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plutowrites · 4 months

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𝘼𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣'𝙨 𝘾𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙉𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙨 𝙔𝙤𝙪! (reworked)

important: I rewrote this fic (favorite Levi piece i’ve ever written) because I’ve been planning to do so for ages. I remember writing the original version in one night, and it was the most fun I’ve had writing a fic. I wanted to rewrite it because I knew it could be improved significantly, and in my humble opinion, this version is indeed a million times better! Just like the first time, I had so much fun working on this and making changes to improve the flow, fix typos, and include some extra fluff here and there. If you’ve read this before, I hope you can give it another try! mwahhh ♡

➸pairings: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

➸synopsis: the one where levi gets you as an assistant against his will and it turns out he needed you more than his company ever did

➸genre: enemies-ish (levi is just levi and y/n doesn’t get him yet) to friends to lovers, pining, modern au, fluff

➸contains: lots of sarcasm (Levi), profanity (again, Levi), mentions of food and eating. if there’s anything i missed pls let me know! Also completely sfw btw (as it usually is)

➸wordcount: 5.7k (updated word count)

➸(original) note: ok so I totally forgot Levi’s bday takes place on christmas so just ignore that fact, thank you :) i really hope you guys enjoy this one, i really enjoyed writing it. like a lot. as in this is my favourite piece i’ve ever written ♡

“Prior work experience?” Mr.Ackerman asks, his dark eyes scanning over you like you’re a puzzle he can’t be bothered to solve.

As the question hangs in the air, you find yourself shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. The impulse to talk with your hands, a habit when you’re feeling nervous, fights for release. You can sense mr. stone-face in front of you might not appreciate such animated conversation, or a one-person mime show so you resist the urge. “Well, let’s see,” you start, trying to recall your job history. “I was a sales associate at a retail store, a freelance writer for a few local magazines and websites, a long-term babysitter for three very naughty yet wonderful french children, oh and I briefly worked as a waitress— that was when I was eighteen but—”

The man interrupts you with a dry click of his tongue, his patience clearly wearing thin. “I mean, do you have any experience in this line of work?”

His question catches you off guard, prompting a frown. Isn’t he aware that every job has its messes? You’ve been part of the cleanup crew more times than you can count, and not to mention when you were a babysitter, you had to constantly tidy up after school aged children and the mess that always seems to follow them wherever they go. Whose fault is it that he’s not impressed by your eclectic job history?

Mr. Ackerman pinches the bridge of his nose, cutting through your thoughts, and exhales, “Can you f—cking clean?”

“Of course I can clean,” You snap back, your own patience fraying. “You hired me for this position, right? Besides, I’ve already passed the interview so why this interrogation now?”

Ugh. You were not expecting to get grilled at 8:30 in the morning today. Is this what the onboarding process at Mr. Ackerman’s Cleaning Services looks like?

He looks past you, probably wishing he could swap you with the agreeable plant behind you. “I didn’t hire you, Erwin did,” he clarifies, like that’s supposed to mean something to you. You watch him take a sip from his mug. The way he’s holding the cup intrigues you with his long, slender fingers barely clasping its rim yet he manages it with an effortless grace.

You remembered Erwin during your interview, the handsome blond man with broad shoulders and thick eyebrows. He was the one who asked the majority of the questions while his counterpart remained oddly quiet. Mr. Ackerman did, however, chime in near the end to pester you about how often you washed your hands. You fold your arms across your chest, defensively, “Had no idea you were against the idea of me.”

You remember when you got the position; a quick phone call with Erwin approximately 30 minutes after your interview, where he tells you that you had in fact gotten the job. You felt impressed with yourself. You knew it was the shorter, dark haired man that ran the business, and considering how indifferently he was behaving during the interview, you were already looking at new postings online when your phone rang. Getting the job was like passing a test you thought you had completely bombed.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was against hiring at all; I don’t need an assistant.” His tone is dismissive, yet his physical state—a sling on his right arm and a fracture boot on his left foot—tells a story of necessity, not choice. You want to teasingly ask how the other guy looks but you bite your tongue instead.

Maybe he’ll share what happened to him over time but for now, you won’t pester him about it. Based on this interaction alone, you know asking him such a personal question is not the best route to go. Mr. Sunshine seems like the type of no-nonsense, stick-in-the-mud that doesn’t appreciate a little conversation to make the day’s work go by faster. Unluckily for him though, you were the opposite of that.

“Mr. Ackerman,” you call out his name uneasily, feeling a mix of dread and embarrassment. Your boss had left you alone to retrieve something and in that time he was gone, you had already made a huge mistake. As Levi comes back into the kitchen, you notice his focus is on trying to put on thick, black sterile gloves instead of your blunder.

“Just Levi,” he corrects you without turning to face you. You grow more nervous.

“Okay, Levi…” You draw out his name, hoping it might soften the blow. “Um, where might one find a mop?”

His turn is cinematic, a perfect pivot of disbelief as his eyes land on the ocean of sticky raspberry lemonade—and you, the unfortunate island at its center. The same lemonade the kind owner of the house you were cleaning left out for you two to drink. The jug, now empty and rolling to a stop at his boot, seems to mock you both. He can’t seem to peel his eyes away from it.

“I was gone for five f—cking seconds.” The utter shock in his voice, evident.

“I didn’t peg you as a lemonade type of guy. I can make you some more if you’re that sad about it,” you awkwardly quip, trying to ease the tension in the room and failing, pathetically.

Levi’s response is flat, “You were supposed to help clean up messes, not create—or become them.”

Ouch.

By the end of the shift, Levi ended up doing most of the work which thoroughly impressed you. You’re certain that if he wasn’t limited by his fractured bones, he would cut his cleaning time by, at the very least, half. Still, he completed all the tasks before the client was back and with time to spare at that. Your role, it seemed, was relegated to fetching and carrying— you were simply a mobile extension of his toolkit. Disinfectants, buckets, and other cleaning materials pass from the van to his waiting hand, and your efforts were aimed at being useful, or at least not a speed bump in his way.

Anything Levi could do with one hand and one leg, he’d do it and everything else, he’d at least try. You felt more like a liability than an employee but that only made you more determined to be better next time, you wanted to prove to him that you could actually do your job and be good at it.

You are good at things.

You just needed to mess up a few times first.

Here’s what you know so far about your boss: He’s mastered the art of drinking tea while driving, never spilling a drop, even one-handed. His social circle is super tight-knit, featuring exactly two friends—one being Erwin Smith, who you’ve met already, and the other is Hange, who, from your top-notch eavesdropping skills, seems to bear the brunt of Levi’s scolding.

And lastly, you’ve learned that Levi’s vocabulary is dripping with colorful language.

“That’s not clean,” comes his voice from behind you, prompting an eye roll before you shove the plate back under the running faucet. A half-hearted swipe with the sponge and a too-forceful toss into the sink’s other side result in a loud clash. “Dirty and probably f—cking broken now, too,” Levi comments, sounding bored.

“Sorry,” you mutter. This marks the first time today he’s felt the need to correct you—a personal victory. You’ve been improving, receiving fewer icy critiques with each passing day. Maybe Levi’s just run out of energy for constant corrections, or perhaps he’s grown accustomed to your unique… flair. Either way, you’re grateful for the silence.

“You’re done, brat. Go home.”

“Don’t you need help with the counters?”

“I got it.”

You nod at this, turning off the water and drying your hands on the apron’s front-pocket towel, relief washing over you as the day wraps up. You can’t help but wonder what Levi does after hours—probably waits for you to leave so he can meticulously re-clean everything. But, you figure, if he really doubted your skills that much, he wouldn’t bother waiting for your exit to do it.

“Good job today.”

Levi’s words catch you off-guard, nearly causing you to gasp. The Levi Ackerman, offering praise? Have you smelled too many cleaning solutions? Are you imagining things?

He doesn’t see your shocked expression, your mouth hanging open in surprise. You quickly stifle a smile.

Maybe, working with Levi Ackerman won’t be the nightmare you had anticipated.

It was uncommon for the Ackerman company to have a client that requested cleaning services for any place other than their home but on some rare instances, the business would get one that would request Levi for a much larger setting.

Today, you two were cleaning hotel rooms.

“I take it this isn’t your first rodeo,” you comment, noting how Levi, despite being down to just two operational limbs, zips through tasks with astonishing speed. Your job is to vacuum the ugly, vomit green carpet, while Levi single-handedly makes the queen beds look pristine—a feat that seems Herculean.

He signals you over, instructing you to strip the beds so he can check for bedbugs. “I’ve cleaned here before, yes,” he says with a frown, urging you to lift the mattress higher. “No, higher. Y/n. Higher. Are you making fun of my height?”

“No!” you protest, but the smirk on your face betrays you. You could swear you see the corners of Levi’s mouth twitch in response. This is the first time you’ve ever seen your boss smile.

Kenny Ackerman, Levi’s uncle, is the polar opposite—always grinning and brimming with charm. His visits, armed with homemade lunches for Levi and flirty comments for you, are a welcome break from the norm. Levi, one time catching you staring at the lunch Kenny brought in a brown paper bag, admits his uncle started bringing food over when he first got hurt.

“Is Ken really your uncle, or more like a family friend uncle?“ You inquire as you both move to the next suite, settling into a comfortable work rhythm. Levi seems unfazed by your curiosity, which you’ve piqued frequently over the past few weeks.

He ignores your question but raises an eyebrow at you, “Ken?”

You press on, asking if Kenny might be a close friend of his dad’s, given their dissimilar appearances. Levi’s reaction to the mention of his father is a clear signal to change the subject.

"Fluff the pillow on your side, brat,” he instructs next.

You’re not sure what constitutes fluffing but you attempt to do so anyway by gently pressing down on the soft pillow. You can feel the heat of Levi’s glare torching you but when you look up at him, he looks sort of amused. “What palace were you raised in?”

“Huh?”

“Let me rephrase that then—do you not know what fluffing a pillow is?”

“I just did it!”

“No. What you did was give that pillow a shitty massage. Give it to me.” After you hand it to him, Levi aggressively demonstrates what he wants you to do but it looks awkward because he’s doing it with one arm. “F— ck,” he curses under his breath. “Maybe I should hire an assistant for this shit.”

You can’t help but smile, recognizing this interaction for what it is—Levi’s way of opening up. These past weeks have shown you that his gruff exterior hides a form of friendly banter, warming you from the inside out whenever you get to experience it.

You’ve actually begun to look forward to Levi’s humour.

Odd.

You have got to stop staring and you know this. It’s just whenever he’s preoccupied with something and his concentration is laser focused, you can’t keep your eyes off him. You’ve convinced yourself that this was the safest way you could be semi-creepy and so far, it’s proven to be effective.

Right now, he’s on a very urgent and pressing phone call, at least that’s what it looks like to you. Just the mere thought of Levi taking notice of you gawking at him from above through a crack in the curtains is enough to send you spiralling. And yet here you are…still…

“Y/n, you’re staring.”

Shit.

Thankfully, it’s Erwin who catches you, not Levi. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you scramble for an excuse. “No, I w-wasn’t. I was j-just—”

Erwin’s laughter cuts you off, deep and rich. “It’s fine. I stare at him all the time. The difference is he doesn’t cuss you out the way he does me.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What do you mean? You think he’s noticed me staring?” You sneak another glance at Levi, who’s now expressing his disdain for the caller, blissfully unaware of your current predicament.

“Most definitely. And his silence on the matter is telling,” Erwin says with a reassuring smile. But his words leave you more curious than comforted. What does Levi’s silence mean? He continues, “It’s his birthday tomorrow since I know he wouldn’t dare tell you. Do what you wish with that information.”

As if he had a special sixth sense that alerted him that he is the topic of discussion upstairs, Levi waltzes into his office and squints with suspicion at the two of you huddled in a hush-hush conversation. “Oi, eyebrows. Don’t you have a vulnerable citizen to harass for their vote somewhere?”

Erwin shakes his head as he laughs. Looking at you, he says, “Don’t listen to him. I’m not a dirty politician.”

“You’re definitely dirty, get off my chair.”

One thing you wonder about when you see these two in action is how they ever became friends. They aren’t exactly drowning in similarities or mutual interests but you couldn’t deny that there is a deep-rooted respect that goes further than what you’re able to decipher. You do know that Erwin owns the entire building and he lets Levi rent office space and storage rooms here but you question which came first: the business relationship or the friendship?

“Before I head out,” Erwin turns to face you, “I can count on your vote, right? For the upcoming election?” He asks, raised eyebrows and all. The surrounding air is filled with his scent. His woodsy cologne is thick but pleasant—it suits him.

Before you’re able to answer, Levi cuts you off, “My office is not a breeding ground for your pathetic campaign efforts.”

“My building.”

“F—ck off.”

You smile at their banter— their exchange is a familiar dance, one you’ve grown accustomed to observing. But your thoughts are elsewhere, pondering Levi’s upcoming birthday. You’re grateful Erwin mentioned it; he’s right, Levi would never share that information himself.

You find yourself wanting to do something for him— maybe get him a gift? What started off as a hostile, awkward work relationship has blossomed into a real friendship and you would never let a friend’s birthday go by without doing a little something special for them.

Levi also is a great boss, who deserves a birthday treat.

Perhaps there’s more to your admiration than you’re willing to admit quite yet.

Arriving at Levi’s office early in the morning, you’re greeted by the sight of him on his laptop, deeply engrossed in his work, his fingers flying across his keyboard. The morning light catches in his dark hair— the sun rays highlighting his intense gray-blue eyes. You can’t help but be captivated as he brushes his hair back with a weary hand. You lose your mind when he does that; he’s blissfully unaware of how mind-blowingly attractive he is.

You linger in the doorway awkwardly, feeling suddenly out of place, reminiscent of a child caught in a mischievous act. When Levi finally notices you, his sigh fills the room. “It’s your day off.”

Taking his acknowledgment as an invitation, you step inside, cheerfully reminding him, “It’s your birthdaaaay,” your voice in a tune.

Almost immediately he retorts,“Exactly why I gave you a day off. A treat for me.”

You ignore him. “I wanted to take you out for breakfast.”

“I don’t pay you that much,” he scoffs, still tapping away on his keyboard.

He’s wrong, Levi pays you more than you’ve ever been paid in your life, even more than when you were working at that super pretentious magazine that bragged about how well they treated their employees. Turns out their idea of spoiling their staff was a pizza party every third Sunday of the month. It was pitiful. Levi Ackerman believes in a living wage. Levi Ackerman is a good man.

“Sit down, will you? You’re stressing me out just standing there,” he says, his eyes softening at you for a moment, allowing you a glimpse of his gentler side.

With a sheepish grin, you pull up a chair, the noise seeming to amplify in the quiet office. You quickly apologize for the disruption, settling into the seat across from him.

“We can grab something to eat once I’m done with a few things. Is that okay with you, princess?”

“Anything for you, birthday boy,” you respond warmly, beaming at him.

He veils his amusement with a face of semi-disgust, “Vile.

“You know, when someone says they want to take you out for breakfast, there’s usually a time limit involved.” It’s now 12:03 pm, and your patience, though thinly stretched, hasn’t snapped—yet. Levi’s gaze softens, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes. Rushing to lighten the mood, you add, “I’m kidding. I’m more of a brunch person, anyway.”

“And what about my preferences?” His voice, gentle and distant, pulls at something inside you.

“Of course, it’s your birthday,” you remind yourself aloud, tapping your fingers against the edge of his desk. “So, what do you like, Levi?”

The pause before he answers is loaded, his look implying you ought to know his preferences by heart. “I like silence when I work,” he finally says.

Right. You nod and mime locking your lips, leaning dramatically back in your chair, only to find yourself fighting off sleep shortly after.

“Time to wake up, princess. I have a task of royal importance for you,” Levi’s low, velvety command has you instantly alert. “You’re going to answer all my texts. They’re birthday wishes; just read them out and reply.”

Grinning at the trust he’s placing in you, you take his phone and start sifting through the messages. “Wow, didn’t peg you for Mr. Popular,” you tease. Levi rolls his eyes and then urges you to continue, unfazed.

Your eyes widen as you encounter messages from unexpected senders. “Uhm, I see some local celebrities in here. Wanna explain, Levi?"

“Just friends. And mind your business,” he grumbles.

Reading a message from Hange aloud, you watch his reaction closely. “Happy birthday, shortstack. I promise I’m not planning anything extravagant for you but just so we’re on the same page, define extravagant winky face,” you echo their playful tone.

“You’re smiling,” you point out, unable to resist.

“Hange’s full of it. Skip that one,” he dismisses, though his brief grin tells another story.

As the day stretches into evening, with work piling up and plans going awry, you can’t help feeling a mix of disappointment and defeat. Was this the universe’s way of suggesting you rethink your interest in Levi?

“I’m sorry,” Levi finally breaks the silence, noting the time—6:17 pm. Your attempt to brush off the day’s letdown with a smile doesn’t fool him.

“I’m sorry you had to spend your birthday in an office,” you shrug.

“It’s not about my birthday, I just hate making you wait,” he says, sincerity lacing his words.

You try to wave it off, “Water under the bridge.”

He surprises you then, “Can I take you out to dinner?”

“It’s your birthday,” you protest, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he quips, his signature dose of sarcasm in his voice.

“The whole point of me coming here was to take you out Levi!”

He sighs while standing up. Reaching for his coat, which had spent the day forgotten over his chair, he juts his chin towards the door. “Fine. So take me out then.”

You had pegged Levi for the type to frequent pretentious, overpriced restaurants — the kind that serves a single asparagus spear drizzled with truffle oil and charges a fortune. So, when he mentioned knowing a place for dinner just a couple of streets over, you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Despite dressing decently for Levi’s birthday, you weren’t in anything particularly fancy. And Levi, always impeccably dressed as if he were campaigning for office alongside Erwin, would surely fit in anywhere he chose. You remind yourself to relax; after all, it’s just dinner.

“I hope you like Indian food,” Levi says as you reach the destination. He holds the door open for you, the gentleman that he is at heart. You didn’t just like Indian food; you adored it, savored it every chance you got.

“Yeah, I don’t mind it,” you shrug casually, trying to mask your excitement.

Once seated by a friendly teenage waitress, you take in the ambiance of the restaurant. It’s a cozy, bustling hole-in-the-wall, filled with lively conversation and vibrant energy. It’s loud enough to make you reconsider Levi’s alleged preference for silence. If he can enjoy his time in a place like this, he can surely handle your occasional chattiness at work.

“This is a cute little place,” you admit, taking in the bright decor and the charming, unlit lanterns on each table.

“Family-owned too,” Levi grunts, passing you a menu.

You beam at him, “I like that.”

After ambitiously ordering nearly everything on the menu, eager to sample the array of dishes, you start bombarding Levi with questions. “Have any siblings?”

“No, and you’ve already asked me that before. Running out of questions?” he teases.

“Pets?”

“No.”

“Are you in a relationship?”

He chokes on his water, fixing you with a stern look. “Y/n.”

“What? You know I’m nosy. You should be prepared by now,” you lean in, undeterred by his reaction, “Have you ever been in a relationship?”

“Yes.”

“Are you in one right now?”

A beat passes. “No."

His hesitation sparks your curiosity further. "But you hesitated. Why did you hesitate, Levi?”

“Holy shit—” He’s cut off as the waitress returns, skillfully balancing the array of dishes you’d ordered. You offer her an apologetic smile, silently vowing to tip generously for the trouble.

As the tantalizing aromas of the dishes fill the air, you resist the urge to dive in immediately, mindful of the impression you want to leave on Levi. However, his encouragement, “Eat. You’re not fooling anyone,” paired with your enthusiasm for the rogan josh placed directly in front of you, quickly shatters any pretense of sophistication.

“Shut the hell up,” you gasp between bites, your initial reservations forgotten in favor of savouring the delicious food.

“Oi, slow down. You’ll choke,” Levi warns, amusement lacing his voice.

“This is so good, Levi,” you manage to say, your expression one of pure delight.

He chuckles to himself, looking away as he does so. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him laugh like that. You study his face, wishing you could capture this moment in a recording so you won’t ever forget it. It’s fine, you think to yourself. You just have to memorize the sound of his laugh and live off of it forever.

Eventually Levi says, “Why don’t you try this one too,” he pushes the plate of lamb biryani over to you, patiently waiting for you to take some.

This has to be your love language—sharing food.

You’re so happy you never want to leave this table, or Levi. Mostly, Levi. And this biryani.

“Do you like your job?” His question startles you. It came out of nowhere.

You swallow your food. “I do.”

Cocking your head to the side, you watch as he struggles to find the right words to use to form his questions. His eyes lock with yours and this time they stay there. “I’m not too…overbearing?” he asks, gently. Almost shyly.

“You’re the perfect amount.”

“Are you happy?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Levi Ackerman, owner of Ackerman’s cleaning services?”

“That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do.”

“I’m happy working. I’m actually happiest working with you,” you admit, heat rising to your cheeks. Levi doesn’t say anything but you read something on his face. Relief? Maybe.

Eventually you realize it was Levi looking pleased with your answer.

“Cleaning is an honorable job,” you say after Kenny has left. He had made some stupid joke about Levi’s work despite how popular and very needed his services are.

“Y/n, quit it. Seriously. I don’t give a shit.”

“No, I know. I do, I just…” You take a deep breath in and turn to face him. He’s wearing his usual scowl on his face—the curve of his mouth slightly turned downward and his nose is scrunched up the tiniest bit. You could just about kiss that wrinkle between his eyebrows away if he’d let you. Smiling, you finish, “I just wanted you to know.”

“I enjoy spending time with you.”

You feel your stomach perform its now-famous acrobatics, seemingly attempting to tie itself in knots. Laughing nervously, you manage to say, “That’s good because we do spend a lot of time together. It would be awkward if you didn’t like me, right?”

Levi exhales deeply, a sign you’ve missed the mark. “You’re not getting it. With other people, I’m always on edge, wondering if I’m being friendly, engaging, or polite enough. Constantly checking if my permanent resting scowl has scared someone off again. It’s exhausting. People drain me, but the ones who don’t… I prefer to keep them close.”

“So, you’re saying you want me around indefinitely?” you push, hope coloring your tone.

“I’m saying thank you. You—” he stops himself when he catches you hanging onto every last word coming out of his mouth, waiting for the rest. He rolls his eyes a little bit which makes you smile even harder.

“Yeah?” You pester him, not willing to let the moment pass.

“Nothing.”

“Say it.”

“F—ck off.”

Undeterred, you flutter your eyelashes in a playful, last-ditch effort. “Please? I’d really love to hear what you were about to say.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he relents. “You make it okay to be myself.”

You laugh, “Levi, I don’t think you’re aware of how okay you are.”

He smiles the tiniest bit, “Charming.”

“No, you know what I mean. You’re obviously more than okay!”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, beginning to walk away but not without leaving his hand lingering in the air behind him—a silent invitation to grab onto it. If there’s anything you look out for, it’s the opportunity to touch Levi and in this case, to hold his perfect hand in yours. You follow him as he leads you back to that restaurant he first took you to.

“Have you guys kissed yet?” Hange leans towards you, excitedly waiting for your response. You catch Levi’s eyes on you from across the room but lately, they seem to always be on you. He’s pretending to be engaged in a way too animated conversation with Erwin and his politician buddies. Poor guy.

“Please, we’re not even a thing yet,” you snort, waving away the ridiculousness of the question.

“Okay, well, does Levi know that you’re not a thing? Because he already bought matching stuff for you at his condo.”

“What? really?”

Hange lists the items: cat mugs, slippers, and even matching gloves.

“He’d have a fit if he knew you spilled this top secret info,” you say, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Hange waves off the potential threat to their well-being with a scoff. “Oh, he’d definitely kill me. But it was too juicy not to share,” they wink, leaving you grinning from ear to ear.

You were finally at Levi’s impeccably clean and tidy place and you have to stop yourself from looking around for all the things Hange mentioned earlier. You’re sitting in the living room, on his comfortable green couch while Levi is making you a cup of tea in the kitchen. You wonder if he hid the matching mugs in the back of his cabinet. When will he think it’s an appropriate time to show them?

Or.

What if they weren’t even for you—what if there was someone else in his life he’s willing to be all matchy-matchy, cutesy-cutesy with?

Levi eventually comes out with two non-matching mugs; one for you and one for him. You feel a little disappointed when you see them but you swallow it down. “I should’ve been the one making the drinks. I’m not the one who’s injured.”

“Please, you watch me mop floors and wipe windows on one foot without ever offering to help. I even catch you smirking sometimes.”

You bite back a grin. “Hey!” You shout. He’s not entirely wrong but you know he would never let you intervene with his little tasks like mopping the floor or wiping down windows— they were therapeutic acts to him. What kind of monster would take that away from a man? Exactly.

“I hope you’re not completely traumatized by that gathering. I needed you there, I wouldn’t have been able to survive it without you.”

“I’m glad to be your knight in shining armor tonight,” you tease, taking the cup of tea from him and turning your body towards his. “Does Erwin usually host stuff like that?”

Levi sends you a look. “Always. And of course I had to choose a f—cking politician to be friends with.”

You chuckle, “Between Erwin, Hange, and me, you’re good to never have another social interaction for the rest of your life.”

He laughs out through his nose, similarly to how a dragon would breathe fiery flames out its nostrils. “I must be some extrovert magnet.”

“You are! Even with that permanent scowl on your face.” Your beautiful, beautiful face, you want to add. “Levi Ackerman, you are a prize. The prize.”

His eye-roll is theatrical, but you catch a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Are we a thing?” you ask gently, after some time.

“A thing?” He repeats after you, quietly.

“Like, you know,” you bite your lip. This could potentially be a dumpster fire of a conversation. Awkward and embarrassing depending on how he responds. “—like a couple.”

He sets down his cup on the coffee table, probably sensing the seriousness of the moment, and you do the same. “We can be.”

Oh okay, not the worst possible answer there is.

“Do you like me?”

He looks as if you just stabbed him, or more like you stabbed his mother in front of him and he had to watch in horror. “I’m going to be honest, y/n, i’m kind of f— cking devastated you’re asking me this.”

“I can’t ask?”

“No, it’s just… Shit.” His eyes dart frantically between you and the floor, a clear sign of the turmoil within. It’s evident he’s wrestling with a multitude of thoughts, and all you yearn for is a glimpse into even just one of them. After a tense few seconds, he straightens up and meets your gaze directly, a pained expression etched across his features. “I’m upset at the fact that you’re walking around not knowing that I like you— and the fact that you even have to ask? That there’s any doubt about my feelings for you?” He pauses, taking a deep breath before he adds, “I’m sorry. Yes, I like you. I’m upset at myself that I didn’t make myself very clear about how I feel about you before. I’m sorry.”

You can feel your eyes beginning to burn and you don’t even know why you’re about to cry. You just wanted Levi to like you, so, so much.

The realization that you’re panicking both internally and visibly prompts you to stand, aiming for a quick escape. "This is good. Okay. So, I’ll see you at work tomorrow morning?”

Levi chuckles at your abruptness, “Yes, you will, but could you maybe not try to flee the scene?”

“I have to go,” you insist, though your feet betray you and show no intention of moving.

“F—cking hell. You planning an escape route?” Levi raises his eyebrows.

“I’m not escaping…” you confess, surprising even yourself.

“Then sit,” he commands gently, softening it with a, “Please?”

“I’m so nervous. Stop making me nervous.” You blurt out but decide to sit down anyway. The way he’s staring at you like you’re bonkers out of your mind right now is enough to make you burst into laughter. You snort against the back of your hand. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Can’t make you nervous, can’t look at you. Is there anything I can do? Should I turn around and face the wall?” He mocks you, lovingly. His tone doesn’t say it but his eyes do. Everything he does to you is with love. No wonder you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

“You do realize you’re my boss, right?” you giggle, a sound so foreign to you. “I haven’t giggled like this since middle school. What’s happening to me?”

Levi beams at you, “Great, just what I needed, a subordinate with a crush. Now I have to navigate office politics, power imbalances, get HR involved…”

He pulls you onto his lap.

Your arms wrap tightly around Levi’s chest from behind him, as you rest your chin in the nook of his neck. He’s writing an email to someone, as he usually is during this time of the day.

Jokingly you ask, “When are you going to promote me, huh?”

“I did promote you,” you can hear the smile in his voice. He stops his typing to bring your hands to his mouth. He peppers them with a thousand pecks.

“Employee to girlfriend does not count”

“Shit,” he mock curses, then grins at his screen which you catch in its’ reflection.

“I have another question,” you announce, sensing an opportunity to delve into one of the many mysteries surrounding your lover.

“You always do,” he shoots back without missing a beat, fingers resuming their dance across the keyboard.

“Very funny.” You roll your eyes before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his neck, savouring the coolness of his skin. “But seriously, honey. You never did tell me how you managed to break your arm and leg.”

written 2021, reworked 2024

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot x reader #aot imagines #attack on titan fanfiction #levi x you

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morning-sun-brah · 1 year

Text

Below is my TMNT Master List, but I have some thoughts I wanted to make sure were apparent since this post is pinned!

So! Thoughts/rules of engagement for this blog.

- Saying hello is always great! And asks are fine too! That said, I cannot promise I will always respond, nor that I will write anything for an ask. It’s gonna have to really speak to me.

-I write a lot of smut! I am a whole adult! Anything I write with explicit content is between consenting adults and will be tagged as such. PLEASE DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU ARE A MINOR. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG! If you are here for the Rise/HP Crossover, follow my secondary blog that is SFW, here!

- Pro BLM, LGBTQIA+, Woman/Feminism.

-This blog is pro LGBTQIA+ and will not tolerate any homophobia or terf talk. Period. Easiest way in the world to get a block is if I see even a hint of terf leanings from a person engaging over here. I am currently in the midst of a Rise/HP Crossover and we are UNKIND to the original author. If you share any of JK's opinions concerning the validity of Trans Women and Men, this blog isn't for you! Anything HP related I highly recommend you steal. Do not give that monster any of your money.

🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢

TMNT Master List!

So, I'm not sure that I have *quite* enough works to justify this, but I'm gonna do it anyway and just keep adding to it! Fic's are linked under the cut!

*The turtles are all adults in the NSFW fics*

🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢🐢

Rise TMNT:

When I Say Forever NSFW, Leo x Reader

Nothing to Say SFW, no romantic pairing, Leo and Casey, angst

Thick Thighs Save Lives- Part 1 NSFW, Donatello x Reader

Thick Thighs Ruin Lives- Part 2 NSFW, Donatello x Reader

Thick Thighs Attract Eyes- Part 3 PREQUEL! SFW(ish), Donatello x Reader

Thick Thighs No Lies- Part 4 NSFW, Donatello x Reader

Worth the Wait NSFW, Leo x Reader, fits into the Thick Thighs Storyline but can be read as a standalone

A Romantic Comedy, Starring Leo Splinterson SFW(ish)- (cursing, mild description of medical procedures, some angst), Leo x OC, any smut will be presented as one shots, multi-chaptered, ongoing

On a Scale from One to America NSFW(ish), Leo x Reader, Entry for the All 4-1 Challenge, I chose the prompt; Reader continually uses TERRIBLE pick up lines on your choice of turtle, trying to drop the hint.

Send it NSFW, Tactical!Donnie x Spotter! Reader, inspired by all of @donathan's tactical art- go and follow them!

Once More, With Feeling (Tactical Donnie Part 2!) NSFW Tactical!Donnie x Spotter! Reader

And They Were Thick Thighed Lab Partners NSFW, Donnie x Reader, A collab with the fantastic @buthowboutno! It... it might be an April Fool's fic. BUT, if you stick with the cringe, there's real smut towards the end lol. ALSO!! There is a podfic! You can listen to it here!

Silk NSFW, Mikey x Male OC, Long hair Mikey and his journey from enemies to lovers.

Marked NSFW, Donnie x Reader, A gift for @unknownfanartist. Eventually will have a second chapter. Hate sex with a little bit of feelings at the end.

Hunger Pains NSFW, Donnie x Reader, A gift for @unknownfanartist. Donnie enjoys his favorite meal.

Spare Change NSFW, Donnie x Kendra (Kendratello), Complete, 2 chapters.

RISE! COWBOY/WESTERN AU (ongoing);

This is a series that was SUPPOSED to be a two-chapter fic about Donnie robbing a train. It is... no longer that.

Flight of the Dove NSFW, Donnie x OC, COWBOY/OLD WEST AU. The series is currently ongoing. Companion art is done by the absolute gem that is @unknownfanartist

The Pigeon's Perch NSFW, Leo x OC, COWBOY/OLD WEST AU. The series is currently ongoing. Companion art is done by @gemini-forest

Of Starlings and Sparrows NSFW, Raph x OC (OC is owned by @beckerboopin), COWBOY/OLD WEST AU.

art by @unknownfanartist

RISE! HARRY POTTER CROSSOVER AU (ongoing);

Until I Reach You Again, a ROTTMNT/Harry Potter Crossover, Collaborative Work with @alycornz, and @stormy-nyx SFW- (cursing, mild canon typical violence, general unkindness for JK Rowling because she is a terrible human).

Bay! TMNT:

This will probably have ~more~ because I do love these boys.

Like You Mean It NSFW, Raphael x Reader, A gift for @turtle-babe83 and a "tumblr exclusive" Whoo!!

03 TMNT:

Aaaalllll the way back on 2007 I wrote a Reader x OC fic. It was finished, but since it's 16 years old the plan was to re-write it on AO3 and make it less terrible. It is a slow process and it may not even happen considering how fixated I am on the rise-verse atm, but if you wanted to cringe you could find it on ff net. Either way, the one I am updating is linked below!

A Light in the Dark NSFW (eventually), Raphael x OC

#rise of the tmnt fanfiction #leonardo x reader #rise leo x reader #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt x harry potter crossover #rise of the tmnt harry potter crossover #fanfiction #donatello x reader #03 tmnt #03 raphael x reader #raphael x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2k3 #2k3 ninja turtles fanfiction #pwp #rottmnt fanfiction

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jamneuromain · 6 months

Note

Hello, beauty! Congrats on your follower milestone 🥳

A prompt for you: Ransom + 😌😏

Hi Siri😌❤️

Thank you for your love and support :3

ksjsjskskskks 😏 ←that lil smirk is so Ransom! Hoe-kay, for this I present to you:

Payback Time

Ransom Drysdale x Reader (you)

Summary: Ransom is getting his payback for you, public enemy No.1.

Warning: Step-cest tendency (Cousin!Ramson x Cousin!Reader), not blood related, they are both grown-ups, Ransom is being vengeful, Harlan is very much alive.

Harlan is going to kill him.

Not now, obviously, but when Harlan finds out about what he is doing to you.

Harlan is going to murder him and write this story into a book.

But it doesn't matter. Ransom hums in content, snuggling further under the covers, sighing due to the warm and softness of the bedding.

That old man grows fond of you by day, ever since you came to this mansion on your own with a suitcase of books and clothes. Ransom huffs in annoyance. If there's one thing he cannot stand, is a random person (aka you), materializing out of thin air, completely unrelated by blood or marriage, and sets out to snatch a portion of Harlan's property.

According to the old man, you were the daughter of the adoptive child from Harlan's sister. His sister took care of your mother as her own, and before both of them died of illness, Harlan's brother in-law kicked you out of the house. Which is why Harlan's sister called before your arrival, asking her brother to take care of you. While Harlan and his sister wasn't on best terms when she married her husband, Harlan was far too kind and agreed for you to stay as long as you wish, paying off your college loan and medical bills that his brother in-law kicked out of the house along with you.

You are a pre-med student in your junior year, which means getting up early and going to bed late, spending few hours in the mansion. Even so, you manage to find the time, either learning how to take care of Harlan like Marta, or chatting with Harlan and play chess.

Ransom huffs again, not only were you a kiss-ass, but also stupidly quick learner at chess - Harlan asked Ransom to play against you one night, and you won. But only out of sheer dumb beginner's luck.

So, he's getting his payback.

Ransom tightens the thick duvet around his body - his almost naked body, and listens carefully to the soft creaking in the stairs.

He knows it's you, with your cautious steps up the screeching floor, while you don't want to wake any living soul in this house at 11:30 pm, dragging your tired ass - you have a good ass, by the way - up two floors, and rest in the room, which apparently became yours rather than his, even though every family in this house knows this room was originally his, and that Harlan asked Fran to clean up his room, RANSOM'S ROOM, for you, which Harlan announced that it would make you feel more like home if you were not living in one of the guest rooms.

Oh, so Ransom will feel more like home if he lives in one of the guest rooms when he drops by every holiday?

Harlan is probably charmed by you, some voodoo shit, or drugged by that idiot-brain Marta.

He holds his breath and closes his eyes, pretending to be sound asleep, as the door squeaks open, leading to your small gasp.

"Ransom!" You hiss in the smallest voice you manage, "Ransom! What are you doing in my bed?!"

After he yelled at his mother, calling her an "old hag", changed the lock to this room, and cut holes in your sweater, you know he wants his room back.

Not that you intend to sabotage his plans, being a guest in this household, how on earth can you give the room to him when Harlan has specifically told you that he would find a way for Ransom to stop bothering about which room belongs to whom?

"Ransom!" You hiss again, "I can see your body trembling under the covers! I have a class at eight and I need to sleep!"

Smiling brightly, Ransom pulls the cover down, revealing his - almost - naked body.

"Ransom!" You cover your eyes with a squeal, "Are you- Why- You are naked!"

"Come on, Cousin. You wanna tell me that you are not interested in this?" He gestures down his body as if displaying an exhibit. Cocking an eyebrow, he challenges your sanity with every word that comes out of his mouth, "One good fuck in exchange for my room?"

Silence. Dreadful silence fills the room.

Ransom has that annoying smirk up on his lips, looking down at his grey boxers, "...no? Shame." He swings the thick cover back on, muttering to himself, "Okay. Nevermind. I guess I will just ... enjoy this soft cushy bed on my own..."

"Hugh Ransom Drysdale!" You tear the heavy duvet from his body, "GET OUT OF MY BED!"

Okay fine. He looks like a living Adonis with his abs and biceps. So what?

You avoid looking at his God-like body and his eyes, whisper-yelling, "Get off or I swear I will wake up everyone in this house and tell them about how awful you are!"

Ransom yawns, completely oblivious to your weak threat, which he knows it is the last thing you will do - make a fuss about your living condition in front of all these Cold-blooded creatures.

"Ransom!" You huff at his attempt of grabbing the duvet, "If you insist on taking up my bed, at least you can tell me where the empty guest room is."

"Nope." Answers Ransom, popping the "p" between his wickedly seducing lips, "You got two options here. The floor," he points at the small space between the mahogany desk and the four-posters, "or here." He pats on his bed - wait that's your bed! - softly, "With me."

You clutch the edge of your sweater tightly, a small movement that did not missed Ransom's eyes.

"Or good luck finding Franny in this god forsaken house and 'waking up everyone' to tell them about how I mistreated my cousin." Ransom grins, "So, what do you think?"

It doesn't surprise Ransom when you take the duvet completely and roll up some of your clothing for a makeshift pillow on the floor. You are too tired to argue and too scared to disturb a family you barely know.

You turn off the light and lie down on the ground without another word.

... he may have gone a little too far.

His heart skips a beat when he hears a soft sigh of yours. Why should he feel weird about this? You are the one who is about to be part of Harlan's will and snatch Harlan's adoration. Taking up your bed - his bed, whatever whose bed seems childish. It bothers you, sure, but he never wanted for you to sleep on the ground.

Christ, why couldn't you be a kiss-ass for him like how you treat Harlan? That way he'd feel much more comfortable about making you sleep on the cold, hard, creaking floor - ugh!

Ransom cannot bear the thought any longer of you sleeping on the ground, which is why he gets up from the bed, swings his sweater and pants over his shoulders, and kicks your foot condescendingly, "Your bed sucks." Before strolling out of the room, stepping on the staircases loudly so the entire house could hear.

You suck. He thinks, setting foot on the creakiest spot he could find for these wooden planks. And if he cannot sleep at almost 12 o'clock, neither will the rest of the house.

Find Jammy's 500 Follower's Celebration here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#ransom drydale x you #ransom drydale x reader #ransom drysdale angst #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale #jammy's 500 celebration #writing challenge

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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year

Text

Broken Glass (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! (Coming Soon)

Prompt: You are Dolores Cannava, a young Italian-American nurse desperate to make her own way in the world and break free of her dysfunctional mafia-connected family and traumatic past. Elvis Presley is just returning home from his two-year stint in the Army, looking more handsome than ever, but feeling the pressure to successfully find his way back to the stratospheric career he was forced to leave behind. In a twisted turn of fate, Elvis finds himself in the hospital where your paths cross. Forced to harbor his potentially career-ending secret and needing to escape a terrifying future in New York, you are pulled into his unusual world and must endure a begrudging fake relationship with Elvis in order to protect his reputation (and his life).

TW: Hospitals, illness, allusions to abuse. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers.

Rating: PG (ish?) (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: It’s good to be back, my lil’ darlin’s! I’ve missed y’all! Broken Glass has a decidedly different feel than Pink Scarf, and I really hope that you enjoy it. This will be more of a slow burn and not quite as smut heavy as PS, but we’ll get there eventually! The original character of Dolores can also be read as Reader, but her back story needed to be pretty specific so I decided to go the OC route. I’m excited to dive into some of my favorite tropes with this one, and hopefully I can do them justice.

Delicious 1960 Post-Army E has me in almost as much of a chokehold as ’69 E, so it was only right that I give him the attention he deserves!

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance!

I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

I’ve used the tag list from Pink Scarf, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Story is cross-posted to my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences!

Bellevue Hospital

New York City, New York

March 1960

“Nurse Cannava!”

The shrill call of Charge Nurse Irma Hunt grates on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but you don’t dare show it on your face. Instead, you take a deep breath through your nose and hurry over to the severe woman.

“Yes, Nurse Hunt?” you say as evenly as possible. You’ve only been an official Registered Nurse for a few months and cannot afford to make a wrong step with this drill sergeant of a woman. You’d rather be extra deferential and placating than looking for a new job, no matter how much you want to run in the opposite direction any time she calls your name.

She looks at you critically, peering down over her glasses with her sharp stare. “Nurse Calhoun was pulled away to surgery before she was able to finish her other duties. I need you to change the sheets for our VIP patient while he’s upstairs for x-rays. I need you to be quick. In and out, no funny business, you understand me?”

“Of course, Nurse Hunt,” you nod frantically. It’s the middle of the night, so it is strange for the patient to be doing tests at this hour. Though if they are trying to keep his identity under wraps, it makes sense that they would choose an hour where less people were involved.

“And absolutely no telling anyone about our patient. We must uphold the strictest confidentiality, now more than ever,” she adds with a glare.

The threat is clear:

Don’t mess this up.

“I understand.” Curiosity of who it could be itches at the edge of your mind, wondering about this VIP that has the woman in more of a harsh mood than usual.

Maybe it’s Ricky Nelson or Mario Lanza or Marlon Brando, your mind titters, but it’s probably just some stuffy politician. You figure it’s better to have low expectations and be pleasantly surprised than to have high ones and be disappointed.

Ever the realist.

Regardless of who might be, you don’t have time for silly schoolgirl fantasies. There is a job to do, and you best be getting to it before getting into trouble.

You scurry away to gather fresh linens, then make your way back to one of the few private rooms on the floor. Most patients are relegated to the open wards here in Manhattan’s biggest hospital, but there are special cases, such as this, it seems, where a more private setting is needed.

There’s a large man at the door, keeping watch, and he looks you up and down with narrowed eyes longer than you’d like, sending a chill into your gut. But this is nothing new. You hold your ground, straightening your spine and lifting your chin.

“Nurse Hunt asked me to change the sheets,” you say, clipped. He smiles, as if in on a joke you’re not privy to, then opens the door.

At 20, you are the youngest nurse on the ward. People, especially men, tend to underestimate you, but you have something to prove and no time for nonsense. Graduating high school early, you were thrilled to be accepted to Bellevue School of Nursing, one of the best programs in the country. The four-year experience had been grueling, but since you had to live in the dormitory, it got you out of the house and away from your damned father and his cronies.

In the process, you discovered that helping people truly is your calling. So, while young, you are good at your job and take it seriously.

This is why you hurry in and start stripping the bed as quickly as possible. As curious as you are as to who this mysterious man might be, getting the job done is much more important than snooping around the room.

You tug and pull the sheets as taut as possible, perfect hospital corners making the bed crisp and neat. Your attention to detail and cleanliness are a sense of pride, so spending a little more time than necessary making sure the bed is perfect is worth it. The intention isn’t to linger, but if this VIP is as important as everyone is making him out to be, you want to make sure everything is done right.

Finally, after inspection, you gather up the dirty sheets and make your way around the bed, just as the door opens to the room.

Damn. You weren’t fast enough.

Your gaze cannot help but drop to the man in the wheelchair. A bandage is stuck at the edge of his thick chestnut locks. Although he is obviously ill, his sapphire eyes rimmed with dark circles and his pallor pale, there is absolutely no mistaking who the VIP is.

America’s biggest rebel-turned-G.I., the one and only Elvis Presley.

You are not a fan, but your heart unwillingly kerthunks against your ribcage anyway because he’s still one of the most famous men on the planet, and you are shocked at how pictures barely do the man justice.

Dear lord, even sick, he is wildly gorgeous in person, you catch yourself thinking. His essence seems to fill the room, pushing all the oxygen out, because suddenly you can’t catch your breath. Suddenly, you understand why millions of ladies fall faint at his feet.

Surprised to see someone in his room, his eyes rake up your body from your toes to your little white nurse’s cap. You hold back a shiver as those famous bedroom eyes finally land on yours.

“Well, hello there, little bird.”

Little bird? You know you shouldn’t let it bother you, but the pet name rankles you in its familiarity. You’ve been called all manner of things by all manner of men, both in and out of this hospital, but this is a new one, and though certainly not the worst, it bothers you all the same. Perhaps it’s because he acts as though he is owed this familiarity and expects you to be grateful for it.

His lilting Southern drawl is creaky and hoarse from illness, making him a little less mystical, which allows you to quickly recover your wits. Trying not to show annoyance on your face, you straighten your posture while moving aside to let the orderly push Elvis into the room and help him onto the bed.

“Goodnight, sir,” you say politely, as pissing off this VIP will do you no favors, but your eyes harden at the way his gaze openly lingers on you. You attempt to skirt around him as quickly as possible, but the room, though private, is not large, and the wheelchair and the two men take up much of the space.

“Hey, little bird, wait!” he calls out before you even reach the door.

Stopping in your tracks, your infernal heart continues to pound in your ears. All you want is to get out of this suffocating room, but you inhale and turn around instead. The orderly gives a wink before sliding out of the room behind you. You resist the urge to huff.

“It’s Nurse Cannava, sir,” you say firmly, trying to take the edge out of your voice, albeit unsuccessfully. “Is there something I can help you with?”

That sly, signature grin spreads almost bashfully across his face and if you weren’t so perturbed by the suggestiveness of it, you might keel over from its brilliance filling the small space.

“Call me Elvis, little birdy,” he drawls, blatantly ignoring using your given name, as requested. “Could ya be so kind as to get me some water? Please?” he asks kindly, which is far more than you expect.

“Yes, certainly, sir,” you reply, equally ignoring his request to call him Elvis. You turn on your heel and escape as quickly as possible before he can ask any more of you.

A breath shudders through you once you’re out in the hallway. You hadn’t realized you were holding it. You are as bothered by this reaction as by the fact that you must get this man water and go back in there without showing him that you are in any way affected by the fact that he’s Elvis Presley or that his behavior has you decidedly on edge.

He’s a patient, you remind myself silently, and this is part of my job. A job I desperately need to keep if I want to get out of that nightmare of a house...

This thought steadies you more than anything. You’ll do almost anything to be in a position to permanently leave home and to do so without having to marry that mook Gianni. And hell, you’ve dealt with much worse in terms of patient behavior. Getting Elvis water is objectively the easiest thing you’ve had to do all shift.

You can’t seem to help straightening your starched white apron before taking a deep breath and marching back into the room, pitcher of water and a glass in hand.

“Here you are, sir,” you say, trying not to sound terse, trying not to look directly at him. It’s almost like the feeling that you shouldn’t be looking at the sun, yet your eyes want to do it anyway. Even without looking at him, you can sense his heavy gaze lingering over you. You blush involuntarily, the blooming warmth a betrayal of your modesty. In response, you place the pitcher and water down on the table near him and turn to flee as quickly as possible without making it seem like that’s what you are doing.

“Hey, now, little bird,” Elvis says, catching the hem of your skirt, halting your exit. “Why ya tryin’ to fly away so fast?”

“Oh Madone,” you mumble under your breath, your Italian heritage making an appearance as you roll your eyes to the heavens before turning back around and pulling the fabric from his long fingers. Heat washes over you in an angry wave, turning your blush a deeper shade of red.

“I have other patients to tend to, sir.” It’s not a lie but sure feels like one with the strained way it falls off your tongue. Your lips press into a thin line of a smile, desperately trying not to glare at him but catching his eyes with your unamused ones all the same.

“Elvis,” he corrects me, maddingly, that smirk playing on his lips, a playfulness in his glassy, feverish eyes. “And I was just wonderin’ if ya could pour me a cup, since it’s all the way over d’ere?”

The water is on the table right next to the bed, and he certainly looks able to pour it himself, and you both know it, but he just smiles, playing this infuriating game, wasting your time.

Finally, you sigh and relent. It’ll be faster to just do it than to try an argue about it. He’s a patient, after all.

You still feel his eyes on you as you turn sideways and dutifully pour the water out. His presence, especially when focused on you alone, feels incredibly overwhelming, mixing a healthy dose of trepidation in with your irritation. You keep your face as neutral as possible and hand over the glass.

What you don’t expect is for him to touch you, his fingers circling over yours, blazing hot from the fever he looks to have. You loathe the way your heart flips in your chest when he looks up at you through impossibly long, feathering lashes, those gemstone eyes of his expressive beyond imagining and conveying more than just playfulness.

“Thank you, little bird,” he whispers. The sound swirls up your spine, breaking through your annoyance just enough to see the blithe, handsome boyishness of him. It promises an unfamiliar temptation, one you’ve seen only in movies and never willingly and truthfully experienced for yourself. Your mouth goes bone dry.

He is dangerous, you think, but not because you are afraid of him in a physical sense (and lord knows you’ve feared too many men already in your short lifetime). No, his is a danger of an entirely different sort. He makes you want to trust him, and in your experience, men are never, ever to be trusted.

“Nurse Cannava! What are you doing in here?” Nurse Hunt’s shrill admonishment startles you out of the hypnotizing stare of the teen idol, causing you to jump back as though he was on fire. You let go of the glass, slipping your hands out of his, but he does the same, and the glass spills water all over the newly changed sheets before tumbling to the floor where it shatters with a crash.

The tinkling of the glass explodes in your head, and a latent and all-too-familiar fear associated with the sound freezes you to the spot. Try as you might, you cannot stop the involuntary trembling that rushes through your limbs. Air attempts to fill your lungs, but the breaths are too short and shallow to do any good. The wave of panic threatens to undo you, right here, in front of both your superior and the most famous man in the world.

It's just broken glass. I’m safe. I’m at work. He can’t hurt me here. The mantra plays in your head over and over as you clasp your shaking hands in front of you, trying to pull yourself together before anyone notices anything amiss.

“I told you to be quick and quiet, not go around cavorting with our patient!” Hunt hisses harshly, glowering, but it snaps you out of the trance-like state that has overtaken you.

Now, instead of fearing things that cannot hurt you here, you are suddenly afraid for your job. Nurse Hunt is a terrifying and formidable leader and being on her bad side means a world of hurt going forward. Your heart feels like a hummingbird’s, fueled by anger, embarrassment, and lingering panic. You resist the urge to give Elvis a scathing look, knowing it will likely just result in more trouble. Instead, you quickly raise your eyes and catch a strangely curious yet concerned look from the man.

“I-I’m s-so sorry, Head Nurse,” you finally stammer out, realizing she is waiting for you to say something. “I’ll clean that up right away.” You start for the bed but are stopped by the crunching glass beneath your practical white nurse’s shoes.

“Ma’am?” Elvis croaks out suddenly, gently, capturing the older woman’s attention. “I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t mean to be a bother, but it wasn’t the young lady’s fault at all. I asked her for the water. She was just doin’ her job, and I distracted her. It’s my fault.” His bedroom eyes widen with an almost childlike deference as he looks at her through those long lashes.

Elvis oozes an effusive charm that makes the formidable woman’s hardened veneer crack. It might not be obvious to one who doesn’t know her, but her gaze softens ever so slightly.

You almost want to roll your eyes and scoff, but the strange thing is that it doesn’t feel at all like a put-on. It first strikes you as some sort of malevolent manipulation, like he wants to impress you somehow by getting you out of the mess he got you into, but he seems nothing but honest. He looks truly sorry.

You stand stock still, hands still clasped in front of your apron, needing to know your fate before moving. Nurse Hunt finally sighs, having weighed her options of denying her VIP’s puppy dog eyes or making your life miserable.

“Alright, Mr. Presley. Nurse Cannava will help you move to that chair there so she can change your sheets again and clean up this mess,” she says through pursed lips. “And you let her be and do her job, you hear? You’re not the only patient on the ward, young man.”

“Of course, ma’am. I really am sorry about the mess,” he says softly, seriously, nodding.

“Quickly, Nurse!” Nurse Hunt barks. Picking your jaw off the ground, you hustle to the other side of the bed, still amazed he was able to soften the old goat in any way.

It’s not until your arm is around his waist while the other steadies him in a well-practiced and trained move that you realize that you are holding a barely clothed Elvis Presley. A brief but decidedly improper and embarrassing thought flirts in the back of your mind as you help him into the chair in the corner. His skin is hot with fever, easily felt where your skin touches his and it radiates through his thin hospital gown. It burns into you, through you, melding with the unnerving, angry fire that already consumes you. You can feel his eyes on you but don’t dare to look at him, not with Hunt watching, making sure you don’t drop the prize patient.

You suppose you are glad for the fact that your cheeks were already on fire from humiliation, so neither can see just how uncomfortable and ashamed you feel right now. The way emotions flash rapidly through you, you’re amazed you can concentrate at all, but you manage to deposit the singer in the chair, unscathed.

Nurse Hunt huffs a little, but seems satisfied, and takes her leave, on to the next crisis.

A relieved but shuddering breath releases from you and without looking at the man in the chair that has caused so much trouble tonight, you jump to removing the sheets you made so perfectly not minutes ago.

“Hey, little b—Nurse Cannava,” Elvis catches himself, “I-I-I meant what I said—I really am sorry I made things harder on ya.”

You refuse to look at him. Instead, you grit your teeth and yank the sheets off, furious. Storming out of the room, you quickly retrieve a new set of sheets and a broom and dustpan for the glass on the floor.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he mutters as you stomp back in the room, dutifully ignoring his presence. You busy yourself with the glass first, sweeping it into a pile, then bending over to sweep it into the dustpan. You realize too late that you’ve just effectively but unwittingly shown Elvis your rear end. You can practically hear the smirk on his face, which is confirmed once you flit your eyes over to him.

A new wave of heat flushes over your cheeks, but you pretend you don’t notice his leering. Nothing good has come tonight from you paying any sort of mind to what Elvis is doing. You go about your business as swiftly as possible, counting the seconds before you can remove yourself from his suffocating presence.

“You just gonna ignore me now, honey? Come on, I-I-I said I-I was sorry,” he stutters petulantly after another minute of silence.

Your response is to tug the sheets as tight as you can. You move around the other side, hating that your behind will be in his face while you finish the bed, but it can’t be helped. You grit your teeth and focus on smoothing the sheets instead of the hole Elvis is burning through your backside.

“Well, at least I got a nice view in the room…of the city, I mean,” he chuckles. The innuendo is crystal clear.

You whirl around and want to slap that stupid grin right off his pretty face. You’ve never felt so unprofessional or off the rails as you do with this man.

He’s a patient, he’s a patient, he’s a VIP patient, you remind yourself, trying to take calming breaths. But try as you might, you can’t seem to keep your damn mouth shut, that Italian temper flaring, boiling your blood.

“Eyes up!” you snap your fingers at him. “I have work to do and a job to keep, and talking with you only gets me in trouble, so leave me be!” Blood throbs in your ears as you attempt unsuccessfully to keep your fury at bay.

“Ooh, I heard New York cherries were feisty, but I hadn’t the occasion to see it for m’self,” he muses, thinking he’s just about the funniest thing since Lenny Bruce.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” you mutter under your breath, fuming, turning around to finish the bed. Once it’s done, you breathe a sigh of relief and make to leave.

“Hey, little bird, you want an autograph or somethin’?” Elvis asks, still vying for your attention for whatever reason.

God, the ego on this one. “I don’t want anything from you.” You can’t help but turn towards him, even though you know you should leave as fast as your legs will carry you.

“Not a fan, huh? Bet I can change your mind,” he says, his left eyebrow quirking up suggestively. The man is as gorgeous as he is infuriating.

“I prefer Ricky Nelson, so no thanks,” you shoot back at him.

He fully laughs at that, a big, hiccupping, musical sound that under any other circumstance might be attractive and endearing, but now it just seeks to make you angrier. Your seething seems to amuse him all the more, however, as he erupts into more peals of laughter.

“You’re somethin’ else, lil’ bird,” he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. But his face suddenly turns alarmed as he can’t seem to catch his breath, the laughter turning into gasps.

“Elvis, enough of that. Let’s get you into bed.” Your training immediately overrides whatever negative feelings you might have towards the man. “Try to take slow, deep breaths,” you say calmly, crossing the room quickly.

His face turns red and panic starts to bloom in his darkening, churning eyes as he wheezes. You help him up and out of the chair, and he shudders, leaning all his weight on you. His breathing is too labored and he’s burning up, and you’re not sure he’ll make it the short way to the bed.

Indeed, the two of you only make it a single step before his long legs give way, and it’s all you can do to brace his tall, lean body and keep him from hitting the tile floor hard. Instead, you slide down together, and you make sure to cradle his head as he collapses.

You don’t panic. In fact, you are the calmest you’ve been since meeting the superstar because this you know you can handle. This is what you were born to do.

“We need some help in here!” you shout out to the ward before turning your attention back to Elvis, now sprawled on his back on the floor. You quickly grab the oxygen mask from his bedside and turn the nozzle to get the air flowing.

“Elvis, you’re going to be okay. I need you to try and breathe deep for me, as deep as you can,” you say, fitting the mask over his mouth. He coughs, struggling to get the air in his lungs. He seems in and out of consciousness, those panicked eyes of his now a stormy, glassy gray as they try to focus on you.

“That’s it, just breathe now,” you coo at him, taking his vitals. His pulse is too fast and thready. You give him a small smile, trying to keep him calm.

An orderly, a doctor, and another nurse rush in. You quickly rattle off numbers and facts regarding his respiratory distress.

“Let’s get him on the bed,” the doctor orders, and the four of you lift him on a count of three.

Elvis flails his hand, gripping your arm. It’s certainly not the first time a patient has grabbed you out of fear, but it is the first time you’ve ever felt a jolt of electricity running through you from it. Looking in his eyes, the terror you see there gives you pause.

He’s just a man, you think. A very frightened young man.

And he wants comfort. Care. So, despite wanting to throttle him earlier, you hold his hand. He clings to you as the team tries to stabilize him. Your touch seems to settle him a little, despite the way his eyes flutter and he still gasps for breath.

You all manage to get him breathing better, but he won’t let go of you. He starts to panic again every time you try to move away, throwing his vitals into a tailspin. As weak as he may be, that strong guitar-playing hand of his has you in a vise-like grip. The doctor looks at you judgmentally, and you make it clear that you have no idea why this is happening, that you’d rather not be relegated to hand-holding duty. But since his vitals are better holding your hand, the doctor nods his okay.

Give the VIP patient what he needs, is the clear message.

Elvis stabilizes. The room clears, and you stand at his bedside, waiting for him to fall asleep, to relax, to release you—anything that will allow you to leave and get back to work and forget the last half an hour ever happened. His eyes are closed, but every time you try to slip away, he just pulls you back. You try not to sigh audibly, to let your frustration show. You are usually much more compassionate and professional, rarely letting patients get under your skin. But Elvis…well, he seems to bring out an unwanted side of your normally mild and shy self.

He’s not consciously trying to be bothersome like he was earlier; he’s much too scared and out of it for that, you reason.

And at least this is better than cleaning bedpans, you chuckle, finally deciding to sit on the edge of the bed and make yourself a little more comfortable. You take this somewhat surreal moment to really look at him.

He is truly beautiful. There is an almost angelic innocence about him with his pale skin and high cheekbones, the way his cheeks are somehow both full and soft, but his jaw chiseled at the same time. His lips are pillowy and full, though nearly colorless now due to the lack of oxygen. His hair gleams, a deep, golden chestnut—a far cry from the rebellious black locks he was known for at the height of his fame a few years ago. With his straight nose and fanning, long lashes, it seems as though he was carved in stone by the masters and brought to life somehow.

Your heart skips, quite involuntarily.

Of course, there are imperfections. He’s got a day’s worth of dark stubble growing and you can see places where his skin is mottled from what was probably youthful acne. The circles around his eyes are too dark and…

I am really reaching here, you think. No, you are quite at a loss because even his “imperfections” add to his beauty.

Okay, so objectively, he’s pretty—when he’s quiet and sleeping. It’s just when he opens his big mouth that he becomes less attractive. This reminder makes you feel better and less like a fawning teenager.

Finally, his hand relaxes, and you slip out of his grasp without him reaching for you. As if trying not to wake a sleeping baby, you very slowly and quietly raise yourself off the bed. But curiosity gets the better of you, halting your leave, and you quietly open his chart at the end of the bed.

Your eyes scan the pages quickly, widening, hardly containing your disbelief. They glance up at the unrealistically beautiful young man in the hospital bed. Though you barely know him, and what you do know of him has already driven you mad, you can’t help but feel a sense of sadness and dread.

It’s the thing all his bravado and beauty distracted you from.

Elvis Presley is a very, very ill man.

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toxic3mmy · 2 months

Note

hiiii ive been rlly obsessed with pjo lately, and this idea's been stuck in my head sooo

a pjo au where reader is a child of eros, and accidentally shoots q with one of the love arrows while practicing archery?? and then he gets a puppy crush and starts following reader around, just a cute romcom :)

woah, this idea sounds awesome! thanks so much for the request babe!! i’ll try my best to satisfy your pjo obsession hehehe

(also, i tweaked some junk like powers of the children of zeus and stuff just to make it easier, JUST PRETEND ITS CORRECT PLZ)

(thinking of adding original art to this IDK GIMME TIME)

prompt: you’re practicing archery and shoot alex, child of apollo, with a love arrow which leads to an accidental crush on you

no warnings! super cute and fluffy and romcom!!

________________________________________

part one ~

[listen at each star *]

it was a quiet spring morning. you were up and ready for your day and you decided that it would be perfect weather to practice your archery skills. you collected your materials and head off to your usual practice area.

you spruce up your target on the beautiful willow tree trunk in front of you and you begin.

you put your things out on your practice table in a neat manner. you play some of your “weird” non mythological music and begin.

you relax completely, hold up your bow and with a deep breath in, you let go.

plonk

“god.. that’s just terrible” you mumble to yourself as you spot the arrow almost a foot away from the practice board.

you draw back again and let go.

plonk

“no wonder i need the damn practice” you’re a bit annoyed seeing the arrow land in the grass at the base of the tree but continue to practice.

you draw back again, feeling a slight tingly vibration in your fingertips, and you knew this was a good sign. you were going to hit it right on the bullseye. the moment you begin to exhale, your music makes an odd doppler effect-like sound and it freaks you out a bit. you still absentmindedly let go of the arrow but don’t see where it landed.

“puta madre!”

a blood curdling shriek escapes you. you frantically try to hide from whoever it was that yelled.

a boy with dark hair came up from behind the willow tree and as soon as your eyes met, he holds both his hands up in defeat.

“don’t shoot, please!”

“dude, what the fuck are you doing here?! i almost had a heart attack! ew what’s wrong with your skin?” you made a face of disgust at him

“huh? look, i was just trying to find where that music was coming from and you shot me! like seriously, can you help me get this stupid arrow out of my ass?! god it’s like really deep in my butt meat”

“okay firstly, ew. secondly, ew.”

“im serious, can you give me a hand?” he pleaded, and as you approached him you noticed way too many things at once;

one: his skin was seriously looking freaky

two: he was a child of apollo, a sworn enemy of your eros parents

three: the arrow was really deep in his buttcheek

four: ….

“oh fuck me”

his skin was literally glowing. like… with love and junk.

you look down at the arrow you just removed from him and… oh no, how?!

you shot him with a love arrow. that’s just your luck, huh?

“hey… come here often sweetheart?” he smirked and you seriously had to choke down vomit

“really, that’s what you call flirting? you are such a little virgin boy”

“maybe you can change that” he holds your hand in his and pulls you in closer “maybe you want to put something else in my ass tonight besides that arrow” he smirked once again

you couldn’t believe the words he was saying to you.

you began laughing uncontrollably at his poor attempts at being suave and hot. you bent over laughing, you laughed so hard your abdomen was in absolute pain.

“see? i knew you’d come around, sexy lady” he pulled you up to be chest to chest with him

you quickly pushed him off and dried your tears from laughing so much.

“shut up dude, what even is your name? never mind, we need to get you a cure because i am definitely not going to deal with you and this… love crush thing” you began to collect your things in your backpack and you reached for the same arrow the raven haired menace did, as he was trying to help you.

“my name is alex… but you definitely have permission to call me papi” he said as your touching hands were intertwined in his and you quickly yanked your hand away

“blegh! you seriously need help, you creep! come on, we don’t have time to waste! our parents will absolutely kill us if they see us together” you yanked his arm to follow you and your head snapped at him as you heard a lewd moan come from alex.

“oh yeah, i love it when you’re rough baby” he moaned even louder and you plonked him in the head.

rolling your eyes, you continued to drag him to the only person who could help you out with no hesitation.

it took about fifteen agonizing minutes of walking to your friend thalia’s home as alex would not stop flirting with you and it wouldn’t be that bad of an issue but the dude had absolutely no game so it was just a lot of secondhand embarrassment you were dealing with.

you knocked on thalia’s door and prayed she was in.

thankfully, she opened the door a second later with a sweet smile,

“oh y/n! what a lovely surprise and… um excuse me what the actual frick is going on here??”

you pulled alex in and closed her door hurriedly.

“look man, i was practicing my archery right?”

“uh huh…” thalia replied

“because i simply suck balls at it right??”

“no you don’t darling! you’re a natural beauty and not to mention a talented one at that!” alex sighed, admiring you and inch from your face.

you shoved away his big head with your hand, and continued,

“and well… I SHOT THIS DUMBASS WITH A LOVE ARROW! PLEASE GIVE ME SOME KIND OF POTION THINGY TO FIX IT, PLEASE!” you beg thalia

“oh no! my honey is in distress! fear not, sweet maiden—”

thalia blows a green dust in his face and alex plops down on the ground like a sack of potatoes and he’s snoring away immediately.

“oh my god, thank you so so much! you don’t understand, he was literally like moaning all the way here and he calls that flirting?! he—”

“okay girl, do you need some eepy dust too?? just take a deep breath okay?”

you nod and calm down

“okay, as much as i know you need my help and as much as i want to help you, i can’t. we literally just ran out of the potion for that yesterday and i can’t make any new batches because im missing the main ingredient”

“well that’s okay! tell me where to get it and i’ll go right now and we can fix this whole mess and get rid of the buffoon!”

“no y/n, you don’t understand… the ingredient we need isn’t something you can just go get…”

you looked at her with a really confused face

“the ingredient is uh… spider legs, really weird i know! but you know the all mighty zeus, my pops, yeah he’s not as big and bad as he seems. he’s actually terrified of spiders so he banned them here in our world and i don’t get any spiders in stock until christmas because that’s the only time i can get my guy out here and… yeah”

“are you serious? god damn your dad and his arachnophobia..” i pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration

“yeah well, it’s either wait eight months for this potion or… get your father to undo the love spell”

i sigh and put my head down in my hands, feeling really defeated. what the hell do i do now?

“well… on the bright side, that dust i used on him will have some good effects when used alongside a love spell” thalia offers and you perk up

“wait really?? is he going to stop being so creepy with me?”

“well, maybe? it differs from person to person. but i do know that it most likely will make him act more in tune with his regular personality when he’s into someone, if that helps?” she smiled nervously

“let’s just hope he stops moaning every time i touch him” i say hopefully

“so.. you should probably try telling your dad. it was all a huge accident and i don’t think he’s going to be too upset. yeah he’ll probably give you the old ‘you need to be more responsible’ speech thing but im sure he’ll help you… unless he punishes you by not helping” thalia laughs deviously at the idea

“well thanks anyways, man. also, how long til he wakes up?” you ask, pointing at alex on the floor

“oh, one sec” thalia moves closer to him and kicks him in the balls

alex immediately shoots his eyes open and groans in pain

you look at thalia and the two of you laugh together.

thalia hands alex a pain reliever lollipop as a parting gift and you say your goodbyes to one another.

now it’s just you and alex.. and you were nervous about the way he was going to act with you.

“hey.. i uh, im really sorry about the way i was acting earlier. i seriously was acting super virgin-esque huh? i kinda heard everything you guys were saying even though i was asleep and yeah… but hey, at least now i’m not moaning at you like a harlot right now?” he laughed softly

“that’s so embarrassing that you heard us… but hey, at least you’re somewhat normal again?” you asked and offered him a smile

“i uh.. i never even asked for your name”

“oh, its y/n” you reply in a quiet voice

“that’s a really beautiful name… did i ever mention what my powers were?”

“no actually, you didn’t” you shook your head

“well, can i borrow your bow?” he asks sheepishly

you hesitantly nod and hand him your bow and a normal arrow

he places the arrow in its rightful position and comes up behind you. he’s still holding onto it as he places it in your hands. his arms are completely around you and his head is right next to yours.

“okay, relax. now, you see that small red flag thing on the tree over there? imagine the arrow landing right in the middle. take a deep breath” his hands were atop yours as he pulled the bow back and he whispered almost seductively,

“let go”

you both let the arrow go and it shoots right where you imagined it to. you gulped at how close he was to you. he smelled of pine and cinnamon. it was wonderful..

“you just needed a little push.. you did great y/n” he said in a low voice, still holding onto your hands on the bow

why did you want to lean in and kiss him?

wait, what?!

you immediately pulled away, putting as much space between the two of you as possible.

“y-yeah.. um thank you alex. should we keep going now?” you ask, unable to make eye contact with him

“whatever you’d like to do y/n. i’m honestly just enjoying your presence right now. it almost feels like it’s just you and me here, doesn’t it?”

you didnt know what to say. you agreed completely. you wanted nothing more than to waste your time with alex and his handsome smile and his sweet way with words and—

“y/n? can i show you my other power?” her broke the scary thoughts you were having

“sure”

alex began to sing the same song in was listening to earlier, without missing a single beat. how did he even know this song?

he took your hand and sung his heart out to you. you felt a swarm of butterflies flutter at the pit of your stomach. it feels like you were the one that got a love arrow stuck in your butt.

“your voice is beautiful… how do you know that song?” you asked, continuing to walk alongside alex

“well, i heard it a long time ago. sometimes i can hear it in my dreams, too. it’s not music we can listen to here, it’s mortal music i think. how do you know it?” he asked curiously

“i’ve always had an interest in mortal music.. i was actually playing that song this morning when the whole incident happened, i think you may have interfered with the sound waves when you were trying to find where it was coming from”

“that’s right… i guess this is our song then, huh?” he stated, grabbing me gently by the arm as we stopped in our tracks

“yeah, i guess so” your face was gently raised up by alex’s fingertips, forcing you to look into his entrancing brown eyes

“y/n, are you sure you’re not a siren?” alex whispered, his lips practically touching your lips

“w-what?..”

“it feels like you’re luring me to my sweet demise.. and what’s a death sentence without me being given a last meal? please, let me taste your lips before you take my soul away. it would make me feel oh so complete in this bittersweet end” he claimed proudly

with a flutter of your eyes, you shut them softly and gently press your lips against his

you feel his arms wrap around you in a tight but gentle way, and you reciprocated by holding his torso tightly

your hands grip his shirt tightly in fists as alex deepens the kiss, a small whimper leaving his soon to be bruised lips

alex pulls away and says softly,

“i can die a happy man now, y/n”

you had no idea what just happened or how it happened or even why you let it happen???

there was just something about him that lured you in. you wanted to take him in in every way possible, because to consume him would mean to be one.

god, what the hell were you even thinking?

[TO BE CONTINUED]

#alex quackity #alexis quackity #quackity #quackity x reader #pjo #cupid

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melishade · 15 days

Text

Attack on Prime Alternative Scenes Part 4

Part 3

Now this is going to be a long one and I am going to hate it, because guess who we're talking about today!

Gabi!

Look, full disclaimer. I am neutral about Gabi in terms of how she was written in AOT. I get what Isayama was going for with her, but because we knew her for so little, or course many people were obviously going to get mad that she killed a long time fan favorite. Sure, we've spent time with Gabi, but not enough to care about her compared to the main AOT cast.

I did write one scene where Megatron's confrontation with her is much more violent which prompts her to reflect on his words:

Megatron felt his anger rise to a level he hadn’t felt since he was the leader of the Deceptions. He kicked Gabi hard in the stomach, causing her to fall to her knees and clutch her stomach in pain.

Reiner and Colt tried to interfere, but Megatron raised his hand in front of the both of them.

“She needs to learn,” Megatron hissed in an ominous tone.

“You!” Gabi hissed as she stood up, “You don’t know a damn thing about honor! About serving a country! I’ve worked hard to get to where I am, and you still treat me like I’m a child!”

“Because you are!” Megatron shot back, “At least Falco and Colt listen! You always make one impulsive decision after another without a care in the world! That type of stupid attitude is going to get you killed!”

“Then I’ll die as a hero!” Gabi shouted, “Unlike you, who runs away from everything like a coward!”

“Gabi!” Reiner yelled.

“You’ll die as a fool and a waste!” Megatron shouted.

“You don’t know!” Gabi shouted, “You run away and have the audacity to tell me that I’m a coward! You wouldn’t know sacrifice! Or honor! Or glory! You-!...you…,”

Gabi stopped when Megatron lifted up his shirt. Pieck gasped in horror while Reiner looked ready to throw up. Zeke grew tense while Porco took a step back. They all could see the jagged scar that was smacked dead center of the titan’s chest that ran down from the top of his chest to the bottom of his abdomen.

“Go on,” Megatron challenged, “What were you saying? It must be such an honor, right? To die a hero?”

Gabi didn’t open her mouth as Megatron let go of his shirt. “It’s easy to die a hero, but it’s harder to live with the consequences of the horrible things you’ve done. You are a soldier! Not a child! Yet you act like a fucking fool! An arrogant stain on Marley military! Stop acting like an idiot! The world is never as simple as you think! Grow up!”

Gabi jolted when Megatron threw the rifle to the ground and stormed off.

This scene was supposed to contribute to her character development later, but I changed it in order to make Megatron more calm when it came to confronting Gabi. Also, also, I was originally going to have her be the reason they were captured by enemy forces in the other alternate scene and have Megatron go berserk, but that got scrapped. Here's the scene though:

Gabi walked outside to see Matthew sitting on the bench, wrapping his arms in bandages. She tensed when she saw him without his shirt, seeing the huge scar on his back match the one on his front along with other multiple scars.

Gabi took a deep breath and walked up to the man. “Um…Matthew?”

Matthew stopped wrapping the bandages and looked behind him to see her. Gabi wanted to cry when he saw him glaring at her with such disdain.

“What do you want, brat?” Matthew demanded as he continued wrapping the bandages.

“I…I wanted to apologize,” Gabi began, “It…was because of me that we got captured. I was brash…and reckless…my friends were hurt…and you were hurt. It was because of me. I’m sorry.”

Matthew finished wrapping the bandages before grabbing his shirt. “I don’t want to hear your half-assed apologies. I want to see action, which you clearly haven’t been able to demonstrate since day one. I would’ve cut you out a long time ago, but your unbridled devotion is what’s keeping you here. And because none of your superiors know whose fault it was that caused your capture.”

Matthew placed the shirt over his head. “I would tell your superiors it was you, but that would cause you to be stripped of your rank and being turned into a titan along with your family at the next battle.”

“I deserve it,” Gabi said without hesitation, “I’m a devil.”

Matthew smacked Gabi in her head hard. The girl clutched her head in pain and glared at him.

“What’s your problem?!” she shouted.

“You’re an idiot; that’s your problem,” Matthew answered, “Because you believe your life has no worth, you’re completely and utterly reckless in your actions. Wanting to be the best and not caring how you get there. You think the world is simply black and white. If you kill this person, Marley recognizes you. Follow their orders, Marley rewards you. Sacrifice your lifespan, Marley gives you an ‘honorary title’. You believe that Marley will grant you freedom once you get the founding titan. That all the discrimination and hatred will go away over night. It doesn’t. The world is more complex than you will ever know, and if you keep looking through rose colored glasses, you won’t get very far.”

Matthew stood up. “Your actions will reflect badly on your score in becoming a titan shifter. You will have to work to earn my confidence that you won’t blow yourself up on the next battle. Prove to me that you can grow and learn, and not shove my teachings down the gutter. Do you understand?”

Still, writing her in AOP was going to be a problem because I had to redeem her without having Sasha killed off! Then I remembered that Arcee was there and I was writing her to get attached to the humans. Originally, she and Sasha were going to be partners but that didn't work out. And then Ymir is still the Jaws Titan, so...Falco has no use in the story. So he gets shot!

But instead of Falco being knocked into a coma, he was supposed to survive and have a confrontation with Megatron, before Sasha takes Falco to stay at her parent's place with Arcee to protect him:

Falco slowly blinked as he opened his eyes. He found himself looking up at a brown ceiling and that he was lying down on a bed. He sat up and winced in pain when he looked down to see a bandage wrapped around his stomach.

“What…happened?” he asked himself.

“You were shot,” a voice answered.

Falco turned his attention and gasped in surprise to see Matthew standing at the foot of his bed with his arms crossed.

“Matthew,” Falco said, “W-what happened? Where am I?”

“Eren Jaeger attacked Liberio after Willy declared war,” Matthew explained.

“No, after,” Falco corrected, “I-I followed Gabi onto the ship. I must’ve gotten shot and fell over. Everything else was blurry after that. Matthew, where am I?”

“You’re on Paradis island,” Matthew explained before his voice dramatically changed, “And I am not Matthew Hayes.”

Falco felt a sense of dread and betrayal when the man’s voice changed. “No…not you too. Who are you?”

‘Matthew’ lifted his arm up and it began to change shape. Falco watched as it changed into one of that of the flying titan.

“You…you’re the flying titan,” Falco realized.

“Yes,” he answered in his true voice.

“All this time,” Falco began, trying to process the situation, “You lied to us. You’ve been lying to us for four years.”

“It’s clear that I’m not wanted. I’ll leave. I have to be informed about plans regarding the next attack.” The flying titan proclaimed as he was making his way out of the makeshift infirmary.

“Wait!” Falco exclaimed as he tried to reach out for him. Falco fell out of bed for reaching too far and landed on his side. He clutched his wound in pain as he curled in on himself.

Megatron heard the boy’s cry for pain as he was at the door. He debated his options and sighed to himself before walking back over to him. He picked the boy up before setting him back down on the bed.

“You shouldn’t exert yourself,” Megatron advised, “You’ll reopen your wound.”

“Why do you care?” Falco demanded as he still held onto his side, “You were sent to destroy us.”

“I was sent for recon,” Megatron declared as he grabbed a chair and sat down, “If I wanted to destroy you, believe me, I would have done it a long time ago.”

“Was anything you told us even true?” Falco asked.

“Some of it,” Megatron admitted, “A good lie holds some truth to it. The story regarding the scar on my shoulder was true to an extent. The creature I mentioned was of Cybertronian origin, not this world.”

“So the idea of leaving?” Falco asked.

“I had to play on the idea so I wouldn’t get caught,” Megatron explained, “I did have to come up with a reason to permanently stay until recon was finished.”

“…when you saved us,” Falco realized.

Megatron hummed in response. “Honestly, I’m not fond of seeing sparklings going to war and then dying immediately. At the very least, I wanted to ensure that you were ready.”

“But…that doesn’t make sense,” Falco admitted, “I’m a threat. I was one of the warrior candidates. You were teaching me to fight you.”

Megatron chuckled. “You are the furthest thing from a threat. I taught you how to fight, but I never taught you how to beat me. The style I’ve been teaching you in was one I wasn’t good at.”

“And…you still managed to fend off Annie during training,” Falco retorted.

“I’ve been fighting for my entire existence,” Megatron declared, “It’s nothing new.”

“I see,” Falco said before remembering something, “Gabi! Where is she?!”

“Prison,” Megatron answered, “She shot a Survey Corps member and nearly killed another. The two wheeler saved the other one, and that bullet she shot deflected off of her and hit you in your side. The one who nearly died saved you from falling to your death.”

“But you know her!” Falco exclaimed, “Can’t you do something for her!”

“She killed a human, injured another, and almost killed a second one,” Megatron deadpanned, “Even if I wanted to help her, there’s not much I can do for her.”

“But-!”

“Falco, this is war,” Megatron reminded, “Remember that. Not everything I taught you should go to waste.”

“So then…what will happen to me?” Falco asked, “Will I be thrown in prison?”

“No,” Megatron answered, “Because you didn’t do anything entirely stupid, I was able to create a case for you. The human that brat nearly killed decided to take you to her home for the time being. You’ll be staying with her family.”

“Why can’t you take me back home?” Falco demanded, “My brother. My family.”

“If I go back, I will be attacked by Marley troops,” Megatron explained, “While it will take time to kill me, it doesn’t change the fact that I can get injured and that there is no medic here.”

“But I’m still a prisoner,” Falco proclaimed.

“It could be worse,” Megatron reminded, “You could actually be thrown in a cell.”

“I guess,” Falco agreed, “But…why did you advocate for me? I’m your enemy, right?”

“I respect you to a degree, and your brother,” Megatron proclaimed as he stood up, “I figure it was the least I could do after everything. And you two are able to see Marley for the fools they are.”

“I didn’t think you’d care, considering what I’ve heard about you,” Falco admitted, “You still seem…okay.”

“Once you do here the entire story, that opinion will change. I can guarantee it,” Megatron proclaimed, “You’ll see me as a monster.”

“But…you’re all just normal people,” Falco reasoned, “You and everyone else here are not demons at all. You just want to live and survive. You only attacked because we attacked you first.”

“I’m surprised you’re taking this as well as you are,” Megatron admitted.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I am hurt,” Falco declared, “Eren made me send that stupid letter to his comrades, and you’ve been lying to us since day one.”

“…that doesn’t mean my actions were not real,” Megatron proclaimed as he turned to walk away.

“Wait!” Falco called out, “What is your real name?”

Megatron touched the handle of the door and sighed to himself. “Megatron.”

“Megatron,” Falco spoke before smiling, “Thank you…for advocating for me.”

Megatron didn’t respond as he opened the door and walked out the room.

===

Falco tensed up and hid behind Sasha when he saw Arcee in her bipedal mode. Sasha noticed this and held his hand.

“It’s okay,” Sasha whispered, “She’s not going to hurt you, I promise.”

“I…I’m not sure,” Falco admitted.

Sasha decided to ease the tension and greet Arcee. “Hey ‘Cee,”

Arcee looked down at Sasha and smiled before kneeling down. “Ready to go home?”

“You have no idea,” Sasha sighed with relief.

Arcee noticed Falco hiding behind Sasha. “You’re okay.”

Falco lifted his head from behind Sasha. “You…were worried?”

“You have no idea,” Arcee answered, “I’ve been through a lot. The last thing I wanted was a dead kid on my conscious.”

Falco fully removed himself from behind Sasha, but still stayed close to her.

“Call me Arcee,” she introduced herself.

“Falco,” he replied in kind.

“Well, Falco, I’ll be taking you to Sasha’s home,” Arcee explained, “You’ll be staying there until we figure something out.”

I still have more scenes with Falco but this whole portion of the storyline gets scrapped because of Arcee. The way I was building up Arcee throughout the story is to break down her ideology about black and white, good and evil, blah, blah, blah. She sees that through the victims of the war on Cybertron, but she obviously can't accept that so she ends up leaving. She's put in a situation where she is considered an enemy of the world, but she still can't stomach the idea of working together with Megatron. I needed Arcee to have one more break, which was Falco getting hurt and knocked into a coma, to ultimately break her black and white mentality. She needed to recognize in the worst way possible that she is a villain in the story.

Anyway, back to Gabi. There was one scene that I had written where Optimus does confront her about being from Marley instead of Megatron technically outing her:

Optimus noticed ‘Mia’ glaring at him after he waved goodbye to the vender. He walked over to her and offered her his hand so he could take her to his alt mode. She immediately swatted the hand away and took a step back.

“I assume you are still scared of me,” Optimus assumed. He wanted to get a truthful answer out of whoever this girl was. He knew she was lying to him; he just had to pinpoint exactly what it was.

“Stop trying to be nice,” ‘Mia’ hissed as she walked away from him.

“I am trying to help you,” Optimus reasoned, “I wish to make sure you are safe.”

“So you can rectify your unforgivable sins, you devil?!” ‘Mia’ exclaimed.

Optimus stared in surprise while ‘Mia’ covered her mouth in fear.

“You are…from Marley?” Optimus asked in surprise, causing the girl to take steps back away from her.

“N-no,” she shook her head, “I’m not.”

Optimus knew she was trying to lie again and instead tried to put the pieces together of who she was. No one besides the Eldianrestorationists should be back from Marley. He remembered that two enemy soldiers stormed Wheeljack’s ship. One of them was with Sasha, and the other…was thrown in prison.

“You are,” Optimus concluded.

“No I’m not!” the girl cried, “Leave me alone! Or I’ll scream!”

“No, don’t scream,” Optimus pleaded, “The island will take my word over yours. If they so much as learn who you are, you’ll be sent back into military hands and I cannot control what will happen to you then. You have to trust me.”

“Why should I do that?” the girl hissed.

“Because I can get you off the island and back to Marley,” Optimus answered, before listening to footsteps approaching them, “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I can find you a way back to your home.”

The girl still looked like she was debating her options as the footsteps almost rounded the building. Optimus thought quick and grabbed the girl and picked her up.

“Pretend you are sleeping,” Optimus whispered to her as a woman rounded the building and saw them.

“Is everything alright?” the woman asked, “I thought I heard fighting.”

“Everything is fine,” Optimus reassured, “Mia was just tired, that is all.”

Optimus felt the girl tighten her grip on the holoform jacket and tuck her face into his neck.

“Oh, the poor thing,” the woman sighed, “I can loan you something for her if you’d like.”

“Do not worry. I have what I need for her,” Optimus proclaimed, “Thank you for the kind offer.”

Optimus watched the woman walk away before quietly sighing with relief. He then turned his attention to the girl, who still hid her face in his shoulder.

“It is alright now,” Optimus reassured as he was about to set the girl down, but she tightened her grip even more now.

“You…didn’t tell her,” the girl addressed him without moving her face.

“Of course I did not,” Optimus said.

“Why would you save your enemy?” the girl demanded.

“You are not my enemy,” Optimus declared.

“Then why would you save me, devil?” the girl demanded, “You’ve caused destruction of lives throughout the world for over 1,000 years. You’re a demon. You hate anyone that isn’t like you. You attacked my home, killed my friends, and killed my mentor. He wasn’t even my mentor. He lied to us all.”

“Mentor…?” Optimus questioned before realizing who this girl was, “You are Gabi Braun?”

The girl finally lifted her head and glared at Optimus. “So Matthew told you about me?”

Optimus noticed the pain and shame in the girl’s eyes and felt guilty. “What exactly did he tell you?”

Gabi didn’t respond as she placed her head back on his shoulder. “That I’m a failure. That I’m incompetent. That my recklessness gets people I love killed.”

Optimus placed his hand on Gabi’s head as he walked over to his alt mode. “You are just frightened and terrified. That does not make you a failure.”

“I’m a warrior,” Gabi declared, “I’m not supposed to show fear. I’m supposed to gladly lay down my life for my people and my country. I must atone for my sins.”

“What sins?” Optimus asked.

“The sins my ancestors have caused,” Gabi explained.

Optimus arrived at his alt mode and placed Gabi by the passenger door. “What have you done specifically that would warrant you to be called a devil?”

Gabi looked up at the Prime. “My ancestors-,”

“I am not talking about your ancestors,” Optimus interrupted, “I am speaking of you, specifically.”

“I…I stormed your ship,” Gabi explained, “Tried you kill one of your own. I…I’ve killed so many people so that I could gain respect from Marley.”

“Because you were not given much of a choice,” Optimus proclaimed, “You were given so few options in order to survive, and you were placed into war, which forces people to sacrifice their morality in order to survive. You were told that you had to give your life because of what your people have done in the past. A single person should not be defined by what their ancestors have done.”

“What my ancestors have done is unforgivable,” Gabi proclaimed.

“But you have not done those things,” Optimus proclaimed.

“You have no right to tell me this,” Gabi proclaimed, “You’re a demon. You’ve plundered and destroyed the world and left nothing but blood. You’re a murderer.”

Optimus sighed as he sat down in front of her. “Perhaps you are right,”

Gabi blinked in surprise before scowling. “Of course I’m right.”

“But not in the way that you think,” Optimus continued, “I have killed many. I have killed many of my own people in a civil war that destroyed my world. I have had to make difficult choices that would result in heavy consequences. And I had to fight Matthew: someone I once considered brother. I was not there for him when he needed me, and…he lost his way.”

Gabi scowl disappeared as she stared at Optimus in surprise. She remembered the tale Matthew told her years ago and the pieces finally fell into place. “You…you’re the librarian?”

Optimus was startled by Gabi’s question, but continued. “Yes, I am. I did not expect you to know about me.”

“Matthew told us about you,” Gabi explained, “He was…trying to teach us a lesson.”

“And what was he trying to teach you?” Optimus asked.

“That…the world is not black and white,” Gabi answered.

Optimus blinked in response before huffing and giving a sad smile. “That is the unfortunate truth of the universe. If the world were black and white, I would have killed Matthew to end the war and stop the destruction of our planet a long time ago. But I let my attachment to him cloud my judgment, and as a result, it prolonged our war to unforeseen circumstances. I lost my home, my mentor, my brother, my lover. I lost so much.”

“Then…why?” Gabi asked, “Why would you continue to fight when you’ve practically lost?”

Gabi was startled when Optimus placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I continue to fight, so that someone like you will never have to experience the pain and sorrow that I have felt,” Optimus declared.

This scene wasn't included or it had to be severely changed. I originally was going to have Megatron bring up Orion to the Marleyans, but that ultimately got scrapped because Megatron would never talk about that to the enemy, no matter how fond he's gotten of them. He does end up calling Orion a 'naive little shit' Lol. But I mainly wrote these scenes because in order for Gabi to be redeemed I thought that having her be around Optimus would be a good start.

And before that, Kiyomi was originally supposed to find out about Gabi, and offers Optimus to help watch her when in reality she wants to interrogate her. Also, ignore the misspelling of Kiyomi's name. I wrote this a while ago:

Gabi glared at Kyomi as the woman sat down and poured herself some wine. She clenched the chair she was in as she felt eyes on the back of her head as she glanced back at the two guards behind her at the doors.

“I’m just a simple child,” Gabi tried to reason, “What’s with the security?”

Kyomi took a small sip as she looked Gabi dead in the eye. “Do you really think I’d forget your face? I saw all four of you when I helped your friend avoid getting turned into a titan when he spilled wine all over me.”

Gabi began trembling.

“And what do you know, two Eldian warriors storm the titan’s ship and kill a Survey Corps member,” Kyomi added, “And by the flying titan’s account, both were trained warriors.”

Gabi growled in anger. “You traitor.”

Kyomi huffed in response. “That was fast.”

“Shut up!” Gabi shouted, “You could’ve told someone about these demons! Instead, you’re working with them! You’re just as evil as them! Eldian sympathizer!”

“That should be good for you,” Kyomi reminded calmly, “Considering the fact I could just as easily turn you over to the government and probably have you executed.”

Gabi’s face dropped and her whole body filled with dread.

“Or I could tell Optimus, since he clearly doesn’t know who you are,” Kyomi continued.

“Y-you can’t do that,” Gabi proclaimed.

“Says who?” Kyomi demanded.

“Marley will come for me,” Gabi warned, “They’ll come and-,”

“I doubt they would come for an expendable warrior,” Kyomi proclaimed, “They’ll just pluck another Eldian to take your place. When they come, they’re coming to avenge the non-Eldians. Not you.”

“My friends are dead,” Gabi hissed, “Zofia was crushed by a boulder. Udo was trampled to death. Falco…falco…,”

“He’s dead because of you,” the flying titan’s voice echoed in her mind.

“It’s because of those titans,” Gabi hissed, “It’s because of those demons. Eren killed my friends. Those titans trampled my home! It was because of them!”

Gabi looked at Kyomi with such fury. “WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO LECTURE ME WHEN YOU’VE BETRAYED YOUR OWN KIND?!”

Kyomi put the glass down. “You want my personal opinion: I’m just doing this for profit. I think it’s just better to work with the person that has the goods instead of trying to blow them up. If people thought like that instead of the nonsense they think of now, this world would be better off. If you took the time to actually talk to the people at the harbor, you’d realize that they’re not demons.”

“They are,” Gabi declared, “Especially that flying titan and the metal titan!”

Kyomi broke face and began to snicker. Gabi felt insulted when the woman began giggling.

“The flying titan destroyed my home!” Gabi shouted.

“He did,” Kyomi said, “He also could’ve destroyed it four years ago if he wanted to but he didn’t. Matthew doesn’t deny that he’s a demon. He’s played that role for so long that he’s come to accept the backlash. I’m laughing about your opinion on the metal titan. Optimus Prime has done nothing but take care of you, and all you’ve done is curse and spit at him.”

“He’s a demon!” Gabi exclaimed, “He wanted to destroy my home!”

Kyomi sighed. “I’m going to let you in on some confidential information.”

“Ma’am,” one of the guards spoke.

Kyomi raised her hand in response before turning to Gabi. “Optimus never wanted to attack Liberio. No one did.”

Gabi stared in disbelief.

“Eren went rogue on his own,” Kyomi continued, “He left the island without informing anyone. The original plan was to find Eren and bring him back to the island before he did anything dangerous. When it became clear that Eren had full intentions of attacking Liberio on his own, everyone was cornered with a decision: help Eren attack Liberio and kill innocent people, or let Eren attack on his own and have the Founding Titan power redacted. The flying titan already had the information he needed, and had no issue with killing. The other two titan were complacent; they had their own friends they needed to protect. Optimus kept up vocal opposition until the end. He said he would remain on the island to defend it in the event a fleet came and attacked. In reality, he just didn’t want to kill any humans.”

Gabi shook her head in response. “I-I don’t believe you.”

“Did Optimus hurt you?” Kyomi asked, “Did Optimus attack you? Did Optimus harm you in any way?”

Gabi didn’t respond.

“There’s your answer,” Kyomi said, “Optimus protects humans; he doesn’t hurt them.”

“He’s still a demon,” Gabi whispered.

“Still in denial,” Kyomi sighed, “I should tell Optimus who you are, or any official for that matter, but I know that you just want to go back to Marley.”

Gabi grew worried at her statement.

“I clearly can’t take you,” Kyomi proclaimed, “The Amizubitos will be outed and attacked. I can’t risk my nation being destroyed. My advice to you, if you want to stay alive: stay with Optimus Prime.”

“Stay?!” Gabi shouted.

“There are others still outside,” Kyomi reminded.

Gabi closed her mouth.

“The fact that you killed one of their own will no doubt get you killed,” Kyomi explained, “Breaking out of prison doesn’t help your case either. Staying with Optimus will increase your chances at survival. He doesn’t harm human, and you’re a child. He’ll give you special treatment and make sure your safe under his care until he can get you a home. It’s not like you have any other options, anyway.”

“…what if…he finds out who I am?” Gabi hesitantly asked.

Kyomi thought it over. “I don’t think he would hurt you.”

“Why?” Gabi asked.

“Every sentient being deserves an opportunity for redemption,” Kyomi quoted, “His words. Not mine.”

Gabi scoffed in response. “That’s stupid.”

“It’s what he believes,” Kyomi proclaimed, “It’s not something bad to hold on to.”

Also the final confrontation between them was supposed to be a little bit different too:

“Gabi, are you alright?!” Optimus asked with concerned as he examined the bruise on her arm.

Gabi grew angry and pulled her arm from Optimus’ grip. She tried to shove him away, but she merely fell backwards and hit her head on the side of Optimus’ alt mode.

“Gabi-!”

“Stop it! Just stop it, you devil!” Gabi shouted.

“Gabi-,”

“Is this some kind of sick twisted joke to you?!” Gabi demanded, “I am a devil! A demon! Why are you risking your life for me?!”

“Gabi, they would have killed you if I handed you over to them,” Optimus reasoned.

“I’m your enemy!” Gabi shouted, “You were supposed to hand me over to them! Instead, you protect me?! Are you out of your mind?! You’re an idiot! A fucking idiot! You’re trying to manipulate me to trust me before you kill me yourself!”

Gabi stood up. “You’re a demon! A devil! Do us both a favor and die!”

Gabi didn’t know what came over her as she punched Optimus square in the face. She felt her heart stop and dread go through her as Optimus touched his cheek. What did she do?! The titan saved her, and she decided to punch him! Now he would no doubt try to kill her now! She doomed herself! She was going to die! The flying titan was right! Her idiocy was going to get her killed!

Gabi fell back down as Optimus stood up and looked down at her. She trembled in fear and was ready to cry. She then watched in confusion as Optimus walked away from her towards a small bush of blue flowers.

“I understand your hatred of me,” Optimus began as he knelt down and picked the flowers one-by-one, “I understand you want me dead after the attack of your home. If it was my choice, I would not have attacked a place full of innocent humans, but it is war. War does not spare the weak. It only takes as it leaves nothing in its path but death and destruction. It does not matter who is in the right or wrong, many will die.”

Gabi tensed when Optimus stood up and walked over to her before sitting down in front of her. “You are a soldier because you were given such few options. Because of your heritage. You are seen as a demon by the people you serve, and as a result, you believe yourself to be a demon.”

“That’s not-,”

“You wish to become great,” Optimus continued as he weaved the flowers together, “You wish to become powerful so that you will mean something to someone. You wish to be recognized by the ones who do not care for your own life at all. When you are met with others who wish to help you that have no alliance with Marley, you curse them and say they do not matter. Marley only wishes for you to become great because they wanted to use you as a weapon. They do not care for you as a person.

“You’re afraid that everything Marley taught you is wrong. You’re afraid of the reality that someone you loved attacked and killed innocent people. You scream and cry out in fear. You’re afraid of being considered weak. You do not believe your life has value.”

Gabi watched Optimus finish weaving the flowers into a crown. “The island sees you as an enemy. That is understandable. The world sees you as a devil. That is unforgivable.”

Gabi shut her eyes in fear as Optimus placed the crown on her head. “All I see, is a little girl. I see a little girl who wants nothing more than to return home.”

Gabi shakily touch the crown on her head as looked Optimus in the eye. “What…what do you want from me?”

“I just want you to see that you are human,” Optimus answered.

“I’m…I’m not,” Gabi whispered, recalling her memories of the four year war. She began recalling the way she treated her friends, and how they were now six feet under. She remembered the way she killed her enemies, both Eldians and others. She remembered Falco, and how her foolishness got a bullet in his side and caused him to bleed out. It was her fault. She was the one who did that, and she was powerless to do a thing.

“I’m a devil,” Gabi whispered as tears rolled down her cheek, “I killed people. I was cruel to my friends. I didn’t get to tell them that I cared, and now their dead. They’re dead because of me. I deserve to die. I…I…”

Gabi covered her eyes with her hands and began crying. “I’m so horrible!”

Gabi screamed and cried as she sobbed loudly. Optimus could only watch with sorrow before wrapping his arms around her. She tensed in fear as Optimus placed his hand on her head.

“It is alright,” Optimus reassured, “You are allowed to cry. You are allowed to be human.”

Gabi felt her hands move to Optimus’ arms and she gripped them tightly. She put her face on Optimus’ shoulder and continued crying. The tension in her body leaving, realizing she didn’t fear the titan. The titan would protect her, and keep her safe.

Yeah, in the original outline, Pieck was never in the scene. She was supposed to be tailing Eren originally. Then I had the whole 'shadow' idea so I had to change course. Also, I thought Optimus making Gabi a flower crown would have been nice but I don't think he would know how to do that.

So originally I was going to have Levi and Kenny find Optimus together, after Kenny and Levi have a rather heated conversation after the Killer saves the Captain's life from Zeke. Optimus remembers Falco's location and ends up going to the cabin with all three of them to drop of Gabi and pick up Sasha:

Optimus helped Gabi out of his alt mode before kneeling down in front of her. “I need you to stay here.”

“No!” Gabi exclaimed while shaking her head.

“Gabi-,”

“No, I want to stay with you!” Gabi pleaded.

“Gabi, where we are going is dangerous,” Optimus explained, “You could be killed.”

“He’s right,” Levi reasoned, “The military wants you dead, and there’s a chance Eren and Zeke are raising hell as we speak. You’d be dead in an instant.”

“But-!”

“Gabi, look at me,” Optimus pleaded, earning the girl’s attention, “This is the best option for you. I will come back for you; you have my word, but you need to stay here.”

“…I’m scared…,” Gabi whimpered as she hugged the Prime.

“I know you are, but this is the safest place for you right now,” Optimus declared.

“How are you sure?” Gabi asked.

Gabi gasped when the door opened to reveal the woman who went to rescue Falco on the ship two months ago. She was now in civilian attired with a bow in hand and arrows in her quiver. Gabi yelped in fear and hid behind Optimus as she drew her arrow.

“It’s not for you,” Optimus whispered.

Gabi peaked over Optimus shoulder to see the woman directing her weapon at Kenny who had his hands up in surrender.

“Stand down,” Levi ordered, “He’s on our side.”

“I’m not convinced,” Sasha declared.

“Too bad sharpshooter,” Kenny hissed, “You’re gonna have to work with me.”

“Why the hell should I do that?” Sasha demanded.

“Zeke escaped,” Levi explained, “He’s infected the wine from Marley with his titan fluid and has been feeding it to the military.”

Sasha stared in fear as she lowered her bow. “Hanji and the others? Where are they?”

“Fine,” Kenny answered, “They didn’t drink the wine and Erwin got them out in time.”

“We are heading over to them now,” Optimus declared as he stood up, “I know this is much to take in, but we need as many soldiers as possible.”

Sasha turned her attention to Gabi, who was trying her best to hide behind Optimus. “And what about her?”

“Can she remain here with your family?” Optimus asked, “Where we are going, it will not be safe for her.”

“Depends,” Sasha answered before turning to Gabi, “You’re not going to try and kill me, right? That bullet would’ve gone through my heart if Arcee wasn’t there,”

Gabi furiously shook her head. “No, I’ll be good. I promise.”

Sasha thought over her options, but sighed in irritation. “Doesn’t seem like I have a choice due to the time crunch. Fine, she can stay. Falco, Gabi’s here!”

Gabi heart stopped as she stepped in front of Optimus. Falco? Falco was here? No…Falco was dead…her bullet when through his side. He bled out…right?

Gabi’s breath got lodged in her throat as she saw Falco walking out the house in perfect health. She noticed the bandage wrapped around his waist under his shirt and began trembling. Falco didn’t seem to notice as he smiled with joy.

“Gabi!” Falco exclaimed as he ran to her and gave her a hug, “I’m so glad to see you! Did they let you out of prison?! What’s with the flower crown?!”

Gabi couldn’t handle it anymore and her legs gave out. She fell to her knees and out of Falco’s grasp, startling the boy.

“Gabi, what’s wrong?” Falco asked in surprise.

Falco didn’t know what to do when tears began forming in Gabi’s eyes. She ended up taking a deep breath and loudly sobbed. Falco immediately got on his knees as a fountain of tears poured out.

“Gabi-!” Falco wasn’t able to get a word out as Gabi tightly hugged her friend.

“I’m sorry!” Gabi sobbed through her tears, “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine! I’m fine!” Falco tried to reason before turning to the three men in front of him, “Why is she like this?!”

“Right, forgot to mention. Megatron told Gabi that you were dead,” Kenny answered.

“What?!” Falco exclaimed.

“What the hell?!” Sasha demanded.

“Permission to shoot buckethead in the face,” Levi said.

“Granted,” Optimus allowed.

Mr. Blause came walking to the door with coffee in hand when he heard the loud sobbing. He was startled to see all these people at his doorstep and looked down at his coffee cup.

“I think this ain’t healthy,” he commented.

“Pa, I gotta go,” Sasha told him, “Take care of that girl, Gabi, okay?”

“’Kay,” Mr. Blause agreed before hugging his daughter, “Be safe. Love ya’.”

“Love ya’, too,” Sasha replied back as he hugged him. She let go of her father before running towards Optimus’ alt mode. She hopped into the back while Kenny jumped into the passenger seat. Optimus deactivated his holoform and opened the driver door for Levi. The captain jumped in before Optimus revved his engine and drove away from the house.

Mr. Blause sighed in irritation about the chaos before looking down at Falco and the newcomer still crying. Mr. Blause set his coffee cup down and walked over to the two and kneeled down.

“Heya,” he greeted, “Ya’ look tired,”

Gabi glared at the man while tightening her grip on Falco.

“Gabi, it’s okay,” Falco reassured, “His family let me stay with them.”

Gabi was still unsure as she watched the adult with caution.

“How ‘bout I take you to a nice bed and ya’ get some rest b’foreya’ eat somethin’?” Mr. Blause suggested.

Gabi was really tempted by the offer, and gave into her exhaustion. She let go of Falco and nodded her head quietly.

“I can carry ya’,” Mr. Blause offered.

Gabi felt her guard go down as Mr. Blause picked her up and carried her into the house with Falco following behind.

So originally, Megatron was going to tell Gabi that Falco was dead instead of alive in order to break her mentally and keep her in the prison. He didn't want her having the motivation to escape. She ultimately did in this version, and she ends up under Optimus, who leads her right back to Falco.

There were also a few other scenes on the farm:

Gabi opened her eyes and rubbed her head before sitting up. She noticed that she was in someone’s room and the bed she was on was right next to the window.

Gabi felt the blankets shift and looked down to see Falco resting his head on the bed while he was sitting in a chair. Gabi was going to cry again when she saw Falco breathing. He…he’s alive. Falco’s alive.

Gabi slowly reached out and touched Falco’s head. The boy slowly opened his eyes and raised his head. He rubbed his eyes before looking directly at Gabi.

“Hey,” Falco said.

“Where…are we?” Gabi asked.

“We’re at Sasha Blause’s home,” Falco explained, “She let me stay here instead of getting sent to prison.”

“Oh…,” Gabi weakly responded.

“Gabi, are you-…,” Falco stopped himself short. She probably wasn’t okay. She thought for months that he was dead, and from the looks of it, she blamed herself for it.

“Gabi, I’m alive,” Falco told her, “I’m here, and we’ll find a way to get back home together.”

Gabi looked down at Falco’s shirt to see the bandages around his waist. Falco noticed the direction of her gaze and pulled down the shirt. He then pulled her into a hug, startling the girl.

“But…but I hurt you,” Gabi reminded, “You almost died because of me.”

“You would’ve never hurt me on purpose,” Falco proclaimed, “And I’m here now. It’s okay.”

Gabi wrapped her arms around Falco’s waist, causing him to wince. Gabi quickly let go of him with fear and concern.

“The wound’s not completely healed yet,” Falco explained, “I’ll be fine though.”

Gabi wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Gabi-,”

“I was always mean to you. I always looked down on you,” Gabi cut him off, “I never…,”

Gabi began crying again in his shoulder. “I hurt you. I almost killed you.”

Gabi obviously needed to apologize to Falco for calling him a bad friend. And there's a much more positive interaction between Kaya and Gabi:

”Can’t believe Megatron told you I was dead,” Falco admitted.

Gabi looked at Falco. “That’s Matthew’s real name?”

Falco nodded his head. “I wasn’t aware he faked his death, so when I woke up in the hospital, kind of thought I was back in Marley. Then I heard him talking differently, and he told me who he was and what he was doing.”

“So…why were you sent here?” Gabi asked, “How come you weren’t put in prison?”

“Megatron advocated for me,” Falco explained, “He told the military here that I was much more rationale and wouldn’t try to kill anyone. He even said I most likely got on the ship to try and stop you. So the woman, Sasha, decided to take me here and allow me to recover. When I asked him about you, he said there was nothing he could do since you tried to kill one of their own.”

“…He could be lying to you,” Gabi proclaimed, “He lied to me. He lied to everyone. Udo and Zofia are dead. Liberio’s been destroyed.”

“From what I heard, Eren Jaeger was the one who launched the attack by himself in the first place,” Falco proclaimed.

“How could you have heard that?” Gabi demanded.

“I heard some of them talking,” Falco explained, “They said they threw Eren into prison.”

“No excuse for what Megatron did,” Gabi declared, “Did…did he even care about us? Every action he did, was it because he cared, or was it because he was trying not to get caught?”

“…can’t say for certain,” Falco admitted, “Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. I don’t know.”

“I hate him,” Gabi declared.

“…I don’t know if I can,” Falco admitted.

“Hi,” a voice greeted.

The two looked up to see a blonde girl holding two sandwiches, offering both of it to them. Falco smiled and took the both of it from her hands. He handed one to Gabi, and she took it from his hands.

“Can I sit with you two?” she asked politely.

“Sure,” Falco answered.

Gabi grew tense when the girl sat down next to her. She grew even more nervous when she held out her hand to her.

“I’m Kaya,” she introduced herself.

“…Gabi,” she meekly responded as she shook Kaya’s hand.

“You’re from Marley, like Falco, right?” she asked.

Gabi nodded her head.

“So…you probably think I’m a devil right?” Kaya asked.

Gabi pulled her knees up to her chest. She didn’t know what to think anymore.

“I…,” Gabi trailed off, unable to come up with a response.

“It’s okay,” Kaya reassured, “You were raised in Marley. I can’t blame you for your way of thinking.”

Gabi was startled by the girl’s response. She didn’t yell at her, or curse her out.

“Falco, do you know when my sister’s coming back?” Kaya asked.

“I’m not sure,” Falco answered, “It seemed pretty urgent when she left. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“…Zeke broke out,” Gabi declared.

“What?!” Falco exclaimed while Kaya looked in surprise.

“He broke out, and now he might turn people here into titans,” Gabi proclaimed.

“…that’s terrifying,” Kaya remarked.

“How are you not worried?!” Falco exclaimed.

Kaya quickly shushed him before continuing. “I am worried, but I know that the Survey Corps and the Autobots will do everything they can to stop it.”

“’Autobots’?” Gabi questioned.

“Arcee, Wheeljack, and Optimus,” Kaya listed, “They’re called Autobots, and they advocate for the protection of life. I don’t know about Megatron though. Every time I ask Sasha about it, she would give me this uncomfortable look and said that ignorance was better.”

“Do you know anything about Megatron?” Gabi asked.

“Not really,” Kaya answered, “Arcee would tell us tales of battles she had on both her home and on Earth, but she didn’t really talk about Megatron much.”

“Who’s Arcee?” Gabi asked.

“The blue Autobot,” Kaya explained, “She’s extremely agile and fast. She’s my sister’s partner.”

“I hate her,” Gabi hissed, earning a worried look from Falco.

“Is it because she was part of the Liberio attack?” Kaya asked.

Gabi looked at Falco and felt a wave of guilt rush over her.

“Arcee didn’t mean for me to get injured,” Falco explained, “She felt guilty when the bullet hit me and was glad that I was alive. She even came to me in the hospital and apologized to me.”

“Arcee wanted to apologize to you too, but since you were in prison, she never got the chance,” Kaya continued, “She never wanted to attack Liberio. None of the titans did.”

“Then why did they?!” Gabi exclaimed, “Why did they trample my home into the ground?! Why did they kill Udo and Zofia?! Why did those devils attack us?!”

“Gabi!” Falco exclaimed before grabbing her hand.

“…because it’s war,” Kaya answered, earning both of their attention, “Arcee has always told me and Sasha that war was terrible. She had to get her hands dirty in order to survive. She struggled so much to keep her morality while fighting a group that wouldn’t hesitate to kill their own in a heartbeat. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done. People will end on dying, because one side feels right. It’s why…,”

Gabi felt her stomach turn as Kaya began to cry. “It’s why my mom was devoured by a titan. It’s why our country was devastated. It’s why Arcee lost her home, and why the Survey Corps attacked Liberio. It was because of war.”

“War is a cruel and terrible thing,” Gabi remembered Optimus saying, “It kills and destroys until no one is left. You’re only given the option to survive, and must sacrifice everything in order to do so.”

“…I’m…sorry,” Gabi said quietly, earning a shocked look from Falco.

“It’s okay,” Kaya reassured as she wiped away her tears, “You were born in Marley, and told to think a certain way.”

Gabi removed her hand from Falco’s grip as he stared in disbelief. Gabi would never say stuff like this. She would never apologize. She would never be kind to the people she had been told were demons. What the hell caused this change?

“So…,” Kaya began, wanting to change the topic, “What’s Optimus like?”

Gabi stared at her in surprise. “Huh?”

“You actually got to meet Optimus and spend time with him,” Kaya said, “I’ve always wanted to meet him, but I missed my chance when Optimus came here. Arcee always told me and the others stories of battles they fought together. I’ve always wanted to know what he truly was like. You spent time with Optimus, so what did you think of him?”

Falco became worried once more. What was Gabi going to say? She already hated Megatron, what could she say that could possibly make this-

“Kind,” Gabi answered, “Optimus is…really kind.”

Falco stared in shock. What?!

“Optimus protected me and was willing to take care of me,” Gabi continued, “Even when he figured out that I was from Marley, he was stilling willing to help me get back home to safety. He protected me from his own allies and saved my life over and over.”

Gabi let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Even when I called him a devil and cursed him out, he saved my life. I…just hope I get the chance to apologize to him when he comes back. And tell him thank you for protecting me.”

Yeah, there was a lot going on, but this originally happened because Sasha was supposed to be bringing Arcee to the farm more often, and the Autobot would tell stories to Kaya and the other kids, which is why Kaya knew more than the average person.

I think that's all I have for right now because this is a lot. And as I'm scanning through my old documents, I'm realizing I'm missing a lot more shit. Lol. I'll post it later with time. Just enjoy.

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kipperlillyforpresident · 17 days

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Can I say that I think one of the problems with this season is that it's not about confronting the rage inside you? That's what the villains are about. But it's not been a part of the Bad Kids story at all. At any point. We get the opposite with Gorgug, where he's being encouraged to embrace and balancing his rage in order to grow (which gets even weirder when Porter turns out to be the villain, undercutting basically the one actual character arc that happened this season.) And there's been no other interest in or investment in rage around any other character. Their character development hooks (to the extent that they have them) are all about stress and preparing for the real world. The problem Riz gets confronted with over and over this season is the possibility that his friends aren't as invested in their relationship as he is. The problem Fig encounters is a problem of identity and coping with expectations. Fabain's problem is around loneliness. Kristen's is taking responsibility. Adaine's is navigating the world from a radically changed position. None of the actual problems intended to provoke growth that the characters were confronted with have anything to do with rage. Honestly, even Gorgug's problem only involved rage once Porter got involved, originally his problem was also about identity.

Now, I still think they dodged dealing with those problems too and none of the character's really grew this season. But I think the problem with the Rat Grinder's is that there is a fundamental disconnect between what the villain is doing and who the characters are. And that's kind of makes sense. Character arcs shouldn't respond to the villain. At least, not in an ongoing story like this, a good villain should be created to interfere with who the characters are/want to be. It made sense for the American Dream to be the villain in Unsleeping City because all of the characters had direct ties to striving for that dream. It made sense for The Authors to be the villain in Neverafter because all the characters were struggling with aspects of self-determination and free will. It made sense for The Nightmare King to be the villain in SY because all the characters were asked to confront their fears. At no point, were the character's storylines other than Gorgug this year about confronting rage and violence. And, frankly, I don't think they should have been because it's not a character arc that works particularly well for these characters or for this world (a world where brutal violence is encouraged, characters who have never seen their anger as a problem.) The original character prompts were much better than rage focus. But because they wanted to make Porter the villain, literally just for the bit, the whole thing turned into a thematic mess.

Sorry for the block of text. I've been trying to work out why I agree with so many of the Rat Grinder fans' general complaints but disagree with the specifics of a lot of their criticism. And I think this is it

do NOT apologize anon!! I always appreciate analytical asks like this - and I'm glad that even non-TRG stans find my blog interesting enough to share their thoughts like this.

I think this is... a really REALLY smart ask. It's an incredibly good framework for analyzing why so many people are upset by this season.

And, frankly, I don't think they should have been because it's not a character arc that works particularly well for these characters or for this world (a world where brutal violence is encouraged, characters who have never seen their anger as a problem.)

I think this part of your ask really hits the nail on the head. Because you're right! Brutal violence is seen as bad when the enemies do it, because that's a nominal theme of the season. But when the protagonists have to get to work, it's back to the status quo, and brutality is once again just a fact of life.

I'm going to be chewing on this ask for a while. Thanks for sending it!

#asks

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violet-shadows · 2 years

Text

It's okay. (Azriel x OC)

Masterlist

Summary: After a desperate search, Azriel rescues his friend and fellow member of the Inner Circle. Their reunion prompts some revelations about their shared connection and feelings for one another.

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Azriel x OC (she/her pronouns) - name not mentioned, could be read as Azriel x Reader

Warnings: description of unhealthy weight loss, description of injuries

A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve written fanfiction but I thought I’d try my hand at writing for the ACOTAR universe. This was originally a snippet of a longer project I’m working on, but I’ve changed directions. I’m open to feedback, prompts, and requests.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Azriel hadn’t slept in days, his search for answers was growing increasingly desperate. It had been two months since she had vanished, picked off on her way back from the Steppes. He had been searching ceaselessly since then, tracking down lead after lead only to hit dead ends. Like him, his shadows were growing increasingly frantic in her absence, whipped into a constant flurry that fed his own anxieties. Finally, a breakthrough came in the form of a message from one of his contacts in the Steppes. There had been chatter about a few of the isolated camps seceding in recent years and news of a recently acquired prisoner that could give them leverage over their High Lord had spread.

He nearly ripped Rhys’s throat out when he stopped him from going directly to the camp right then and there, reminding him that storming in without a plan was likely to get them both killed. Fortunately, his brother, although far more levelheaded, was also eager to retrieve her. An extraction plan was quickly formulated along with the assault on the camp that would follow closely after. Kidnapping a member of the inner circle was an act of war and would be handled accordingly.

They met at a nearby camp that evening, gathering a platoon of loyal warriors to rain hell upon the traitors once she was brought to safety. It took all of Azriel’s self-control to wait until the dead of night to slip into the camp and let his shadows lead him to her. He found her deep within the keep, locked in a windowless cell that smelled of rot and decay. Azriel didn’t pause to evaluate her injuries, unwilling to test his restraint so far behind enemy lines. Instead, he rushed forward, gripping her upper arms with his calloused hands, and pulled them both through the shadows.

They reappeared in a tent on the outskirts of the settlement where Rhysand, Cassian, and their warriors were staged. He dropped his grip on her arms and tried to calm the pounding of his heart. His shadows whirled at their feet merrily, winding around both of their ankles as if they, too, needed assurance that she had been retrieved. She had always been their favorite, though Azriel dared not tell her that. When she was around, he had to keep them on a tight leash, reigning them in so they wouldn’t curl around her as if she, too, was their master. He feared that their affection for her would someday betray his own feelings, the ones he buried deep for fear of ruining the fragile companionship the pair had formed.

“Are you okay?” He almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. Instead, a strangled cry passed his lips, not unlike a wounded animal. Still, she stared at him with shining eyes, searching his face for signs of damage before taking stock of the rest of his body. His shaking hands hovered over her arms as if they might shatter her. The scene before Azriel was plucked from his most recent nightmares, the ones that he awoke from heaving and sweating. She was thin, thinner than anyone he’d ever seen. Not even Feyre had been so emaciated when she arrived in Velaris, perhaps not even when her family had neared starvation. Her cheekbones, once rounded and flushed with life, looked sharp enough to puncture through the sallow, delicate skin stretched over top. Her lips were bloodless, taking on a blueish hue to match her grey complexion. Both of her eyes were marred with burst blood vessels, the red stains contrasting with her bright irises. Her left eye was blackened with purple, blue, and green blotches that trailed along her cheekbone and into her hairline. It was swollen but she could open it. It had been a few days since it happened.

He couldn’t have guessed how long they stood there, gazing at one another with twin expressions of terror and relief. The stillness was broken after a moment when she leaped, closing the gap between them, and wrapping her arms around his neck. He caught her on instinct, arms tightening even further when her face found the crook of his neck. He shuttered, his chest shaking beneath her, and it took him a moment to register he was crying, no sobbing.

Mate. His shadows sang, lighter and softer than he had ever heard them. Mate. They chanted, encasing the embracing pair. Mate. They growled now, taking stock of her condition, as if, like him, they had forgotten the circumstances of this reunion for a moment.

All at once, his composure was shattered. Relief, guilt, grief, and icy rage washed over him, threatening to drown him in their onslaught. Azriel prided himself on his unshakable disposition, his ability to remain calm in a storm of chaos. Yet, as he clutched her too-small frame as tight as he dared, willing himself not to crush her, he was shaken to his very core.

Later, he would be thankful for the privacy his shadows provided them. Cloaked in sheer darkness, the world around them had faded out, allowing for a brief moment of peace as their world shattered and reformed. After some time, he felt her grip around his neck slacken and was pulled from his stupor, the Spymaster in him reawakened. Graceful as ever, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her so that her head remained undisturbed, nestled beneath his chin. She was drifting in that hazy twilight of half-sleep and half-waking, drawing long, steady breaths that tickled his neck.

Faintly, he was aware of another presence in the tent, his High Lord at his flank, regarding him with caution. Waiting for you to snap, his shadows provided their own insight. But now was not the time for that, not when the foundation of his entire universe had shifted so dramatically. Not when he held an extension of his soul, his mate, broken in his arms. The fury that lived beneath his skin, always leashed but consuming once released, would have to be reined in and tucked away for later use. It did not serve them now.

He turned then, wordlessly gliding past his High Lord, his usual frigid countenance returning. Rhys, to his credit, yielded, stepping out of his path, and watching him turn to smoke without a word of protest. Whether he sensed the snap of the bond or read his brother’s body language, he knew better than to interfere with Azriel’s mission.

It wasn’t until they arrived at the House of the Wind, deep within the safety of the city, that he allowed himself to take further stock of her state. She was light, far, far too delicate in his arms.

He breathed in, seeking out the soothing smell of honey, lavender, and clove that used to center him. Instead, the heavy, metallic scent of blood, tears, filth, and terror coated his tongue, suffocating her sweet scent. Later, the smell, acrid and stinging, would return to him in his dreams, smothering him until he could hardly recall what she was supposed to smell like. Few things made Azriel’s stomach turn, but when that dream came, when he woke gasping, the phantom stench lingering in his memory, he would find himself hunched in the bathing room, heaving his dinner.

“Azriel.” Several voices were calling his name, pleading for his attention, but only one pulled him from his ruminations. “It’s okay.”

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

OC POV

“It’s okay,” I whispered, a reassurance meant only for his ears. To an outsider, he remained relatively poised, his handsome features portraying only a hint of distress. Our bond, newly forged and alight with the intensity of our reunion, however, pulsed with despair. His dread traveled down the golden thread, settling into my chest as if it were my own. Others were approaching us, their voices laden with concern, but he remained frozen, looking at me without seeing me. I tried again, “Azriel,” I called, trying to sound self-assured, “it’s okay. Everything is okay.”

That seemed to stir him, and he was moving again, shouting for someone to fetch a healer. My head was still spinning, the vertigo exacerbated by our swift journey in the shadows, and I swallowed down nausea, shutting my eyes. Despite the ache in my neck and head, despite the anxiety rolling off my mate, I was overcome with a feeling of relief. I allowed myself to drift, vaguely aware of several sets of gentle hands on my body, prodding at my injuries. The exhaustion of the day’s events settled into my bones, and I faded, the warmth of the bond guiding me into a dreamless sleep.

Golden light filtered through glass doors to my right, casting a soft glow on the slumbering figure at my bedside. I studied his face as I recalled the previous day’s events, matching my breathing to his own, steady pattern. I was in the House of Wind, that much was clear, but the bed where I lay was far larger than my own, designed to accommodate a pair of wings. Despite the expanse of free space at my side, he was perched in a plush velvet chair pulled from across the room. I was contemplating how to rise from bed without disturbing his peaceful rest when the door behind him creaked open and he startled, jumping from his seat and whirling around on the intruder in one fluid motion. His wings flared, blocking my view of the visitor, but after a moment, they were tucked in again, revealing the face of our High Lady.

Feyre made a valiant effort to conceal her amusement as she stepped in, placing a tray of food on the bench at the foot of the bed. “Good morning,” I croaked, my voice gravely from disuse. Azriel whirled around once again, the intensity from the previous night returning to his eyes.

“It’s actually almost sunset,” Feyre corrected me. Nearly an entire day lost, then. “How are you feeling?”

My eyes stayed trained on his as I answered her, the rasp leaving my voice as I spoke. “Pretty good, actually. Madja did a good job.” I still ached, there was no denying that and my body felt heavy as if an invisible force was pressing it into the mattress, but the sharp, searing pain that had accompanied my every breath as of late was gone.

“I’m glad,” When I finally tore my gaze away from his and looked at Feyre, I could have sworn moisture gathering in her eyes. “We’re glad to have you back.” She gave a pointed look to Azriel who remained frozen at the edge of my bed. “I’ll leave you two, but shout if you need anything,” Azriel said nothing and I gave her a grateful smile before she slipped out the door.

“Sit,” I tried to sound nonchalant when my eyes found his again. Unlike the night before, when the bond was brand new and ripped wide open, I could sense restraint on the other end. He swallowed thickly and sank back into the chair. “Are you okay?”

He let out a bark of surprise, almost a laugh, and looked almost angry when he replied, “You’re asking me if I’m okay? You asked me that last night too. I’m not the one who…” His voice cut off and he looked down, his stare settling on his hands, clasped in front of him. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” It was my turn to stare at him, utterly perplexed. “What do you have to be sorry for? You brought me home.” He swallowed thickly and leaned back, his gaze settling on our intertwined hands.

“I failed you,” his voice was rough, and he kept his head bowed. A heavy feeling settled in my chest, and I couldn’t decide if it was his or my own. “I didn’t keep you safe and then I took so fucking long to find you and…”. He moved to draw his hand away and I tightened my grip, ghosting my thumb over the cool, scarred flesh. “And then you get stuck with me as a mate.” His voice broke and I felt a tear slip down my cheek.

“You saved me, Azriel. It’s okay.” I knew he struggled with feelings of inadequacy. He kept his mask firmly in place most of the time, but I could see the deep-rooted insecurities born from the brutality of his upbringing. The spymaster held himself to a high standard in all regards and failures of any sort ate at him endlessly. There were many times over the years where I had wished to erase that pain in my magnificent shadowsinger, but now more than ever my heart ached as watched him stew in his guilt, that infamous, icy rage turned inwards. Desperate to interrupt his spiral of self-doubt, I reached out to the bond that hummed between us and gave an experimental tug. His head snapped up and he stared at me, vulnerability as I had never seen shining in his eyes. This went deeper than one failed mission and I needed to choose my words carefully.

“I knew you’d come,” I said after a moment, reaching out to cup his cheek with the hand not gripping his. “I wasn’t scared, at least not most of the time, because I knew you would come for me.” I reached within myself, for the affection and warmth I had harbored for him for so long, and pushed it outward, willing it to him. “If anything, I was scared that something would happen to you. That you would get hurt rescuing me from my mistake. But you pulled it off, of course.” Silver lined his blazing hazel eyes, but he didn’t look away as I continued. “You saved me, just like I knew you would. Because you’re the Spymaster of the Night Court. Because you’re the Shadowsinger. Because you’re Azriel. Brave, cunning, magnificent, kind Azriel, and I am lucky to have you as my mate.”

I wasn’t sure if I hugged him or he hugged me, but I was in his arms in an instant, his face buried in the crook of my neck. We sat like that for a long time, neither of us breaking the silence. It was Azriel who spoke, his head still bowed to rest on my shoulder, which was now damp. “I love you.” I resisted the urge to sob as he pulled back, taking my face in between his rough hands. “I have for a long time, and I will never fail you like that again. I promise.”

I rested my forehead against his, listening to the thundering of his heart for a few, blissful seconds before I made my reply. “I love you too, mate.”

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

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#Azriel x Reader #Azriel x You #Azriel Fanfic #Azriel Fanfiction #Azriel #Azriel Shadowsinger #Azriel Imagine ACOTAR x Reader #ACOTAR x You #ACOTAR Fanfic #ACOTAR Fanfiction #ACOTAR #ACOTAR Imagine #my stuff #ff

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danpuff-ao3 · 2 months

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Snarry-a-Thon 2022

Snarry-a-Thon is an annual fest of Snarry goodness that always brings so much creativity and joy in the Snarry community. I am forever blown away by how much talent and passion Snarry-lovers have. With that in mind, I wanted to create some special recs for a fest near and dear to my heart.

With that, here are my Top 5 picks for the 2022 fest! But first...

Disclaimer: my rec lists are created based on my personal experiences and preferences. There are plenty of other stories and authors who are quite good and deserve just as much love. This is not meant to be an objective “best of the best” list, but the subjective opinion of a longtime reader and fangirl.

Foundations (or, Where Do We Go From Here?)

by avioleta (@avioleta). Rated: E. Words: 17,788. First time. Hogwarts 8th year. Jealousy. Angst with a happy ending.

After the war, Severus retreats to the solitude of his dungeons. There are potions to brew, repair work to be done, and lessons to plan. But then Harry Potter begins turning up at all hours, wanting little more—it seems—than to irritate Severus. Severus doesn’t know what Potter wants. But he doesn’t know what he wants, either. From the original prompt: Severus knows it’s not love or even affection that brings Harry Potter to his rooms at night.

The Potter Phenomenon

by ines_iz. Rated: E. Words: 31,548. Romance. Internalized homophobia. Angst. Eventual fluff. Idiots in love. Professor Harry Potter. Pining. Jealousy. Coming out.

When Harry Potter, queer star of the Wizarding World, returns to Hogwarts as the new Defence professor, Severus Snape is not happy. In fact, he is positively outraged. Not only does Severus have to endure the man's obnoxious behaviour (not to mention his ridiculous sense of fashion), but he also ends up being dragged into Potter's attention-seeking plans — and, ultimately, is forced to face a few demons of his own. Or: Harry Potter Goes Gay (and the entirety of Hogwarts Goes Gay with him)

A Trick of the Mind

by PinaNaponi (@vulnerasanenturmyprince). Rated: E. Words: 40,585. UST. Postwar. Scars. Pining. Legilimency. Brief Harry/Ginny.

Ever since the horcrux in his head is gone, Legilimency comes easy to Harry. It’s nearly laughable how easy it is, considering how much he used to struggle with it back in his fifth year. But he reckons half of that had been Snape’s fault anyway. Who on earth would enjoy the nasty git invading their mind? But as life as Harry has known it changes, Harry’s opinion on the matter changes with it ― rather drastically so if he’s being perfectly honest.

With Aloha

by silvereye5 (@silvereye5). Rated: E. Words: 26,793. Fluff. Drinking.

Severus and Harry are booked on the same gay singles cruise.

No Defence Against the Dark

by zalil. Rated: E. Words: 1,732. Established relationship. Demonic possession. Body modification.

After handling his DADA material, Harry might have changed a bit lately. Severus doesn’t approve. Or does he?

Bonus: Shameless Self-Rec

Listen...it's okay to celebrate oneself, too, okay?

Contempt

by danpuff. Rated: E. Words: 20,400. Enemies to Lovers. Virginity loss. Cheating. Love/Hate. Harry/Ginny. POV Harry Potter.

Harry hates Snape, and he always will. (He will, won’t he?) Playlist | Podfic

Snarry-a-Thon 2022 Masterlist

#danpuff recs #snarry #thon recs #snarry-a-thon #snarry-a-thon 22

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teecupangel · 1 year

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i have no idea what's going on i just saw an au idea about dc and assassin's creed n suddenly all my senses are alerted hello hi please do let me know more about it hi

Join the club. I don’t know what’s usually going on, I’m just writing what my mind comes up with when I’m given all these absolutely fantastic fic prompts XD

For those wondering:

The “Desmond gets adopted by Batman” idea that started this.

The “Desmond gets punted into the DC ‘verse and follows Constantine because he has no other plans” idea that spawned from that.

Slightly connected: the "Desmond becomes BFF with the Devil" (the Netflix show) idea where I remind everyone that Edward Kenway’s mocap and voice actor is John Constantine which has this little addition.

(Since we can go anywhere with where the hell in DC lore Desmond gets punted to, we’ll focus this AU after John leaves the Arrowverse but we’ll be keeping everything vague-ish so you guys can decide which DC ‘verse you’d prefer this to be in)

More unorganized Desmond in DC ‘verse with special focus on John Constantine’s ‘sphere of influence’

John’s leading theory is Desmond is possessed by various demons, maybe even a legion, and he’s letting Desmond tag along because it’s obvious that Desmond is still in control (most of the time) so John’s curious about this ‘anomaly’.

Also, the fact that his name is Desmond and he used to be a bartender makes John believes this is some kind of sick joke orchestrated by a high-ranking demon or one of his many enemies.

He still believes Desmond is an innocent who got wrapped up in all of these so he’s trying to help… in his own John Constatine-ish way.

Which includes (from @escapism-and-disassociation) muttering Latin exorcism chants like it’s a normal conversation and Desmond (using the knowledge he got from his Bleeds) just stares at him tiredly and continues their conversation before John started doing his exorcism in Latin just to screw with John.

John also tried making Desmond read the actual exorcism chants and Desmond just reads them in a tone of a Renaissance noble so bored with learning Latin and just wanting to go outside and play.

Many of John’s allies also think Desmond is possessed and it doesn’t help when Desmond likes screwing with them by changing his language midsentence on purpose and getting them to believe he’s ‘speaking tongues’.

Desmond treats all these theories of him being possessed with a shrug and a “yeah, sounds about right” because, in a sense, that is what the Bleeding Effect feels like at times.

Desmond and Chas like to hang out whenever John does his thing and they have nothing to do. Chas’ wife thinks Desmond is a good influence on Chas. Desmond is absolutely not since he’s been teaching him Ratonhnhaké:ton’s takedowns.

Speaking of Chas, Desmond and Chas do wonder if Desmond’s laser beam would work on him. John had to forbid the two from trying it out “for science”.

Zed has been having premonitions of Desmond even before Desmond got thrown into their world. One of them includes her painting of the exact moment that Desmond died in his original world. Another is a painting of Desmond that she insists was the painting of a god.

John has a lot of theories about it ranging from the main demon possessing Desmond used to be an old god or a demon who once pretended to be an old god to maybe Desmond is destined to be a god and the demons inside him are stopping that.

Desmond believes the god thing is a reference to how he would have been seen as a god back in his world if he had let the world burn.

Either way, Zed doesn’t like to come into contact with Desmond because she always gets this intense burning sensation before her psychic abilities kick in and she sees visions of Desmond’s life back in his world.

John likes to use Desmond as bait. Desmond doesn’t mind. His Bleeds does though.

John thinks Desmond’s Bleed of Edward is making fun of him, having the same accent and tone as him but drunker.

John can’t stand Desmond’s Bleed of Altaïr because he mainly asks so many questions and still finds a logical ‘scientific’ explanation to every mythical thing they encounter.

On the other hand, Desmond’s Bleed of Ezio tires John because that man likes to ask about God and how heaven works and…

In a nutshell, John prefers it when Desmond takes control.

To be fair, John is okay with Desmond’s Bleed of Ratonhnhaké:ton because Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn’t bother with small talk and focuses on the task at hand.

John likes Desmond’s Bleed of Haytham the most though because Haytham is polite but with a sharp tongue.

#assassin's creed #desmond miles #john constantine #dc universe #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot

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downn-in-flames · 1 year

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kanej/soc fic masterlist

needed a new pinned post so here goes:

big reputations cinematic universe

big reputations [wip]

the crows in their senior year at ketterdam university as the dramatic (and often drunk) little shits they are. a chatfic that has spiraled wildly out of my hands, the crows are in charge now.

↳ high above the whole scene [wip]

prose content from big reputations to fill in the gaps.

↳ caught up in a moment [wip]

more prose content from big reputations to fill in the gaps, but this time it’s all just kanej spicy moments because people keep requesting them and i am more than happy to oblige.

↳ i want your midnights [2.2k words]

prose content from big reputations, but just new year’s eve and also it was a collaborative thing.

↳ forever with your hands in my pockets [wip, helnik]

the big reputations helnik origin story.

↳ just wrong enough to make it feel right [wip, zoyalai]

zoya and nikolai as moot court partners in law school, also vaguely set in the brcu.

multi-chapters

treacherous [30 chapters, 25.3k words]

flashes of kaz and inej’s relationship over the years, in the choose your own adventure style of ‘do i read this in the order of the song lyrics or chronologically.’ 98% fluff.

↳ begin again [2.5k words]

somehow treacherous prompted kanej babyfic.

midnights [13 chapters, 16.4k words]

another set of kanej flashes that can be read in two different orders, this time written pre-midnights release with only the track names to determine the vibes. slightly less but still mostly fluff.

↳ midnights (3am edition) [7 chapters, 8.2k words]

midnights scenes (or adjacent scenes) told from different povs. expect three gut punches.

↳ midnights (the late night edition) [1k words]

one final midnights fic because obviously i had to write one for ‘you’re losing me.’

one-shots

carry your baggage up my street [4.8k words]

kanej is renegade by the national and taylor swift. change my mind. (you won’t).

castles crumbling [2.9k words]

kanej baby but make it hurt just a little.

come morning light, you and i’ll be safe and sound [3.4k words]

kaz and inej have enemies, they’re each other’s protectors, and both of them deserve some damn decent sleep.

die for you in secret [5.3k words]

a 5+1 in which kaz keeps all his soft thoughts close to his chest until finally he doesn’t.

forever is the sweetest con [2 chapters, 3.6k words]

there’s a wedding for tax incentive purposes. kaz sends jesper through the entire range of human emotion in the span of approximately 10 minutes, purely for shits and giggles. now with bonus inej content.

i could be the way forward only if they pay for it [1.1k words]

kaz buys a ship. for reasons.

keep your brittle heart warm [2.1k words]

kaz reveals his true tell. once upon a time this was baby’s first kanej fic. now look where that got us.

the end of a movie i’ve seen before [3.3k words]

a modern au and the final result of ‘i wonder if i can gaslight readers twice in one fic.’ also the only non-taylor swift title of them all.

what if i told you i’m a mastermind [5k words]

another modern au in which kaz schemes to win over inej, failing to realize that he is not in fact the one pulling the strings here.

wishing for right now [1.1k words]

genuinely obscene levels of cottagecore fluff.

you had some tricks up your sleeve [2.6k words]

inej wears silks and gets a new knife. that’s really all that matters.

#what's wild is that some of these extremely bad summaries #are still somehow better than the summaries i used for them on ao3 #kanej #kanej fic #kanej fanfiction #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #six of crows fic #six of crows fanfiction #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fic

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puzzleddonkey · 1 year

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The Boss

Wanted a way to add the main Rabbids of the Mario crossover in a way that didn't change them too much, especially keeping their combat skills. So why not create a rabbid gang that they're a part of, one led by that one ugly-ass large rabbid from RRR2. Also decided to give a reason for so many conflicting rabbids of power despite there being an emperor (Jabbid), that reason being that the emperor is in a coma, which created a massive power vacuum within the rabbid empire. Since age means nothing to the creatures of the glade my fanon will have the rabbid emperor as the original ruler of all rabbid kind. He wasn't a good ruler, but he wasn't a bad one either, his only orders being more forms of entertainment and more food. The fateful day that all Rabbids snapped would have been the day the creatures of the Glade pulled their cruelest prank against the bunnies, which was to trick their emperor into eating tons upon tons of fireworks. As a result, the emperor, as all Rabbids describe it, "exploded and went everywhere". His injury would create the fury that has mutated The rabbids of today. Creatures of the glade who've heard of the fall of the rabbids all reach the same assumption, that the cruel prank was the first and only thing to have killed a rabbid. It was a horrible thought to all who dwelled on it, but unbeknownst to them, the emperor was still alive, the injury only knocking him out so severely that he hadn't woken up for centuries (how did they only slip into a coma fully intact when during the event they quite literally blew up into a million disgusting pieces? I dont know, I'm not a rabbid). This incident would mark the start of the rabbid dictatorshi ruled by the one-red-eyed rabbid, which evolved all rabbid kind to alien-like heights. Other powerful figures under the rule of The Dictator would be born, Pink The Exterminator, and Sergei The Commander. Unfortunately, both would inevitably be defeated by Rayman. Which prompted their flee from the Glade and rushed Invasion of Earth. The two secondary leader's failures would force them to avoid taking part in their new Earth-related task, allowing a new secondary leader to be appointed. The Boss. He would be responsible for guiding rabbids into the assimilation of human culture. And he would be very successful, however with his success came the decline of the rabbid dictatorship. No more tasks left The Boss out of a role. Which was upsetting enough for them before they would suddenly be banished from the Mothership when the barrancos took rule. He was deeply offended, but with that offense came the idea that he was better off without the empire, deciding to start his own. A gang settled in the deepest sewers of New York, aggressive but not at all human despising, they just take and do whatever they wanted. It was a fulfilling community even with their immoral customs. However, when suddenly all Rabbids were being recalled to the Mothership for war, they would not only refuse but promise to ensure no rabbid was being dragged back to that hell hole for pointless wrath. The Rabbid Resistance would be created. They would shelter and protect the rabbids who did not want to return to the mothership, having fought off many trained soldiers with their own trained grunts. The most powerful and skilled of them all were...I haven't given them designs or names yet, but basically the main rabbid cast of the Mario crossover lol (Mario, Luigi, Peach, Rosalina, and Yoshi). The other Rabbids depicted as enemies in the game would be the trained soldiers/assassins of the Rabbid Dictatorship in the fanon, all given the task to retrieve the resisting Rabbids by force to suffer the consequences of their refusal to join the war. The most skilled and powerful of them all would, of course, be the spark hunters in different names and designs, all just titled "hunters". They would've been trained by Lady Beauté herself (gives reason to why they're all not only feminine presenting but extremely sadistic).

#rayman #rabbids #raving rabbids #rabbids invasion #raving rabbids oc #rabbids oc #rayman plague of the mad hare #doodle #my art #sketch #original character #rayman oc #oc

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docheros · 2 months

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"Always giving each other black* roses for valentine's day, when one day you see that you've got red roses instead"

Pairing: Antihero (Anti/Jackie)

Requested by: no one, but i dedicate also to @the-pastel-kitsune

Prompt list!

Taglist: @dapperstein @glass-trash-bab @uhhbeans

A/N: *originally it was yellow roses, but i decided to change to black to fit them better. also, finally some fic posting lmao

Someone knocked on Anti's bedroom door.

Okay, not “someone”, it was just Jameson.

– Yeah? – he opened the door, deep dark circles visible on his face.

“Did you pull an all-nighter again?” Jameson frowned, and frowned even more seeing the other roll his eyes.

– We already had this conversation and I don’t feel like having it again – he yawned – what do you want?

“Roses arrived for you.” Anti chuckled, he had almost forgotten.

– From Jackie?

"Yes, but..."

– Let me go and see – he passed by Jameson, not paying attention to what he had to say – or rather, sign.

That was the first year that Jackie was the first to send the black roses, he was curious to see the little card that accompanied the bouquet, always with the same “hate” punchline. The hero always thought he was doing something new, even though if it had been the same joke for the last 3 years.

(Anti only remembered this because he kept the cards.)

He arrived at the living room and stopped in front of the table, surprised. JJ reached him.

“I tried to warn you” he shrugged, handing the bouquet of red roses into Anti’s warm hands “but you didn’t pay attention.”

– What… what the… – bewildered, he picked up the little card hanging on the pink paper.

“To my favorite enemy, who had the audacity to steal my heart – JBM”

Romantic son of a bitch.

#jackie #anti #i'm writing!!#antihero

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aftgficrec · 10 months

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Anonymous asked: Do you have any recommendations for any new twinyard bonding fics, with or without Nicky. Or even any with Nicky and one twin?

NB: original ask here in new twinyards bonding post

We’ve got a trove of Nicky and the twins for you, including a WIP age reversal fic where college-aged Andrew and Aaron raise young Nicky. It is ‘Home’ by allfortheBoyds. -A

previous recs: Nicky & the twins

Nicky bonding with both or one twin here

Nicky’s relationship with the twins here

new canon compliant bonding: Aaron & Andrew & Nicky here

‘Travelers’ series Part 4 here

‘My brother under the sun’ here

‘Abject apathy,’ ‘Oh Brother Of Mine,’ ‘Atrophy,’ and ‘Promises Kept’ here

‘Aaron Minyard Ficlets’ and ‘Frazzled Bird’ (completed) here

‘a working thing’ and ‘AFTG/TFC minifics…nicky's pills’ here

‘Step Up/Dance AU’ here

‘This is our beginning’ here

‘We're the giggle at a funeral’ here

‘This is After’ and ‘innocence died screaming’ here

‘Direct Lines to The Heart’ here

‘get what you give’ here

‘Microsleep’ here

‘Odd Eye’ here

‘You know I don't care’ here

‘on the taste of home (let it go down easy)’ here

‘Paper Cut Hearts’ here

‘I Found Love Where It Wasn’t Supposed to Be’ here

Nicky & Aaron

‘Aaron loses his shit’ here

‘Aaron figuring out that he’s asexual…’ here

‘Misunderstandings’ here

‘Wear it on your finger’ here

‘aaron minyard + memories of nicky’ here

‘skeletons in the water’ here

‘Five Times Aaron’s Soul Tried to Find a Home…’ here

Nicky & Andrew

Nicky and Andrew’s relationship here

‘maybe we could’ here

‘Something Good’ here

‘Enough’ here

‘The One Where Andrew Tries to Kill Nicky’ here

‘Affection can be shown in so many ways,’ ‘It's a Home,’ and ‘The World on Mute’ here

‘I am not a library’ here

‘Truth Time’ here

‘Nicky sees Andrew dance’ here

‘Treacherous’ and ‘Andrew Minyard...does not have a crush’ here

‘Mixed Tape,’ ‘Nicky goes to the bank,’ ‘before nicky goes back to germany,’ ‘Andrew kept Nicky close,’ and ‘Andrew appreciates Nicky’s selflessness’ here

‘Just closed eyes with nothing behind’ here

‘everything has changed’ here

‘That One Time Andrew Made Nicky Glad…’ and ‘Nicky & Andrew prompt’ here

‘don't look away’ here

‘hiding out at the winter formal’ here

‘white soap’ and ‘Bloom Where You're Planted’ here

‘losing battle’ and ‘married to my enemy’ series here

‘haven't got a clue’ and ‘Congrats on the sex’ here

‘The Morning AUs Chapter 25: Conversion Camp AU’ here