasn’t dead, yet the fissure of emptiness inside her chest that was created by his absence really felt like he had died. There was something unsaid and unfinished about them, which bothered her like a toothache. It was a wound which she kept irritating every time she remembered something about him.

How he was so effortlessly sexual with her, and how his relaxed sensuality allowed her to feel free with her own sexuality for the first time in her life. To Azriel, she was beautiful. Always beautiful. Never awkward or chubby or clumsy or strange.

The way he would habitually slap her bum, every time he passed by her. Or pinch it. Or caress it. Or cup it in his large hand. At first it scandalised her. And then, she grew to love it. She grew to expect it.

The way he strutted around after a shower in only a towel wrapped around his hips, showing off his incredible body…goodness gracious! That was something to behold! The way she learned all the details of his form, no matter how insignificant–his tattoos, the shape of his shoulders, the thickness of his biceps, how his neck was a touch too long for his body, but how that made him appear more graceful. She knew exactly how many abdominal muscles he packed–more than six, and definitely eight, and she knew the shape of his long strong fingers. His hair curled slightly in the back of her neck. His hazel eyes had more green in them than brown, and were peppered with black specks. He had perfect toes. The V of his hips could only be called vicious, because it was so sharp and pointed right at his…The one thing Elain never got to see. She never saw his member. Felt it, knew that it was worryingly large and thick, but she never saw it.

She supposed that she always thought that they’d have more time.

She recalled how one time, they were in a restaurant. It was moderately busy and they were seated by the window. It so happened that there was no one at the table in front of them, or by their side. So what did he do? He parted her shirt on her chest, and when she thought that he’d just cop a feel–something he did often and without hesitation–he bared her breast completely and tugged on her nipple, while kissing her lips. She sat there, completely delirious with love and arousal, while he pinched and rolled her nipple in his fingers, while squeezing her bare tit in his palm. Just as the waiter approached, he tucked her back in and acted like nothing happened.

She missed him.

Sometimes, she screamed into her pillow, a long, tortured scream because she…well, she missed him. There was nothing that could replace him in her life.

She loved him. Loved him when they were together, and loved him now–perhaps even more than before.

He rang her.

Once.

It was a day like any other. A blustery wintry afternoon, only 5 pm and already pitch black outside. Though slowly, but surely the days were getting a bit longer. Just a little. It was early February and Elain just changed into her comfy joggers and a sweatshirt having just come back from walking Piglet. He hated being outside, especially when it was cold and drizzling, and thankfully, it was a quick walk and he did his business in record time.

For some reason, it didn’t register with Elain that it was Azriel’s name on the Caller ID.

She’d become so used to his calls and messages that it seemed normal that he’d be ringing her.

“Hello,” she said.

He seemed surprised when he said, “Hi Elain”.

Everything stopped.

The moment she heard that voice, that achingly familiar, smooth, deep voice she felt her hands shake, and her heart beat wildly in her chest.

She threw her phone on the counter as if it burned her and then, with her finger trembling, pressed the ‘speaker’ button.

“Why are you calling me?” she demanded, her voice barely a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away.

“Why?” she asked again, and to her horror her voice was already hoarse and weak, and she sounded strangled. Because there were tears in her eyes and she was hyperventilating.

“How are you?” he asked softly instead.

How was she?

How dare he?

How was she?

She howled like an animal in her sorrow over losing him.

She cried.

She screamed.

She wondered what she'd done and why he just left her without an explanation?

She didn’t eat.

She didn’t sleep or she slept too much.

“Fine. Brilliant. All good,” she laughed a dry, angry laugh. “I am sure you are doing well too, right? How’s Gwyn?”

He sighed, like the sound of her voice pained him.

“I didn’t like the way things ended between us,” he told her somberly, ignoring her question.

“Well, it was your choice, wasn’t it?” she reminded him.

“I suppose?”

It sounded like he wasn't sure.

“What do you want, Azriel?” she demanded.

“How’s Pink?” he asked instead.

“What do you want to hear exactly?”

Did he want to hear about Piglet crying by the door?

Did he want to hear about Piglet avoiding any football on TV and barking violently for her to change the channel if he saw anyone running on a green field?

Did he want to hear about Piglet sitting and waiting for him for hours, day after day, hoping that his dad would show up?

“You abandoned him,” she accused him savagely. “I told you not to make him fall in love with you. I told you not to allow him to get attached to you. I explicitly told you that this would happen if he thought of you as his own.”

“I am sorry,” he whispered brokenly.

“You did it all. You hurt us, Azriel. What do you expect to happen now?” she questioned him, feeling her voice becoming hysterical. “Two brothers and two sisters together at Christmas. A third sister alone. A third brother who used to date the third sister is now with some random woman. Is this your vision? For all of us to play happy families? Like nothing’s happened. Like we didn’t exist. Like what we had didn’t matter??”

“He did matter,” he argued. “It does.”

She ignored him.

“Cassian and Nesta are dating now. Feyre and Rhys are married. Instead of leaving me alone–like I requested, over and over again–you made me fall for you. Fall in love with you. And then you tossed me aside.”

“You love me?” he breathed a shocked gasp.

“What?”

“You said you fell in love with me,”

“You are unbelievable,” she cried out. He was always deranged, but now he was even more incomprehensible. What was wrong with him?

“My dog is screaming any time he sees Arsenal signage. My heart is shuttered. Is that what you wanted?” Elain broke down in tears. “Is that what you wanted?

“I never wanted that,” he argued quietly. “I never,”

“What did you think would happen?” she insisted, sobbing. “That I can just walk away?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice devastated. “It all spiralled out of control…I didn’t want any of this.”

She wasn’t listening to him.

She cried.

Cried for her lost love. Cried for the children she’d never have with him. Cried for the future they’d never have. Cried for not knowing what his perfect day consisted of. Cried for the Christmases they’d never celebrate together again. Cried for his touch and for his kisses and for him next to her in bed. Cried for the games she’d never cheer at. Cried for knowing that she’d never see him snuggling together with Piglet.

She cried and Azriel listened.

She didn’t know how long it lasted–felt like an hour–and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t comfort her, but he didn’t ask her to stop either.

At some point, Piglet came over. He looked up at her, watching her weep, and whimpered sadly, before curling himself at her feet.

“I am sorry, Elain,” Azriel whispered at last.

She quieted down, before telling him,

“I wanted to be your wife, you know. I wanted to build a family with you. I wanted to have your children.”

“I understand. And I am sorry.”

“I wish you happiness, Azriel. Even if you robbed me of mine.”

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #pro elriel #elain #elain x azriel #my fanfiction #A Match Baked In Heaven #my writing #Elriel fanfic #elain and azriel #azriel x elain #new chapter #acotar fanfiction #modern au

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