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softguarnere · 9 months

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Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 25: Udelida

Summary: His face is pale, yet between his shivering and the fat snowflakes that flurry between them, something like a smile might be pulling at the edge of his mouth. “Well, Private Driver, it looks like you’re no longer one of the only men without a Purple Heart.” A/N: Chapter title means "secret" in Cherokee Warnings: grief, death, injury, language, blood, war Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @latibvles @lady-cheeky @hxad-ovxr-hxart @ithinkabouttzu @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs

Belgium, 1945

One summer morning when Zenie was seventeen, Granny had announced that she would not be going to church because she had woken up with a headache, but would Zenie please bring her a serving of Mrs. Dill’s delicious banana pudding back from the picnic that would follow the service? Squeezing her hand, Zenie had promised that she would, and Bobby’s mom had been so kind as to send all the banana pudding leftovers home with Zenie.

Leftovers that sat forgotten on the kitchen table spoiling for two days after Zenie got home. Granny had more than a headache. Mama said that she must have passed peacefully during a morning nap.

They buried her the next day, up in Bird Town, on the Boundary, surrounded by her family and right next to her husband.

Zenie did not leave her room for three days after they returned home. Not until Mama came to her, to hold her, to tell her that Granny wouldn’t want her to waste away like this.

“You were very young when your grandfather passed away,” Mama said.

“I remember him, though.” Zenie, who had been lying so that she faced the window, finally turned to face her mother where she sat in between her bed and Marilyn’s. “Everyone thinks that I don’t, but I do. One memory, anyway.”

Mama had seemed surprised by this. “I didn’t know that . . . Do you remember what your grandmother said when he died?”

Zenie shook her head, her loose hair rustling against her pillow.

“She said that the best way to honor his memory was to go on living our lives.” Mama moved then, sitting on the edge of Zenie’s bed and taking her hand. Her hands were chapped from all her work as a laundress, her grip firm, like she could force understanding into Zenie’s hands, into her soul, if she just held on tightly enough. “There’s nothing that we can do to bring them back, either of them. But Granny would hate to see you so sad. She wanted nothing more than to see you happy.”

All Zenie had done those past three days is cry, yet somehow, warm tears sprang into her eyes.

“But she made me happy.” The lump in her throat made it hard to talk, but Zenie managed to force the words out in a whisper.

“I know.”

“I’m so lonely, Mama.”

“I know, baby. But do you know what?” When Zenie shook her head again, Mama brought her hands up to her lips and pressed a sad kiss to them. She took a deep breath, one that rattled the sadness in her chest a little. “She will always be with you.”

“She’s gone.”

Mama shook her head. “No. She’s in here.” She tapped Zenie’s forehead. “And in here.” She tapped her heart. “Whenever you need her, that’s where she’ll be.”

Zenie had burst into sobs then, had buried her head in her pillow and allowed herself to be shaken. If what Mama said was true, then why did it hurt so much? If Granny was with her, shouldn’t she feel her? It should feel as if her grandmother was giving her a hug, like she always had a hand on Zenie’s shoulder, guiding her – not like a whole piece of her was missing.

Where are you? Zenie would wonder sometimes, alone at night. Why can’t I feel you?

In the letter that Zenie had gotten on D-Day, Mama had said the same thing.

This is different, though. Zenie knows exactly where her friends have gone. And she wants them to come back.

If Granny were with her – really with her – then she would know exactly what to do, the right thing to say that would make everything better. No – if Granny were here, none of this would have ever happened to begin with. Zenie never would have run away . . . But then if she had never run away, she never would have met Bill, Joe, any of her friends. She never would have met Shifty. Her heart aches when she thinks of his smile, of the way that he gently covered her eyes up on the mountain back in Clinchco.

Is this all her fault, somehow? Or would all of this – all of this devastation that currently surrounds her in this forest – have happened anyway?

Oh, Granny! Zenie thinks, lifting her eyes up to the dreary sky overhead. I think I’ve messed everything up.

There isn’t much time for her to wallow in this thought and the flood of emotions that it brings. Someone stands over her foxhole, gently saying her name.

“Tommy?” Lipton says for what is definitely not the first time. How long has she been down here? And how long has he been trying to get her attention?

Zenie raises her eyes to him. Now that she’s finally acknowledged his presence, the sergeant squats down in front of the foxhole, his voice quiet, his words only for her.

“Hey, Tommy. Do you need anything?”

Everything that she wants is just out of reach. She shakes her head.

The edges of Lipton’s mouth pull down in a frown, but only for a second. “Thomas, Captain Winters has asked to see you.”

This gets Zenie’s attention. Through the dullness that courses through her, she catches her heart speeding up a bit. Her voice sounds very small and weak when she asks, “For what?”

“I don’t know,” Lipton says. “But I’m sending Liebgott over there now, to act as his runner for the day. Why don’t you walk with him?”

Though his words end with a question mark, there’s the definite sense that this isn’t a suggestion, but rather, a gentle order. Even with everything that runs through her head, Zenie can understand that plain as day. Her hands are shaking slightly less when she puts her helmet back on and accepts the hand that Sergeant Lipton offers her to help her out of her foxhole.

Besides his excellent haircuts, Zenie doesn’t interact with Liebgott very much. He’s funny and he’s tough, but ever since that day that he confronted her about not showering in front of the other men, Zenie has been somewhat avoidant of his observant gaze.

When she approaches, Liebgott gives her a onceover. It doesn’t feel like he’s dissecting her, though, like he’s trying to figure out what her deal is. Instead, there’s something somber in his gaze. It’s something of a surprise when he extends a hand, gently clapping her on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry about your friends, Tommy.”

Zenie blinks, taken aback. Not sure what to say, she nods. She might mutter a halfhearted thanks.

“They were good guys,” Liebgott says. “I mean, Bill and I had our differences, but he was a hell of a good NCO.” He gives her a sideways glance as they walk. “Anyway, I hope you’re okay.”

Though they’re not particularly close, Zenie gets the feeling that he really means this. “Thanks,” she manages. “I –“ Not sure what else to say, she nods instead. “Yeah.”

As they approach the CP, Zenie begins to come back to herself. Back at the foxhole she hadn’t considered why Captain Winters, someone she’s also not particularly close with, might be calling her out here. Throughout the war, Zenie has been careful to maintain a careful distance between herself and Easy Company’s most beloved leader. She likes Winters, but she’s well aware that he would hold her fate in his hands if her secret were to get out.

And now he wants to speak to her directly. Her throat goes dry again.

Part of her expected the captain to round on her the moment she approached, to have her seized and sent away at once, but instead she finds Winters and Nixon bundled in coats, shivering against the cold and talking amiably.

“Ah, there they are,” Nixon says. Just as usual, his voice is jovial, but his expression is hard to make out behind his beard.

Winters stands to greet them, even though he doesn’t have to. “Liebgott, are you my runner today?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Excellent.” With a gloved hand, Winters hands him an envelope and asks him to deliver it to the new aid station. (New aid station? Zenie finds herself wondering. Did they stop using the hospital?) Then, Winters gives her his full attention. His face is pale, yet between his shivering and the fat snowflakes that flurry between them, something like a smile might be pulling at the edge of his mouth. “Well, Private Driver, it looks like you’re no longer one of the only men without a Purple Heart.”

Oh, God, here we go, Zenie thinks. “Yes, Sir.”

“I was informed that you didn’t even stay at the aid station for a full day.” Winters makes a noise that, at first, Zenie thinks is a cough from the cold weather. But his shoulders continue jogging and his face breaks into a full smile. “Is that true?”

This certainly is not where Zenie imagined this conversation was about to go. “Yes, Sir. I only had minor wounds, so I came back with Doc Roe after he patched me up.”

“Goddamn,” Captain Nixon says, also with a smile. “You and Joe Toye, tough as nails.”

Being called tough, being compared to someone as tough as Joe, takes Zenie aback. But not as much as the image that now appears in her mind at the mention of her friend – images of blood-stained snow and other things that don’t seem real.

“Driver?” Winters’ smile disappears. “I was sorry to hear about Bill and Joe. I know they were your friends.”

For the second time, Zenie wonders how long she sat in that foxhole while the world crumbled around her. Also for the second time, she finds herself at a loss for words at someone’s offered sympathies. So few people offered condolences after Granny’s passing; accepting comforts is no simple task, she’s quickly learning.

“On that note,” Winters says, picking up the thread of the conversation. “Easy Company is down two excellent sergeants. And I think I know just the man who can help pick up the slack.”

“Sir?”

“Congratulations, Sergeant Driver,” Winters extends his hand, giving hers a firm shake.

Wait, what? Like so much of the morning, this doesn’t feel real. Still, Zenie returns the captain’s smile as best she can, and even shakes Captain Nixon’s hand as well. She came to the CP expecting to be confronted and punished. Instead, she leaves with a Purple Heart and a promotion. What a day.

The thought keeps her preoccupied until she returns to the company. She falls into her own foxhole this time. It’s empty, but that’s okay – it gives her time to figure out how to tell her friends.

She’s just sat down when a thump! signals a person taking a seat beside her. Expecting Shifty, she turns to face him, the news on the tip of her tongue, when she recognizes Babe next to her instead.

The Philadelphian smiles. “Hiya, Zena!”

For a split second, all Zenie can do is blink in surprise. While her mind tries to catch up, her body springs into action, with all her hand-to-hand combat training from Toccoa and her years of being the youngest sibling rushing to the forefront. Babe is slammed back against the foxhole with Zenie’s right forearm while her left hand clamps itself over his mouth. Her friend’s eyes go wide with surprise. He looks as shocked as she feels when she realizes what she’s done.

Now that she’s got him here, she’s not sure what to do. For an uncomfortable minute they just stare at each other in shock until Zenie feels something warm and wet touch her fingers. She springs away from Babe, back to her side of the foxhole, wiping her hand on the leg of her pants.

“Ew! Did you just lick me?!”

“Well what the hell else was I supposed to do? You looked ready to kill me!”

“Because you – “ They’ve both raised their voices. Zenie pops her head over the rim of the foxhole to see if anyone that could have overheard them is listening in. No one seems to be paying attention. She slumps down into the earth and hisses, “Why did you call me that?”

Babe tilts his head. “Your name?”

“It is, but no one can know!” Only three people know, and one of them is gone. “Wait. How did you know?”

Babe has the decency to look sheepish. “Okay, don’t be mad. I said don’t be mad! You already look angry.”

Zenie can’t really tell what her face might look like at present. This is nothing more than another unexpected event in the longest and most perplexing day of her life. Still, for Babe’s sake, she tries not to look upset.

“Bill told me – “

“Son of a bitch! He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone!”

“You said you wouldn’t get mad,” Babe insists again. He rushes on before they can fall into more bickering. “Bill was just worried about you, was all. It’s a big secret – a dangerous one – and he thought that having two people watching your back would make you safer.” Silence fills the space between them as Zenie absorbs it all. A small smile tugs at Babe’s lips as he adds, “If it makes you feel any better, Bill threatened to kill me if I told anyone. I’m only tellin’ you because I wanted you to know that even though he’s gone, I’ve got you covered.”

She trusted Bill with her secret. And, admittedly, she wasn’t wrong to. He may have shared it with someone else, but he was looking out for her, just like he has been since they first met. He’s gone, but one more person who knows her secret is still here. And who knows? Maybe Babe knowing her secret will make things easier.

“Well when the war is over, I’m counting on you to take me to Philly so that I can give him a good smack upside the head for telling my secret,” Zenie says.

Babe laughs. “Of course.”

Zenie sighs, squaring him up. Babe knowing will make things between them easier, she reasons again. Besides, he never told Bill about all their sneaking out to dance whenever he put them on guard duty. Surely, he can keep this secret just as easily. “You swear you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.” One of his gingery eyebrows quirks in question. “Besides Bill, does anyone else know?”

“Just Doc Roe and Shifty.”

“Hmmm . . .” Babe considers this for a moment, squinting down at his hands. Just as Zenie is about to break the silence, he looks up. “So that’s why you and Gene are always sneakin’ off, huh?”

Zenie nods. “He checks in with me. Gives me bandages for my chest, health sponges, if I need them.”

Babe raises his eyebrows. “Is that it?” When Zenie nods again, something flickers across his face for just second before he asks, “Is there something going on between you two?”

“What, me and Gene? No! He’s just – “ Just helping me out, Zenie almost says. But can that really describe the full extent of what Eugene has done for her? She amends her words. “ – a friend.”

This is considered for another quiet moment before Babe nods. “Okay. Okay, well that’s good, because I was worried that maybe you two had something goin’ on.” His cheeks turn the same bright color as his hair. “I’ve been, uh – well, I’ve been tryin’ to get his attention for a while now, and I didn’t want to get in the way of anything that you two might have.”

A memory hits her then, of returning to the company with Gene after he brought her back from the church in Bastogne. Shock had been evident on Babe’s face, at what Zenie had assumed had been her unexpected return. But now, thinking about how she and Gene had reappeared together . . . and not even for the first time, considering how careful the medic has always been with whisking her off to aid stations so that she could have some privacy. No wonder Babe thought that they were a couple!

“You’re good to go,” Zenie assures him.

Babe huffs a little laugh, brows furrowing. “You ain’t bothered by –“ He makes a vague gesture. “ – by my . . . what I just said?”

I’ve been tryin’ to get his attention for a while now. Zenie knows that feeling. Her mind flashes back to her first kiss, to Lucy Jordan’s kind smile and soft lips. She also knows how good that feeling is when the attention is caught, when it’s returned in kind.

Funny, how when she first joined the army, she had been excited to find someone like herself in Shifty, with his family’s mixed background. And now she’s found someone like herself in Babe, too.

“Babe, I would be a hypocrite if I was bothered. I mean, look at the situation I’m in.” This seems to calm her friend’s nerves, because his eyebrows unfurrow and a shyer version of his usual smile finds its way back to his lips. “Besides, I think Shifty would be pretty upset if I had something going with Gene.”

“Shifty!” A hand flies to Babe’s face and he laughs into his palm. “Oh, goddamn! That really explains why you’re always glancin’ at him like that.” He laughs in that way that must be a staple of growing up in Philadelphia, because it sounds similar to Bill’s. The sound is jolly, but it’s a reminder that their friend isn’t here to share in this small joy with them. A pang of hurt zips through her heart like a lightning strike.

To distract herself from the pain that threatens to well up and spill over again, Zenie says, “Well, now that you know my secrets, I’m expecting you to do a better job at keeping them than Bill.”

Babe only smiles. “I’ll keep yours if you keep mine.”

She wouldn’t dream of telling anyone her friend’s secret. Still, after the day that they’ve had, she can’t help but return the smile, even if only for a moment. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #shifty powers #shifty powers x ofc #shifty powers x original female character #hbo war fanfic #hbo war #baberoe #oc zenie mcglamery #my writing

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just-jordie-things · 3 years

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The Crown - Steve Harrington

word count: 4462 warnings: dedicated to @high-functioning-fangirl02 <3

You’d give your life to protect these kids.

These kids you’ve known since you started babysitting them in the sixth grade. Back when Mrs Henderson hired you to watch Dustin. Which essentially meant that you’d watch all of them. But that was alright, over the past seven years of being their designated babysitter, you’d grown to love them all.

Mike Wheeler, the snarky little love-struck shit that you spent grieving with since losing Eleven. Lucas Sinclair, the sweet boy with the occasional attitude whom you helped construct his Ghostbusters costume. Will Byers, the full time sweetheart that made you cookies for Valentine’s Day after hearing you complain about being dateless. And of course Dustin, cute little button nosed Dusty with a trash mouthing tendency, whom looked up to you like a role model.

Hell, you were their role model. Driving them to and from school, covering for them on late nights so they could finish their D&D tournaments. Fiercely protecting them a year ago when Hawkins was Demogorgon infested. Standing up for them when you’d see some upperclassmen picking on them.

Those who dared glance the wrong way towards The Party in your presence, were rumored to run home crying with a bleeding nose and terrified shriek. You never put down the rumors… because maybe it had happened once or twice…

Over time The Party was no longer just a band of middle schoolers. It had opened up to their babysitter, being you, a senior girl who had not many other friends. Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, which the boys always claimed was strictly because of family relations. Not because Dustin was still harbouring a crush for Mike’s older sister. The town Sheriff, Jim Hopper, who’d proved himself not to be an asshole, and turned out an alright guy. Joyce Byers, whom you loved like a mother and whom treated you like her own daughter. You’d frequently been titled ‘the daughter she wished to have had’ which always raised a snarky response from her sons. Maxine (just Max. Never Maxine) Hargrove, a high spirited and not your typical girl that you grew fond of easily. Especially since she was nothing like her big brother.

And then there was Steve Harrington. Who… really just was at the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up getting roped into the mess that Hawkins Lab had created. King Steve, as you’d known him before you’d officially met last year by fluke accident, was always the popular boy that had a pretty girl hanging off his arm. You weren’t sure why that changed so quickly, why he didn’t put himself out there as much as he used to, didn’t party hard anymore, wasn’t bragging about the new girl he was with that week like he was known for. Maybe that day, when he walked into the Wheeler’s house right as you Nancy and Jonathan were awaiting the Demogorgon’s arrival, maybe he changed then.

Or maybe it was after he’d been sucked into… whatever this all was… and he changed to keep the secret. Or maybe it was after Nancy had broken up with him, around the same time he started growing closer to Dustin.

But right now as you watched him directing the kids, you were more aware that he wasn’t King Steve anymore, that you had been before. Sure, you’d realized somewhere along the way he was different. But it wasn’t until now that you noticed it completely as it was.

“No listen you little shits, no one, is going anywhere” Steve ordered, holding a wash rag in his hand and pointing it between each of the boys, and girl, that stood in front of him.

“Friggin’ pointless just staying here” Dustin grumbled, walking out of the room whilst still muttering. Mike groaned loudly, dramatically, and left to the living room with Max and Lucas. You knew that he was still plotting you get out there tonight. Consequences and dangers be damned.

You looked to Steve with a sigh, a lazy smile on your lips as you walked past him to go after Dustin. He watched you go, letting out a breath as well as he put his hands on his hips and standing alone in the hall with his thoughts.

He’d give his life to protect these kids.

“Dusty?” You called gently as you walked into the kitchen, seeing Dustin sitting on the floor against the dishwasher. Your brows furrowed as you sat across from him by the cabinets. “You alright kiddo?”

“Would I be sitting in here brooding if I was?” He quipped, though you knew he meant well.

“Sweetheart you’re too adorable to be a brooder” You laughed softly, pulling your knees up slightly. “A pouter maybe, but not a brooder”

“Thanks y/n” He responded dryly. You rolled your eyes in response to his sarcasm.

“Come on kid, open up a little. It’s me” Your words were soft, which did prompt Dustin to consider explaining to you his thoughts. “Please? If we make it out of this alive I’ll take you to the arcade. I’ve got a big jar full of quarters I’ve saved up-”

“Okay okay I’ll take the bribe” Dustin caved with a laugh that made your mood lighten. “Look it’s gonna sound lame and cheesy but… everyone else is helping. Jonathan and Nance and Mrs Byers and Hopper and Elle, but what am I doing?”

“You’re staying safe” Your answer came out instantly, but it didn’t seem to be the one the boy was looking for.

“No I’m not, I’m sitting on the sidelines, watching everyone else go be heroes and getting hurt. I’m not doing a damn thing!”

“Hey” You hummed softly, and scooted over closer to put your head on his shoulder. “You’re a hero Dustin. Don’t tell yourself any differently. All of you are, Mike too, and Lucas, and Max, and-”

“Steve?” Dustin offered, and you nodded, looking at him confusedly by the strange tone of voice he used.

“Of course, why’re you looking at me like that?”

“No reason” Dustin shrugged nonchalantly, brushing off the uncomfortable air between you both.

“Alright well, you should believe me” You continued. “Even if you don’t think so, you’re all my heroes, got it Henderson?” The boy smiled and nodded, prompting you to push the cap of his hat down playfully before he could get up and leave the room.

“Mike’s probably still planning his attack” He told you, but you shrugged and waved a hand.

“Let him plot and brood” You said, and Dustin’s mouth fell open.

“How come Mike can brood but I can’t?” You rolled your eyes, still waving your hand for him to get out of here.

“Just go plot with him, I know you’re itching to” You said, and he grinned wide at you, glad you were letting him go plan their escape and attack.

“Thanks y/n!” He called, already racing out of the room. “You’re the best!” You laughed, shaking your head as you stood back up and dusted off the pants of your overalls. Steve came in a few moments later, watching you almost suspiciously.

“What?” You questioned, and he shrugged, shaking his head.

“Nothing. Just wondering why you’re permitting them to conspire against us” He said.

“They’re not conspiring, they’re just discussing. No harm in that”

“Um, every harm in that. As in all of us, being harmed, because of that” He said, but you didn’t really seem to care what he thought about it.

“They’re fine, we’re all fine, don’t freak out so much mom” You said, walking out towards the kids and seeing them all circled up and discussing their big plan.

“I’m not a mom” Steve argued, and you chuckled, turning to see him, his dish rag on his shoulder, hands on hips. It only made you laugh more.

“Mhm, alright. Well then what would you call yourself?” You replied sarcastically, nodding towards his own stance, and making Steve second guess himself.

“This- you-! Alright whatever just stay away from the windows and go be safe somewhere” He muttered, walking into the living room where the kids were. You rolled your eyes again, but couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

Perhaps, you thought, King Steve was the king of something else now.

You watched as he was waving his rag at the kids again, yelling at them for plotting behind his back, and reminding them that no one was going anywhere. But even as Dustin pouted, Steve was rubbing his hand over the thirteen year old’s head. Almost soothingly, like he felt bad for ending their little meeting.

“What a mom” You mumbled, and headed back into the kitchen for something to eat.

You used to resent Steve, back when he was the king of school and didn’t care about anything more than he cared about his popularity and his hair. Back when he didn’t give a shit about pretty much anything. And looking at him now and seeing him watch over these kids, you could physically feel your heart swelling. If that isn’t character development, you weren’t sure what was.

You weren’t sure why it made you feel so bubbly either.

“Listen runts, we’re staying here, we’re staying safe, and we’re not dying!” Steve said, for what felt like the fifth time. But Mike kept arguing back at him.

“Everyone else is out there!”

“Everyone else knows how to fight all that shit!” Steve retorted. “We are staying, here” He repeated slowly, waving his rag between each word. “You got that?”

“You’re just saying that cause y/n’s here. If she wasn’t here, we’d all be getting in your car and going!” Lucas spoke up. Your brows furrowed at that.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, ignoring your search for food and now strutting into the room where everyone else was. “Am I dragging you down?” You asked, almost sarcastic, but wondering what he’d actually meant by his announcement. Were you dragging them down?

“No, Steve would just protect your ass over our asses” Max shrugged, and the others nodded.

“What the hell? Everyone here is protecting their own asses, I’m not getting killed for a bunch of kids!” Steve said, making flustered and jerky movements. You brushed off their newly sprung argument over where Steve’s bat is swinging and who it’s swinging for.

Apparently, The Party was certain that he’d die for you, rather die for them. But you didn’t care much about what they thought. They’d always thought that you and Steve were meant to be some power couple, but you supposed it was just cause you were the same age and the kids only ever saw you two together. There was no real evidence (as far as they showed) towards the ‘chemistry’ you and Steve supposedly had.

You wandered to the window, curiously looking out it with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Will you just shut up?” Mike’s yelling made you jump a little, and you turned to see your friends all still arguing with each other. You smiled slightly, meeting Steve’s eyes as he gave you a bored look. You just laughed a little bit back at him. Steve’s expression softened into a small smile. Your face flushed with heat, and you nervously turned away from him to look back out the window again.

A light blinded you almost instantly, making you squint your eyes and put a hand over them to try and clear your vision.

“What the hell?” You muttered, leaning closer to the glass to see what was going on. Headlights, there was a car here. Someone was here. “Steve?” You called, not turning away from the window. He came over right away, looking outside to see a familiar Camaro parked in the driveway.

“Shit” He grumbled, walking towards the front door.

“What- where are you going? Who is it?” You asked, following quickly after him, but Steve quickly turned to make you stay back.

“Just stay in here-”

“Sinclair!” A voice hollered from outside, and you jumped, eyes widening as you recognized it. “I know you’re in there!”

“Billy?” You whispered to Steve, who nodded. You stepped backwards, eyes never leaving Steve’s. “What’s he doing here?” Your voice was quiet.

Billy Hargrove, was the most vile, horrible person you’d ever met. And his wicked ways of bending people to his will, shook you intensely to your core. It was no secret to the others that Billy not only terrified you, but would seductively torture you every day. Sure, you’d been picked on before, but this was different. Every day he’d come to you, hoping to get something out of you, just to mess with you.

“Come on babe, a little kiss, just a little one, we can discuss the rest later”

“You don’t want to get a ride home with me and have some fun?”

“When’re you finally gonna give this up and just put out?”

You shuddered slightly, practically feeling his hot breath against your skin just thinking about the things he’s said to you. Stopping you in the hallways, finding you at your locker, approaching you while you waited at Steve’s car for a ride home.

“I know you’re in there you little pig! Come out here or I’ll have to go in!” His voice was dangerous, threatening. And you felt a legitimate fear for your life, and the kids’.

“It’s fine, you’re fine, I promise” Steve said quietly, out of earshot of the others. “All of you stay here, stay away from the windows” He ordered, giving you one last look before you turned and went to The Party. They needed you right now, all huddled around Lucas and Max to make sure if Billy were to look inside, he wouldn’t see them.

“Come on guys” You said softly, ushering them as far away from the window as you could. Steve, on the other hand, opened the door and stepped outside.

Instead of hiding in a room, completely out of sight of the maniac, you all ducked under the windowsill to see what was happening.

“Am I dreaming or is that really you Harrington?” You felt your entire body quivering upon hearing Billy’s voice. Dustin, who was crouched next to you, turned and gave you a worried look, but your eyes were dead set on the outside.

“Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants” Steve responded, walking out towards him as he pulled off his leather jacket.

“What’re you doing here amigo?” Billy asked, the cigarette hanging off his lips moving as he spoke.

“I could ask you the same thing” Steve responded, void of emotion. “Amigo”

“Lookin’ for my step sister. Little birdie told me she was here”

“Huh, that’s weird I don’t know her” Steve lied easily, and convincingly. You prayed to God that Billy believed him.

“Small? Redhead?” Billy replied disbelievingly. “Bit of a bitch?”

“Ashole” Max muttered to herself inside.

“Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry buddy” Steve replied, still not sounding like he cared even an inkling. Billy nodded, taking out his cigarette.

“You know… I don’t how this, this whole situation Harrington is um.., it’s giving me the heebie jeebies” Billy said, looking at Steve a little more threateningly.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you” Billy pointed accusatory hands towards Steve, giving him a disgusted look. “In a strangers house” He continued. “And you lie to me about it” Steve chuckled bitterly, shaking his head and looking away for a moment.

“Yeah, maybe you were dropped too much as a child or what” Steve said snarkily. But Billy just grinned his twisted grin and licked his tongue over the front of his teeth. “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said”

You felt a chill go down your spine as Steve’s protectiveness took over his tone. Dustin beside you mumbling a quiet, “Holy shit”

“She’s not here” Steve said carefully. Billy nodded, looking pointedly towards the window where you and The Party were all huddled and looking out of.

“Then who’s that?” He asked, pointing his cigarette towards his sister.

“Down!” You hissed, and the five of you dropped to the floor so fast you all groaned from the impact of the floor.

“Shit!” Dustin cursed. “Did he see us?”

“Oh shit” Steve grumbled. “Okay listen-” Billy pushed him to the ground before he could explain anything. The boy kicked him, before storming up into the house.

“Well well well” Billy smirked, seeing you and The Party standing there together, you in front of all of them. “y/n l/n, what a lovely little surprise” You grimaced, but he didn’t seem to care. “And Lucas Sinclair, not so much a surprise at all” You moved over more in front of Lucas, who’s hands grabbed onto your arm out of fear. “I thought I told you to stay away from him Max”

“Billy, go away” Max retorted, but her voice wavered.

“You disobeyed me” Billy leaned over his step sister tauntingly. “And you know what happens when you disobey me” He added in a hushed, volatile voice.

“Billy-”

“I break things” He uttered, before pushing you aside, crashing your body into the wall. Before slamming Lucas up against the cupboards.

“Billy stop!” Max and the others began to yell, Dustin rushing over to help you up, but you were already standing up on your own.

“Get off of me!” Lucas cried.

“Since Maxine won’t listen to me, maybe you will” Billy muttered. “You stay away from her. Stay-! Away from her” He yelled awkwardly. “Do you hear me?”

“I said get off me!” Lucas screamed again, followed by a knee between Billy’s legs. You gasped, feeling a moment of pride as Billy stumbled back and released him.

“You are so dead Sinclair!” Billy hollered. “You’re dead-”

“No” Steve grabbed Billy by the shoulder, spinning him around roughly. “You are” And with that he swung his fist and planted it hard enough against Billy’s jaw to make him topple over.

“Steve!” You yelped out of surprise. He looked at you for a moment, nodding in reassurance as he shook out his hand. It’d been a while since he’d hit anybody. Billy stood back up, laughing menacingly. “You’re a fucking psycho!” You screeched before you could stop yourself.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all huh!?” He yelled at Steve. “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about” He stepped closer to Steve, glaring at him.

“Get out” Steve muttered, pushing Billy’s chest lightly to move him away from him. Billy stepped back and stood there for a moment. And after a few seconds passed you were certain that he was going to stay back.

Until he swung swiftly at Steve, but missed as Steve ducked just in time. You gasped, clapping your hands over your mouth in terror. Steve stood back up and swung his fist again, hitting Billy and making him stumble again.

“Yes! Get him Steve!” Dustin cheered, and the others began to as well. You couldn’t find yourself to say anything, just wince every time a punch was made. Steve hit him two more times, and Billy ran into the kitchen sink. Leaning back and wincing in pain.

“Kill him! Kill him!” Mike was yelling. But Billy grabbed a plate of the counter, smashing it over Steve’s head, and making him fall to the ground.

“Steve!” You screamed now, taking long strides to get over to him, only to be pushed away by Billy. Who hit Steve as soon as he stood up again. He grabbed Steve by the shoulders, staring him down.

“No one. Tells me what to do” He muttered angrily, and threw his head forward hard into Steve’s knocking him down again.

“Fucking hell” You mumbled, tears beginning to prick your eyes in fear that Billy was actually going to kill Steve. The mullet wearing psycho leapt onto Steve, pinning him down and swinging punch after punch against his face.

“Stop it!” Mike yelled at the top of his lungs, but it did nothing to end Billy’s attack.

“Steve!” Dustin hollered.

You stood frozen, every scene in front of you soundless, and moving slowly. You could only feel your heart in your chest, sending you into an anxiety attack, you were sure. But it barely mattered to you in that moment. You turned away, and your eyes landed on something.

The syringe used on Will earlier.

Sleep… put him to sleep… your thoughts were broken as you reached for it, looking at it in your hands for a few seconds, before stepping forward and slamming the needle into Billy’s neck without a hesitation. Mike and Dustin gasped, standing back. Everyone’s eyes stuck on the syringe hanging out of BIlly’s neck now. A disgust filling them up at the sight.

“Shit y/n” Dustin mumbled, his hand covering his mouth to stop vomit from flowing.

Billy stood up, wobbling slightly as he turned to look at you. He pulled the needle out of his neck, vision beginning to fail. “The hell is this?” He asked, trying to step towards you threateningly, but he was wobbling so much you didn’t even move. No longer afraid of him.

“You’re fucking done Hargrove” You muttered, and before thinking twice to second guess yourself, punching him across the jaw, and sending him back on his ass. Billy groaned, staying down where he’d fallen against the couch.

“Shit what did you do” He mumbled, growing dizzy from the mix of drug and pain.

A few moments later he completely passed out.

“Fuck” You hissed in pain, putting your bruising knuckles against your mouth. You didn’t think punching someone would hurt so damn much.

“y/n holy shit”

“Are you okay?”

“That was badass!”

The Party was fussing and cheering for you, but you didn’t respond, kneeling down by Steve next and counting up all the cuts and bruises he was beginning to sport. He was unconscious, that was for sure. But he’d be in for a world of hurt when he woke up.

“Come on, help me get him back to Jon’s bed” You called to the kids.

It was difficult moving him, but after ten minutes you’d managed to get him into Jonathan’s room to lie on the bed there. You were sat next to him, a cold wet rag in your hand, and the open first aid kit on the ground. It took you awhile to clean off all the blood and apply bandages where you thought they were necessary. There was a frozen bag of peas you’d put over one of his eyes to stop the swelling, but so far it still looked pretty bad.

The Party had sat with you for what felt like a long time before you told them to go back to the living room and wait for the others to return home. Dustin put up a small fight about it, but eventually gave in and listened to your order. And now it was just you kneeling on the ground by Steve, watching over him carefully. Making sure he was breathing okay, and that nothing would begin to bleed again.

“Well King Steve, you got quite the ass kicking” You mumbled, just to yourself. Your fingers placed a few stray hairs on his forehead back into place. “But your crown is still there” You smiled to yourself, fingertips gently brushing his hair.

“y/n?” Your eyes looked back at him as he mumbled, almost incoherently. “What happened?” The poor boy’s eyes weren’t even open.

“You put up a really good fight” You told him softly. He winced, the pain probably beginning to settle in.

“Did I win?” He groaned, eyes clenching shut momentarily. You bit down on your lip and shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“You put up a really good fight” You repeated yourself, playing with his hair again. Steve sighed, knowing the answer.

“Is he gone?” He asked, eyes finally beginning to flutter open.

“Yeah… yeah he won’t be back any time soon, I’m sure” You answered. Steve looked up at you, smiling down gently at him. He smiled back instantly, and moved his arm to push your hair back, but even at it’s slight movement you winced in pain. “You’re in pretty bad shape” You told him quietly. “But you’ll heal up alright”

“Are you okay?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine” You shrugged slightly. “We’re all really worried about you. Dustin thought you were dead” Steve chuckled painfully, shaking his head a little bit.

“Are they alright? Max and Lucas?”

“Yeah, we’re all good Steve” You hummed with a slight nod. You leaned forward, a little closer to him to check on the eye swelled under the bag of peas. You frowned, seeing the black and blue bruise that only seemed to be spreading.

“I’m alright, don’t fuss so much” Steve said, putting his hand over the bag and pushing it back against his face. Your eyes met his for a moment.

“You’re pretty bruised up Harrington” You sighed, taking the wet rag in your hand and dabbing it gently on his bruised cheek. “There’s not an inch of your face spared”

“It’ll be fine, I’ll heal up”

“Years from now, maybe” You replied sarcastically, and he smiled at you while you carefully pressed the cold cloth to his face.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He murmured, and you looked at him for the briefest of seconds before going back to work. Now is not the time to talk about feelings, you thought to yourself.

“Yeah? Go play hero some more and you’ll never see anything again” You told him, and he shrugged slightly, not having a response to that.

“I just wanted to remind you. In case you haven’t been told in a while” He said. You bit on the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too much. You looked down at him, your eyes softening slightly.

You leaned over closer to him, pausing for a moment before pressing your lips lightly against his. It was a chaste kiss, only lasting a few seconds as you didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already was. When you pulled back, you smiled nervously at him, and he only smiled back at you.

“You’re lucky you didn’t die Harrington” You said, and got right back to work on pressing the rag to his wounds.

“That I am” He replied cheekily.

You giggled softly, smiling down at him and wondering just when he’d changed so much.

You knew he’d give his life for these kids too, just like you would.

love me some babysitter steve

xoxo ~ jordie

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things scenario #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington imagine

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loveanoutcast · 3 years

Note

ok but I read games and I am ADDICTED and I just thought I could maybe request something like-

Eren meeting the reader through a simple comment and a timeskip to them being v close until they eventually end up in a fight because reader was ranting to eren about how perfect their crush (who is actually eren) is and him just exploding and them getting into a fight until the reader eventually goes "that person is you, dumbass!" Or smth like that and from there it all just turns into a lot of kisses and smut👀

only if you're comfy/in the mood of writing smth like this tho! just had this random thought last night and thought I'd request a little erenxfembodiedreader

Anyway have a nice day, night, afternoon, morning, you're amazing :D

Oh my gosh, this is my first request ever and I am so incredibly excited to write this and I really hope I did good in writing something you would want. Thank you so much for submitting this request, please feel free to send more! I love writing fanfics of any aot character and will do my absolute best to embody them in these. Sorry for the long wait, when I say the last chapter had me all the way FUCK3D up. EreMika is canon and I haven't been able to stop saying "He loved her, oh my god he loved her" in that "and they were roommates" vine way because that's my coping mechanism and it's cheaper than therapy. Anyway, I give you-

"Assumptions."

Pairing: Eren Yeager x Fem!reader

TW: nsfw, smut, angst, jealously, swearing, yelling, a bit of fluff, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink, a bit of voyeurism, a bit of sexism, eren being denser than a rock, Levi having health issues because he's old

Other: aot world if the mess of season four never happened and eren didn't fall to sad bitch hours, reader is a regular girl with family issues, all characters are over 18, Erwin never died and Floch never went insane

It wasn't that Eren hated going into town, but he wasn't exactly used to going to town alone. He always had Mikasa and Armin flanking either side of him but since the discovery of the world outside the walls and the decreased threat of titans, scouts were needed more than ever in the recovery of the lost districts. Mikasa was the second strongest soldier alive and Armin was expected to take after Erwin. Eren was useful when it came to being the one who possessed the attack and founder titan, but lately there was no big threats that required his titan abilities.

That didn't stop Hange from poking him, nor did it stop Captain Levi from keeping him busy with even the most minimalist of tasks. Today was no different and when the options were given to him and Jean, who was still asleep in his bunker, on shoveling horse shit or going into town to stock up on supplies and check to ensure all market suppliers weren't being capitalist pigs to the local vendors, Eren all but hauled ass through the door, hand swiping the grocery list off the table and yelling, "Good luck Jean-boy!"

Everything seemed to be going just fine, none of the local vendors had any troubles and most seemed happier with the drastic improvements of the living situations for Eldians. The fear of being eaten any day now or losing a loved one to war had seemed to be the driving force that had led to problems before. Some people recognized Eren, but no one seemed to want to approach him. He had had encounters with people who thought of him as a god, but he usually ignored them or kept a level-headed composure. Despite knowing that he had a power no one else had, outside of being a titan-shifter, Eren didn't really know what he had to offer. Armin was smart, Mikasa was strong, and he couldn't exactly claim titan-shifter seeing that Armin was also the colossal and Ymir had been the jaw.

He let out a sigh, kicking a rock in his path and silently yearning for something beyond his knowledge. Despite knowing that he was never really alone, he felt lonely a lot of the time. He had never given much thought to settling down, with the clock running out on him he often thought what was even the point? He wasn't sure if he wanted to keep being a soldier or if he wanted to go back home one day, he didn't really try to dwell on the future, content with being in the present and having Mikasa always on the verge of tears when she was reminded that he would one day die, didn't really give him room to think of much else.

You weren't oblivious to the tales and rumors that went around the town about the scouts and their secret weapon in the form of a shapeshifting man and how him and his comrades were able to plug the hole in the wall of a district your family had come from long ago. Your father had long since escaped the walls of Maria before it fell, he made an honest living being a construction man, and your mother was a nurse who happened to catch his eye when he had a roofing accident. They built a life for themselves within Wall Rose. You weren't the richest family, nor did you have a name that was well known. Nonetheless, you were all hard working. Your brothers worked for the respect they got, one being a weapon maker and the other being a bar keeper was enough for the part of town you were in. Even their wives did well for themselves in being a seamstress and bar waitress. As the youngest, you were loved and cared for. You weren't the most beautiful girl in town, but you turned heads nonetheless, well until one of your brothers decided to glare or promptly hit whoever doted on you too long for their liking.

The people who knew you, thought you were trouble. Mostly the elders spewed of you and your ways of thinking being a disgrace to everything Eldians stood for and bringing only shame to your gender, you were a woman ahead of her time and they couldn't stand it. Like your mother you had entered the medical field, but even when you were small you claimed you would be a doctor one day. You shadowed and worked under the supervision of the town's doctors. Many amused at your antics, some who didn't care about you being a girl and just grateful to leave such responsibility on someone who was genuine in the intent, and others not caring one way or another and not willing to hear your screeching pleads to observe what they did. Your mom had spoken with you more than once about settling with being a doctor's aide, today being no different and you let out a sigh as you looked to your mother's pained expression.

"I just don't understand why you insist on making your life so difficult? It was bad enough when you proudly exclaimed your goals in front of the entire church, but now this?"

You could only look away, looking towards the fields where you saw your third brother grooming the horses. You hadn't said anything bad, you were approached with a job offer that would give you the title and respect you had been desperately craving, and it would bring greater honor to your family...or so you thought before your mother reacted the opposite in which you hoped.

"I will not have any daughter of mine chasing dreams and fantasies off in some other place where no one can protect you. This is a suicide mission and I for one will not stand by and watch you march forward to your downfall."

Your father stood behind your mother, not really saying anything and not even looking at you. You felt especially bad for the commander and captain who stood on either side of you and were bearing witness to the absurd exchange between your family.

"Mrs. Y/L/N, you have to know that if Y/N were to accept this offer, she would never be in the front lines. We have bases located all throughout the walls and she would do what she did best and be our primary doctor." Commander Erwin spoke with such calm words, his demeanor kind and patient.

"So you expect me to let her run off with a bunch of men whose brains are broken from the wars they fought and not worry? She is not even married!"

You grit your teeth so hard upon hearing that, you were sick of the standards put forth on you since your birth. You were sick of the expectations you were in no hurry to reach and you were especially tired of the lack of faith your family had in you to be independent and strong. Your fists clenched and you felt a steady gaze on you.

"I'm not an expert or anything on parenting, nor will I act as if I am, but instead of yelling at her, why don't you try asking your daughter what she wants to do?" You didn't silence the gasp you released, looking at Captain Levi in confusion and admiration.

All eyes turned to you, your mother crossing her arms as if asking you to try and defy her. Erwin looked a bit expectedly and Levi looking indifferent to the entire conversation. It was your father who beat you to it before you could even open your mouth to answer.

"You have a choice, my daughter. If you choose to stay, you'll make your mother and brothers happy. You can continue to help people but you will never be acknowledged as a doctor...but you'll have your family. Or you can choose to leave and live your life to your own accord, but you will lose the respect of the town and your mother will never speak to you again. Are you willing to put yourself above your family?" You expected this from your father, always neutral and never judgmental, what he was saying was true after all. Were you willing to lose your family over your dreams? Would you be able to survive on your own with only the scouts to rely on?

Your head was hurting and your frustration only grew when your brothers decided to come home and after your mother wailing at them about your plans to leave, they were quick to overwhelm you with their own opinions. The commander and captain apologized but they had to leave and return to headquarters.

"Take your time on making your decision. We will come back in a few days for your answer." Commander Erwin told you, giving you a smile as he continued, "I know its a lot to ask you to choose us over your flesh and blood, but if you do. You have my promise that we will protect you, and we may never be able to fully replace your family in your heart, but the scouts will be a family on its own for you."

"Tch," Captain Levi shook his head, "Look brat, you will see and do things that you won't always like. People will die no matter how hard you try to save them, but call Erwin and Hange delusional--they see something in you. Don't walk into this half-assed, if you choose to be our doctor and you choose to take on the title and everything it carries with it, you have to dedicate your heart."

You only nodded. Two days had passed as you walked through the market, the small basket in your hands carried apples and some citrus fruits. Your mother still wasn't talking to you and your brothers seemingly assumed you wouldn't be leaving, only your father knew how frantic your mind was, and one morning he admitted that he would be delighted to have at least one of his children carry the family name on a military standing. So you had his support.

You even spoke to the animal doctor you had been shadowing for the past few weeks, his eyebrows had rose in an impressed matter and he promptly asked when you would be leaving.

"I haven't made a decision, yet." You said.

"You would be an idiot not to take it." Was all he replied before asking you to give the cattle their medicine.

Idiot, huh? You wondered. You knew deep down he was right. Your mind continued to play in endless loops of thought before you heard a commotion to your right. Turning your head you saw a group of men, their huddling seemed a bit more frantic and it was not until one of them yelled that you noticed one man in particular on his knees.

"Help! Someone call a doctor!"

The man on the floor was bleeding rather profusely and you didn't have time to question what happened before you quickly made way.

"Sir, let me see."

"Hey! Woman don't touch him!"

"Make yourself useful and go get a doctor! What the hell do you think you're doing!"

"I am a doctor." You calmly said, inspecting the gash on his side and seeing the edge of what appeared to be a broken pipe sticking out from the building behind them. The drips if bloods glistening in the sun only confirmed what you thought.

"We were-" The injured man rasped out, "Just horsing around."

"It's okay." You reassured, grabbing a roll of gauze and stack of medical napkins you always kept in your basket. You apologized before applying pressure to the wound, and you heard the patter of rushing feet.

"A doctor is on his way! A real one!" One of the men sneered, and you did your best not to roll your eyes and focus on stopping the bleeding. You asked the man to lie on his back and he surprisingly complied, he didn't seem to care about you being a girl and only seemed thankful to not be alone and scared.

"Do you hear that? Move before you kill him!" The first man hollered, the hand on your shoulder causing you to sharply inhale.

"Excuse me for one moment." You told the man, and you were quick as you hand shot up to grip the disrespectful ass by his wrist and twist it in one fluid motion, you wasted no time in using the building wall as leverage, quickly running up and using his weight to stabilize yourself before you roundhouse kicked him so hard it sent both of you flying back. You landed on one foot, balancing yourself before going back to the patient.

You couldn't deny how satisfying it was to hear the impact, or the groan of pain coming from him. Your eyes met the others.

"If any of you touch me, I'll do exactly what I did to your buddy there, but ten times worse. Now shut the hell up and let me save this man."

Eyes widely stared at you as you resumed caring for the injured, a few minutes passed by the time the doctor got there.

"Oh!" His eyebrows rose, "Hello Y/N, didn't expect to see you here. If I would have known, I wouldn't have left the hospital on its own."

"Hi Dr. Goodwin," You looked up, two fingers on the injured man's wrist and the other held up four fingers from your counting. You blushed slightly from his confidence in you and you noticed the men who bullied you all sport faces of confusion.

"His pulse is stable. I wrapped the wound tightly, but he needs stitches."

"Thank you, miss." The injured man grabbed your hand and you smiled in return.

"Don't mention it."

"Actually, it's Dr. Y/L/N." Dr. Goodwin said, seeing your eyes widen and the smile he gave only made your heart swell that much more.

The doctor nodded, thanking you before asking his helpers to load him to the small gurney they brought. He could only thank you briefly before you waved them off. The other guys had stayed back, eyes wide in disbelief that the doctor not only recognized you, but acknowledged your work.

"Are you a nurse or something?"

"Are you morons deaf? Did you not hear Dr. Goodwin? I'm a doctor too."

The leader seemed to recover from the kick you gave him earlier as his lip curled in an ugly matter, "What kind of sick joke is that? No such thing as a woman doctor."

"Obviously there is if I'm standing right in front of you. Or did my kick knock a few more scews loose?"

Eren was walking buy, noticing the commotion from afar and as a soldier, his instincts to provide help in dire situations kicked in. He elbowed his way to the front. Seeing you standing defiantly in front of five tall muscular men. He stepped forward as the main leader got in your face, but when you shifted your foot, he seemed to coil back. Eren noticed a giant welt on one side of his face and wondered how the hell he got such an ugly bruise. It didn't stop their onslaught.

"Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you could do whatever the fuck you want?"

"Because in this world, I'm free to do whatever the fuck I please." Eren watched as your eyes narrowed in further defiance, the smile on your face sickeningly sweet and all he could think about was how he had never seen such a woman.

You hadn't even noticed the audience that gathered, you side stepped the group of men, going as far as waving a goodbye with a breathy giggle, you picked up your basket. You had a small hop to your step and despite not caring to even spare a glance to the onlookers, your eyes met a pair of pretty green ones. The prominent bone structure made you think, "Wow."

However, the tall muscular body you did a once over on had you follow that thought with, "Oh damn."

Eren seemed dumbfounded, your obviousness in checking him out made him flush. He had never felt self-conscious over his body. He knew even before he hit puberty that he would do well to grow muscles and abs, the necessary type of figure to have if one were to be a soldier of the scouts. He knew it was also something some females found attractive in the opposite sex but it's not like he ever had time to date much less dwell on what girls liked. Seeing the way you looked at him though, he couldn't deny that he silently hoped for your approval.

When you finally met his eyes once more, you had him floored when he saw you drop a wink at him.

The crowd murmuring as they watched you go made his own eyebrows furrow in confusion. He stepped to one of the members and demanded an explanation.

"Honestly, the little lady was crazy! She came in here claiming to be a doctor and helped patch up a guy who got cut by the pipe over there. Instead of waiting for a real doctor, she made a whole fuss."

"Where's the guy?"

"Dr. Goodwin picked him up. That doctor is mad too, he also said she was a doctor, but that's ridiculous. No woman can be a doctor. That's so many levels of wrong."

Eren felt the urge to punch the man in the mouth, but one glance at the ugly bruise his friend sported reminded him,

"What happened to your face?"

The leader grumbled a bunch of profanities, "That little bitch. I tried to get her off before she messed the guy up anymore and she kicked me."

"In your face?" Eren sounded impressed, and he was when he received a nod of confirmation.

He looked to the direction which you disappeared in and said fine words to the group, "Whether you men like it or not. The world is changing, everyone is free to be who they want. If women can join the military no problem, they can be doctors too."

He saluted before rushing off, not hearing the mutters of annoyance from the men. In all honestly, Eren had no clue on what he was doing.

You were scrubbing off the blood from under your fingernails near a fountain when you hear the shuffle of feet from behind you. You silently hoped it wasn't any of those morons asking for more trouble, but you were pleasantly surprised when your eyes met a pair of green ones from before.

"I'm Eren." You smiled at him, nodding and your smile turned quirked when he stuttered in, "Yeager. Eren Yeager."

Hmm, you had thought, His name suits him. You studied his demeanor, not missing the gear strapped to either sides of his hips or the green hood covering his shoulders. You knew immediately that he was a scout and you wondered if he knew Captain Levi. Before you got the courage to ask him, he beat you to it.

"What did you mean by what you said earlier? Do you really think that? That we're all free to do anything we want here?"

You smiled as you nodded, walking towards a vendors stand and Eren fell into step beside you, you felt nervous around him, but also safe with his company. He watched you as you picked up another apple to inspect.

"We have laws and rules though...so we're not technically all the way free?"

"I'm free to be me, just as you are free to be you...Eren...Yeager."

It was the way the sun hit your face in that moment, highlighting your strong cheekbones and giving a special glint in your eyes that made Eren want to hear your thoughts more. He spent the rest of the day asking you questions, never satisfied with the small responses you gave him and he even walked you home. The mean glare from your mother confused him beyond belief and it was your father's words that made you gasp in surprise that night.

"He's the titan shifter, the one who helped plug up wall Rose."

Your face had turned red in embarrassment, you were talking so casually to a literal titan and you even flirted with him. He even held your basket the entire trip to your house and you didn't even consider how informal you acted with your skirt. You had hitched one of them up your thigh to get better footing and hadn't missed the way Eren blushed at seeing so much skin. You knew the girls in the scouts wore pants, but even then they kept covered.

You were certain Eren wanted nothing else to do with a girl who held little to no morals, but you were caught by pleasant surprise when you saw him with Erwin and Levi the next day in town.

His eyes had immediately found yours and you didn't miss the blush on his cheeks as he gave you a small wave. You couldn't but laugh when Captain Levi suddenly kicked him.

"Who's got you turning red brat?"

"Uh-it's nothing, captain."

He didn't look convinced as you gathered the courage to approach. Erwin acknowledged your presence which Eren was grateful for, but his eyebrows still came down in confusion on how the commander knew your name.

"Y/N!" Erwin gave a polite smile which you returned, "So great to see you. We were actually just about to stop by your house."

"Really? What a coincidence, I was hoping to stop by headquarters today as well." Your smile was bright, and by the way the air around you seemed cheerful, Erwin returned your energy.

"Bearing good news I hope?" He still hesitantly asked.

You nodded as you laughed, "I would love to accept the offer if it still stands."

"Of course it does," Captain Levi scoffed, his arms were folded across his chest. You noted for the first time the soft grey color of his eyes and despite the deep scowl he was currently showing, he had chubby cheeks that made you want to squish, "We wouldn't be coming all this way for nothing."

"I thought we were coming to collect a new scout, Captain Levi." Eren asked, you felt yourself blush in realization that he had no clue it was actually you they were referring to.

"We are," Levi grabbed you by your arm and yanked you towards him as he pointed at you while looking at Eren like he was an idiot, "Meet the scout's new doctor. Dr. Y/L/N meet Eren-"

"Yeager." You finished, smiling towards Eren, "We've met."

Erwin and Levi exchanged looks as they watched you and Eren smiled at each other like a pair of idiots, the realization dawning over them and Erwin couldn't fight the smirk that crossed his face. Small world, he thought.

Six months had passed since the first fateful encounter you had with Eren. You had long since moved out of your home and besides the occasional secret letter from your father, you hadn't heard nor seen the rest of your family since your decision to become a doctor for the scouts.

It was a transition to go through as you lost one family and gained a new one, but everyone was so accepting and welcoming. The girls welcomed you with open arms, most notably was Sasha whose habit of eating everything and anything brought her to the infirmary on more than one occasion, Connie usually followed right behind her with a minor injury resulting from his carelessness. You had met Floch when he brought Jean in from a sparring session gone wrong and he immediately took a liking to you. Your level-headedness was like a breath of fresh air to him as he was constantly sorrounded by people he thought were idiots. Jean liked your confidence (The fact that you were easy on the eyes, didn't hurt either), Mikasa respected the way you didn't hesitate to put people in their place, and Armin admired that despite your obvious toughness, you were a kind and patient doctor who never turned anyone away. You were diligent and hard-working, yet your smile was always able to uplift any sour mood and you always put your best foot forward. The one time he had puked all over your hospital floor from eating too much undercooked meat was embarrassing for him, he thought for sure you were going to be angry and call him an idiot. Instead, you took his temperature, put a cold cloth on his head (despite his titan status guaranteeing a speedy recovery), and started a healthier diet plan for him. Armin was scheduled a weekly checkup with you, partly to ensure he was listening and partly for you to study him a bit more. Your research on the titan's ability to regenerate and recover from even the worst injuries was fascinating for you, you hoped to isolate the genes and figure out a way to maybe trigger it in regular Eldians without setting off the titan ability, the fact that Eren made it a habit to accompany Armin didn't hurt either.

Eren had grown attached to you, whenever he wasn't busy or in need of a place to hide from Captain Levi's wrath or Hange's insistence to poke and prod him, he would be hanging out around you or in your office. At one point you had to hide him under your desk when Commander Erwin stopped by to hold a meeting with you about providing first aid training to the scouts for excursions. You were always welcomed to accompany them outside the walls, but your work was enough to make you stay. You recalled the way Eren was pressed against your legs, the feel of his hands steadying himself on your calves and when your skirt had shifted up when you reached for one of the records, you felt Eren brush his fingertips along the muscle. You had stammered the rest of the meeting through and smacked him afterwards for putting you in such a compromising position. You were blushing furiously at the way he gave such a boyish grin and even that night while he walked you to your small cottage, he had a satisfied smile in place.

You always knew you liked Eren, you were also hopeful that the feeling was mutual. The both of you had grown close over the course of your stay, as the head doctor you were given your own living quarters, not too far from headquarters but not so close to the city that you would be given a hard time. Your cottage was fair in size and with the amount of income you were receiving, you were quick to furnish and decorate it to your liking. Eren had even helped by adding his own touches to the interior. The times you would go to the city with him was always met with many curious stares. Your age and gender made many turn heads when you walked in, the fact that you were the youngest and by far prettiest doctor the scouts had ever had made people naturally gravitate to you. Your ability to make friends quickly also made it that almost every weekend you were entertaining guests at your house. Sometimes it would be dinner with Sasha, Niccolo, and Connie. Other times you would be knitting and embroidering with Mikasa and Armin, there was even game nights with everyone until Jean and Eren became too competitive with one another. Other times when the higher ups had meetings (All of which you had to attend since you technically held an officer position within the military branch) you would offer your house where you all shared cups of tea and your famous baked goods. You had even seen Captain Levi grab seconds on your sugar cookies.

It was the times when Eren would swing by alone that caused your heart to flutter, he would walk you home almost every night now. At first he would find the poorest excuses to see you like needing a bandaid for his wrist from the biting (even though by the time you gave him the gauze it would be healed over completely) or try to "casually" be around the area when you would get out at three in the morning. Eventually your amusement turned to you asking him to walk you home every night under the guise that you were afraid of being targeted or hurt, even though everyone had seen you body-slam Reiner the one time he tried to hit on you when you were stitching up his eyebrow from an ugly gash. Nonetheless, Eren accepted. You would invite him in for tea every time and he would even bring you lunch on days he failed to see you in the cafeteria. It seemed like everyone under the sun knew about you and Eren's crushes on one another, so it was also a pain in the ass that neither of you had yet to make a move on one another. Even Erwin had assumed you two were together the one morning he stopped by your house on your day off to ask for your aid for a soldier who had broken their arm from a training exercise, his eyes had grown wide upon seeing you open the door in only your nightgown, you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you invited him in for breakfast.

Upon walking in, he immediately saw Eren exiting your bathroom in his casual jeans, his hair was wet and sticking up from the steam of the shower. Eren wasn't wearing a shirt and before Erwin could excuse himself completely you quickly explained how you hadn't wanted him to walk outside so late so he slept on your couch. You were washing his clothes and had left them out to dry and Erwin could only nod and stop himself from suggesting for Eren to bring spare clothes to yours, remembering that it wasn't his place to push or even encourage his team's doctor and titan-shifter to date even though by the way he saw you put jelly on Eren's toast while he made your cup of tea with three sugars was enough for him to almost just order the two of you to date. Instead, he gave a long rant to Levi, wondering aloud whether Eren was either oblivious to your affections or just an idiot, Levi only replied with, "Did you happen to bring any of the toast she made?"...he did and Levi later on answered, "He's just an idiot." while licking the excess jelly off his fingers.

It was another day at headquarters, the mid-summer day was hot and since the flow of traffic had been slow inside the infirmary, you found yourself mostly in the officer's lounge. You had opted to wear a long sleeve empire waist dress, the top had ruffles along your collar and the soft pink of the dress complimented your skin tone. It fell around mid-thigh and the black shoes you wore with them completed your overall look. Eren had stared at your bare legs for a while until he noted your haircut. You had only cut off the ends but your heart did a flip as you blushed from him noticing. You had been chatting with Hange about your research while Moblit spoke to Eren about the new set of routes to be taken during their next trip beyond the walls when Captain Levi walked in. Hange waved him over and he fell easily beside you.

"Hey." His arm brushing against yours and you hummed in response, leaning a bit towards him which didn't go unnoticed by Eren.

"Levi, did you take your medicine this morning?" About two weeks ago you had caught the captain asleep at his desk for the fourth time. You knew he overworked himself and refused to sleep in his bed no matter how many therapeutic pillows you got him, but while he was out like a light you decided to check his blood pressure, only to find it alarmingly high. You figured the amount of stress and cups of caffeinated tea were to blame. Levi kept in good shape, but considering his age and the fact that he never even considers laughing, you prescribed him medications to be take every morning and cut him off from his usual tea leaves. The former was easier to push as the calcium and magnesium capsules were easy to swallow, it was getting rid of all the tins in his desk that made him a bit unbearable to the new recruits.

He let out an annoyed grunt as he nodded. Your smile was soft as you put an encouraging hand on his arm and Eren was officially not listening to Moblit anymore.

"Thanks for sticking to your diet, Captain Levi. As a token of my appreciation, I got you these." You didn't let him reply, quick to act as always as you reached into the small basket you had brought and grabbed his hand to put the gray tin of loose leaves that you took out in his palm.

As usual, the captain was unfazed by your lack of appreciation for personal space. The past few weeks had done well to teach him how despite being yelled at, threatened, and even outright ignored at times, your cheeriness was impossible to diminish and you did whatever the heck you wanted even when it was at times impulsive.

"What is it?" He looked between you and the tin, the slight sneer on his upper lip making you release a giggle before you tapped the bow you tied on it.

"It's tea leaves." He raised a slim eyebrow which made you roll your eyes, "Decaffeinated tea."

"Let me guess, it tastes like shit." His eyes flickered to the purple bow, "Or it'll make me shit."

You laughed, you upper body leaning on his as you attempted to catch your breath. The joke wasn't that funny but the face he made was. You giggled as you shook your head and Hange watched in bemusement as you elaborated,

"It's the tea I always serve and judging by the three cups you had last time, I'm positive you'll like it."

Levi let out a nod, he hadn't even noticed that the tea you served had no caffeine but the heavy notes of honey in it probably explained its sweetness. He gave a quiet thank you before his scowl returned,

"So that's why I was on the crapper all night after the last meeting."

"With a potty mouth like that, it's not wonder you don't have a girlfriend." You deadpanned.

"I feel bad for the poor bastard who falls in love with you."

You let out a small tsk, smiling at him and hoping Eren heard as you said, "Well that depends if he admits he feels the same way."

Captain Levi quirked an eyebrow at you, his eyes knowing and you blushed under his stare. Your fingers fiddling behind your back and Eren hated the way Levi suddenly chuckled at you. His smile was a rarity and to have him giving it to you only meant one thing to Eren; the captain liked you.

"So there is someone you like? Who's the poor brat?"

When you were about to make another snide remark, Hange cut in and excused herself and Moblit.

"As fascinating as this is, there's a captured titan waiting my arrival and if I don't get to use this research Dr. Y/L/N just gave me before nightfall, I will lose my mind."

"I hadn't heard of us ever finding it to begin with." Levi sighed, taking a lock of your hair between his fingers and letting the curl bounce back before he excused himself to tag along with them.

"Someone's got to make sure four eyes doesn't get killed."

"That's why Moblit is going with her." You noted.

"And who do you think will make sure Moblit doesn't get killed?" He smiled once more, "Laters doc."

You waved goodbye to the three, the door clicking behind them and you turned to see Eren with his arms crossed. He was pouting like a child and you wondered what his deal was. You figured with your earlier comment, he would be over the moon to hear you hinting at liking him. You skipped up to him, getting on the tips of your toes as you poked his cheek.

"What's the matter? You look like a scolded child."

"Nothing." He muttered, looking away as his jaw clenched and you only poked him once more.

"Liar." You called him out, "Talk to me."

"You didn't answer Captain Levi's question."

You were sure that there was a giant question mark on top of your head, the gear in your mind shifting as you tried to recall what the captain asked before your mouth opened in realization. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at Eren's shoes and he only seemed to grow angrier as he watched you blush.

"About my crush? Oh! Well I wouldn't call him a brat, but I guess his attitude could often warrant that title. He's got this sort of this determined mentality that I guess some people can find...overbearing." You played with the cuff of your dress, "But I personally find it charming."

"So he's charming?"

You hummed as you smiled, "He's a bit rough around the edges, but he always means well. He's easy on the eyes too. Got really nice hair and pretty colored eyes that makes me swoon around him. Not to mention his body looks like Zeus could be his father." To add emphasis, your body leaned side to side as you laughed.

Eren snorted, his eyes rolling as he thought of any guy he knew that was like you described. All he could think of was Captain Levi and Erwin. He hated to think of Levi as charming, but he was rough all around. Erwin had eyes that Historia had once described as pretty, but to think of you being attracted to someone as old as him made his stomach flip.

"Want to head back to my office?" You suggested, not wanting to leave Eren's side until he figured it out but also not wanting to stick around in case other officers walked in. You got a stiff nod and wanted to giggle when Eren still opened the door for you. As the both of you walked through the large building, you added a hop to your step as you continued,

"He's also such a gentleman. He respects me, he's never intimidated by my sharp wit, always opens doors for me, waits until I'm sitting before he starts eating, and he almost seems proud of me being a doctor. He's just so understanding and sure of himself as a man that I guess the idea of having a girlfriend in my position would never make him feel inferior." You turned to look at Eren sideways and noticed his shoulders hunched, you knew it was cruel how you kept teasing him but were hopeful that it would click for him soon, so you went on.

"Wow, sounds like a real keeper." He grumbled, now thinking of Jean or even Connie. Armin was too occupied with Annie and Reiner was too obsessed with Historia to hang around you. There was no way Beruto/Borrito/Bertoto would catch your eye as you had made it a point to always get his name wrong, but Connie made you laugh and Jean was always extra nice to you.

"I'm telling you, I think he's perfect. He's dependable, strong, and we share so many of the same ideas. I could talk to him for hours and never be bored and when I'm not with him, I feel...sad. I just constantly want to be by his side and if I'm not I want him to be thinking about me because that's exactly what I do."

You both entered your office, you walked up to your desk as you spoke, turning around and leaning against it to look at Eren. He had closed your door a little harder than necessary, the wood shaking against the frame as he crossed his arms and leaned his back on the door. He looked downright irritated and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

"So why haven't you told him?"

You shrugged, "I think I've been pretty obvious about it, I'm always smiling when he's in the room, I always want to be with him, there's never a day where we don't walk together. I even wore this dress for him today."

You waved down at your figure, Eren's eyes looked over you twice and you jumped up on your desk, your thighs parting as you let the short skirt cover your panties and barely cover the tops of your thighs.

"I'm sure he'll love it." Eren spit out.

"I don't know..." You tilted your head, "Do you?"

Eren pushed himself off the door, going to your bookcase and letting his fingers brush the spines of the books, "It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not Mr. Pretty eyes. Sounds like a simpleton to me."

You let out an actual deep sigh and Eren met you with furrowed brows.

"What?"

"You're so fucking dense, Eren."

"What did I say?" He threw his hands up, "Just because I called him simple? I'm so sorry I don't care to hear you go on and on about this guy. I never thought I'd see you bend over backwards for some guy who opens doors for you. I thought you would have higher standards than that."

You let out a snort, "Keep talking Yeager, and I just might higher them."

"I mean I never thought looks would be so important to you. It's so-"

"So what?" Your tongue had a sharp edge that did not go unnoticed by Eren. He stood only a few feet from your desk, but you saw the awkward shift in his posture.

"Shallow." He spit out.

"Excuse me?" You gave him a look that said if he wouldn't apologize in the next ten seconds, he would surely live to regret it.

"What I mean is...what guy could possibly have this head over heels and you're just now telling me? I thought...I thought we-" He stopped, looking to the side and you relaxed before saying,

"We what, Eren?"

"I thought we had something special." He muttered. He looked to see your mouth opened in a small gasp and he began to turn to exit when you quietly beckoned him over.

"Eren...come here."

"No, I should g-"

"Please." You begged and the look in your eyes brought him to stand in front of you. Your hands reached for his shirt, yanking him forward and you hooked your legs around his calves. Eren gaped at you, not knowing what to do and say as you put one hand on his shoulder and the other cupped his cheek.

"You are such a dumbass." You laughed, "The person I've been going on and on about, that simpleton you bashed, is you. It's always been you, Eren."

It was like watching a light flicker on very very slowly, but once it was on you watched as embarrassment flooded Eren. His smile was sheepish and stupid as he stuttered over his words. His hands rested on your hips and you stroked his face from his temple to jaw as you asked,

"Do you maybe feel the same way?"

You didn't get a verbal answer, the sudden kiss Eren laid on you was an answer enough. His lips were soft and warm as they moved against your own, his tongue enveloped yours and you felt him lean more onto you. The moan that slipped out his mouth when you bit his bottom lip made something tighten in your stomach.

When you two finally broke apart you didn't miss the trail of saliva that connected the two of you and you whimpered for more. The second kiss was heavier, a clash of teeth and tongues as Eren feverishly wrestled to touch you everywhere his hands could reach. You felt him press against your core, the loud gasp you let out made him look at you in concern.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll stop if you want me to."

You shook your head as you met those green eyes that held you captive since day one, "More. I want more."

The smirk was something you had never seen, his eyes became half-lidded as Eren kissed your nose. Then your chin, then your neck. When he reached your collar, his finger hooked onto the top of your dress, pulling the fabric down as he kissed just above your breast.

"She wants more." He said to himself, the soft rasp in his voice made you attempt to close your legs. His hands pushed what little that had covered your legs up and Eren's fingers brushed your core.

The jump you gave made his smirk grow, "I haven't even touched you yet."

He saw the small patch of dampness on your panties, and before you could ask him what he was doing, you let out a sharp gasp when his fingers pushed the fabric to the side and he plunged two fingers into your pussy.

The moan he ripped from you was like music to his ears and as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out he watched as your face became hot and red. It was uncomfortable as first, you could even say it hurt but that didn't stop you from rocking your hips up to meet his eager hands. You weren't entirely prepared as you felt a bit tense as Eren kissed your neck, the suckling on your flesh making small breathy whimpers leave your mouth. His other hand's fingers hovered over the buttons on the back of your dress and his eyes asked for permission as he glanced up at you.

A small tentative nod was all he received before he took out his hand from between your legs, his tongue skillfully licking the digits cleaned and you didn't think you would find such an act so erotic. You arm hooked around his neck as you brought him down to a kiss, you could taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you back eagerly, his fingers skillfully working the buttons on your dress and you wondered for a brief moment if he had ever done such an act before. You pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to lose focus or confidence while in the middle of being with Eren by letting unnecessary insecure creep into your heart. As if being able to read your mind, Eren said-

"Stop being in your head," A hard kiss against your lips, "Be here with me."

His nose rubbed sweetly against yours, fingers tilting your head up as you gave a hesitant nod. Your eyes wanted to focus anywhere but his eyes and you could felt warmth spread across your cheeks when the sleeves of your dress fell down your arms. The idea of letting Eren see all of you was as exciting as it was nerve-wrecking, the most he ever saw was your legs and back from that one time you walked out of the bath in only a towel. Seeing him shirtless was not new but you still felt your breath catch in your throat as you watched him yank the material off. Your hands explored the newly exposed skin, fingers dipping in every curve of muscle and your hand rested just above the waistband of his jeans. You noticed his breathing grow heavy, Eren's head falling forward on your exposed shoulder where you felt him nip and suck on the soft flesh. You returned the favor by kissing him on the chest, your eyes still casted downwards as you fumbled with the buckle on his belt, you let out a small curse from how hard your hands were shaking and Eren placed a gentle hand on top of yours, his eyes alight with amusement as his lips curved into a soft smile.

"Baby, relax." He murmured, he pushed your hands aside as he took over the task. You let out a deep breath as you heard the sound of his zipper being tugged down and you decided to be bold. You lowered the upper half of your dress, the cotton falling off your arms with ease and you blushed furiously once you remembered that you hardly ever wore bras and today was no different.

Your nipples were taut as you shivered from the cold air in your office and Eren stared at you in wonder his eyes raking your body as you looked to the side and brought your bottom lip in between your teeth.

"Fuck, can I touch you?" Eren blurted, his hands still near his trousers and you giggled when he added a last second, "Please."

Nodding, you figured it was time to stop feeling so shy. You had been dreaming about this moment for months, yet as the man you loved stood before you, eager to be with you, all you could think about was how scared you were that you wouldn't be enough to satisfy him.

One more glance at the way he watched you was enough for you to think, If he really didn't, he wouldn't be looking at me as if I put all the stars in the sky.

You felt the second wind of confidence hit you and you took Eren by surprise as you hooked your fingers on his belt loops and tugged the fabric down. You palmed him through the thin material of his briefs and his hips jerked from the contact before he melted against you. Lowering the elastic, your small hand wrapped itself around his shaft and you took a moment to admire his dick. It was something new and foreign to you, for a moment you wondered if all male penises looked like that but you pushed that thought aside as you found yourself not really wanting to ever know, as long as Eren's would be the only one you saw. You hand moved up and down, your thumb brushing across his tip as you swiped some of the liquid leaking out to use as lube.

You knew he was a few inches above average, the thickness was also enough to make you worry for a moment whether he would be able to fit in you as his fingers struggling to push inside of you were of any indication of how tight your body was. Either way you were determined to satisfy the both of you, the idea of him using you and watching his face come apart as he milked himself dry using only your pussy had your head feeling fuzzy with want. He rested his head on you, causing your body to lean back and you pressed one palm on your desk behind you and the other jerked him off a bit sloppily. His moans filled the space of your office, you secretly prayed to the gods that the scouts could be smart enough for once to not be injured or to be able to at least handle it themselves and your eyes flickered to the door for a moment.

"Eren," You murmured to the shell of his ear, his heavy breaths fanning across the span of your chest and you felt both your bodies getting hot. "The door, we need to lock the door."

His groan was the only response you got as he trailed kisses up your neck and shoulder, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, he was such a guy sometimes. You began to lower yourself from the desk before his hand on your leg suddenly halted your movements and he gave you a lazy smile, his half lidded eyes softly rolling as he let out an obnoxious groan of annoyance.

"I'll do it." He didn't even bother to tuck himself back into his briefs, his dick fully erect as he made way to your door. You felt your hand falling to your side and you bit your lip as you thought about what you wanted to do twice before letting your own hand push the fabric of your underwear to the side once more. You rubbed at your clit lazily as you softly moaned, your eyes closing at the sensation and you smiled when you heard the soft, "Shit." coming from a few feet ahead of you. Eren's eyes were transfixed on you, the way your head rolled back as your moans became louder and higher pitched was making him painfully hard and he wanted-no needed to be inside of you before he was sure he would come right then and there.

Your eyes were still closed when you felt him settle between your legs once more, eyes hazy and smile lazy as you felt him tug your panties down your legs. Your ass lifted briefly to help and you giggled when he grunted in annoyance from having to shuffle backwards to slip them off completely. He laughed with you as his hand cupped you by your jaw, lips finding yours in a tender kiss and the hand that had been rubbing at your clit was used to steady yourself by his shoulder. His muscles flexed under your touch and your breaths intermingled as he stared at you with such an intensity that you felt your stomach flip. You looked down to where he rubbed his length along your folds and gulped.

"I-I'm nervous." You admitted, cheeks blushing and Eren kissed your temple.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you. Do you trust me?" You gasped at the intensity in his eyes, Eren Yeager was one who never beat around the bush and you felt tears pool around your eyes as you nodded. Everything leading up to this moment overwhelmed you suddenly, losing your family, gaining your dream job, becoming independent so quickly, and falling in love with a man who turned into what so many feared but who let you place` flower crowns on his head during tea parties. He continued to maintain eye contact with you, your lips parting and eyes partly closing as he began to push past your labia. It all felt too much, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else in that exact moment Eren pressed his tip into your passageway. There was a bit of resistance and the guttural moan he released made your eyes widen in an audible gasp, he looked ethereal with reddened cheeks, a slacked opened jaw, eyes that looked close to tears, and thin layer of sweat making his dark brown locks stick to his forehead.

He pushed another inch in, trying his best to not act too quickly or too harshly. All he wanted to do was fucking ruin you. Mark you as his by impregnating you and watching as you took every drop of his semen. It seemed you wanted it too as your hips jerked forward and took in another inch.

"Eren, please." You had no idea what you were asking for, he was being slow and gentle and as much as you appreciated his mindfulness, it had been six long months and if you had to go through another night of humping your pillow or rubbing one out with only fantasies of Eren touching you (Sometimes even Levi, depending on how much alcohol you had consumed) you were gong to scream.

Another inch and a deep chuckle was his response. Your eyes were set ablaze as the realization that he was teasing you.

"Please what baby?"

"Give it to me." You whispered, your hand tugging at his hair harshly and the hiss of pain he released was simultaneous when he completely thrusted his entire length into you. Your thighs jerked at the sudden intrusion and the cry you let out was loud enough that if anybody were nearby, the would have assumed someone struck you. Your hand smacked against his chest, your breath ragged as you attempted to give Eren an angry glance but your pussy betrayed you as it clenched hard around him.

You both released a gasp when Eren fully bottomed out inside you. His hips flush against your parted thighs and your foreheads pressed against one another, lips brushing but not kissing yet as you two came to terms of what was being done. You and Eren were one, there was no going back from what was about to transpire and you silently prayed that he wouldn't regret it later.

"Stop being in your head," He murmured against your mouth, eyes looking into yours, "Be here..."

He gave a heavenly thrust and you felt his arms wrap themselves around your waist as he forced you to fall back onto your desk with a small uff and your hands fell onto his shoulders. Your legs locked around his waist and the new angle caused him to be deeper inside you, but he continued to stare at your with that same admiration from that day he had met you.

"With me."

You nodded slowly, kissing Eren for what felt like the first time. A bit shyly and unsure as your mouth moved against his slowly, you savored the taste of tea and something sweet from his tongue and you let one of your hands hold him by his face as the other found solace in his hair.

Eren began to thrust into you, the rhythm a bit off at first as you two tried to find what worked and when he dipped his hips a little and heard the string of filthy words leaving your mouth, he gave a knowing smirk.

"Hmm, right there princess?"

You panted, your tongue lolling out as his began to go faster. One of your hands shot out to the side to brace yourself on something when Eren began to fuck you harder and instead you turned to see you hand knocked your bottle of ink over, the deep blue liquid was spilling everywhere but before you could let your brain process the mess, Eren began to suck on the flesh of your neck that you exposed when you moved your head. You moaned as you closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensations of it all, your hands grabbing at the muscles in his back and you arched your own and pressed your chest into him.

"Oh fuck," Eren moaned out, "This pussy is so good. You're taking me so well, princess."

"Yeah?" You panted out, "Going to cum in me, baby?"

Eren picked himself up on his forearms, too preoccupied with how pretty your tits looks bouncing with each thrust to notice the your hair was sprawled all over and the upper part of his arm was touching something wet, he figured it was the sweat you two were producing with your coupling.

"I'm gonna get you pregnant, make you mine forever."

"I'm yours!" You screamed as his hips slammed particularly harder down onto your own.

"Choke me, make me a mommy, cum in me, just please don't stop fucking me." You cried out, and a new sort of excitement showed in his eyes, his hand cupped just below your jaw and the light pressure he put on you made you moan louder.

The sounds of skin smacking, panting breaths, and heavy moans filled the air. Eren coaxing you to come all over his dick as you begged him to not pull out of you echoed of the walls of your office. You went on like that for a good while and you giggled in realization that your silent wish for everyone to leave the two of you alone for a while had come true.

Unbeknownst to you two, there had almost been three interruptions. The first being Captain Levi who wanted to ask if mixing his blood pressure medicine with wine would be too dangerous, but when he heard you scream he almost barged in before the unmistakable moan that followed made him fully come to a halt. He didn't even think twice about what was transpiring, briefly remembering that Eren was in fact with you this morning before quickly turning around and hauled ass as far from the hallway as he could. He wasn't sure where he was heading before he stumbled into Erwin's office, the commander looking up to see his captain look like he just ran a marathon.

"Levi? You look like you just saw a ghost?" His eyebrows creased, "Are you okay?"

"Yeager isn't as dense as we thought."

Eren stood to his full height, grabbing at your ankles and moving your legs onto his shoulders to they were fully parallel to his body. You let out another giggle at how your ankles were now on either side of his head, but the small kiss he gave your right one made you let out a noise of adoration. He gripped your hips, smiling as he noted the streaks of something blue all over your chest and neck but decided against telling you as your pussy began to pulsate around him. There was no way in hell he was going to stop you from orgasming.

The second time was Sasha and Connie as they wanted to ask if eating candies with the wrapper still on was anything they needed to worry about, but the sounds of your desk scraping across the floor with Eren commending you for being a good girl and taking him so well made the both of them stare at each other with wide eyes. The "Huh?"'s they exchanged were amusing to anyone else and Sasha grabbed Connie by the collar before they hightailed out of there. Connie wanting to see if Eren had really been capable of pulling you and Sasha calling it bullshit and stating that the real reason was that he wanted to see you naked.

His thrusts became wild and sloppy, the slushing sounds you two were making was the hottest sounds you ever heard. You held onto his wrists, your smile wide and beautiful and Eren knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.

"I'm not gonna last long," He let you know, you nodded as you reached down to rub your clit in circles.

"Fuck, you look so hot." He blurted, his cheeks a deeper red and you gave him another soft smile.

"Thanks, baby. You too." His abs were going to be the death of you and you hoped you would get the chance to suck him off later to lick them one by one in foreplay.

You felt him begin to twitch in you and you knew you were so close, your rubbing speeding up as Eren's thrusts were becoming more sporadic. The way his eyes began to roll upwards had you chanting,

"I'm-I'm cumming!" Your moan was breathy and high as you felt your release overwhelm your senses, you felt euphoria as you moaned so loud that Jean and Floch who didn't believe Connie when he said that Eren had managed to bed you stared at each other with wide eyes and gaped mouths as they stood outside your door. Their cheeks red as they rushed down the hallway as if their asses were on fire, not even halfway down the stairs when they felt their collars yanked at so harshly they almost trampled down, Captain Levi's glare knowing as he began to reprimand them for being nosy pricks.

Eren's cock dove into you hard and you felt him pulsate as he shot long ropes of cum into you, his essence overflowing as he filled you to the brim and painted your insides white.

His moan was unbelievably loud and low, the "I love you." That followed didn't go unnoticed by you and the smile he gave, made you realize how much he meant it.

"I love you." Your answered back, he pushed your thighs to your chest when he lowered himself to kiss you. His cock softening inside you and he slowed his thrusts down and milked himself dry. He tapped his tip on your sensitive clit, making sure he was empty before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. The creampie in you was beginning to ooze out and he used his two fingers to push it back in, your hips bucking at the intrusion and you whined about your sensitivity.

You sat up, your hand going to fix your hair, only groaning slightly when you felt the ink on some strands already drying. You huffed before jumping down and fixing your dress. Eren was putting his shirt back on, his back slightly turned to you and your eyes widened in embarrassment at seeing the blue ink in what was obviously your finger prints streaked all over. You looked down and saw that it had well faded from your hands, transferring to your lover who put on his jacket. You shrugged, figuring no one would see it and you could wash your hands later. Your hair would be a bit tricky to explain but you would be home to shower soon anyway, which reminded you-

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" You blurted, scaring Eren as his eyes widened, you bit the inside of your cheek and fumbled with your fingers.

He smiled, walking up to you and kissing you on the lips before replying, "I would love to. I have to do some work today, and pack an overnight bag but I'll be home by dinner." His eyes looked you over, stifling a laugh when he saw the marks of blue ink on your neck, debating on telling you but not being able to deny how cute they looked on you, a gentle reminder of what happened just moments ago and an odd turn on for him to think of it as him marking you as his, the lovebite also on the side making him watch you with love.

You nodded before giving a follow-up question, "Chicken or fish?"

"Fish." He nodded, you grabbed a few papers from your desk drawer and Eren asked if you were all set before taking your hand into his as the two of you began to walk out the office, you mentioned having to speak to Erwin about the cadet recovering from a broken limb and Eren listened patiently, your hands swinging in between the two of you and you both relished at how easy it felt to transition into a life of domestication together. He walked you to Erwin's office, his knuckles knocking on the door before a loud, "One minute!" replied.

You both shared a look of confusion before shrugging and stepping to the side. You fixing his hair and Eren's hand resting on top of your hips when the office door opened. You both turned to see Jean and Floch who sported sullen faces, their arms swinging in front of them as if they were children just denied a cone of ice cream.

"Boys?" You called, your free hand interlocking with Eren who stood in place as you took a step toward the pair. "Everything alright?"

They looked between you and Eren, Jean seeing the ink marks on your neck and seeing Eren's hair haphazard was enough to make him look to the floor, his cheeks reddening and Eren could only smirk. Floch was the opposite, he couldn't take his eyes off you as his face held a permanent grimace and you wondered if he was constipated.

"Baby," Eren called, tugging you back to him and Jean scoffed, Possessive ass is already showing her off. He thought to himself.

"They just got yelled at by Erwin, whatever they did was obviously bad, just leave them be."

You nodded in understanding, giving them a comforting smile and Floch didn't miss the knowing look in Eren's eyes.

"Sorry to hear about that. If you two ever need anything, you know where my office is."

"Yeah, that's the problem." Captain Levi's voice came from the doorway. Jean and Floch mumbled a quick goodbye before scurrying away and you couldn't help but fall into deeper confusion.

The captain and Eren exchanged looks before Eren bent to kiss your cheek.

"I got to go. I'll see you later, princess." You blushed at the nickname and public display, murmuring a soft okay in reply as your boyfriend? walked away from you.

You gave Levi a smile which he didn't return, you didn't miss the small blush on his cheeks and you figured it was from seeing such intimacy from Eren. You were almost positive Levi was still a virgin. Walking into Erwin's office, you all but skipped the man's desk, falling beside him and giving him a bright smile which he returned.

"Hey Erwin, just wanted to update you on the cadet's recovery plan. He should be back in training in a few months if he listens to my instructions, think you can help me?"

"Sure what do you need?"

"Well, I'd need you to sign these release forms first." You shrugged putting the papers in front of him, you looked at his desk and grabbed the pen, "Where's your ink?"

The chuckle the two men gave you made your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"What?"

"Seems like you're wearing it, Doc." Levi's eyes flickered to your neck.

You let out a gasp and your hands slapped to cover you and the laughs that followed only made you blush furiously.

Dammit, You thought, Eren you idiot.

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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

Text

A Blinded Kiss

I haven’t posted anything recently so I dug around in my WIPs to see if anything was even worth posting and I found this that I made a while ago. It certainly isn’t the best but it isn’t the worst out of all my other WIPs.

"Is this really necessary?" The bluenette asked, eyeing a blindfold given by her brotherly figure.

"Of course it is Pixie!" An older man with two-toned hair replied, way too over enthusiastic about the whole situation. "It's a great way to find your way around the manor”

"And it's a great family bonding experience too!" Another man in the room replied, even more enthusiastic than the first.

"Fine, I'll do it Jay" the blue-eyed girl huffed, twirling the blindfold between her fingers. "What are the rules again, Dick?"

Dick beamed at the girl before answering. "Well Mari, it's simple. Put the blindfold on, count to fifty, spin around and try to steal a hug from anyone in the manor"

"So I have to walk around the manor blindfolded and try to sneak up on you? You know that's impossible!" Marinette exclaimed, she would not go around the house looking like a touch-starved fool.

"That's exactly why we're doing it" Jason replied, shrugging his shoulders. "It'll last a long time."

After a few seconds, the blue-eyed girl sighed, giving in to both Jason and Dick. "Fine, if that's what makes you happy" Marinette wrapped the matte-black fabric tightly around her eyes, already struggling within the first few seconds. She began counting and she heard the two scuffling away, smiling while being able to tell which direction they went in. In the mean time, Marinette debated her options.

'Both Jason and Dick would be the ideal choices but they'll be able to hear me from a mile away. Tim would be the most logical one since he's half asleep, but where does he even go in this maze? God knows where Alfred is, Mr Wayne is scary. Damian-' She paused her train of thoughts, granted Marinette had only met him a few days ago but that didn't stop the crush she had heavily try to cease. 'He'd probably hear me from a mile away as well. This game is so unfair'

Soon enough, Marinette reached fifty and spun herself around, she used a bit too much force than needed so now not only was she blinded but she lost her sense of direction. Giving herself a minute to recover, the bluenette began to walk. Using her improved senses, thanks to the miraculous, Mari was slowly able to create a theoretical map in her mind, though it did take much more energy than she desired.

"Fighting an akuma is easier than this" The bluenette muttered as she hit her thigh along the corner of a wall.

Even though she was using her enhanced abilities, she'd pump into a corner or a wall every now and again, the amount of times increased when her energy was being used. After wondering a hall for what seemed like hours, the bluenette came to a staircase, one that she ever so carefully used to get to a higher floor. Once she did, she kept a hand on one of the walls, using it as a guide. Soon enough, her hand came to what felt like a doorframe. The door was closed she could tell but it was recent used due to the fact that the doorknob was warm. Making sure not to intrude, she knocked on said door, she almost missed the muffled 'come in' had she not been paying attention. Marinette opened the door, went in and quickly shut it behind her, taking a deep breath.

"Okay I hope you don't mind but which room is this and whose in the room? Dick and Jason thought it would be a good idea to walk around the manor blindfolded while trying to sneak up on them" The bluenette huffed, only to freeze when she heard a familiar chuckle.

"I've heard, you're in my room, It's Damian just to clarify" 'Sh-' "So, what task must be fulfilled to give you permission to take the blindfold off? I doubt you want to keep it on any longer" Marinette giggled.

"You're right, I would probably get lost of I continue. Um, I have to 'steal a hug' apparently"

"So you have to hug someone without them inspecting it" Damian came to that conclusion to which the bluenette nodded her head.

"Yeah that's basically it, hey do you have anywhere I could sit down? I'm getting tired..."

"Of course, my bed is five steps to your front and two steps to your right, make yourself comfortable" She wasn't sure how red she had gotten but she obliged anyway. Had she not been wearing the blindfold, she would've seen Damian smiling at her flustered state. Giving herself a moment to regain her energy, Marinette turned to where she presumed Damian was working at his desk. "Can I hug you? Jay never said I couldn't ask the person first. I-I won't if you don't want me to! I just wanted to ask so..."

She heard the boy thoughtfully hum before he made his way over to her. From what she could tell, Damian was now in front of Marinette, looming over her.

"Did Todd or Grayson say it had to be a hug?" Marinette tilted her head in confusion and thoughtfulness, that had never crossed her mind before.

"W-"

"What happens if I kiss you instead?"

The bluenette didn’t reply with words as she knew how terrible her words would be in her flustered state. But she wanted this, her heart longed for it in a way it never did for anyone else. Instead, she nodded, giving the green-eyed boy permission to do as he wished.

She felt his hand lightly tilt her chin up towards, where she presumed, his face was. Then he pressed his lips onto hers, his other had behind her head, tugging at the fabric around her eyes. Marinette felt bliss, she was glad that no one else would interrupt this moment. Shivers went down her spine as she felt Damian’s hands travel up from behind her neck and to wear the blindfold was knotted, gently tugging at the binding. She was glad that when her face was free from the fabric that comprised her vision, the first thing in her line of eyesight were Damian's deep emerald eyes, the shimmered the same way they had when she first laid eyes on him, she'd been enraptured ever since. The boy, however, was smirking as he noticed the pink that dusted her face. Without a moment passing, she threw herself the green-eyed boy, delivering a hug. As she pulled away, her hands cupped his face and she returned his embrace with one of her own. When she pulled away once more, she smiled in satisfaction at his flustered expression.

"When did you realise you had feelings for me?" Marinette asked softly, her forehead pressed against his trying to regain her breath.

"That's a very easy question" Damian stared lovingly into her eyes. "I fell the moment I saw you take down that Akuma three times your size" Her eyes widened.

"You know about me being Ladybug?"

"The same way you know I'm Robin"

They both smiled, creating a truce to not reveal anything.

"Well I better get going, see you later." She got up from the bed and opened the door, only to turn around and say "Je t'aime mon cœur" before exiting the room, leaving a blushing Damian.

Marinette walked back down the stairs, the piece of cloth in hand and small love-struck smile on her face. When she entered the main living room, she came face to face with the owner of the manor.

"Oh hello Mr Wayne"

"Hello Marinette, I see you managed to get the blindfold off" The older man gestured towards the piece of fabric in her hand. "And please, do call me Bruce. Who did you end up surprising with a hug then?"

She smiled brightly before replying. "Damian"

His usual formal demeanor broke for a moment but Bruce quickly picked the pieces back up. "He didn't attack you or injure you in any shape or form?"

Marinette decided to play the oblivious little girl. "No..? Why, does he do it often?" Her head titled in confusion.

"Nothing it doesn't matter" Bruce simply sighed and shook his head. "Also, there's something I'd like to discuss with you at dinner, if you don't mind"

"No not at all, I'll see you at dinner then?" Bruce nodded and left, leaving Marinette alone in the room, waiting for her honorary older brother and his brother to come in. Which they did but only after some time, it was hilarious to see them crouched down, talking to each other in hushed voices. They flinched as she cleared her throat, both slowly turning towards the sound to find a smug looking Marinette and a blindfold whipped around her finger.

"I win"

~~~

Most of the occupants at the table were either in an all out war or were about to be, except for Marinette and an exasperated Bruce Wayne.

"So Marinette" The eldest Wayne began, silencing the rest of the table. "I hope you don't mind me asking but when you were off searching for Jason, you mentioned attacks that have been occurring in Paris, is this true?"

No one failed to notice the girl flinch. "Yeah it's true"

"...how bad are the attacks? In your opinion"

"Well it depends on how strong the person's emotions are really. If their emotions are strong, then the Akuma is strong too"

"What's the strongest akuma that Paris has seen?" It was Tim who asked and memories of the event began swimming through her mind, she got rid of them with a shake of her head.

"The deadliest akuma Paris has experienced was an akuma called 'Syren'. She's a regular person but, as an akuma, she managed to kill around 2 million people. But don't worry! Ladybug's cure managed to bring them back to life"

"D-did... did you die, Pixie?" Jason asked, his anger mixed with worry was boiling over and luckily simmered after seeing her shake her head.

"Do you think the heroes of Paris would let heroes from the Justice League come over to help?"

Marinette contemplated for a moment, should she really risk the heroes getting akumatized? "I think they would but I wouldn't know"

Bruce nodded while Jason leaned over the table to talk closer to his honorary little-sister. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to bother you"

"You're not a bother, Pixie" Jason smiled at the bluenette on the other side of the table. "You never are and you never will be"

~~~

Marinette returned to Paris a few days later, in the mean time, Bruce and the rest of the batfam were planning their visit to the City of Love. Soon enough, the vigilantes were boarded on the plane. Their flight to Paris was relatively silent. After a few hours, they landed and the vigilantes waited on the Eiffel Tower, only to find out there was a battle going on. Before they could engage in the fight, they were engulfed with magical ladybugs that seemed to fix anything destroyed. As they were mesmerized by the cure, a certain spotted-heroine wobbly landed on the platform. Batman was first to notice.

"Ladybug" His voice caused the others to turn around. "Thank you for allowing us into your city"

Ladybug nodded, not uttering a single word.

"We were hoping, with your permission of course, that we could help you be rid of Hawkmoth once and for good" Again, Ladybug didn't reply. "Ladybug?"

When the heroine didn't respond, Batman glanced at Nightwing and the rest of his sons, clearly something was wrong. Unexpectedly, Robin took his glove off, approached the Ladybug-themed hero and placed his hand onto her forehead.

"You have a fever" he stated, his hand trailing down her face to cup her cheek. His family all shot him weird looks. She tiredly blinked at the vigilante, recognising him as Robin and allowed herself to fall into his arms, detransforming while doing so, leaving a burning hot Marinette.

"Dami?" He hummed. "Take me home, please..." She drifted off to sleep, comforted in her lover's arms. He glanced at his family, holding the bluenette close.

"Pixie...is Ladybug?" Red Hood's voice was first.

"You didn't know?" Robin's voice mocking confusion, enraging Red Hood that his youngest brother knew something about his sister that he didn't. Even more so that his demon brother was holding said sister,

"We should take her back home" Dick went over to feel the girl's forehead. "She's burning"

"Tikki?" Robin asked and a red creature flew out from one of Mari's pockets, startling most of the people there.

"I'll try to heal her on the way, follow me"

The floating red creature flew down from the Eiffel Tower, Robin and Marinette close behind. After some hesitation, the others followed, they ended up on top of a bakery. One by one, they entered through the trapdoor on the balcony, finding both Damian with his mask off and a weak looking Marinette. Despite her enfeebled state, the bluenette greeted each vigilante, her gaze landed on Jason.

"It's just a fever, I'll be fine"

Jason removed his helmet and ran a hand through his hair before both settled on his hips. "You don't look fine"

"I promise I am" She wasn't convincing, not at all.

"Fine" Jason huffed, he could never truly say no to the girl he viewed as his little sister. "But since when were you two a thing" He pointed at the two, his gaze resting maliciously on Damian.

"It's all thanks to you, you know" Marinette smirked at Jason's confusion. Tim snickered as he seemed to catch on to what she was saying.

"Had you not organized that 'blindfolded game', I doubt we would be together at this moment" Damian supplied the information, clearly unfazed by the burning rage in the eyes of his older brother.

"Baby Bird's all grown up" The eldest Wayne son overdramatized wiping a fake tear, Batman sighed at his two eldest sons while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Get your fucking hands off her, Demon Brat!" Jason tried to lunge at Damian, only to be stopped by both Dick and Tim. Though his fury only grew when Marinette snuggled closer to the green-eyed boy, both smirked in victory over Jason's horrified appearance.

Marinette was now part of the family in more ways than one. Though they wish they had found out in better circumstances, they would be able to take down Hawkmoth once and for all, side by side, all together. And to think this all happened because of a silly blindfold game.

#daminette #damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #ml x dc #big brother jason #this is eh I guess

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dragonkeeper19600 · 3 years

Text

Jaws: The Musical (Concept)

So, out of curiosity, I looked online to see if anyone had ever adapted a musical from Jaws. There is a musical called Bruce that’s scheduled to debut in Seattle next year about the production of Jaws (and I would be interested in seeing that), but as for a musical of the Jaws story itself, I found one that’s for kids and about 48 minutes long.

Now, I’ve never seen this musical, so I cannot attest as to its quality, but, in my opinion, both of those choices are wrong. This musical should be the full two acts, and it should be aimed at adults.

I’ve been brainstorming, and I think I’ve got a hypothetical musical all mapped out. You might think a musical based on Jaws is silly, but a lot of successful musicals have been adapted from really strange things (such as a comic book artist’s coming-out memoir, a crappy Roger Corman movie, and a collection of goofy cat poems), and I feel like a Jaws musical could be really epic. The story easily lends itself into a two-act structure. The first act is the shark attacks on Amity Island, and the second act is the hunt for the shark in the Orca.

However, the musical wouldn’t make the mistake of putting lyrics to John Williams’s iconic Jaws theme. The theme would obviously be used as a leitmotif throughout the show, but it’s not the type of song that lends itself to lyrics, and I think that would be corny,

So, the musical would play out like this:

ACT ONE:

The movie opened with Chrissie’s death, so the stage show will do the same. The scene will be short and all dialogue, no singing. The shark will also not be seen, but its presence will be implied by the music, lighting, and Chrissy’s acting.

First song: “Welcome to Amity Island.” Functions as an intro to the setting of Act One. The tone is joyous and celebratory as the islanders welcome the flood of tourists that always come in the summer. A big portion of the song is sung by Mayor Vaughn as he sings about what a wonderful vacation spot Amity Island is. We also meet Brody, and a dark undercurrent is introduced to the song as he finds Chrissy’s mangled body.

Brody, of course, takes steps to close the beach right away, but he’s stopped by the Mayor, who sings the second song, “Summer Dollars,” where the Mayor insists that closing the beaches is bad for the town and that Brody shouldn’t be causing an unnecessary panic and causing hysteria that could drive tourists away. Brody tries to argue back but in the end, Vaughn has his way.

Brody returns to the station, apprehensive about keeping the beaches open. Here, we’re introduced to Brody’s wife, Ellen, who saw no problem with visiting him at work since nothing ever happens on Amity Island. Brody expresses his uneasiness, but Ellen assures him that his fear of the water is making him overestimate the danger. This gets Brody’s coworkers curious, so, with a little prompting from Ellen, Brody sings his first solo, “Drowning,” about his fear of the water. In the song, Brody sings about a childhood incident where a bully held him underwater at a public swimming pool. Not only did this give him a fear of water, but the bullying he received as a child is what set him on the path to become a cop, since he wanted to be able to protect people from suffering the same mistreatment he did. However, he moved from New York City because the working environment there was unfriendly to cops who wish to protect and serve instead of, well, being typical American cops.

Next song: “Blue Sky” Just as the Mayor wished, the beaches are open, and summer is in full swing. Brody is there with his family, anxiously keeping an eye on the water. The rest of the ensemble doesn’t share his anxiety, however, as they frolic and play in the sun. Brody is jolted to his feet several times by the sound of screaming, but it’s always a false alarm. However, the mood turns scary as we segue into the next song:

“Shark!” - While out swimming on his raft, young Alex Kintner is attacked and eaten. Brody sees it and screams the title of the song. It’s pandemonium as people rush out of the water, and the song is fast-paced and chaotic. However, it ends on a mournfully quiet note as Mrs. Kintner calls for her son. (”Alex? Alex!?”)

Quick scene transition, and we move immediately into he next song, called “Something Must Be Done.” Here, at a town council meeting, the townspeople argue back and forth about what to do about their shark problem. I imagine the music here sounding like the “Mayor’s Meeting” theme from The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask. Brody argues strongly in favor of closing the beaches (in song, of course), but he is shut down not only by the Mayor but by the rest of the townspeople, who still rely on the income brought in by the tourists. People throw around various suggestions, with one woman finally declaring that she’ll reward whoever catches the shark with three thousand dollars. The song descends into a cacophony as people argue over each other.

The noise is interrupted by the screech of nails on a chalkboard. It’s Quint who sings the titular song, “Jaws,” as he sings about his job as a shark hunter and how dangerous sharks can be. (”Those jaws will swallow you whole. / A little shakin’, tenderizing’, down you go.”) He offers to kill the shark for ten grand, not three. The woman who made the offer balks at the high price, and the Mayor explains that kind of money isn’t in the budget “right now.” Quint takes it in stride and tells everyone they’ll know where to find him if they change their minds. He’s supposedly addressing the room, but he looks right at Brody as he says it. He can tell Brody is the only one who will actually listen.

Many sailors of various aptitudes come to Amity Island, hoping to catch the shark and cash in on that three thousand dollars. Among the new arrivals is Hooper, who introduces himself to Brody as a marine biologist from the Oceanographic Institute. Hooper sings his intro song, “Beautiful,” referring to his views on sharks. Hooper recounts how he was bitten by a shark as a child, but instead of coming to fear them, Hooper walked away fascinated by them and now views sharks to be beautiful creatures. However, the song takes a somber note as Hooper is brought in to examine Chrissie’s remains, and the word “Beautiful” is shifted from referring to sharks to referring to Chrissie when she was alive. (“She was just a kid. / So much of life to live. / Now, bits and scraps are all that’s left. / Of a girl who was once so beautiful.”)

“Hell of a Fish” - The fishermen succeed in catching a large tiger shark, presumed to be the shark that killed Alex and Chrissie. Brody joins in the celebratory atmosphere, but Hooper examines the dead shark’s teeth and is convinced they’ve got the wrong fish. The Mayor and the fisherman who caught the tiger shark argue that this is the shark that’s been causing the trouble, while Hooper argues back that it’s definitely not. Hooper angrily demands that he be allowed to dissect the shark to confirm whether there are human remains inside, but Mayor Vaughn rejects his request. He doesn't care if they’ve got the right shark. He doesn’t believe a third attack will happen either way. (”We’ve got a hell of a fish to show. / And shark attacks are pretty rare, you know?”)

This song is interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Kintner, in funeral attire, who goes up to Brody and slaps him. She then sings “My Boy Is Dead,” a slow, tragic lament about her son, Alex. (“He was just a boy. His whole life still ahead. / Now, I’ll never know what he would’ve been. / Because my boy is dead.”) Mrs. Kintner blames Brody for not warning the town after Chrissie’s death, and Brody takes the blame to heart. The song ends with a callback to “Hell of a Fish,” as Hooper bitterly remarks that he hopes Mayor Vaughn is right about the tiger shark being the culprit, otherwise there’s a “hell of a fish” still out there somewhere.

“Cloud on the Horizon” - Song is kicked off by a TV reporter, who delivers a brief story to the audience about the recent shark attacks on Amity Island. The holiday-making resumes on Amity’s beaches, but people are more nervous than before, The ensemble sings amongst themselves about whether they should go in the water. They finally do so with a little encouragement from the Mayor. Meanwhile, Brody encourages his son Michael to stay in the shallow pond.

“Shark! (Reprise)” - A shark fin is spotted in the water, and the ensemble takes up the alarm, scrambling while frantically singing a reprise of “Shark!” However, the alarm dies down when the fin is revealed to be a fake worn by a swimmer. However, a lone woman takes up the cry again as the shark is spotted swimming toward the pond where Michael is. The music ramps up as the shark takes down a boater mere feet away from Michael, and the audience gets their first clear view of the shark.

“Red Sea” - The song functions as a reprise of “Blue Sky,” but also contains musical elements from “My Boy is Dead.” Brody pulls his son Michael out of the water, unsure of whether he’s still alive. Luckily, Michael is only in shock. Ellen runs to call for an ambulance. As he waits by Michael’s body, Brody sings his second solo, loudly berating everyone in town, including himself, for allowing this to happen three times. All of the beachgoers, including the Mayor, are cowed by his song.

“(Can’t Find) a Good Man” - This is the first song between all three crew members of the Orca. Brody goes to hire Quint to kill the shark, agreeing to pay whatever he wants. Quint knows he has Brody by the balls and keeps upping the price, demanding additional payments like various kinds of booze and a color TV in addition to the ten thousand dollars. Brody agrees to all of it, but Quint’s one crew member refuses to go out after the shark, so Quint fires him. Hooper and Brody volunteer to go along, but Quint is reluctant to bring them aboard. He contemplates whether he should go alone, since Hooper and Brody will be useless on deck. Hooper loudly argues that he's qualified and “doesn’t need this working class hero crap,” but Brody is more gentle and persuasive. He reminds Quint that his own son was nearly killed by this shark and feels he owes it to both his family and the town to help in whatever way he can. Quint is won over by Brody’s humility and agrees to take them both on.

“Farewell, Amity Island” - Reprise of “Welcome to Amity Island” and the Act One Finale. Like “Welcome to Amity Island,” this is a huge ensemble number, this time centering around the Orca’s upcoming departure. Several characters come to see the ship off as Quint yells at Hooper and Brody, including the Mayor and Ellen. The Mayor apologizes to Brody (“I know you’re angry. You have every right to be. / My own children were there in that same red sea.”), where Ellen bids a tearful farewell, knowing she might never see Brody again. Brody’s sung farewells are intercut with a spoken back and forth between Quint and Hooper, as Quint snarks at everything Hooper does. The song also contains instrumental traces of “Spanish Ladies.” Brody and Ellen’s embrace is broken up by Quint as the Orca shoves off.

ACT TWO:

After the act two opener (which is an instrumental of “Jaws,” the song Quint sang earlier), we return to the Orca where Quint fishes off the stern, loudly singing “Spanish Ladies” a cappella. It sounds pretty good, but he’s interrupted by Hooper, who yells that he’s been listening to Quint sing for three hours and can’t take it any more. Brody has no choice but to listen to the ensuing back and forth as he chums the water.

The childish behavior is interrupted when Quint gets a bite. He's convinced it’s the shark, but Hooper, still annoyed with Quint, believes it’s some kind of sport fish. Hooper begrudgingly goes to help Quint pull in the line, but a moment of inattention causes the line to snap.

“City Hands” - Quint berates Hooper for losing the shark and trying to tell a professional shark hunter how to hunt sharks. Their animosity finally erupts into an angry duet as they hurl very personal insults at each other, with Hooper calling Quint a drunken, senile sea dog, while Quint berates Hooper for being a coddled, privileged city boy. Their musical fight looks like it’ll get physical when Hooper snatches the beer Quint was drinking out of his hand and chucks it into the ocean. Luckily, Brody breaks it up, pointedly reminding them why they’re here and that they don’t need to be at each other’s throats when the shark will gladly do that for them. Quint sheepishly apologizes to Brody and only Brody. Hooper likewise backs down.

Brody returns to chumming the water only to toss a shovelful of chum directly into the shark’s face. The shark is right beside the Orca, and it’s huge. There is an instrumental score but no singing as all three men work together to try and bring in the shark. The shark seems unfazed by all the bullets and harpoons they shoot into it, but they manage to attach one barrel to the shark. Quint is satisfied that the shark will tire itself out with the barrel attached and that all they have to do is wait it out. Brody is all for returning to shore and calling the Coast Guard, but Quint ignores him.

Scene transition, and we’re in the ship’s cabin that night. All three men are staying up to wait for the shark, and they’ve had a bit to drink. Quint catches Brody examining the rope burn he got on his hand earlier in the day and reassures him that it won't leave a permanent scar. This segues into the duet “Something Permanent,” as Hooper and Quint compare scars. The tone isn’t angry and harsh as before but jovial and upbeat. Clearly, the earlier animosity is forgiven.

“Those Eyes” - This is Quint’s solo about the sinking of the Indianapolis. Brody asks Quint about a scar on his arm that he hasn’t mentioned. Quint offhandedly mentions it’s a tattoo he had removed. When Hooper makes a joke about it being a “Mother” tattoo, Quint informs him it’s actually for the U.S.S. Indianapolis. Hooper clearly knows the story, but Brody doesn't, so Quint tells it. The song is slow and eerie. The words “those eyes” are used to refer to both the sharks’ eyes and the eyes of his crew mates as they were devoured or lay dead in the water. Quint sings that he still sees those eyes looming up at him in the dark of the night. He then catches the looks on Brody and Hooper’s faces and chuckles darkly, telling them not to look at him with “those eyes.” After all, they delivered the bomb. No one comments on this, but all three men have now sung their backstories at some point in the show.

Hooper quietly starts to sing “Show Me the Way to Go Home.” The other two join in. Their singing is interrupted by the shark ramming into the ship.

The crew scramble back on deck. Quint, his mind still swimming in the memory of the Indianapolis, wildly fires a rifle at the shark, but he only succeeds in driving it away, Hooper goes belowdeck to assess the damage. The ship can still run, but it’s struggling. Brody loudly advocates returning to shore, but Quint refuses.

The shark returns, leading to the next song, “Barrels.” The song has a lot of dialogue and instrumental but also functions as a reprise of “Something Permanent,” as Quint gleefully proclaims his intent to leave “something permanent” on the shark. The crew manages to attach three barrels to the shark, but they lose track of it again.

Quint decides that since barrels and weapons don’t seem to be working, and the ship is only becoming more damaged, that the thing to do is lure the shark back to shore and drown it in the shallow water. Hooper warns Quint that he’s overtaxing the engine, but Quint only leans harder on the throttle. The engine gives out.

Brody goes to the radio to call the Coast Guard for help but is shocked when Quint smashes the radio with a baseball bat before the message can get out. This leads to an even angrier reprise of “City Hands,” now with Brody insulting Quint instead of Hooper, calling him “certifiable.” Quint shouts more than sings that he can handle it and he doesn’t need rescuing “this time.” The song shifts to the slower, gentler melody that was used when Brody calmed Hooper and Quint before as Quint tells Brody he vowed that would never be helpless in the water again. Both Brody and Hooper, who was heard the entire outburst, are struck silent.

“Beautiful (Reprise)” - Hooper somberly volunteers to be lowered into the anti-shark cage. Brody argues against it, but, for once, Quint is willing to hear Hooper out. Hooper sings about how putting himself in harm’s way is his only chance to the tune of his intro song, “Beautiful.” Hooper then admits that Quint is right, he hasn’t been through what Quint has, but he’s willing to try and prove his worth. Quint and Brody realize they don't have much choice and agree.

Hooper goes into the cage. Brody takes Hooper’s glasses, and Hooper gives them both one last look before he puts on his mask and goes under.

“In the Cage” - Instrumental. While below the water (which is just another part of the stage covered in blue spotlights), Hooper tries to attack the shark with the syringe on the end of a spear, but he drops it. The shark begins to break its way into the cage, but Hooper manages to escape and hides behind some rocks, apologizing to the men above for failing.

Quint and Brody, of course, can’t hear him, nor can they see what’s happening below. Quint and Brody pull up the cage to find it mangled and empty. Brody is devastated, thinking that Hooper is dead, but Quint seems to be truly unraveling. He sings a shaky reprise of “Those Eyes,” this time obsessing over the look Hooper gave them before he went under. He frantically recalls that he saw the same look on the faces of his crew mates after the sinking of the Indianapolis. Tragically, the song also functions as a callback to “My Boy Is Dead.” (”It’s far too late for me now to take back the things I’ve said. / They’ll haunt me ‘til my dying day. / Because that boy is dead.”)

“Quint’s End” - Instrumental, spoken dialogue. Quint can’t get the last image of Hooper out of his mind and begs him to stop looking at him like that. Brody is alarmed as Quint’s pleas to Hooper change to pleas to his dead crew mate, Herbie Robinson. Quint has slid into a full-blown PTSD flashback. In his mind, he’s back in the waters of the Pacific thirty years ago, surrounded by sharks and dead crew mates. Brody tries to calm Quint down by reminding him where he is, but at that moment, the shark leaps onto the stern, and the Orca lists backwards. (In my head, the Orca set is on some kind of platform that can be raised at an incline.) Both men begin to slide toward the waiting jaws of the shark. Brody manages to grab onto the door frame leading into the cabin. He tries to hold onto Quint, but Quint slips out of his hand. Quint tries to fight back against the shark, but with a sickening crunch, Quint falls silent. The shark retreats with Quint’s lifeless body.

“Smile!” - Payback time. The Orca is sinking fast, and Brody knows that if he ends up in the water, it’s game over. Brody manages to ward the shark off with one of Hooper’s scuba tanks. The shark takes the scuba tank into its mouth, giving Brody the chance to climb onto the mast with Quint’s rifle. The music ramps up in speed and intensity as the shark closes in. Brody’s singing ramps up to match as he fires at the shark again and again, reminding himself of his promise to protect others and vowing that this shark will never kill anyone again. Then, with a final, bombastic, “So, smile you son of a bitch!” he gets a hit on the tank, and the shark explodes. He whoops and hollers as the music swells.

The finale instrumental is both sad and sweet. The sinking mast deposits Brody in the water. Hooper surfaces besides him. They laugh together, relieved that it’s over. Hooper asks about Quint, but Brody only responds with the single word, “No.” Hooper and Brody are close enough to paddle back to shore, so they do just that. As they set off, Brody begins to sing, “Show Me the Way to Go Home.” Hooper joins in. The curtain falls.

#jaws #the musical #i spent way too much time on this #steven spielberg #martin brody #matt hooper #quint #ellen brody #mayor larry vaughn #fan fic #what if #long post

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sashi-ya · 3 years

Note

interested to know what you're thoughts are on how law's character arc will end in op? his alliance with luffy, his ability to obtain the one piece, anything really.

i'm convinced he's going to die. idk why, and i really feel like it'll have something to do with the eternal life surgery. hopefully i'm wrong! but as resident law lover, i want your opinion!

Hi babe!! thank u for asking! It is a liiiilte bit (a lot) long so I hope you don't mind ♥

Well, first in first I HOPE HE DOESN’T DIE because Idk if I can handle losing him. That being said, let me tell you what I think…

As much as Law tries to hide it, Law is Luffy’s friend. So no need to have an alliance anymore. He has found in Luffy someone who wants the same as him. Law is not interested in the One Piece treasure at all. His true motivations are a little different from being the “pirate king”. Let me tell you why….

Spoilers from “One Piece Novel: Law” (canon) and Manga under the cut. -And a LONG theory -

The novel tells us about what happened after Cora’s death, how Law managed to cure himself and how he ended up meeting Mr. Wolff, Bepo, Shachi and Penguin. In the novel it is stated that Law didn’t really care about being a pirate, but his true reasons to set sail were no other than taking down Doflamingo (What Law believed was Cora’s purpose). So, in order to fulfil Cora’s will he spent two years training not only his df powers but also as a surgeon working at a local hospital. Bepo, Shachi and Pen did the same, of course. So, to be honest, I don’t think Law's first purpose was in no way to become the Pirate King.

After the battle of Dressrosa, once Doffy was defeated and Law spoke to ex admiral Sengoku, he understood that;

First, as we all know, Cora’s love was beyond any type of revenge or plan against Doffy.

And then, the unknown meaning of the D. That meaning he was probably not really interested in until he saw how Doffy reacted knowing he was a D. And of course I’m sure he asked himself a lot about why Luffy has the same secret name? Is he supposed to do something similar to Mugiwara-ya? What does that D hide?.

Then, in Wano… he states his intentions to know about the meaning of the D clearly on ch. 995 of the manga. He even asks Robin if she knows about it.

But, let’s discuss something else here. His relationship with Smoker, X-Drake and Koby. (And ofc his step grandad Sengoku)

So, as you may know before the alliance with Luffy, Law was a Shichibukai right?

So, what happened in the two years of time skip for him to become a warlord? Most of the people accepted the quick explanation that this little emo doctor one day appeared at Marineford with a box of 100 PIRATE hearts and so the marine said “Oh amazing, let’s make him an ouka shichibukai”. Weird, right? Specially when it comes to One Piece. And mainly because how the fuck did they check if those hearts were from pirates? And what does that even mean? Did Law want to show the Marine how strong he was? or...

In the same chapter Law is presented as “Trafalgar D. Water Law, Surgeon of Death & Mastermind of the Rocky Port incident”. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? WHAT HAPPENED THERE?

So, the only information we have about it till now (+10 years) is that it also involves Koby. Koby was decorated as Hero and Captain of the Marine after that because he “saved many civilians' lives”. So, we could say that if Law was the one who planned the incident and Koby fought in it at least they have met each other -at least once-.

And of course we all think Law was probably the bad guy, right? But, there are NO proofs of it whatsoever. What if Law AND Koby worked together against the 100 pirates Law left heartless? What if Law is not a real pirate, but perhaps has something to do with the Marine? Maybe the idea of creating this incident was to show fake information to the Marine. One possibility is that they wanted to show Law as a rival to hide his connections with some marines (Koby, X-Drake, Smoker) or maybe just the opposite, like "hey, this guy helps the marine" let's give him the Shichibukai title.

And by this I’m not really saying Law is a Marine. I don’t really think so. But, maybe he has something to do with the S.W.O.R.D. project where Koby, X- Drake, probably Smoker and Tashigi and Kuzan are involved.

From here I think it is important for me to clarify that -in my opinion- there are two sides of the Marine. The “bad guys” who let’s say are represented by Akainu; people who use the word “justice” WRONGLY. Those who work in the Marine just to protect nobles and tenryuubitos. And then the "good guys" those represented by Smoker, Cora, Bellemere, Koby, Garp, X-Drake, Ishoo who fight for TRUE JUSTICE. Even though if that depended on fighting with and not against some pirates.

A good example and I think Oda wanted to show this as a foreshadow of the future big war was these specific moment at Punk Hazard

Marines + SWORD + Pirates together against people sent by Doffy (a former Celestial Dragon). Or even during Dressrosa!

Aaaand what about Law’s relationship with Smoker? Remember how Law saved Smoker ass during his fight against Vergo? Remember how Law told Smoker about Green bit? Why the fuck would Law tell a marine about his plans? There is some info missing here that I hope Oda will enlighten us with it sooner.

Another of the many reasons Law might be involved in the SWORD project is his relationship with X-Drake. Back to Dressrosa arc, specifically during Cora’s flashback, X-Drake literally saved Law’s life indirectly. How? Well… the Ope Ope no mi was stolen by Cora from X-Drake's father. Little Drake was there too.

When Doffy heard the Marine radio stating they had found a child he thought it was Law and so they escaped. But in reality, the child was no other than X-Drake. Drake was adopted by Sengoku, just as he did with Cora and became a Marine. Drake and Smoker TRAINED together.

And then again, up until the current arc, with the help of Drake I think Law was able to escape Wano prison and attacked Hawkins.

And why would Drake help Law to escape if after all his dad was killed because of the events that involved little Law?... well, maybe because they are more than fellow supernovas… and what's Drake? A marine from Sword like Koby.

(Not to mention how Drake got even with Law because of his past by hitting the shit out of him during the “acting” at Wano prison in from of Hawkins).

So… to not make this text endless (even though I have many other reasons to believe Law is not a pirate at all) I'm sure Law FIGHTS for TRUE JUSTICE (besides him wanting to know about the will of D) for many reasons; 1. To avenge his family deaths, 2. To end up with the endless night the WG has brought into the world… after all he is a D, right?

But if you ask me about what's gonna happen with Luffy? I don't think he will get mad when he learns the truth about his precious Torao. After all Luffy is used to fight with the good marines against injustice! He even accepted X Drake to join them during Wano raid (Ch.990)

About his possible death, I really hope he doesn’t die, but to be honest, Oda has the power to decide it so… let’s pray this won't happen. And as he said many times “the moment someone makes a theory that’s true I will change it”.

So I could make this theory ENDLESS but for the sake of your sanity I won't go any further hahaha.

Thank u for asking, darling! ♥

#one piece spoilers #one piece theory #law theory #s.w.o.r.d.#x drake #one piece koby #smoker #trafalgar law

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years

Note

A very happy birthday month to you! I’m a fan of your Stony fics. If you’re still taking prompts, could you do one with a Las Vegas backdrop? Maybe Steve’s first time there with Tony for some reason? I was supposed to have my first trip there ever but Covid cancelled it. Maybe at least they can have a happy ending there. 🙂

Thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying the Stony fics!

So sorry your Las Vegas trip was cancelled, that’s really awful. I sort of went to Vegas once (it was a layover in the airport). The only thing I remember about the whole thing was the 5 bajillion slot machines in the airport terminals

Since I know so little about Vegas, I ended up going with the getting married in Vegas trope instead of something about the casinos. I also hope you don’t mind that I used this for my bingo square, but I saw the happy ending part in your ask and got inspired for my happily ever after square (details below the cut)

Here’s to Las Vegas

The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him.

Most days, Steve wakes up the second his alarm goes off, alert and ready for his run. This day, however, he drifts into wakefulness slowly, comfortably lying on his back. He’s warm and there’s a heavy weight on his stomach and chest, pressing him down into sheets that feel so much nicer on his bare skin than the ones he has at home. That’s the second thing he notices: he’s not wearing any clothes, not even the boxer-briefs he normally wears in lieu of pajamas. And the third thing he notices is that there’s something soft tickling his chin.

He slowly blinks his eyes open. He’s somewhere with high vaulted ceilings and an expensive-looking chandelier, which means it’s not Tony’s place (he thinks chandeliers are tacky) and it’s definitely not Steve’s (he can’t afford a chandelier). Whatever it is on his chest shifts and Steve looks down. Tony is draped across him, the top of his head tucked under Steve’s chin, their arms and legs tangled together. He’s breathing deep and even, still asleep even though sunlight is pouring through the window.

Steve smiles at the sight and raises his head enough to kiss Tony’s curls. He doesn’t often get to wake up with Tony. Steve lives in Brooklyn and Tony lives in Manhattan and they’re both so busy—Tony with SI’s R&D and Steve with his teaching—that they decided early on in their relationship that spending every single night together was a bad idea because one of them would always end up late to work. So this makes for a nice change.

Tony stirs, inhaling deeply. Steve brings his hand up to stroke over Tony’s hair, the way he likes it when they both have a rare day when neither of them have to be anywhere so they can spend the night. That’s when he sees it.

The ring.

The one that’s sitting on the ring finger of his left hand, exactly where it should be—except he’s not supposed to be wearing it for another week.

In the sleepy haze of waking up, he’d forgotten what they’d done last night but the memories are filtering in. Flashes of Tony excitedly talking him into finding a chapel and wrangling a couple witnesses from off the street and filing the marriage license a whole week early because both of them were more than tired of the wedding planning, the swell of emotions he’d felt at hearing Tony declared his husband and sweeping Tony off his feet and back to their hotel, kissing the whole way and probably scandalizing their Uber driver.

He groans and tips his head back against the pillows. Tony makes a low sound and yawns widely before slowly opening his eyes. He looks a little like an adorable kitten and Steve can’t resist kissing the top of his head again.

“Wuzzgoinon?” Tony mumbles sleepily.

“What’s going on,” Steve says, “is that your mother is going to kill us. No, she’s going to kill me, because you’re her darling angel who can do no wrong and she’s never once thought I’m good enough for you.”

“No, you’re better,” Tony says around another yawn. “Why is my mama going to kill you?”

Steve picks up Tony’s left hand and waves it in front of his face. Tony goes cross-eyed trying to make out what’s different about his hand. “Oh,” he says eventually and lays his head back down on Steve’s chest.

“Oh?” Steve asks. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“If Mama didn’t want us to elope, she shouldn’t have sent us to Vegas by ourselves to pick up the rings,” Tony says, as though he’s pointing out something reasonable, even though this is the most absurd thing that’s ever happened in Steve’s entire life—and his best friends are Bucky and Sam. Those two are the very definition of absurd. “Everyone knows what happens in Vegas.”

“This is your fault,” Steve informs him. “If you hadn’t insisted on this particular jeweler—”

“Hmm maybe I was planning this,” Tony hums, closing his eyes again.

And that’s… that’s actually entirely possible. Ever since they got engaged, Tony has been complaining about the big white wedding Mrs. Stark wants them to have and threatening to steal Steve away to the courthouse to elope. Steve had thought he’d calmed down about the whole affair after Mrs. Stark’s tearful outburst about her just wanting her baby to have the perfect wedding (Tony is nothing if not his mama’s boy), but maybe he’d been planning on this instead. He had thought it odd when Tony had insisted on a small-name jeweler in Las Vegas who wouldn’t ship to New York, thereby forcing them to travel to pick up the rings, but if Tony had been planning this all along…

“Did you?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Tony stares up at him for a long moment, blinking. Then he dryly says, “Yes, Steve. I, who has never made a decision that wasn’t impulsive even once in my entire life, somehow managed to both plan out a trip to Vegas to get married and keep it a secret from the love of my life who knows everything I’m thinking before even I know it.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Steve says, grinning at him. What they’ve just done hits him and he laughs giddily. He sits up, pulling Tony up with him to give him a closed-mouthed good morning kiss. “We’re married.”

Tony smiles happily and kisses him again. “Yeah, we are. Good morning, Mr. Stark-Rogers.”

He likes the sound of that. He really likes the sound of that. Another kiss. “What are we going to tell everyone?” he asks.

“Hmm. How about we got so caught up in the thrill of picking up the rings that we abandoned all reason and got married here? It’s not like the big white wedding my mama wants even really matters in the grand scheme of things. It’s the marriage license that counts.”

“She’s still going to want it.”

“Undoubtedly. And we’ll give it to her. But this is nice, isn’t it?” Tony peers up at him anxiously. “No fuss, no caterers with ten different meal plans for all the restrictions, no Great-Auntie Mildred who shouts for the minister to speak louder. No stress at all.”

Steve leans back against the headboard, thinking about it. Tony’s right. They dealt with a lot less stress by getting married this way. But it isn’t just Great-Auntie Mildred that they left behind, it’s their friends too. It’s hard to know how he feels about that.

But then he starts thinking about the wedding picture the photographer had handed them before they left the chapel last night. Steve had tucked it into his wallet for safekeeping, and he reaches over to the bedside table to grab it, pulling the photo out so he can look at it. It’s a picture of their kiss. They’re holding onto each other so tight he’s not sure a piece of paper would fit between them, smiling so broadly that it’s barely a kiss at all. And he thinks about the engagement pictures Mrs. Stark had sent out in the announcement and wedding invitations: poised and perfect and not a smile to be seen anywhere.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, pulling Tony against his chest. Tony snuggles in, warm and beautiful and all Steve’s. “This was pretty damn perfect.”

Tony sighs contentedly and presses a kiss right over Steve’s heart. “Good.”

“But your mother’s still going to kill me.”

“We just won’t tell her,” Tony replies dismissively. “We’ll get married again and we won’t have to worry about the wedding because we’ll know we’re already married.”

“She’s going to notice the rings.”

“Not if we spend the whole week here.”

Steve stills. He hadn’t thought of that. It would solve a lot of problems, not least that Mrs. Stark would finally have free reign to do whatever she wanted with the wedding without any input from either of them. She was doing anyway, but at least now, they don’t have to hear about how their small family affair has turned into the society event of the year.

Tony continues in a wheedling voice, “Call out all our friends, treat it like an extended bachelor party—or our first honeymoon, take your pick.”

Steve stops him right there with another kiss, lingering this time. “And what are we going to do on our first honeymoon?”

“Blow all our money on slot machines. Count cards at the poker table. Go see some really truly ridiculous shows,” Tony says with a shrug. “What everyone does when they’re in Vegas.”

“Hmm somehow I don’t think counting cards is what everyone does.”

“I suppose everyone didn’t grow up with Ana Jarvis,” Tony muses. Steve laughs because it’s true. Howard might think that Tony is a troublemaker all on his own, but everyone knows that Tony learned it from the best.

He’s distracted out of his thoughts by Tony picking up his hand and gently kissing his wedding ring. “It’s the first day of the rest of our lives, darling,” Tony murmurs. “We can do whatever we want.”

Details for @tonystarkbingo

Title of Fill: Here's to Las Vegas Collaborator: iam93percentstardust Card Number: 4012 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676711 Square Filled: A3 - Free Square Ship/Main Pairing: Stevetony Rating: T Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Established Relationship, Fluff, Marriage Summary: The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him. Word Count: 1558

#alle writes #alle answers #stevetony #if you like please consider reblogging #mistyendings #tsbmiv

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deniigi · 3 years

Note

A fic from Boba’s POV as a babysitter seeing Din’s family dynamics isn’t self indulgent it’s indulgent to your readers - fuck, that sounds like the best, most hilarious thing ever?!? (With peppered in bits of Boba’s identity crisis/diaspora feels)

I say you release babysitter boba fic ;) It sounds hilarious

Ask and you shall receive, anons. Beware. It’s like 11k of world building lol.

(I will post here and not on Ao3 because I’m not ready for that level of commitment rn lol)

Title: in the plains of Zeffo

Summary:

“I don’t like him,” Karren told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

(Din’s original finder’s old crush on the Armorer is rekindled after he helps her reunite with Din. He tries to win her favor, but keeps getting tripped up by Din who knows she’s not interested. Boba Fett’s POV.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------

There was little more entertaining than watching Djarin snap.

Boba ten years ago would have spat at the very idea that such meagre fare would suit his humor, but he was getting old, man. You had to take what you could get, and Djarin’s bared rage was a sight to behold.

Currently, he was locked in combat with Urro Bojzka. The Urro Bojzka. The one who even Boba had heard of, growing up on Kamino.

Dad had had some pointed feelings about Mr. Bojzka. Mainly, they revolved around how it was unfair that everyone called him an opportunistic traitor when Bojzka continued to exist and thrive in the universe at large, but Dad also had more specific feelings about Bojzka that bordered on jealousy.

Urro Bojzka was said to be the ideal Mandalorian man.

He was big. He was strong. He sounded like he’d smoked six different kinds of spice for forty years, and nothing and no one could take him down.

The cherry on top was that he was notorious for rescuing kids. The man had snatched nearly two hundred up out of smoking ruins and battlefields. A good twenty or thirty had become foundlings and then Mandalorians themselves, and counted among their number now, to Bo-Katan’s absolute glee, was their sweet, precious Din Djarin.

They should have known. Din was the epitome of Mandalorian; it figured that Urro Bojzka himself would have picked him up as a child.

Din however, had little appreciation for this fact beyond that which was only polite. He made it very clear that he’d already thanked Bojzka for taking him out of his childhood hellhole. He’d done that bare minimum and so no one could ask anything more of him.

Bojzka had other plans.

It turned out that Urro Bojzka had a thing for Din’s covert’s Armorer. God, did he have a thing. And not only did he have a thing, but he’d had it for decades.

Apparently, a thousand years ago, when Boba and Din and all the others around them had still been rolling around on dirt floors trying to eat beetles and shit, Bojzka had attempted to court Din’s Armorer. He’d gone as far and wide as a young Mando could. He’d tried flowers, perfume, credits, displays of strength and courage. He’d tried gifts of food and offers of travel. He’d even stooped so low as to read a book.

None of it had gone well for him. And that was probably because Din’s Armorer had recently proven herself to be no less than one of the heiresses of the Katzkai clan.

The Renda Bears. Those people were hard-fucking-core.

When Bo-Katan found out that Din’s ‘Goran’ was, in fact, Nomri Katzkai, the second daughter of Lanlee Katzai and the official apprentice of Fii Katzkai, the imperial Armorer himself, she threw up her hands and declared all endeavors hopeless now.

Din was one of them; he just didn’t know it. And his buir, who had removed herself from her family to be even more hardcore than anyone would have thought possible, didn’t seem overly excited to start explaining shit to him anytime soon.

So here they were. With Din about to kill one of the most famous war heroes in recent Mandalorian history over a crush that wouldn’t quit.

Bojzka smiled at him with dark eyes with scars through both of his eyebrows.

“Just a message,” he lobbied. “One letter.”

Boba would’ve fucked him. Yeah, why not? Just look at him.

“She’s busy,” Din said. “You’ll have to submit it to Eegang Quodo. That’s E-e-g-a—”

“Yeah, see. Here’s the thing, kid. This letter’s gonna be kinda personal, if you catch my drift—”

“Q-u-o—”

“—probably not great for the eyes of anyone who ain’t, you know, in on this whole relationship—”

“—d-o. He’s usually busy, too. So you probably should submit it to Paz, instead. He’ll lose it for you forever. That’s P-a-z—”

Fennec hid a razor-sharp grin behind a clenched fist. She flashed it at Boba.

‘I love him’ she mouthed, pointing at Din’s hiked-up shoulders. Even his cape seemed to have gone stiff in Bojzka’s presence.

“Din, honey. Listen to me,” Bojzka crooned. “I know you’re protective of your mama, but—”

“She’s not my mother. Don’t you fucking dare call her that, you hulking piece of—”

“Ah-ah-ah. You’re not listening. Come on. Chin up. Ears open.”

Bojzka tapped at the bottom of Din’s helmet like a CO with a teenage recruit, and Fennec just about screamed when Din went completely still and silent.

Bo-Katan met Boba’s gaze out of the corner of her eye. She mimed a syringe. Boba shook his head. If this fucker got bit, he deserved whatever infection it brought.

“Atta boy,” Bojzka said to Din’s rigid silence. “Here’s how it is: your mama and me go way, way back. And you know, after your touching reunion the other week, she even went and had a drink with me, and we got to talkin’ and started to reconnect, the old folks do. And I could read her body language, Din-Din. She wants a man. And that man’s me. So instead of actin’ like a child over all this, why don’t we—”

“She wanted Naseem,” Din snapped. “But Naseem died. Twenty years ago, he died. You just wear similar boots.”

Get ‘im, Djarin. Get ‘im.

“I—who?” Bojzka snapped.

“Naseem,” Din repeated like he was an idiot. “Traditional, bantha-sized, green armor. He worked all the time to keep all the kids in the covert fed.”

Bojzka processed this.

“Naseem what?” he asked stiffly.

“He’s dead,” Din said. “And Hajka left. So no. Goran needs neither a man or a woman, and especially not you. What she needs is a break and for Karren to stop fighting people on sight.”

Bojzka backtracked like a champ.

“Karren, that’s her youngest, right?” he asked. “Well, I bet Karren could use some sisters. I bet he’s lonely over there on, uh.”

“Zeffo,” Din gritted out. “And no. He’s not. He has three sisters. One of which is still at the covert, terrorizing him left and right.”

Even Bo-Katan could only empathize so much with Bojzka, war hero or nah.

“Why’re you all up in arms, Din? What’d I do to you?” Bojzka finally asked. “Don’t you want your buir to be happy?”

Din’s shoulders finally came down from his helmet.

“Of course, I do,” he said. “Which is why if you set so much as a toe on Zeffo, I’m taking both of your knees with me to Yavin.”

Any parent would have been proud to have Din as their child. He took family honor to a level that even the Katzkai clan would have had a hard time sniffing at.

He had to have learned this from the wayward heiress. Although, if Boba was honest, he didn’t really think that the wayward heiress was all that wayward.

She’d come to visit Din on Tatooine. She was short and stocky and not terribly interested in the court or anyone outside of Din.

She wasn’t nearly as hostile as Bo-Katan expected either. She didn’t appear to love anything that she was looking at, no, but Din had explained that that was mostly because she wasn’t really a fan of him having become Mand’alor to start with.

When she came to visit, anyways, she was far more interested in getting a good fuss in to give herself peace of mind that Din was okay. That way she could then go back to dealing with the apparently endless series of crises at the new covert.

She was a great parent in that way. She even brought along her youngest, so that he could see his big brother.

That kid was fuckin’ adorable. Maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Barely, barely, barely in armor. He was strapped into his leathers so tight, he looked like he was stuffed with straw.

He had medium-brown skin with yellow undertones and huge, nearly-black eyes. Coarse black hair poured into his face and curled around his ears—and if he thought he was going to stuff all that in a helmet one day, he had another thing coming.

He bopped after his buir when they entered the palace and stopped occasionally to stare up in awe at the palace’s high ceilings. Upon realizing that he’d lost his escort, he scampered along to catch up and did the whole thing again and again until buir had enough and snatched his hand.

He didn’t like that. He was fourteen-fifteen years old. He was too big for hand-holding, buir.

Never too old to be ignored, though.

“Goraaaaaan.”

“Hush,” the Armorer told him. “Keep up.”

He was handed off to Boba outside Din’s personal quarters, mostly because he was making such a fuss at the Armorer that she began contemplating leaving him at the palace forever. Din intervened and the kid latched onto him instead until Din convinced him that he’d be available talk just as soon as he and their buir were done speaking.

The kid’s name was Karren.

He and Boba were now best friends.

“—so Goran said, ‘I’m not having that idiot in my rooms.’ But then Eegang said, ‘we already have Paz in these rooms,’ and you’re not supposed to laugh, Mr. Fett, but we all did because we’re all stupid. So we had to do like, a thousand chores for eavesdropping.”

“So she’s not into him, then?” Fennec clarified. “He’s really into her, you know.”

“Of course, I know,” Karren lamented. “But Goran’s picky and the last person she was all close with was Hajka and we’re not allowed to talk about her anymore or Din’ll make you do two hundred push-ups while he watches.”

Amazing. Say more about Din’s oldest-child syndrome, little one.

“No, I like Din,” Karren sighed. “Now that Digo’s gone, he’s even nicer.”

Oh?

“What happened to Digo?” Boba asked as Bo-Katan joined them in curiosity.

“Digo’s a jerk is what happened,” Karren huffed. “She wanted Goran to give over the forge and join the elders, but Goran isn’t even that old. So when she said ‘no,’ Digo got mad and said that the only foundling Goran respects is Din. Which is bullshit because everyone knows that Goran has always been the nicest with Digo and Nasif—she made all sorts of excuses for them, Mr. Fett, like when they went out and got caught stealing parts like Jawas, she did four whole hunts to raise their bail. When Din gets in trouble, he takes care of it himself. He doesn’t ask Goran to do that kind of thing. And me and Shimmol just don’t get in that kind of trouble to start with—but no. Digo had to be all ‘if you don’t treat us as equals, then we’re gonna leave and start our own forge.’”

“No kidding,” Fennec said. “So they left?”

“Yeah, both of them ‘cause Nasif does anything Digo tells her to,” Karren said, kicking his feet. “And good riddance.”

Too many sisters, this one had. Boba felt for him.

“So Goran’s still recovering from that betrayal, I take it?” he asked.

Karren frowned and chewed a lip.

“I dunno,” he admitted. “No one tells me anything. I think that Goran’s been more worried about Din than them after all that happened. We thought he got crunched by the jedi—or at least I thought he got crunched. Paz says that Jedis compact Mandalorians into cubes of armor and Din’s got the best armor.”

Do not laugh at the child. Do not laugh at the child.

“I don’t think Jedis crunch Mandalorians,” Bo-Katan said generously, having snuck into the bare antechamber while everyone was distracted with the kid’s story.

“Well, I do,” Karren countered, with zero conception of who he was talking to.

Fennec beamed.

“Do you like this Urro guy?” she asked.

“No,” Karren answered immediately. “He’s sent Eegang four messages and they’re all gross.”

Yep.

It was gonna be a late puberty for this one.

“What makes them gross?” Bo-Katan asked.

“The mush,” Karren said expertly. “Bojzka calls Goran ‘Nomri.’ That’s a bad word at home. No one says that word. Goran is ‘Goran.’ The only people who call her anything else are the elders.”

“And you and your siblings, no?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karran cocked his head at her.

“Yeah, and ‘buir’ I guess, if we aren’t in trouble,” he said.

Bless him.

“Are you in trouble a lot?” Bo-Katan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. I got a temper or something.”

“Is Din in trouble?”

“With buir? No, not like me and Shimmol. He’s too old to be in that kind of trouble. His trouble’s like ‘help, I fell a hundred feet off a cliff’ kind of trouble. He gives Goran indigestion, but she can’t make him reflect on falling a million feet out of a ship—Eegang says that’s called ‘rehashing trauma.’”

The covert on Zeffo sounded like it was holding itself together through sheer force of will and that alone.

Where did Boba sign up? It sounded like a fantastic experiment to pass the time.

“Are you a foundling, Karren?” Boba asked.

The kid lit up.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been with Goran for five years now. Six in a few months. My dad’s a piece of shit. He killed my mom, and Goran got him arrested for that and for what he did to my auntie.”

Well, fuck. That explained a lot.

“And you like it there—on Zeffo?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karren shrugged.

“It’s cold and wet,” he said. “I liked Nevarro better. Din was home more on Nevarro.”

Awww.

“Aren’t you proud of Din for becoming Mand’alor?” Bo-Katan asked as gently as she could manage.

Karren’s frown eased up finally.

“No,” he said. “Din should just come home. He doesn’t need to be Mand’alor or married to some jedi. He should just come home. It’s stupid; his foundling should have stayed with us from the start. We always have room for more foundlings. I dunno why he had to leave with his foundling at all.”

Bo-Katan sat back and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “If it helps, I think he just wants to come home, too.”

“So let him,” Karren blurted out to her.

Tough tits, kid. That wasn’t how it worked.

“I think we should perhaps focus on one thing at a time,” Bo-Katan said. “What do you think, Fett?”

What did Boba think?

Boba thought that he had a great idea to distract this kid from missing his big brother.

---

Karren was perhaps a little too small still to reach the brakes in the crawler, but you know what? So was Fennec sometimes and she did just fine.

“Gas,” Boba said, pointing. “Neutral. Brake. Park.”

“Gas, neutral, brake, park,” Karren repeated to him with his hands on the wheel and his knobbly wrists peeking out from the gap between his gloves and his leather braces.

Bo-Katan had refused to be present or responsible for this. Fennec had told them to wait while she went and took a shot first. ‘For safety’ she said.

“What’s neutral for?”

“You’re about to tell me,” Boba said, adjusting the rear view mirrors down to kid-height.

The sound of Fennec throwing herself onto the back of the crawler rattled through to their compartment.

“That’s our signal,” Boba said. “You ready to jam?”

“Jam?” Karren asked him.

Hm.

Punch it?

“Punch what?”

The fuck kind of slang did they use at the covert?

“Rock?”

“OH. Yeah, I’m ready.”

There we go. Onward march then.

---

An hour later, Din sighed with Karren whining under his arm.

“There is a reason he’s not trained yet, Fett,” Din said as Karren started chomping on the bunched-up flightsuit in his elbow.

The Armorer pressed both palms into the forehead of her helmet.

The crawler had perhaps seen better days. But it had also seen worse days, and Fennec was still going through little loops of cackling at the memory of having to chase after its open tailgate. Boba didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. The kid had done amazingly well for his first time at the wheel.

“I’m leaving all of you,” Karren grated out, trying miserably to escape Din’s elbow-prison. “I want to be Mr. Fett’s foundling.”

Bless him.

“You don’t,” Din told him forcefully. “Fett can’t handle a foundling.”

Ay, Boba would drink to that. He was happy to be a foundling-sitter and borrower, though.

“Buir,” Karren pleaded.

“You make me tired, child,” the Armorer told him. “Say goodbye to vod.”

“NO.”

Din sighed. The Armorer sighed. Karren, in a beautiful 180, latched onto Din’s ribs again.

“Come hooooooome,” he pleaded with Din.

“I caaaaaaan’t,” Din drawled back at him in a delightfully uncharacteristic tone.

“These people don’t need you. We need you. Shimmol took your bed and if you don’t take it back, she’s gonna keep it.”

Din’s shoulders dropped.

“I told Shimmol that she could take my bunk, Karren,” he said. “I’m not using it—”

“BUT YOU COULD BE.”

Boba took it back. He could take on a foundling. Fuck it, why not? This one was great.

“Come here,” Din said, dragging the kid up to his toes. He knocked the front of his helmet against Karren’s forehead with enough force that the bump was noticeable. That made the kid shut up and stand up straight on his own volition again.

“Soon,” Din told him forcefully. “Behave for buir.”

“Promise,” Karren demanded.

“Ehn.”

“Din, promise.”

“I dunno, kid. I’ve got a husband and all these damn kids to worry about.”

“Bring them. All of them.”

“No room,” Din said without missing a beat. “You have no idea how much space the husband needs to thrive.”

“Well, if you don’t come, then Urro’s gonna try to move in,” Karren snapped.

Din actually paused at that. The Armorer shook her helmet.

“Territorialism becomes neither of you,” she said. “If Urro wishes to join our covert, then we will treat him as we treat any other who wishes to.”

Din’s helmet seemed to squint at her. Karren glared outright.

“I don’t like him,” he told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

“Carry on with your work and give my best to the jedi and the child,” the Armorer said with an air of dismissal. “Come, Karren. Thank you three for looking after him. Apologies for the vehicle. Come.”

Boba missed that kid already.

--------

Bojzka, Boba had to say, really had no shame and he could almost appreciate that. Either that, or Din’s buir was a catch that the rest of them were failing to appreciate.

“How bad can it be?” the guy mused at Din’s stiff, furious hands mere days after the Armorer and Karren’s departure. “It’s a helmet, right? You can take it off with the people who matter, no?”

“We do not take it off,” Din said from between clenched teeth.

“Right, I got that. But there are exceptions for kids and spouses,” Bojzka said. “Or did I misread that part?”

Din was going to start shaking at any minute now. Bo-Katan assigned Boba the task of making sure he didn’t commit War-hero-homicide while she went off to find a calming device. It was only polite. It wasn’t Bojzka’s fault after all that he’d come in right after a tense meeting with a dissident group from Mandalore itself that made even Bo-Katan’s jaw jump.

“I think the rule is more important than the exceptions here,” Boba pointed out on Din’s behalf. “Joining the Children of the Watch isn’t something to take lightly.”

Din pointed at him wordlessly. Bojzka lazily followed the finger and then pointedly ignored Boba.

“What I’m hearing is that if we marry first, nothing changes,” he said.

Din’s index finger curled in with the rest of his knuckles until it was a fist.

“She is not looking to marry,” he said.

“What, so you speak for her now?”

“She is not looking to marry.”

“I can repeat things, too. Wanna see? You don’t speak for Nomri, Din.”

Boba was getting the feeling that Ms. Katzkai sort of did let Din speak for her in these types of situations. He was, after all, her oldest. And it sounded like he was the most loyal of her foundlings, too. If she shared anything personal with anyone besides her second in command, then it was going to be Din. That was just how these things worked.

“Did you call Eegang?” Din asked.

“I did,” Bojzka said. “He’s not especially helpful, I have to say. He keeps sending my missives back to me with grammar corrections.”

No. No. Keep it in, Boba. Keep it stoic.

“Eegang is the second CO at the covert,” Din said. “If you won’t take my word for it, then you’ll take his.”

Bojzka arched a fucked-up eyebrow.

“Eegang, the same guy who is allegedly secretly married to his partner? That Eegang?” he asked.

Din balked. Boba felt like electricity had just rocketed through him.

“Eegang is—” Din started.

“Nomri told me about him,” Bojzka said off-handedly. “She seems to think that he’s bitten off more than he can chew with taking on his last kid.”

“Eegang—”

“Something about baby being blind? Funny, did you not think that she trusted me enough to talk about her people?”

Any more of this and steam would start rising from the lip of Din’s helmet.

Thankfully, Bo-Katan returned with the jedi, AKA the calming device. Skywalker even came equipped with Grogu. They both appeared very confused and innocent, what with Skywalker drowning in his formal robes. They looked like they were going to absorb Grogu at any moment.

A+ distraction work, Kryze. Well done making yourself useful.

“Who’s Eegang?” Skywalker asked.

The line pulled taut across Din’s shoulders began to loosen.

“A comrade,” he said sharply in Bojzka’s direction.

“Is he nice?” Skywalker asked. Grogu chirped at him and resumed trying to dig into his multitude of collars.

“Very nice,” Din confirmed, staring deep into Bojzka’s eyes.

“He’s got foundlings, too?” Skywalker asked.

“Two,” Din confirmed. “Who he adores. Regardless of all challenges.”

Ah. It wasn’t just Eegang Din was protective of. It was the baby. Bojzka had really stuck his foot into that one.

“I’m sure the foundlings are fine,” Bojzka said. “It was just Nomri’s concern that—”

“Stop calling her that in my presence,” Din said. “In fact, let’s drop the whole thing now.”

--------

Boba wanted to meet secretly-married Eegang. He sounded like he had a rich interior life. Din gave him a strong look and said that if the Armorer had left the covert, Eegang would not. One of them had to be there at all times.

Bo-Katan asked what Eegang’s speciality was.

Surprise, surprise: it was diplomacy.

Kryze was now invested. She followed Din around on his heels and suggested that if the Armorer gave words to Eegang to deliver during a formal meeting with the Mand’alor, then Bojzka might finally get the picture that Katzkai wasn’t interested in him.

Din thought about that.

He asked if this was not just a ploy for Boba and Bo-Katan to rally his covert comrades against him.

And it honestly wasn’t until he phrased it like that.

-----------

Eegang was tall, sea-green, and in Bojzka’s face without so much as a by-your-leave.

“Three tests,” he threatened Bojzka with a baby on his hip. “One: stop sending transmissions. Two: get Elder Fayrz to approve your presence. Three: make even one of Goran’s foundlings like you. If you pass all three, your admission will be taken into consideration.”

The baby was very pink with curly hair so pale it was almost white. Its blue-gray eyes moved rapidly back and forth as it cuddled into its buir’s teal armor. Bojzka glanced from it to Eegang’s chipped helmet.

“Where did you find him?” he asked.

“Please give confirmation of your understanding,” Eegang said mechanically.

“He’s kinda cute.”

“Please give confirmation of your understanding.”

“Are you a droid or somethin’?”

“Please give—”

“Alright, alright. Fuck. This is confirmation of my understanding.”

“Excellent. This conversation is over,” Eegang said. “It is your responsibility to contact the elder and earn the approval.”

Bojzka jerked.

“Wait, what?” he said. “How am I supposed to do that if y’all won’t even let me through the door?”

Eegang’s helmet tipped so daintily to the side that Boba could have shed a tear.

“That sounds like a you-problem,” Eegang said.

-----------

Eegang thereafter blocked Bojzka out of his mind and heart. He introduced himself with a dipping motion to Kryze and Boba that probably would have been more dramatic if he’d opted to wear a cape, which he did not. He revealed himself to be exceedingly polite and very fond of Din, though—if the gentle armor tapping and the use of the word ‘little brother’ was anything to go by. Din was usually receptive to gestures like that, Boba had learned, but not this time.

No, no. Din cared not for his ‘big brother.’ He cared only for the attention of Eegang’s baby.

“His name is Mesa,” Eegang explained after Din had kidnapped said baby. He introduced Mesa to Grogu who was stationed nearby, stuffed in the sleepy jedi’s shirt this time. . Grogu waved from Skywalker’s chest, but Mesa didn’t register the motion.

“His grandmother was quite ill, and it was her dying wish to see the child placed into the care of someone trustworthy. I have to admit, though, I may have made the decision a little rashly,” Eegang hummed as he watched Grogu lean as far as he could out of Skywalker’s clothing to try to make contact with his fellow foundling.

“Is he your first?” Bo-Katan asked.

Eegang winced.

“No, uh. I’ve got another,” he said. “She’s a huge fan of certain someones.”

“Me,” Din said without hesitation.

“And Paz,” Eegang said. “Which is a deadly combination.”

“She will be a mighty warrior,” Din informed Mesa and Skywalker. Skywalker twitched awake and didn’t understand anything that was happening. He noticed the baby, cooed, and waved with his gloved hand.

“She’s declared this one goat her nemesis and I cannot—I cannot—get her to just leave it alone,” Eegang said.

“A goat clan in the making,” Din said with approval.

“I’m hearing unnecessary commentary,” Eegang said without looking at him. “Please rephrase or shut up.”

Din seemed to gloat at the scolding. Skywalker glanced between him and his tall, teal comrade. He made his move and carefully came in to extract baby Mesa from Din’s arms to add him to his ever-growing collection. Grogu cooed again, closer now. He offered Mesa a hand, and this time, Mesa perked up and tried to grab at it clumsily.

“You manage the covert in the Armorer’s absence?” Bo-Katan asked Eegang. “You must be very dedicated to the Children of the Watch.”

“Define ‘manage’ and then ‘dedicated,’” Eegang said. “I prefer ‘accidentally charged with responsibility one too many times’ and ‘in too deep to turn back now.’”

“He’s being humble,” Din said. “Eegang has brokered peace between our covert and locals on numerous occasions.”

Eegang’s shoulders started to raise.

“Stop telling people that, they’re going to expect things from me,” he said, then popped back up like flipped switch. “Oh, I totally forgot why I even came. Jedi?”

Skywalker looked up from the conference of baby talk happening in his arms all wide-eyed, as though he’d been caught in the act of stealing imperial property.

“We did not welcome you into our covert,” Eegang said, “You must allow us to present you with a gift of welcome and entry.”

Oho. Very formal. Boba folded his arms and watched Skywalker for his reaction.

“A what?” Skywalker asked.

-------

Bojzka was somewhat justifiably upset at the double standard going on here.

Skywalker was a jedi and yet welcomed into the covert with open arms and no admission requirements. He was, in fact, measured against his will for a set of armor. This was what Din’s buir had actually been after when she’d sent Eegang along to say hi.

Boba found that he enjoyed the reciprocation of ulterior motives that they were getting from Din’s covert. Kryze had never been happier. This was a game that she knew how to play.

“Wait no, hold up,” Bojzka interrupted. “I deserve a chance. Din, at least give me the name of one of your siblings so I can track them down with the elder.”

Din didn’t want to; there were foundlings happening and another meeting soon, but eventually even he had to give the guy something.

An honorable battle required at least two willing bodies.

-----------

Din and Karren’s remaining sibling at the covert’s name was Shimmol. According to Din, Bojzka had next to no chance of gaining her favor because she did not leave the forge and therefore Bojzka had no access to her. Eegang corrected Din and said that Shimmol did, in fact, leave the forge, but never on her own volition.

She was preferred the dark. She hated social interaction.

To circumvent that, the Armorer had refused to induct her into the trade until she proved herself able to coexist with others. But Shimmol was eighteen, that fun age where no incentive or punishment was effective and digging your heels in was far more preferable to doing a damn thing your elders mentioned.

She’s announced that very weekend that she was officially becoming a recluse. Her present aspiration in life was apparently now to become a forge spider.

Bojzka, along with everyone else, had no idea how to receive this information. Kyrze took it upon herself to pat Bojzka on the shoulder and tell him to start with the elder. He might actually have some luck that way.

-------

It took two weeks for Bojzka to re-emerge from whatever hellhole he’d had to walk a tightrope across to locate the covert’s elder Fayrz. He climbed in through Din’s personal quarters’ window and interrupted him and the Jedi in a moment of infrequent intimacy.

The sound of a body being throw over a bannister had a special kind of thud to it. Boba was up on out of his quarters in an instant.

Din flung Bojzka’s helmet after him. Skywalker had the grace to cover Djarin’s face with his shirt and walk him back into the room before anyone caught sight of it, telling Boba and Fennec, who had also emerged from her bed, prepared for drama, that all was fine. There was just a misunderstanding.

His bare torso was covered in scars. Boba found himself somehow surprised and impressed as the jedi unsuccessfully wrangled his furious husband back in the direction of bed.

He and Fennec peeked over the banister to see what had become of Bojzka. He was fine.

Fennec informed Boba that she was claiming part of his bed ‘in case anything else good happened’ since he was closer.

-----

In the morning, Din was in marginally better spirits. Skywalker was to be found at his side, walking backwards and tripping over his cloak every four paces. He truly knew how to hit all Din’s ‘endeared’ buttons. If not to the earnestness and the near-miss of a disaster on the stairs, it would have looked like manipulation.

Bojzka attempted to rectify the peace by breaking into the court through one of the windows high up on the wall outside the second floor’s conference room. This time, to ensure that he had Din’s full attention, he removed the jedi from the equation. Or he tried to anyways.

The jedi, in a split second, decided that, all joking aside, today, he would not be moved. His green saber managed to glow even in the sunlight pouring in to the hall.

“Do not touch,” he ordered, with both feet planted and Din and Grogu securely at his back.

Bojzka cocked his head at the saber pointed right at his nose.

“That’s a fun trick,” he said.

“Do not touch,” Skywalker repeated. “Me, him, or the child.”

“I’ll think about it,” Bojzka said. “Stand down before you regret it.”

“Luke,” Din said testily. “He’s not worth it.”

“Make me regret it,” Skywalker said to Bojzka.

Bojzka’s eyes widened slightly in interest. He used the back of his wrist to try to nudge the saber’s tip away and snapped his hand away from the burn.

“Do you expect me to be afraid of you, jedi?” he asked, trying to play it off.

Skywalker’s eyes reflected the light of his saber.

“Ask him what the glove’s for,” Fennec called from the far hall. Bojzka scoffed. Skywalker didn’t move.

“What happened to your hand?” Bojzka asked.

“My father cut it off,” Skywalker said. “But not to worry, I got a new one. Now step back. Sir.”

Bojzka didn’t move for a long time.

“Does it feel good to walk in the presence of these people?” he asked. “Is it a kink for you the way it was for your master?”

Boba had officially lost the plot. These were old politics now. Kryze would know what Bojzka was talking about, if only she deigned to come out from wherever she was hiding, which she wouldn’t. Of course.

“Does it offend you? My presence here?” Skywalker asked back without emotion.

“It doesn’t,” Bojzka said.

“I’m glad. That’s very convenient for me. I’d feel terrible if you bled out on these tiles,” Skywalker said. “So move.”

And goddamn. The mountain finally yielded to the sky.

-------

Skywalker spent the rest of the day on high alert, with one hand on the hilt of his saber and his full concentration tied up with making fierce eyes into the palace’s corners to keep Bojzka at bay. It was really something to see. Din looked about ready to lay his fingers on his heart and swoon, and that was more than fair. If Boba’s spouse threatened to kill a man for looking at him wrong, he’d be touched too.

Fennec told Boba that she’d protect him from a man the size of a bantha but no larger, and it just didn’t have the same kind of ring.

She apologized and he told her it was fine. It was just in the delivery--and also, he’d murder anyone so blinked at her wrong, too.

She was pleased. Boba was glad they were on the same page.

“Let’s go find Kryze to negotiate,” Fennec said, “I need to know why Old Faithful’s back.”

--------

Kryze’s commanding voice wrang out of Bojzka the real reason for his presence. The truth of the matter was that, War Hero aside, he was having a hell of a time getting the covert elder to grant him a second look.

Din told him that that was the point. Elder Fayrz was like that all day, every day and he’d change for no body, spiritual or physical. He bothered people when he wanted to bother them, and the rest of the time, he liked to pretend he was senile. He only really ever showed up if someone was buying a round or their life was in the balance.

Skywalker said that he sounded a lot like his late master.

Din agreed and said that Elder Fayrz had dedicated his life to two things: the covert children and fungi. Somehow, he made those two interests overlap. Din recalled being twelve and being taken out on a ‘mission’ by the old man who had informed him that he required his nose.

Elder Fayrz had no sense of smell. For a man with a fungi interest, he called this ‘very dangerous business indeed.’

Kryze demanded to know if all the weirdest Mandalorian elders still living had congregated at Din’s cohort which he quickly confirmed. Bojzka, however, demanded to know what would make this elder look him in the eye.

Din told him to go find a deathbed and lay on it.

He remembered belatedly to add ‘nearby Elder Fayrz’ to that statement.

----------

After about a month of this kind of back and forth, the Armorer decided that she’d had enough. She did not come to the Dune Sea. She sent a missive to Din informing him that he was coming home.

‘To talk,’ she said.

Boba vaguely remembered Karren saying something along the lines of ‘Din doesn’t get into trouble anymore,’ and was pleased to find that that was not the case. Din already knew what awaited him at his home covert and anyone with slightly more than a rock for a brain could see that it wasn’t going to be hugs and kisses.

Bojzka volunteered to accompany Din as a guard when the jedi made himself conveniently unavailable. Kryze and Boba flipped a coin while Din resisted stabbing him, and of course Boba won. Kryze flipped it again to be sure, and Boba told her sweetly that he’d send her a postcard.

“Have fun with the schmucks lounging around this place,” he gloated at Bo-Katan’s rolling shoulders.

She gave him two naughty fingers.

Whatever, girl. Sucks to suck. Bye, bye, now. Come on, Fennec. There’s adventure to be had.

---------

It was a ways to the new covert on Zeffo. Several hours, in fact, many of which were spent playing ‘I spy’ with Fennec while Bojzka gritted his teeth and asked them if they were always like this.

Fennec got Din to join in at that comment.

Eventually they ran out of white dwarfs and capes to identify and settled down into silence until the ship declared landing to be imminent.

Karren remembered Boba and the second he set foot inside the curiously constructed covert entrance. The kid came hurtling up to tackle him and wrap arms around his middle. It was endearing. Boba checked the doors to see if a guard would notice a kidnapping.

Fennec reminded him of child-based expenses. Her wisdom was invaluable as usual.

Karren scrambled away from Boba and, for a moment, made like he was going to attach himself to Din’s armor, but instead wriggled past Din to go tearing down the hallway. He skidded, crashed, and then clambered into a different room at the dead end of what appeared to be a row of barracks. Seconds later, Eegang exploded from one of the rooms adjacent wearing no armor but his helmet. He flung himself through the same doorway Karren had vanished through.

Din tilted his head.

“It’s fine,” a voice said behind them.

Their small party turned to see a woman wearing a cool purple helmet with only her flakvest on. Eegang’s pale baby was sat on her hip, pawing at her chest, trying to find purchase in the vest.

“Sotra,” Din greeted.

“Welcome back, brat-child,” Sotra said. “We missed you.”

This had to be Eegang’s secret-wife; unless she’d stolen that gurgling foundling in the night or something.

“Electrical?” Din asked, pointing at the far room.

“Loft,” Sotra said. “There’s hay, so of course all the kids have to be in it.”

“Just hay?” Din asked.

“And goats,” Sotra said.

Ah.

“We raise goats now?” Din asked.

“Oh, no, no,” Sotra said, sashaying past him towards the room her husband had abandoned, “It’s either coexistence or war, I’m afraid. The forge is past the hangar, keep going through the kitchens. Voxie knows you’re here—he’s awake, by the way. Welcome home, Din.”

“Thanks,” Din said. “This is my advisor, Boba Fett and our friend Fennec.”

Sotra splayed her whole, tall body into the doorway of her and Eegang’s barracks just as a fearsome battle cry sounded out on the other side.

“Hi,” she said.

“RELEASE ME,” a child in front of her about hip-height with serious bedhead shrieked in Mando’a.

Fennec’s eyebrows launched up to her forehead. Boba felt like he needed to record this so that Kryze understood what she was missing.

“Vod Din is home,” Sotra told the child.

“DIN.”

“Shhhh.”

“RELEASE M—mmf.”

“Shhhhh. It’s quiet time,” Sotra said with her free hand over the child’s mouth. “We’re being quiet.”

Din chuckled.

“Hey, Samo,” he said.

Samo let loose an ear-piercing scream behind her buir’s hand and ducked under Sotra’s legs. She ran at Din like there was a bomb behind her. Din caught her and swung her up to perch on his arm and she kicked relentless at his tassets in excitement.

“Shhh,” Din said. “People are sleeping—”

“YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE—”

Doors started opening all down the line of barracks. A few curious, hazy, and lopsided helmets poked out from some of them, and from others, calls of ‘EYYYYYYY’ and chats ‘ALL HAIL THE MAND’ALOR’ started up, to Din’s immediate mortification.

This, Boba was delighted to realize, was not a cry of honor.

These half-asleep fuckers had been waiting months to embarrass Din. And he’d known that this would happen.

“Be quiet,” Din snapped all around him. “The elders are sleeping, you’re going to—”

“Well, well, well, look who’s finally home,” a taunting voice rang out on top of the rush. “If it isn’t the Mand’alor himself.”

“Paz,” Din sighed. “Not now.”

“When could there possibly be a better time, your liege?” a huge Mandalorian wearing full blue armor despite the early hour drawled from the doorway he’d attempted to casually lean in. Samo’s braids flew as her round cheeks snapped his way.

“Paz, don’t be mean,” she told him from atop Din’s arm. “Or it’ll be to the goats with ya.”

“Fuck me, the goats, what ever will I do?” Paz scoffed.

“BUIR, PAZ SAID A BAD WORD.”

“I heard him,” Sotra said scathingly, right at Paz’s visor.

“To the goats,” Paz’s neighbor hissed at him.

The hissing was taken up just as quickly as the earlier ‘all hails’ had been. Paz told everyone to shut up and mind their own asses. He was publicly booed until Eegang emerged from the loft room with Karren stuffed under an arm and demanded to know why people were congregating in the halls. He reminded everyone that that shit was a fire hazard, and in doing so, his tone changed completely from easy-going to Commanding Officer and the effect was immediate.

People scurried back into their rooms like frightened mice until there wasn’t a single open door left in the whole line.

Eegang huffed and traded Karren to Din for his daughter. Samo happily climbed onto his shoulders and held onto his chin. Karren grinned mischievously up at her, winked, and then thumbed back to the goat loft.

“Not the welcome you deserved, but the one you got. I’m afraid nothing has changed here,” Eegang told Din compassionately, wrapping his fingers around Samo’s ankles. “I see you brought friends.”

“And foe,” Din said, gesturing at Bojzka who beamed.

Eegang’s visor contained a grimace that would otherwise have wracked his whole body.

“You got in,” he deadpanned.

“Sure did,” Bojzka said. “Lovely place you have here.”

And honestly? Yeah. It sort of was. Maybe a little ramshackle, what with all the scaffolding and haphazard support beams thrown into the walls to keep the wet earth above ground from crushing everyone below it, but for all the unsteadiness, it was oozing with comradery. Family.

Behind each of those doors was a little unit like Eegang and Sotra’s or perhaps a tired body, barely extracted from its boots, taking comfort in this honeycomb of tunnels and rooms.

Boba couldn’t help but wonder how he and Dad would have done in a place like this.

“We try,” Eegang said flatly. “I’ll let the Armorer deal with you herself—if she’s awake, I mean. Otherwise, you’re condemned to Shimmol. I’m going back to sleep. Vok is waiting for you, keep going straight through the kitchens, Din.”

“Thank you,” Din said. “Sleep well, Vod.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, Monster. No goats for now.”

Samo waved at Boba and Fennec with a smile as bright as the sun. She ducked expertly as Eegang passed through the doorway to their quarters. He closed the door behind them.

------

“You don’t see families like that much anymore,” Bojzka hummed as Din led their troop down the hallways, through a series of ladders into a kitchen and then from there into a surprisingly neat, up-to-date hangar with concrete floorings. Six crafts were parked inside, tucked into the tight space like fish in a barrel.

“We have a few,” Din said. “I don’t know how many people are living here now, though.”

Given the size of the place? Maybe fifty or so, if Boba had to take a guess. There had been several sets of boots lining the wall outside the barrack doors.

Din picked his way through the crafts to two tarps covered in piles of spare, rusting, and grease-covered parts. At the end of the aisle between the tarps was a rectangle bordered by wooden benches and to the left of that was a little box that a mechanic presumably operated from. The box, however, had no windows. Its door was slightly ajar.

Din knocked and a snort and a slurp answered him.

“Jus’ a mo,” a thick voice said inside.

Fennec looked at Boba with intrigue.

“Tool gnome,” she said.

No, friend. Just a grease-monkey.

“Tool gnome,” Fennec insisted.

The door opened and a man at least six feet, two inches peered out of it.

“Tool giant,” Fennec amended in a whisper.

“Is that you, Din?” the mechanic asked. His helmet was rusty red and gray. Its visor had a yellow tint to it.

“It is,” Din said. “It’s been a while, Vok. These are my—”

“Forget them. Goran told me what you did to Razor.”

Din cringed.

“I—”

“AH. No. I don’t wanna hear it,” Vok said. “I just—I’m glad you’re safe, but you ain’t touching any more of my children, you hear me, boy?”

Din sunk into his shoulders in shame.

“I hear you,” he said.

“You’re damn right you do,” Vok said. “Man, I had a whole speech written out and shit, and here you are, early as the fuckin’ dawn. Did you miss Paz?”

“We did not,” Din said.

“I tried to have him do an inventory, I did,” Vok said sympathetically. “But he wasn’t havin’ it. Took an IOU and everything.”

Din sighed.

“Thanks for trying,” he said. “Is the forge...?”

“That way,” Vok said, gesturing to the far end of the hangar, where a series of scaffolding led up to a dark hole in the wall. “Mind your step. Stairs are next on my list. Who’re your friends?”

Din introduced them. Vok considered Fennec and after a moment of thought, saluted her. She tipped her jaw to the side and gave him a once-over.

“Din’s got my number if you’re not busy,” Vok said.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Fennec said.

“I hope you do, my darlin’. You? Boj-whatever? I heard about you. You can go fuck yourself.”

“Thanks, Vok, we’re going now,” Din intervened.

----------

Fennec said nothing on the way up the scaffolding. She didn’t need to. Boba applauded her.

---------

The forge was the least finished part of the covert, and Boba could respect the Armorer’s dedication to looking after the flock before her own needs. Not that the forge wasn’t a comfortable place. Upon entry, Bojzka whistled at all the equipment inside. There were steel beams crossing in hatches along the ceiling. It appeared as though someone was working on a ventilation mechanism up there. Ropes and pipes hung down from the beams as though a pulley system had been recently removed.

The forge itself was a huge circular structure with a high wall around its exterior. It was built of a slick-looking black material. There were three water troughs set up in a line behind it and two rudimentary wood blocks with anvils set on them. Benches littered with iron tools sat next to the anvils.

Din appeared very at home in this place, despite not having even been in it. He wove around the accoutrements of the room towards a wooden door that had been placed on hinges on the far side like an afterthought.

He knocked.

“We don’ want any,” a sleepy woman’s voice drawled.

Boba jumped as a something brushed his elbow and discovered that Karren had followed them all the way down to the forge. His soft boots had hidden his footsteps, but, like Din, he was now in a place that he knew like the back of his hand. Din grabbed the scruff of his neck as he went for the door with both hands.

“You’re supposed to be in the nursery,” Din told him. “Shoo.”

“Shimmol, Din’s home,” Karren said through the door. “Goran, Din’s home.”

Very cute. Karren wanted to be the one to shared the news. Din pulled him back as shuffling started up on the other side of the wooden door.

It opened to reveal a fluorescent pink helmet with floral patterns painted down the edges in white.

“Din?” the young woman, who could only be Shimmol, asked.

Din’s brain stuttered.

“Uh?” he said.

Shimmol’s flightsuit was once white, but it was burned and smudged to gray all over. Her heavy gloves were half-burnt on both hands, too. She surged forward into Din’s chestplate. Din hugged her back awkwardly.

“Hello, sister,” he said. “This is, uh.”

“Do you like it?” Shimmol asked, pulling away from him to touch the edges of her helmet. “I thought it was cute. Wait til you see the pauldrons. They match.”

“They’re hideous,” Karren said.

“Did anyone ask you?” Shimmol flung at him. “No, I didn’t think so. Get gone, womp-rat.”

Wow. No wonder Karren was desperate for Din’s attention.

“I’m not a womp-rat,” Karren said. “I’m a Tooka. Goran said so.”

“You know, what you actually are is a ‘nuisance,’ so it doesn’t matter what—”

“Children.”

And lo and behold. The lady herself. Gold helmet and everything.

“Din,” the Armorer said, placing a hand on Shimmol’s side to move her. “Welcome home.”

Din accepted the helmet touch with grace.

“Bojzka,” the Armorer said next. “I didn’t expect to see you in my home so soon, or at all.”

Bojzka beamed.

“You’ve grown a beard,” the Armorer noted. “It does not become you.”

Boba coughed into his elbow to hide the bark of laughter screaming to escape his throat. Fennec thumped at his back.

“Let’s move somewhere with more light,” the Armorer said. “Karren, Shimmol. You’re dismissed for the next hour. Go eat breakfast.”

“But—” Shimmol started.

“Up, up, up,” Karren chanted, getting behind her and shoving hands into the small of her back. “It’s people-time.”

“Leave it. I hate people-time,” Shimmol said. “I thrive on darkness. It sustains me better than food.”

Din looked desperately into the Armorer’s helmet. The Armorer ignored him and told Shimmol that she knew this to false and to stop whining. Upstairs, now.

The kids relented and left the forge. Din pointed after them.

“I know,” the Armorer said. “Let her work through it.”

Din pointed even more insistently.

“No, no. It’s true,” Bojzka said. “Mine went through the same thing.”

--------

The Armorer sat them all down at a ‘u’ shape of benches on the far side of the forge. She turned on some overhead lights. They lit up the forge and threw its equipment’s shadows harshly against the floor.

“Thank you for coming,” she said lightly. “It takes a long time to get to Zeffo, even in the Outer Rim.”

“It suits you,” Bojzka flirted.

“It does not,” the Armorer countered unrepentantly. “And your flattery remains aggravating.”

Bojzka didn’t seem to process the meaning behind those words, too busy he was with basking in the Armorer’s presence. She ignored him to turn to Din.

“Eegang tells me that you have been aggressive towards Bojzka, ad’ika, is this true?”

Din hunkered down into his shoulders. He didn’t want to answer. The Armorer didn’t make him.

“This is unnecessary,” she said. “Bojzka does not bother me.”

Bojzka rounded a gloating grin at Din.

“He is delusional, but I’m afraid that head trauma does this over time,” the Armorer said lightly. “There is no need to defend my honor—I’ve already had this conversation with Eegang, so know that it is not only you who I’ve spoken to about this. And Bojzka.”

“Yes, dear?” Bojzka hummed.

“I would appreciate it if you ceased in antagonizing my foundling and second.”

“I’m not trying to, Nomri.”

“I know,” the Armorer said. “And that is where I believe this tension arises from. Din, you and your advisor may leave. I’ll handle this. In future, know that it is not your place to speak on these matters in my stead, yes?”

“Yes, Goran,” Din mumbled.

The Armorer waited.

“Buir,” Din corrected.

“Thank you. The last thing I need is the Mand’alor becoming invested in old-standing relationships. You may go.”

Din stood and Boba and Fennec stood with him.

“He is not Naseem,” Din said right at the doorway.

The Armorer’s helmet turned slowly his way.

“No one will ever be Naseem,” she said. “It’s okay. Go.”

-----------

Boba need the full story on this Naseem guy approximately yesterday, but all he had at his disposal in the kitchens where he, Din, and Fennec had been banished was a collection of foundlings all staring up at their party looking guilty as hell.

In the midst of their group was a ten-year-old holding a glass jug absolutely brimming with frogs.

Boba had never seen this many foundlings together at once before, and he had to say: these traditionalists knew exactly what they were doing. There was nothing quite like a whole mass of youths to shift the mood.

The kids made a break for it.

Fennec was the fastest of all of them, but even she was not as fast as the bodies that popped their heads out of the rattling back room and launched themselves without warning over the few rows of tables set out in the main space.

Din’s covert collectively looked after the little ones, he explained when one of these bodies returned with the wrist of a shrieking Twi’lek child in their grip. The shrieking cut off when the nurse dropped down into a crouch and flattened both of the child’s hands against their helmet so that they left splotchy prints behind.

Two of the folks who filed back into the room covered in mud did not wear helmets. Din didn’t recognize them until they spoke and said their names. They’d removed their helmets back on Nevarro, apparently, and they had not to put them back on. Now, they wore veils and headscarves—neither of them comfortable with their whole heads and faces on display.

One of these was a woman named Madda. She saw Din’s helmet and froze by one of the long tables.

“Din, I’m so glad you returned,” she said with hitching breath. And then she took her newly-acquired jug of frogs and went tearing back down the hallway towards the covert’s main entrance. Din watched after her, confused.

“Is the transition difficult?” he asked one of the other Mandalorians next to him.

Their helmet showed zero emotion, and yet Boba gleaned from it everything he needed to know. He put a palm on his forehead.

“Djarin, come here,” he said.

-------------

Din chased after Madda to apologize for fucking up what was probably a years-long infatuation at this point. Fennec watched after him with a sly grin. But the Mandalorian with the flat helmet turned to Boba with far more open shoulders.

“You got through to him like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“It’s his secret talent,” Fennec told her.

“What was your name?” the Mandalorian asked.

“Boba Fett,” Boba said. “And yours?”

“Jhuvac.”

“Nice to meet you,” Boba said politely.

“Aren’t you the clone-guy?”

Welp.

“I prefer ‘Fett,’” Boba said.

“Nah, I feel that,” Jhuvac said, tossing her scarf over her shoulder. “Paz calls you the ‘clone-guy’ is all. That shit’s wild, by the way. But you can’t help your dad’s decision now can you?”

What was this? Understanding? From a traditionalist? Kryze would lose her shit.

“I can’t, although everything after that was totally me,” Boba said.

Jhuvac glanced back at him.

“Including the Solo stuff?” she asked.

Boba lifted a brow.

“Is there something you would like to know?” he asked.

“No,” Jhuvac said. “I know everything I need to. But you know what’ll make Vok’s life miserable?”

---------

The mechanic was a huge fan of Han Solo, and he had a list of reasons why Boba should cease hunting the man about as long as one of his lanky arms. He listed them out one by one in his hangar full of metal scrap. Jhuvac was very correct when she said that the mere mention of Solo meeting his maker would cause Vok immense misery. Boba could see how it could be entertaining.

Fennec made it even more entertaining by poking holes in each of Vok’s carefully laid out arguments.

He kept asking her why she was hurting him like this. Was this a domination kink?

Fennec asked him if he wanted it to be.

Vok walked it all back and told her to do her worst.

Jhuvac decided that she suddenly had other things to do and invited Boba to accompany her on these things. Boba assented and left Fennec to her business.

----------

In the end, Boba found himself outside in a group huddle with a handful of covert people, two with no helmets, watching the feud between the foundlings and the local wildlife. The covert, he learned, broadly did not like Zeffo. They hated how wet it was. They hated how cold it was. 90% of them had grown up in desert climates, the remaining 10% in ice climates.

Zeffo, as far as they were concerned, was a backwater hellhole that they’d had little choice in selecting.

“It was this or breaking up and forming two coverts,” Sotra explained, removing Mesa’s captured snail from his face area for the third time. She gave the snail to the guy next to her who got up and took it down to the edge of the nearby river. He stooped to set it in the grass, then froze in shock when a fish’s wide mouth erupted from the water and encapsulated his whole glove.

It left the glove wet and empty.

“But you didn’t want to do that?” Boba asked.

“No, if we separated, it would be Eegang at the head of the new covert,” Sotra said. “And that’s just not in the cards for us right now.”

Gotcha.

“The children didn’t want to be separated either,” one of the Mandalorians with no helmet said. “Goran gave them the option, but things were frantic, you know. They cling to each other when they’re young like this.”

More than understandably, in Boba’s humble and correct opinion.

“What do you all think of Bojzka?” Boba asked them.

“Who?”

“The bull with no helmet? Beard?” someone said.

“The one trying to court the Armorer?” Sotra asked.

Everyone clambered back onto the same page in the face of this descriptor.

“He’s supposed to be some kind of hero,” Jhuvac said. “But I dunno, man. He seems a little, uh.”

“Goran’s too good for him,” Sotra interjected simply. “Imagine stooping so low after a life of respect and service.”

“He’s not ugly,” the Mandalorian who’d lost the snail pointed out. “I’d bang him.”

“You’re not a good bar, Ban.”

“I could be.”

“You’re the lowest bar, Ban.”

“Can’t be disappointed if your expectations on the floor.”

“Go bang him for Goran then,” Jhuvac said. “I can’t tell if she thinks he’s kinda cute or if she wants to stab him in the heart.”

“For the good of the covert, I will endure this hardship,” Ban said.

He was unceremoniously yanked back down when he started to stand.

“Din mentioned some guy named ‘Naseem?’” Boba asked.

The name alone sent the group into titters.

“Naseem was so nice.”

“Naseem was great, you have no idea. So respectful.”

“He wanted to take Din on so bad, it was almost heartbreaking. He and Goran were perfect for each other. He was so happy around her; I don’t think he ever talked in front of anyone else.”

“God, when he died, I cried so hard. I cried for days.”

“Same.”

“Kind of a tough reputation to beat, then?” Boba asked.

“Oh definitely,” Jhuvac said. “I mean, there was Hajka after him, but she was just so explosive. Like, she made Goran laugh a lot, I remember that, but she was kinda awkward, too. There was a battle on her home planet and she left everyone here to defend what was left of her people.”

“Goran collects the awkward ones, they’re her favorite,” Sotra said.

“You can’t judge her, you collect Eegangs,” Ban pointed out.

“There is only one Eegang.”

“Girl, we know.”

There was a pause while Sotra handed off her child so that she could beat the shit out of Ban on the lumpy grass. Jhuvac handed Mesa over Boba’s lap to the quiet person at his right. They took the baby without question and laid him on their chest.

“Where did you grow up, Boba?” Jhuvac asked. “Sorry, Fett. Do you like Fett?”

Boba was taken aback. It had been ages since someone had called him by his first name—and a Mandalorian no less.

“Boba is fine. I grew up on Kamino,” he said.

“With a covert?”

No, no covert. No anyone, really. Boba was what people in white coats tended to call ‘under-socialized.’

“That’s sad,” Jhuvac said. “It must have been lonely.”

It was, actually. Especially after Dad had died.

“That’s so sad, I’m gonna cry,” Ban said. “Join our covert.”

All helmets and eyes rounded on Boba and he felt like his collar was suddenly digging into his neck. He shook his head.

“I’m not really a Mandalorian,” he said. “It’s not right—”

“Bullshit.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Jhuvac, let ‘im talk.”

“No, that’s bullshit. Listen, Din has ‘don’t trust people’ syndrome. If he trusts you enough to bring you with him here, then you’re Mandalorian enough for us,” Jhuvac said. “And anyways, being a Mandalorian is about what you do, not who you are. It doesn’t matter if you’re clone-guy so long as you follow the Creed in a more or less northernly direction.”

Boba stared at her and realized that everyone was staring at him again. He cleared his throat but found that he didn’t have any words trapped back there like he’d thought.

“Or easternly,” Ban offered to break the awkwardness.

There were still no words on Boba’s tongue. He struggled to say at least something.

“I—th—that’s kind of you,” he eventually managed. “I don’t think I could cut it here, but that’s really kind of you.”

The Mandalorians exchanged looks and shrugs.

“Know that the offer stands if you feel any pull towards it later,” Sotra said. “We have a number of reformed who converted and who move in and out of our covert. Not recently, but when we were children, there were more. Goran, too, was once a reformed Mandalorian.”

“My buir, too,” Jhuvac added.

“My ba-buir was reformed,” Ban said. “But she might have caused a public riot. Or two. Or three.”

“Speaking of which,” Sotra said. “Elder Fayrz has emerged from his cave.”

“I’ll get him,” Jhuvac sighed.

Boba frowned and looked from them out to the hill the foundlings had selected to gossip on. A Mandalorian in black and white with a green cape was, indeed, now kneeling among them. Every face was turned towards him in wonder.

“I’ve heard of this guy. He looks fun,” he noted.

At least one hand from every body came up to clutch at their face.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Ban said.

------

Din rejoined Boba in the midst of Elder Fayrz’s attempt to recruit him into the covert. He somehow knew Dad. That in itself was a little disarming. At first, Boba hadn’t believe that the elder was speaking the truth, but then he started up with alarmingly specific training corp numbers and mentioned off-handedly that he used to work in the corps, training kids from six to fourteen.

It made sense now why, in old age, he was considered the most dangerous person in the covert to have around the foundlings.

Grandpa was a serial spoil-er and mischief-instigator. The children saw in him everything they wanted out of life and were loathe to be separated from their most favorite old man.

Din got between him and Boba and informed the Elder that he’d just gotten married.

The Elder’s attentions went rocketing in the opposite direction. He wanted pictures, he wanted to know all about the reception, he wanted to know why Din hadn’t brought his partner home with him, what color their armor was, where they were presently based—the whole barrel of spotchka.

Boba appreciated the save.

He also appreciated the moment when the Elder fully realized that Din had, in fact, married a real jedi.

“YOU STUPID BOY.”

There it was.

The children bustled and whispered.

“This is what happens when we do not teach them to read—where is your buir? I told her, I told her that you needed more lessons. Always with the dogs, I knew it would have some effect—”

Din couldn’t even argue. He and Kryze had been over the very same deficit about sixty times. If they were lucky, Bo-Katan gave him a day or two off in between scoldings.

While the old man was outraged, Din signaled to Boba that they would be leaving soon.

--------

Bojzka joined Boba, Din, and Fennec at the ramp of their ship about ten minutes late. The Armorer personally showed him out of the covert and told him to return only if the galaxy began to collapse in on itself. She was at least cordial about it, which, in hindsight, was probably why Bojzka was having a hard time reading the glaring ‘please desist’ sign flickering over her head.

“Be safe,” she told Din while Karren made sad sounds behind her.

“Will do,” Din said. “Next time, I’ll see if Luke will come.”

“We would like to have him,” the Armorer said.

She dipped her helmet to Boba and Fennec and they returned the gesture.

“I hope you were well-received by the others,” she said. “Bojzka, good bye.”

“Talk to you later,” Bojzka hummed.

“We shall not,” the Armorer said.

---------

Back in the Dune Sea, Kryze was waiting in one of the conference rooms. Din avoided her and all her probing questions. Boba did not. He was in a sharing sort of mood and Fennec had a ‘thanks for the lay’ message to compose to Mr. Vok.

Kryze crossed her legs and gestured for him to join her at the table.

He did and crossed his legs right back.

“So?” she asked.

“Shocking peaceful,” Boba said. “Violent mostly towards their own members. Tried to recruit me at least three times.”

Kryze’s eyebrows did a little dance.

“Surprising,” she said.

“Not very,” Boba corrected. “Din is one of the more reserved members. He resembles his buir more than I expected.”

“And Bojzka?” Kryze asked.

“Soundly rejected, but somehow optimistic about it,” Boba said. “The good news is that Din’s been forbidden from trying to kill him.”

“That is good news,” Kryze agreed.

There was a long pause.

“Are you thinking about it? Joining, I mean?” Kryze asked.

“No,” Boba said, “But it is nice to occasionally be around Mandalorians who don’t have sticks up their asses.”

“Unicorns,” Kryze said.

“A whole covert of them,” Boba told her with a smirk. “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s you all.”

“I beg to differ,” Kryze said. “If the issue is resolved, then I suppose we’ll have to move back on to official business.”

That was no fun.

“Why is Fennec so smug?”

Oh, that was more fun. Sit back down, Lady. This is going to be a bawdy one.

#the mandalorian #the armorer #din djarin #boba fett #dinluke #ficlet #don't mind me I just need answers #and in their absence I make them myself

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Lovebug (7/12)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

They all called her Hange. But they said her name like it was a title, like it was something that had to be said with as little chance of a slip of a tongue as possible. It was a practiced phrase, a relished sensation.

That was the first thing that came to mind when Levi started to give a little more thought to his surroundings. There was a bigger picture that could have explained such reactions. Hange was walking next to him. More importantly, next to her was Zeke, the owner of the two hectare complex housing both a sixteen floor hospital, a medical arts building and two parking lots.

And that was just one of his hospitals. Levi liked to remind himself of that, as he followed behind, a little more perceptive than usual of the stares, the whispers and the returned smiles.

Zeke was charismatic. Hange was charismatic. When they walked straight ahead, their strides confident, Levi could only gape, slowly becoming more self conscious of his own inability to keep his back straight. Suddenly, he was aware of his own inability to greet every single one of the workers by name, greet every single stranger like he had known them his whole life.

Maybe Hange did know some of them. “Hey, Hange that one patient you just talked to, is he regular or something?” Levi asked.

Hange shrugged. “No, I just met him.”

Levi hadn’t been close enough to hear the conversation but the grins exchanged, the confident tone with which Hange navigated the conversation. They had all seemed just a little too natural at first glance. She didn’t seem at all exhausted by multiple interactions in a row.

Hange had stopped just a few inches in front of Levi before turning back at him. “You seem stressed,” she commented.

Zeke went ahead, still chatting with a balding man in a business suit. He gestured in the same manner, chattered with the same confident tone.

Yes, after staring for a little longer than what could have been comfortable. Levi had to admit to himself, he was a little more stressed than usual. “I’m fine,” he said, turning to Hange, forcing his gaze on her. Averting eyes would only make the process of being stressed, more stressful.

“It sucks Erwin couldn’t come,” Hange continued.

“Erwin doesn’t know much about how the application actually works so I’ll just document what’s needed in our proposal and we’ll just need his take on prices and on budget allocation and that’s enough,” Levi explained.

“Maybe, they’ll do it over another game of golf,” Hange mused. “If we do play golf again, would you join?”

Levi raised one eyebrow at her. “Why waste your time playing golf again?”

“To close important business deals.”

“You can do it in the office.”

Hange chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many businessmen have closed deals on the golf course. Investors don’t work eight to five jobs in the office you know. A lot of them like to play a good game of golf then go into the office and sign the actual paperwork there. It builds camaraderie.”

“Is that why you know how to play? For business purposes?”

Hange nodded. “I’ve learned golf, a few gambling games to mingle. Besides, people like to know how their business partners and their fellow investors think and what better way than watching them over a few games right?”

“I’m not a rich businessman, I wouldn’t know,” Levi muttered. He walked ahead of Hange and surveyed his surroundings. There were patients, nurses, doctors and visitors. They all had their own conversations Levi would most likely never figure out the meat of. His own disconnect from them, his much closer connection to Hange and by extension to Zeke, had made him aware of the fact that he was painfully poor.

There was a wry smile plastered on Hange's face, as if she was starting to sense the discomfort herself. “Yeah, to be honest, it is a rich man’s game. Most businessmen who play golf, have shares in private golf courses or memberships and it’s customary to invite fellow business partners for a game in your home country club.”

“How much are these shares?” Levi enunciated those words just a little slower. It was an unpleasant thing to ask that only served to aggravate his own self consciousness. Somehow, he was feeling a little masochistic at that moment.

Hange shrugged. “Depends on the club. Maybe a few tens of thousands of dollars a year, sometimes a hundred.” It turned out she hadn’t noticed his discomfort or maybe he was just too good at hiding it.

Levi still attempted a light response. “Figures why I never learned how to play then.”

“Yeah, well to be honest, although I have played as a kid, I only got to play a lot more when I got together with Zeke. His family owns shares in country clubs in a lot of countries.”

It was a question of transitivity, one Levi quickly answered. And the large numbers he was starting to lose control of in his mind, had manifested as a cough, an almost painful, raspy one.

“Are you okay?” Hange asked. It had only been a week since the drowning incident at the beach. It subsided quickly after and Levi surmised that it wasn't the fault of his own poor health. It had been his own inability to fathom numbers, to comprehend wealth and his own blatant poorness that had frozen time for him.

Hospitals. Real Estate. Resorts. Country Club Shares. Although it was only a small aspect of it, his mind was also back to tasting the free flowing tea in Zeke’s private airplane.

“I’m fine,” Levi said. I just tried to mentally calculate the amount of money your husband earns and spends on a yearly basis. A mental note he added just for himself.

Zeke would obviously have a lot of money. He would obviously be faced with the problem on how to spend the money. Those were facts Levi grappled with as he took a deep breath just to clear the remnants of burns in his throat.

And those facts only made it more difficult to move as Levi stumbled closer and closer upon a burning conclusion.

Zeke was filthy rich. Zeke was powerful.

Levi was a meagre employee who made a meagre annual salary which was probably less than their pocket money for one trip to Europe.

Zeke had proven to be abrasive, just a little bit of a bastard. He proved to be somewhat unpredictable.

Levi was under his mercy, under Zeke’s very flamboyant whims. He clambered for solace elsewhere, back to Hange who had caught up to him. Hands behind her back, she continued to walk through the hospital like she was strolling through a park.

She was a good reminder that he wasn’t alone. Hange would help him through whatever whims or threats that came with taking up the business venture of a billionaire as a typical employee. As he studied Hange’s distracted expression, Levi had to admit, he wasn’t so sure where Hange stood in that whole relationship.

Zeke loves Hange. Hange loves Zeke. But how much help would Hange be to him? Even if Hange was helpful, even if she was supportive. Until when? For how long?

He soon concluded, the only thing he could be certain of was uncertainty. What would determine the success of the application, could be Hange or it could be him. The only thing he could predict or he could control would be his own actions.

It wasn’t motivation that had him moving faster. It was discipline. “Where are we going?” Levi asked, his voice more mechanical than a second ago for sure.

“Zeke’s office is on the top floor,” Hange answered.

Levi feigned understanding. Hange had said it like she had answered the question moments back. Maybe she did and he was just a little too unhinged at that moment. Besides, they were taking too many pit stops towards the office, only prolonging the grueling journey.

Hange and Zeke were talking to everyone on the way up. After a while, Levi tuned them out, willing himself to focus on something a little less stressful like how much the finishings on the hospital could have been, how much the tiled floors below him could have cost to not gather dust from his shoes so easily.

And he thought again to every single person being paid by Zeke to even be there. Time went incredibly slowly but as soon as they arrived at the front of the room, Levi could have sworn time passed way too quickly.

“Managing a hospital costs a lot of money, Levi,” Zeke explained as he stood outside the door of what could have been his office.

“I’m perfectly aware of that,” Levi responded, mustering as much ‘professional’ as he could with that sentence.

“Well, you look a little astonished, surprised? Or maybe that’s just your natural face.” Zeke said it like it was a truth that could be easily brushed off.

Somehow, that pushed a few buttons for Levi. He clamped his mouth shut, scolding himself for not even noticing that for a good few minutes that it was wide open.

That was more bait for Zeke. “Difficult to fathom eh? Just imagine some of these machines cost more money than most people would ever see in your life.”

And Zeke had multiple hospitals, more hospitals than Levi could even count with both hands and both feet maybe, and that monkey was completely aware of how much he actually had. It was in his demeanor, his approach towards others.

The door opened with a loud click and a grating creak. “It’s been a while Mr. Jaeger, Hange,” the woman on the other side greeted.

Everyone called Hange, Hange. Levi noted once again. It only seemed natural that Hange would have preferred that anyway.

Zeke went ahead inside the office confidently like he owned the place---since he owned the place. Hange gestured for Levi to follow behind and Levi used that last few seconds to spare a glance at the small girl with black curly hair, sleepy eyes and a very mature looking face.

“You’re Levi right? Zeke and Hange told me a lot about your application and we’re very much looking forward to seeing it in action.”

Levi subtly patted the phone in his front pocket, not for anyone to see. It just served as some reassurance that he hadn’t completely forgotten it at home or it hadn’t fallen off. When he spent too much time calculating numbers, calculating assets he would never own, and maybe never even fathom, he was aware that he may have been distracted enough to forget why he was there in the first place.

“This here is Pieck,” Zeke waved his hand with great flourish. Really though, when Levi was completely aware that that man most likely owned half the country, any gesture he did could be described as something overly flamboyant.

Pieck nodded at Zeke then at Levi. “I handle the psych wards here. Hange’s been requesting permission to test here and Zeke, he’s been raving non stop about your application,” she said with wonder in her eyes.

Zeke? Talking wonders about my app? Levi attempted to sneak a glance at Zeke, withdrawing it at the last minute after noticing, Zeke was looking right at him.

“There’s a lot of potential for that application,” Zeke answered. He had shifted to a more professional demeanor.

Hange nodded. “I mentioned this over email but Levi and I have been doing a lot of testing on it. This type of technology can be used to improve the accuracy of diagnosis, the effectiveness of treatments in psych wards…”

“Yes, I read your email and Zeke and I have been discussing this already.”

Hange’s eyes widened. She turned to Zeke. “You have?”

“I’ve been working with the other doctors here on getting volunteers among the kids. We currently have an emotional management program for kids and this would be a great opportunity to see the application. We could set a date for testing the application…” Pieck looked down at her tablet, sliding her finger over it.

From Levi’s own position, he couldn’t clearly see what she was fiddling with, his own tech savvy instincts though were hinting to a calendar. He continued to watch her finger slide over it, sliding across weeks or months he supposed.

More than enough time to get an application ready for testing.

“What about sometime this week? Would Wednesday do?”

“Wednesday? To test the love alarm app?” I thought we’ll be doing it now. He turned to Hange who seemed visibly confused as well.

Hange furrowed her brows. “We could test the love alarm now,” she suggested.

“Oh yes, definitely. But what about the test build of the application we requested?” Pieck asked.

“You have a test build already right?” Zeke turned to Levi. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned working on something… Hange, you’ve been neck deep on that proposal right?”

Levi opened his mouth to speak. It’s not ready. That was a lie. There was no build but Levi couldn’t even allow himself a sliver of confusion in his expression. It was a professional meeting. He was supposed to have everything under control.

“I have been working on something…” Hange started.

But it’s far from ready. We barely have anything out.

Pieck seemed too expectant. She turned her ipad over to him, clear enough for him to see. “We’ve informed the doctors of some free time around this week. It would be best to have it before most of the younger kids go on summer vacation. The cycle of our emotion management program ends this week and the doctors are already very familiar with the kids---”

“When does the next cycle end? We could get something available by then,” Levi said.

“We won’t be holding them during the summer unfortunately. We’ll be using that time to process data and results… So would December do?” Pieck turned to Zeke.

“What do you think Hange? This is one project you want to do right?”

Try another hospital. Another group of kids. Another program. Levi’s mind was racing with too many alternatives.

“Yes, but I don’t think the test application will be ready by then,” Hange argued.

“Where are you two now in the process?” Zeke asked.

The planning stages. Levi couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

“We don’t have anything worth presenting yet,” Hange said.

“Well, we’re not asking for a perfect product.” Zeke wasn’t addressing it at Hange. HIs blue eyes were fixed on Levi. When Levi found himself unable to even force a hint of indignance out of his mouth, he started to realize, those weren't just eyes. They were millions of dollars worth of investments, billions of dollars worth of assets in one long stare.

Levi tensed up on his seat. They weren’t asking for a perfect product but with that much money on the line, he didn’t have much room for his own decisions.

“You could do something right? Take some code from the love alarm just to get something ready?” Zeke suggested. They were reasonable suggestions Levi could easily expound on himself.

“What do you have in mind?” Levi forced himself to meet the man’s eyes.

“You’re the developer. I’m merely an investor.” Merely. The word, the way Zeke had emphasized it with an almost mocking tone, implied the complete opposite. “Tell me Levi, If he put his mind into it, what do you think a developer can do?”

They didn’t test the love alarm that day. Levi left the hospital two hours earlier than planned and went directly to his office.

***

He couldn’t have gone there any slower. The train couldn’t have run any slower and of course, he probably wouldn’t have wasted so much time fiddling with the key over his door knob if his hand hadn’t been shaking.

It was as if the whole world was trying to slow him down. He had two days---less than 48 hours--- to get something for testing. With the amount of work needed, the mountains of code needed to be written, copied and pasted, tested, Levi wasn’t seeing it in days, he was seeing the countdown in his head. When he stared at a clock, he was seeing numbers moving backward, sweet sweet time, pulling away from him.

Time was a precious asset, a precious resource and somehow, such a prospect had Levi clumsier than usual. He fell into the chair on his desk with a thump. He had leaned far back enough for a split second, that he had almost expected his chair to topple backwards.

He didn’t have the time to recover from such a terrifying prospect. While his hands were still shaking, his breaths coming out ragged, Levi forced himself forward. He turned on the computer, allowing himself a brief respite while it booted up.

His work computer was still one of the fastest of his kind and had only allowed him less than a minute to catch a breath. He typed out his username, password. He opened up the server manager.

Anger. Sadness. Happiness. Levi said aloud. That was what Zeke had promised them. As quickly as he repeated those requests to himself, Zeke’s other words echoed in his head, an unwelcome visitor.

You can break down the love alarm into that right? We’re not asking for a perfect application.

He took a deep breath, letting it out as a hard firm huff more than an exhale. As if the force in his chest would be enough to wake him up. The work was overwhelming. He should be calling someone else in to help out.

There were other factors pulling him back though.

For one, it was a Saturday. He saw himself working all the way until Monday. Just recalling Zeke's face, his question had Levi’s head spinning, his hands hovering much more quickly over the keyboard.

It was a challenge from Zeke to him. And he concluded for himself, he didn’t even wanna get Hange involved.

It would be nice to have her here---. Something inside him attempted to argue.

To cheer you on? It was a selfish proposition so Levi scolded himself and concluded that a good punishment would be to just focus.

He did first what he knew best. He copied the necessary code from both the frontend and backend. He worked efficiently. While importing data, he was copying and pasting code. While booting a phone up, he was opening necessary tabs on Github and Stack Overflow.

By the time the sun was completely down, by the time his eyes started to get just a little too crusty and a little heavy, he had a sorry excuse for an interface, a sorry excuse for an API on the server.

He looked at the clock at the lower right of his computer. Eleven in the evening. How long had he been staring at a screen? It was a waste of time to calculate that, so he quickly calculated something a little more pressing.

He had far less than forty eight hours until he needed to submit something.

He had finished a framework in only a few hours but he had more than enough experience developing the love alarm to know, the hard part wasn’t in the actual building. It was in the data loading, it was in the actual testing.

He didn’t allow himself to relax. Around three in the morning, after spending hours cleaning the interface, he fell back dead on the backrest of his seat and he allowed himself a few minutes to close his eyes.

Few minutes turned into hours in a split second. He had forgotten to set an alarm. “Fuck,” Levi hissed. That word hadn’t been enough though to carry the frustration that had bubbled inside him since hearing those words from yesterday afternoon.

What can a developer do if they put their mind into it?

Hange’s words were a savior in their own way. Levi, I’m in no hurry. Take as much time as you need. They were comforting but they didn't do much to stop Levi from sitting up and going back to work.

Had it been for Zeke? Or had it been for Hange? Or had it been his own pride that had him pushing himself to restart the boot up the idle computer.

Zeke was the important stakeholder. He held the funds. Hange was just a benefactor of the funds. Ultimately, Zeke made the final choice.

He took one deep breath, letting out a shout at the exhale. He pulled himself to a kneeling position and pressed the power button on the computer. Pulling himself up by the base of the chair, he walked sluggishly towards his white board and wrote out three words, right next to each other.

Happy. Sad. Angry.

He had no time to make an algorithm. But he could make estimates. He wrote out the basic model under each word.

“When numbers are above this line, the alarm rings,” Levi muttered to himself. When he was speaking out loud, he seemed to make some sense.

It wasn’t as easy as that though. A machine learning model after all relies on probability, it relies on prediction and the only way to get the machine to figure out probabilities was to give it data to mine from.

He turned back to the computer and typed a query. Exporting the data would take a while. Another opportunity to rest.

He used that moment to take a glance at his phone. A notification from Hange was at the top of his lock screen. He immediately unlocked his phone.

5:34 AM

Ping me if you need any help.

It was just 6:30. Hange sent the message an hour ago.

5:35 AM

Sorry for checking in late. Zeke took me out for dinner

Maybe Hange had sensed the slight irritation Levi would feel at seeing the first text sent more than twelve hours since they separated at the hospital.

5:35 AM

He wanted to spend the night with me.

5:35 AM

Just the two of us.

5:37 AM

No Phones

Out of spite or out of exhaustion, Levi kept his reply stone cold and professional.

6:36 AM

Complete the table below:

Happiness: Endorphins, Serotonin, Dopamine, Oxytocin

Anger: Adrenaline, Cortisol

Sadness: ??????

Hange’s reply came before the data export even finished

6:50 AM

Sadness: Lack of neurotransmitters.

It was a shitty reply. So Levi gave a shitty reply in return.

6:50AM

?????

Lack of neurotransmitters? Somehow, Levi didn't trust Hange to reply on time. A quick google search later and a few hours of stress later, Levi had derived the sadness model form happiness model. The models were done, they just needed to be coded.

That did nothing to placate the turmoil inside him. For some odd reason, he thought looking at his phone could pacify him somehow.

8:28 AM

Sorry Levi, Zeke took us out golfing. I’ll try to be there before lunch.

8:37 AM

Zeke’s calling the shots today :’) I’ll still try to be there before lunch.

Levi kept his reply minimalistic.

10:36 AM

Technically, it was already ‘before lunch’ so Levi wasn’t expecting anything. They haven’t seen each other in a while. He whispered to himself, just to placate whatever irritation had settled within him, manifesting as an almost permanent grimace as he started to code again.

Lunch came and went quickly with a half finished burger and fries and just a passing thought that Zeke and Hange were probably having a feast at whatever country club they were in.

“Be here before lunch my ass.” Levi said those last two words with bitter burning venom, loud enough to echo in his small office space. It would be nice if somehow she could hear it wherever she was. “My. fucking. Ass. ” He repeated, channelling all the irritation, the exhaustion, the impatience into three words. In another space, maybe she could have heard it. “Fuck me in the ass.” He let out another taut swear, enjoying how that at least sent a splits econd long wave of euphoria through him.

Maybe it could count as therapy if he typed out the words ‘my fucking ass’ or ‘fuck me in the ass’ to Hange’s message box. He didn’t have to send it though.

2:37 PM

Zeke wanted to go shopping. I swear I tried to leave.

Fuck me in the ass. Levi typed. Under it, he typed something else.

Lunch time. My. Fucking. Ass.

It would have been nice to send out. For at least a few second, it sounded like a good idea to send it. Levi had enough self control though and he had enough forward thinking skills not to send it. The profanities on the message box were enough to at least calm him down.

No, you haven’t seen your hubby in a while. Take your time :-)

Was the sarcasm apparent? He focused for a little longer on the smiley face at the end.

4:35 PM

No, you haven’t seen your hubby in a while. Take your time :-) :-) ;-)

Then he added two more just for authenticity's sake. And he went back to coding, assuring himself that the burger and the regular fries would be enough to last him until he finished the damn application.

7:30 PM

Levi! You want anything for dinner?

Levi saw that message in between reviewing a hundred compiler warnings all on the same line of code. He ignored it. Instead, he decided sending himself a pull request and reviewing the code himself as a mental exercise was a better use of his time.

8:47 PM

Hey, I might be a little late. We went out to dinner but I bought you take out. :D How are things going?

Despite the compiler warnings, the code managed to compile, so Levi allowed himself the luxury of a quick break.

10:10 PM

Fine.

After replying, Levi sat up from his seat, shifted his weight to his legs one by one. The window was a good few feet away but he saw that as a good chance for exercise. He opened the window, allowing the fresh air in, first as a weak wave only thin enough to fit through the peek. He opened it a little wider, popping his head through the gap, noting how the streets were completely empty. He stared back at the clock on his computer screen.

Ten on a Sunday evening. Typical.

He sat back on the chair, with a loud and firm plop, freezing for as long as it took for the chair to stop shaking. He leaned back and pulled the test device from his drawer. A part of him was tempted to close all the Stack Overflow and GitHub tabs.

He wasn't ready to call it a day though. He didn’t trust his ability to code anything accurately with that short of a time frame.

A few minutes later, the APK file was loaded. He booted up the application, stifling a cringe at the shitty interface.

The shitty title screen with the shitty plain white background flashed on the screen.

ALAR

He wasn’t particularly good at front end and UI engineering so he closed his eyes and begrudgingly whispered to himself Zeke's words. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Really though, it would have been nice to submit a perfect test application. Just to show up Zeke. Just to impress Hange. It would have been great and Levi allowed himself a grin as he leaned back on the chair and stared at the ceiling.

A good few hours later, he started to test. Soon after, he started to theorize something else. Maybe he jinxed it. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so hopeful.

Suddenly, he was scolding himself for just being a little too ungrateful at the shitty user interface. His mind continued to wander, his threads of imagination continued to wind, interweaving against one another, tightening to uncomfortable knots in his brain. And suddenly he was scolding himself over the hundreds of compiler warnings he ignored.

The application should alarm when someone angry, sad or happy holds it. That was how he programmed it.

Or at least, that was how it was supposed to work. When his brain was muddled with confusion and eventual frustration, heavy with tension, he took a quick break to stare at his phone.

11:58 PM

Zeke got a little drunk. I just have to bring him home.

Levi decided then, (and he was certain of it), he’d rather not have Hange there.

11:59 PM

No need to come here. Go take care of him.

His phone volume had been set to the lowest level. Just in case, Levi put his phone on silent as well.

He turned his attention back to the test device. “Come on, fucking hell. Work.” Levi hissed as if the code, the computer understood anger, as if it understood frustration.

“It’s the exact same fucking code. I just changed the algorithm,” Levi said louder, as if the code understood verbal arguments.

All to no effect. So he went back to the compiler warnings.

1:38 AM

Just tucked Zeke in bed. I’m taking a cab now. I swear, I’m really on the way now.

Levi had conveniently checked his phone around the time Hange texted. He had been checking the phone anyway in ten minute intervals.

1:39 AM

No need.

He started to use his own phone for testing, just in case a diffeent device suddenly made everything work. Besides, he liked to see the notifications there. He liked her messages. Yet at the same time, he didn’t want her there. Frustrated and confused, he slid his phone towards the end of the desk and it hit the wall with a resounding clatter, loud enough to make Levi wince.

He slipped out of the chair and onto the floor with a crash, loud enough to rival the impact of the phone on the wall just a second ago. His back was sore, but still he couldn’t help but entertain the thought that he would have been willing to experience that again, just to get the application to work.

You’re angry now right? He asked himself, as he held the test device in front of him.

The alarm didn’t ring.

You’re sad? Right? He was sad. He was sure his eyes were red rimmed from lack of sleep. His eyelids were a little crusty for sure. And as the application stayed silent, stayed inactive even when it was right in front of him, even when he had dropped almost painfully on his face, the phone remained silent, still.

Maybe his application was an idiot. Maybe it fell for fake smiles. So he forced a smile then, as he pressed his back on the ground, stretched his legs forward and stared at the ceiling above him.

Silence.

He broke the silence himself, with one grunt as he slammed the phone on the floor next to him. “Fucking hell.”

The one curse had him reflecting. How angry was he? Who was he angry at? And why wasn’t the alarm going off?

Anger was a negative feedback loop. The more he let his anger take over, the more frustrated he became. Then the more the device should have rang but it didn’t. Then the more frustrated he became.

The frustration should have been enough to make it ring. If it had been working correctly.

Eventually, the anger became strong enough to take control elsewhere. It pushed him to turn towards the desk, push himself up, just high enough to be able to stretch his hand up and pull his own personal phone back down with him on the floor. He lay back down on the floor, raised his phone on front of him and booted it up. He turned on the application and looked through it again.

No response.

Happy. Sad. Angry.

No response for any of them.

A banner appeared, falling over the application.

1:59 AM

Levi, I’m here, where do I go?

No need. He willed himself to type it again. He didn’t want her there, but he did. Conflicted feelings had him frozen on the floor, the phone just above him, his eyes fixed on the screen.

If Hange came, then she came. Who was he to stop her?

2:00 AM

Do I go to your office??

2:05 AM

If you don’t answer, I’ll just assume you’re in the office.

2:07 AM

Even if I waste my time, It’s my fault anyway.

2:07 AM.

I’m sorry.

Hange wasn’t in any obligation to be there anyway. She was an investor, not an employee, he reminded himself. He was watching the banners shift like he was watching paint dry. The former though was far more interesting. More than interesting. It was a relief. It was a consolation.

It was home. In the dim room, all alone, he wanted her there. By god, he wanted her there.

There were footsteps and they quickly got louder, the sound of a bag hitting the door, then the sound of the rustle of belongings.

He had left the office door unlocked at least and she was impolite enough to barge in. He liked her impoliteness, it had just made everything flow much better.

He followed her with his eyes, as she slipped through the crack of the door. He watched closely as her face shifted from that of pure surprise, worry… Then pity.

Was that pity? Did he look that pathetic?

“Hey, are you okay?” Hange asked.

“Tired,” Levi answered. He gave her a once over, allowing himself a sliver of a smile at her cocktail dress, the jacket over her, the light make up on her face, the golden studs on her ears. God she was beautiful. “Fun night?”

She nodded. “Zeke wanted to have fun tonight. I humored him by tagging along,” she said lightly.

He’s a lucky man. “Must have been fun.”

She put a hand to his face, and gave him a light slap. “I brought takeout, some sandwiches. Did you have dinner already? We can have it for breakfast.”

She had slapped him hard, not hard enough to leave him burning definitely, but still, he felt some heat resonate from his cheeks. “I tried,” he muttered.

“Tried what?” Hange asked.

“Building the app.”

“Levi, don’t kill yourself over it. You could have asked Petra, Gunther, Eld or Oluo for help right?” It was just like Hange to mention their names like she knew them her whole life.

“They’re on leave.” It was a natural excuse and that had been one reason why he refused to ask for help. He surmised that maybe some of it had been more than that.

“I tried to ask for an extension from Zeke,” she said.

“How did that work out?” It was a half assed response at best. He didn’t want the extension.

“He said no. He expected a lot from you. Besides, he promised the hospital already… Without consulting us.”

"Without consulting us?" Levi repeated. He slammed his fist down on the floor. "Fucking hell."

"Yeah, it's our fault. Zeke did that. I should have helped you and I know I made you wait…" Hange's voice was warm, it was a melody to his hears. ".. .so when I was stuck with Zeke, I made a few calls, picked this up from a good friend of mine." She pressed something cold into his palms.

He didn't even have the energy to crane his neck.

"It's a USB, with data from previously made research, on neurotransmitters, responses from people who've taken tests. I thought it would help build the app so I made a few calls and --"

"I'm done."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm tired."

"Hey, we could cancel tomorrow. I'll just tell Pieck. We can rebuild the app, focus on getting something out."

"Hange, I'm done."

"You're giving up?" There was a crack in her voice, something that sent a twinge to him

He let out a soft chuckle. "No. I managed to make something.”

Hange's eyes widened, a smile curled up her lips. “You’re kidding.”

“But it barely even works."

"What makes you say that?"

"It doesn't ring."

No matter how angry, no matter how sad, no matter how happy, it didn't ring. The algorithm was broken. That had been Levi's conclusion. The same conclusion he had come across when they had tested the love alarm again a few days back.There were just too many compiler warnings maybe?

Hange wasn't a developer and maybe that's why she had been a little hopeful. "I'll test it out, send me the file?"

One APK file later, a few clicks on the phone, and the alarm rang in the dim narrow room.

It made his head pound, but still, it was music to his ears. He had been too tired to even let out a strong exhale, a sigh of relief. "Are you happy? Sad? Angry?" He whispered.

"It says here, I’m happy," Hange answered.

"At least we know it works," Levi said.

"Why don't we try yours again?" Hänge pulled his hand up, guiding the phone back in between his finger tips.

"It didn't work the first time," Levi argued.

"Again." Hange was insistent and at that moment, she was much stronger than he was.

He unlocked his phone, and opened the application.

"Turn on the alarm," Hänge said.

He didn't need guidance, he made the application after all. Her voice had been coaxing, she had made everything go smoother in her own way.

He dropped the phone on his chest, stared up at the ceiling, frozen as the phone vibrated in his chest. "What does it say?"

Hange let out a short laugh. "This application can read multiple feelings at the same time? Is this expected behavior?"

"Why?"

“It says you're angry."

"I'm tired. Of course I'm angry."

"And sad," Hange added.

" Oh really?" Something started to sting at his eyes.

"And guess what, it also says you're happy."

"Am I?" Levi asked. All he could feel then was relief, relief that in the end it had alarmed. "I guess that means we're at least kinda ready for tomorrow…" He could have said more, if his voice didn't crack.

"Hey, rest. It doesn't look like you slept well."

"I slept a bit last night."

"People need at least six hours of sleep at night… and really, Levi you don't look so good."

He didn't need to see it to understand. His eyes were heavy, his rims were prickling at one another and one cheek was wet, and it brought the 'wet' all the way down to his chin, in one straight trail. A few more soon followed.

Sad. Angry. Happy. But he liked to think he was just exhausted. That feeling loomed far above the others anyway.

It rang for no reason then. He concluded. Maybe it was a bug. After all, how did something just start magically working after not working for hours before that?

Hange spoke up again in the slience. "Hey, are you crying?"

He only noticed it when she asked. His mind was quick to explain it. "Sometimes, people tear up when they're sleepy right?"

***

Hange was there when he woke up and he was glad to see her. Her eager presence was a reminder enough that she didn’t have to be there.

“Happy Monday!” Hange chirped joyfully, as if that had been the best thing to say while Levi was still getting used to his surroundings.

He never completely got used to it. The back of his head was throbbing from having fallen asleep on the hard wooden floor. The front of his head pounded. He couldn’t even lift his head without feeling some protest from his back. A light prickling sensation had settled on his fingers, all extending from an ache in his wrist. “Happy Monday,” Levi muttered. Was she mocking him?

“Sorry, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to move you,” Hange said wryly.

Not moving him might have been the better option. He barely got any sleep at night. In the small office, if it were between falling asleep sitting down on a comfortable chair, falling asleep on a floor, the floor won by a little more.

The phone sat on his hand, cold and hard. Levi pulled it up to his face to check the time.

6:30 AM. Work starts at eight. Fuck. He forgot to deploy application changes the night before.

“You should take a leave.” Hange could have been reading his mind or the stress could have just been apparent in his heavy eyelids and his voice, a hoarse whisper.

“What makes you say that?” Levi asked. He had hoped to use that moment to prove how okay he was. Sitting up was enough to leave him wincing, dealing with his exhausted body that had protested such a simple movement.

“You don’t wanna take one?”

“I forgot to deploy the changes. We’re supposed to do a sanity check today,” Levi said.

“Do it over breakfast?” Hange suggested, pressing a brown paper bag on his hand. "I brought sandwiches from last night."

“You know you can go home now. We can meet later at the hospital.”

“I wanna have breakfast,” Hange said, her voice firmer than a second ago.

“Go have breakfast with Zeke.”

Hange’s face was like that of a wounded puppy. It came quickly as a flash before shifting to something a little more sly. “I’ll take you out to tea? You never had your tea time at the country club.”

It could have been tea or maybe it was the efforts Hange had taken to insist. Sometimes, insisting was more than enough. Particularly then, when he was overwhelmingly and unbearably tired.

“What do you have in mind?” Levi asked.

“We can see what’s open,” Hange answered.

He let out a sigh, as if deciding to take a break was the hardest thing he could have done. All for the sake of one Hange Zoe. On the contrary, it was a surprisingly easy decision to make.

Levi opened up the messaging application on the phone, running his mind through quick calculations. Three hours. Just enough time for quick tea, enough time to get home and shower and get back to the office by ten.

Running late. Deploy fixes to production. We sanity check when I get to the office at around ten.

He sent over that message to the group chat of his own team, making sure to tag Eld and Petra.

He felt a little guilty but something else won over. A weak suggestion, heavily supported by his sore back, his swollen eyes and his trembling hands. Maybe he deserved a break.

***

They moved the goalposts. Levi was in no shape to brave the public transportation crowds on a Monday morning with a total of less than six hours of sleep the past few hours while his mind was complete mush at having coded an entire application himself.

Hange had alternatives. “I could have called a car to pick us up.”

Alternatives Levi wasn’t completely in good terms with. “No thank you, I’d rather not impose on your dear husband.” On top of that, he wanted his tea now.

The only shop which sold tea the least painful walking distance away was the convenience store just outside the building grounds. The convenience store had enough variety that he could be at least a little creative with his breakfast.

Paper tea cup in hand, Levi popped open the cup, He had asked for an extra large cup for one reason.

The green tea bubbled inside the container and Levi was a little adventurous that morning and maybe a little crazy. The past two days were crazy. He reminded himself, obliterating the guilt and the fear of risking his own health and sanity.

He poured ten shots of espresso onto the cup of green tea. He couldn’t be too sure how it would taste. Then he remembered, no one actually drank caffeine for the taste anyway. He drank half of it in a gulp. It could have been the bitterness that burned, or the actual heat of boiling water. When he was still making a conscious effort just to be aware of the streets in front of him, just to stay sitting up on the pavement, he couldn’t be too sure.

He took a big bite of his sandwich to drown it out. Then another. Then two more before crumpling the brown paper bag and pocketing it.

Hange humored him, sitting down next to him on the pavement just in front of the convenience store. She was still in her cocktail dress, a jacket over it. The corners of her eyes were still a little darker from the make up from last night. She looked ridiculous, like an overgrown teenager out on a wild night and had failed to get home on time.

His mind was running on too many scenarios, a total waste of brain power. The espresso would kick in eventually. And maybe it had been the espresso that had him suddenly laughing like an idiot.

Or maybe he was going crazy.

“Are you okay?”

He probably was going crazy. At that point, Levi was already skimming the stages of acceptance. “Where the fuck did you even go last night?”

Hange sighed. “Drinking, a little gambling. Zeke wanted to celebrate the new deal. ”

“And that’s why you played golf that morning. ”

Hange hummed in response. “Zeke and Erwin played. I probably would have invited you but yeah, with the application… Would you have had time?”

Somehow, Levi was slightly offended that they hadn’t even invited him. He blamed the caffeine. “Really? Well, fuck it. I don’t even play golf.” The caffeine continued to bubble, the irritation followed suit. “I’m sure they had a good sleep the past few nights,” he added.

“Well, they can’t do what you did.”

“Who cares? I’m at the mercy of money--- Zeke’s money. Rich people like to throw around orders then money, as if money’s just magic. As if developers --- employees are just bunnies or trick monkeys.”

Hange put up her hands in surrender. "You have every right to shit on rich people."

Levi dropped his shoulders and leaned back on the wall. “What can I do when millions of dollars are on the line?”

“You could have said---”

“Said no? And what? Risk losing this deal?” Risk losing you?

“I told you before, this is my pet project. This is my timeline. I can decide how long it takes. Zeke just wants---”

"Wants what?" Levi challenged.

It was a challenge for Hange but it looked like the world was on a mission to accept it. "Hange, what are you doing here?"

It took Levi a few seconds longer to put two and two together. After all, imagining that big ham of a voice within proximity of a place that sold teabags by the dollar was preposterous even for him.

"Zeke, what are you doing here?" Hange asked.

"Just need to drop a few legal documents at Erwin’s office. I saw you two on the way here, in a convenience store parking lot of all things?" His voice was judgemental, as expected. Still it was softer than that of two days ago.

It was easy for Levi to surmise that the blonde was most likely nursing a hangover. He relished the view of Zeke struggling to approach them. Misery loved company after all. Zeke’s gait was a little slower and if Levi squinted, he was sure the ungraceful wobble would have been more laughably noticeable.

“Right, you had the lawyer look over it already?”

Zeke nodded. “I’ve set up a post dated check.” He turned to Levi. “You’ve finished developing a build for testing?”

Levi managed a nod, closing his eyes as he did, to alleviate the pounding. And of course the irritation.

Zeke had been professional about the question. Levi couldn’t help but sense entitlement in it. When he was in a bad mood, any request reeked of entitlement. He spent a good few seconds after, reminding himself, Zeke was paying millions for it, and deserved every right to ask questions and expect.

“Zeke…” Hange sounded, almost breathless. “This is more money than I expected.”

How much money? Levi didn’t wanna know but from the tremble in her hands, her wide eyes, Levi didn’t think he even wanted to know.

“Think of it… as compensation for forcing you to delay your PhD,” Zeke said. “That was your plan before we got married right?”

PhD? Now that he did think about it, Hange mentioned something about delaying a PhD, all to marry Zeke.

“Yeah, if this study… this testing goes well, I could publish it for my doctorate degree,” Hange said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. A ghost of a smile for just a second. It soon got wider.

Levi only noticed a second later, his mouth had gone the opposite direction as realization dawned on him.

Right, Hange wanted to do research.

Right, Hange wanted a PhD.

And Zeke was the one who had put everything together for him at that moment. “This is your dream right?” He pressed the cheque deeper into her palms.

Hange nodded. Was that the first time he had ever seen her struggle to find the right words?

The hints were all there. The pet project. The doctorate. Hange Zoe who was just a little too interested in neuropsychology.

Why didn’t you tell me this was your dream? This was your PhD? It seemed most criminal that he couldn't even put two and two together. Levi would have wanted to scream back then. He wasn’t in any position to break anyone’s good mood though. Hange’s smile was too wide, her eyes too bright.

“I have a meeting at nine. Breakfast?” Zeke asked.

“I had something to eat already,” Hange said. “But we could get a quick brunch.”

Zeke turned back to Levi. “You’re free to join us.”

“No, I have work at ten,” Levi said. “I’ll see you two later, in the hospital.”

“I’ll see you later.” Hange gave Levi a softer smile, one just for him. He couldn’t read too much into it then. Still, he continued to stare, as she turned back and got into the car.

Zeke stayed outside for a second, leaning on the door. His eyes fixed on Levi’s.

Tired eyes on tired eyes. Levi though wasn’t sleepy enough to hear those last few words.

“Levi, thank you,” Zeke said.

Levi was taken aback for just a second at such a seemingly uncharacteristic expression. Fortunately, pleasantries were basic and automatic if he just put on the right facade. “You’re welcome.”

He watched Zeke get into the car and he stood still for a second longer, watching the car get smaller before it turned the corner of the parking of their building. He started to reflect while recalling the interactions until then. He should have been somewhat grateful for the pleasantries exchanged. After all, the man was worth billions and there weren’t many who did receive the honor of being personally thanked by billionaires.

Somehow, that exchange had only made him sadder. Hange being there next to him suddenly going absent had only made him lonelier. He gulped the rest of the concoction of a while ago, coughing out the bitterness, shaking his head to feel that last buzz.

He checked his phone. 8am. He needed a shower before work but his legs were deadweight.

So he called a taxi, not bothering to calculate the cost. After all, he did deserve a break.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

32 notes · View notes

today-only-happens-once · 4 years

Text

(un)claimed

Title: unclaimed

Summary: Virgil is a demigod. The good news is that he is not alone. A Percy-Jackson!AU fic. Platonic/found-family DRLAMP dynamics.

Word Count: 4217

Warnings: some violence and weapons, Greek mythology, passing mention of curses, feelings of anxiety, some self-doubt and self-deprecation, parent issues (of course, it’s a pjo!AU), no Side is a bad guy but there’s some tension between Remus and Roman, I play a little loose with PJO timeline stuff woops, Janus has done some light antagonizing of the gods.

A/N: Honestly, it should surprise nobody that I wrote this. Heh. Just for fun to release the happy chemical in my brain. Not that deep or involved. Just a light little diddy. <3 Hope you enjoy! Edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine. No tags because it’s a fandom-specific AU, not because I don’t love y’all. <3

///

“See that tree on the hill?”

Virgil quirks an eyebrow at the boy beside him, taking in his bright orange t-shirt and the three beads on his leather necklace. He has what Virgil would swear was snake scales across the left side of his face. Janus, he had said his name was. (Like the god? Virgil had asked. No relation. Not unless Athena has some explaining to do, the boy had told him with a wry smile as if that was somehow supposed to make sense.)

He’d met Janus four hours ago in New York in Central Park after a very weird encounter with a cyclops. Though if he’s being honest, the cyclops had only been the most recent run-in with vicious creatures out of his mother’s old Greek myth anthology. He’d been ducking and dodging and outrunning them for nearly a year at this point. Janus had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliced the cyclops with a dagger and it vanished in a puff of gold dust.

Then Janus told him he knew a safe place to go. Perhaps he was an idiot, but Virgil had followed without much objection. The idea of a place that was safe was nearly too good to be true, but Janus had just dusted a cyclops. And Virgil figured there was at least some power in numbers, if nothing else.

Virgil follows where the other boy is pointing and sees a tall pine tree at the top of the steep hill. He nods.

“Go there. You’ll see a camp in the valley. Chiron will explain.”

“Chiron?”

“Yes. Activities director. You can trust him.”

“You’re not coming too?” Virgil looks at the boy beside him again. Janus is looking in the opposite direction of the tree back the way they’d come and he yanks the dagger out of his belt.

Janus’s mouth twitches. “We’ve got company. I will hold them off. The border is protected. You’ll be safe once you cross the tree line.”

Alarmed, Virgil looks over his shoulder and sees a winged creature in the distance. It looks almost a like a bat, if a bat could be the size of a human person. “What is that?!”

Janus gives a slight shove to Virgil’s shoulder. “Run, Virgil!”

“I can’t leave you behind—”

Janus mutters something that sounds foreign, and yet Virgil understands it. A curse word in… was that ancient Greek? Virgil isn’t given time to process it before Janus grabs Virgil’s arm and takes off at a sprint up the hill. Virgil stumbles but he manages to keep his feet under him as he takes off at a run for the looming pine. As they get closer, Virgil chances a glance over his shoulder. The winged creature is maybe twenty yards away. It’ll be on them any second.

Janus whistles sharply. “Hey! We got incoming!”

Seemingly out of nowhere, three other kids appear from near the tree. One of them notches an arrow in an honest-to-gods bow. He aims, then releases. Virgil watches, stunned, as the blow strikes true and the winged creature vanishes in a puff of gold dust that gets caught in the breeze.

Virgil rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. Janus, beside him, is breathing hard as well but he nods to the kid with the bow and arrow.

“Nice shot,” Virgil tells him.

The kid looks to be maybe a year older than Virgil, and is wearing a t-shirt that matches Janus’s. He’s also got a necklace of beads, though his has five of them. Virgil realizes that some of them match Janus’s, plus a few more. He slings the bow across his back and flashes Virgil a bright grin.

“Thanks! I’m Sloane.” He extends his hand.

“Virgil.” He shakes the kid’s hand.

Sloane nods to the other two kids that had materializes near him. One of them is a girl that looks a little younger than Virgil, maybe 14, with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The other is a guy in a backwards baseball cap and a plaid shirt over the orange tee that looks about Sloane’s age. His necklace only has one bead on it.

“This is Valerie,” Sloane introduces. “She’s from Cabin 10. And this is Kai. He’s from Cabin 9.”

“Sloane,” Janus interrupts. “Where’s Chiron?”

Sloane jerks his head down the hill. “In the Big House with the lead counselors.”

Virgil watches Janus’s brow furrow. “Seems unusual. Did something happen?”

Valerie sighs. “Kind of. Dionysus gave one of his kids a quest. Counselors are meeting about the prophecy to see who is going.”

Janus’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Which one?”

“Jack. The prophecy mentions a death. That never bodes well, and kids aren’t exactly lining up to work for Mr. D.”

Janus hums thoughtfully, his eyes trailing over the crest of the hill. Virgil watches as he shoves the knife into his belt. Kai cocks his head slightly, studying Virgil closely. Then, he looks at Janus. “Has he been claimed?”

Virgil frowns. “Claimed?”

“No,” Janus tells Kai, then looks to Virgil. “Follow me. I’ll explain as we walk.”

Janus nods to the other three and Virgil follows him down to the valley below. From this vantage point, Virgil sees the cabins Janus has been talking about, forming something like a horseshoe shape. In front of it is a large building that Virgil assumes is the ‘Big House’ that Sloane had mentioned. He sees other buildings and structures, but decides to wait to ask about them.

People mill around, most of them wearing the orange t-shirt that has a winged horse and the words Camp Half-Blood printed on them. When they notice Virgil, most of them throw a curious glance to Janus. Janus doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood,” Janus says as they walk. “It’s one of the few safe spaces left for demigods like us.”

“Wait,” Virgil says, certain that he heard Janus incorrectly. “Demigod?”

Janus glances at him. “Hm. I gather you really don’t know very much. Yes, demigod. Half-god, half-mortal.”

“And you think I’m one of these, uh, half-bloods?” Virgil shakes his head. “Listen, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Janus looks almost amused now, an eyebrow arching almost like a challenge. “You couldn’t have gotten across the border into camp if you weren’t. Let me guess… you have ADHD and dyslexia.”

“Wh—I mean, yes, but—”

“You were raised by either a single parent or no parent at all,” Janus continues.

“My mom, until—”

“You see things others either don’t see or don’t remember.”

“I—”

“Please. Do stop me if I’m wrong.”

Virgil falls silent, his chest a bit tight. He crosses his arms over his chest as they walk.

Janus waits for a beat before he elaborates, sounding like it’s a spiel he’s given a dozen times already. “The ADHD is the battle reflexes. Dyslexia is because your brain is wired for ancient Greek, not modern English.”

Virgil’s mind is reeling. “But—”

“The things you see are because you’re a demigod. You are able to see things as they are. Mortals—most mortals—get deceived by this thing called the Mist. Someday, with training, you’ll be able to manipulate it as well. It’s a useful skill.”

Virgil feels suddenly way too hot, and yet still has the sudden desire to pull the hood of his hoodie up over his hair. “Demigod,” he repeats, though saying it aloud doesn’t help it make sense. “Are… Are you telling me that my dad is a god? Like a Greek god? Zeus? Apollo? Those guys?”

Janus glances at him and looks, for a split second, almost apologetic. “I understand that it’s a lot to take in at once. This is why Chiron usually takes the initiation. He usually has a more, ah, sensitive means of broaching the subject. But since he’s meeting with the lead counselors, I’m afraid the responsibility falls to me.”

Virgil blinks. He can feel the pressure in his chest building and he forces himself to take a breath. It doesn’t help as much as he’d been hoping it would. “Which one?”

“Hm?”

“Which god is my dad?”

They’re passing in front of the Big House now. There’s two people standing on the front porch—a blonde girl holding a Yankees cap and a boy with a goatee leaning against the railing—seeming deep in conversation. The blonde girl offers Janus a small wave. Janus nods back.

“To your question, the answer is that we don’t know,” he says. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, your guess is as good as ours. But you might be claimed any minute now, or never claimed at all. I was claimed three days after arriving at camp by Athena. But we have several campers who haven’t been claimed at all. Remy Short is one such example.”

“Athena. Goddess of wisdom and strategy,” Virgil remembers. He’d read that name in his mother’s library when he was younger. And he has a vague memory from sixth grade social studies.

“Indeed,” Janus replies. They circle around the house and Virgil realizes that Janus is leading him towards the semi-circle of cabins. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, you’re designated to Cabin 11. Hermes’ cabin.”

“Janus!” A bright, cheerful voice calls from behind them. Janus stops and turns, and Virgil follows his gaze. A boy that looks about Virgil’s age, maybe a year older, is running towards them from the Big House. He’s got a flop of curly hair and big round glasses.

“Patton,” Janus greets as the boy slows to a stop near them. “Virgil, this is Patton. He’s the head of the Hermes cabin.”

Patton grins and holds out his hand. “Hi, Virgil. Welcome to Cabin 11. I’ll talk to Chiron about getting you some supplies—”

“I’ll talk to Chiron,” Janus interrupts as Virgil shakes Patton’s hand. “I need to ask him about some things anyway. Patton, could you—”

“For sure,” Patton agrees readily. “I’ll show Virgil around!”

Janus excuses himself and starts towards the Big House. Virgil rubs the back of his neck and offers Patton an awkward smile. Now that he’s closer, Virgil realizes that Patton is maybe an inch or so shorter than him. He’s got four beads on his necklace.

“How ya doing?” Patton asks him, startling him out of his thoughts. Virgil meets his eyes. Patton’s are a warm brown, and his smile is sympathetic. “I remember my first day at camp. It’s always overwhelming.”

Virgil huffs. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You’ll love it here,” Patton says with a surprising amount of confidence.

Virgil arcs a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ve heard that before. I don’t seem to, ah, stay in one place very long.”

“Kicked out of school?” Patton guesses. He starts walking around the cabins and Virgil follows, slipping his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah. Several times.”

“We all have,” Patton says, not unkindly. “That’s the best thing about camp. In the mortal world, we’re all labeled as weird or outcasts. But at camp? We’ve all been through it. Oh! This is Cabin 10. Aphrodite’s cabin.”

Patton walks Virgil around the semi-circle, explaining each cabin’s assigned deity. He adds that Cabins 1 through 3 are empty, though apparently there was a girl that used to be in Cabin 1—Zeus’s cabin—who joined the Hunters of Artemis and left camp. Cabin 2 was Hera’s, and since she didn’t have children, the cabin was mostly honorary. Cabin 3 usually had a kid in it, but he apparently was on some kind of recon mission and wouldn’t return for another day or two. Cabin 8—Aretmis’s cabin—is also, usually, empty except when the Hunters visit.

“Since you don’t know who your dad is, you get to bunk with us at the Hermes Cabin,” Patton explains. “We take all unclaimed kids, since Hermes is the god of travelers.”

“I thought he was the god of thieves,” Virgil says before he can think about it.

Patton smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, that too. If you’ve got anything important, maybe keep it with ya. Just in case. I try to dissuade stealing, but old habits die hard for some of these kiddos.”

Patton leads him around the camp, pointing out the strawberry fields, the armory, and the forge that mostly gets used by the Hephaestus kids. A few of them wave at Patton, who eagerly waves back and calls a few of them by name. He shows Virgil the arena, where two kids are sparring. Patton takes a seat and Virgil sits beside him, watching the two boys circle each other.

Both of them are wearing matching orange t-shirts—Patton had told him that he’d be getting one too—and some armor. One of them has dark hair and square glasses. He’s got two knives, one in each hand, and even from a bit of distance Virgil can sees the slight sheen of sweat to his forehead. The other one’s hair is a couple of shades lighter. His sleeves are rolled up and he wields a sword and a shield.

“The one with the glasses is Logan,” Patton explains. “He’s a child of Athena. The other one is Roman. He’s a child of Apollo. I met both of them in Seattle before we made our way to camp together thanks to some help from a satyr.”

“All three of you have been claimed?” Virgil asks, watching as Roman charges at Logan who rolls out of the way and then nimbly jumps back up to his feet. He slashes at Roman’s back but Roman parries the blow with a well-timed flick of the sword.

“Not immediately,” Patton says. “Logan was claimed as soon as we got to camp, but it was a month or so for me. And Roman was nearly a year before Apollo claimed him during a campfire song. It certainly surprised a lot of people.”

“Why?”

“His brother was claimed by Ares three months before him, so most people thought Roman was Ares’ kid too.”

Virgil glances at Patton. “Roman has a brother?”

Patton’s mouth presses into a thin line for a moment, and Virgil gets the sense that it’s a touchy subject. “Yeah. Remus. It’s unusual for two kids of the same family to both be demigods, and the fact that their father are two different gods led to some… tension. Roman and Remus don’t exactly get along.”

Virgil nods his understanding and turns his attention back to the sparring pair. Roman blocks a quick slash from Logan with his shield and swipes at him with the sword, but Logan parries the blow with the other knife in his hands. Then in a series of quick movements—Virgil isn’t sure how it happens, exactly—Roman is flat on his back and Logan is on his chest with the knife to his throat.

Roman says something that Virgil can’t make out, and Logan says something in kind before he climbs off Roman and helps him up. Roman flashes a grin and shoves Logan’s shoulder before he glances past his sparring match and sees Patton and Virgil sitting on one of the benches.

Roman waves. “Heya, Padre!”

Logan glances over his shoulder and quirks an eyebrow at Virgil but stores his daggers as Roman jogs over. Patton stands and Virgil follows him down to meet Roman halfway.

“Hey, Roman,” Patton replies. “I didn’t know you started using a sword!”

Roman grabs a towel off a nearby bench and mops the sweat off his forehead. “It’s new. I’m still trying to get used to it. I think the balance is off.”

“The balance is fine,” Logan quips, stepping up beside him. “You just need more practice.”

Roman rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. “Either way, Specs. I’ll take archery any day over waving a sharp stick around.”

“You are definitely a son of Apollo,” Logan rejoins back without malice. “And it would be unwise to only be versed in ranged attack.”

“And you are definitely a son of Athena.”

“Correct.”

Virgil snorts, and then a part of him regrets it as Roman and Logan both look over at him. Virgil flushes slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but Patton seems to only perk up more.

“Oh! Sorry, this is Virgil. He’s a new camper. Janus ran into him on his way back and brought him along.”

“Which cabin?” Logan asks.

Virgil shrugs. “For now, Cabin 11, I guess.”

“Unclaimed, then.” Virgil listens for the judgement in Logan’s voice, but he doesn’t hear it. It sounds more like a flat statement of fact, as if reporting the weather. Logan nods once. “Very well.”

“I was just showing him around,” Patton supplies. “You guys wanna join?”

Logan starts shrugging out of the armor he’s wearing. “Regrettably, I said that I would assist Harley with some blueprints when I had finished sparring with Roman.”

Roman slides the sword into the scabbard at his side. “And I’m overdue for a Pegasus lesson. I can’t miss it again. The last thing I need is Mr. D giving me another earful.” Roman gives a quick two-finger salute and rushes out of the arena.

Virgil blinks at Patton. “Pegasus?”

Patton grins brightly. “Come on. I’ll show ya.”

…

Patton spends the rest of the afternoon showing Virgil around the camp. They go to the stables (where Roman offers to take Virgil for a ride but Virgil immediately declines because he’s never been a fan of flying). They swing by the beach on their way to the climbing wall. Virgil watches, amazed, as two kids climb with impressive speed and narrowly avoid the magma that starts to pour down it.

One of the kids has a Morningstar gripped between his teeth, a green bandana around his upper bicep and a matching one around his head. He’s fast, scaling the wall with a well-practiced ease. Virgil hears him laugh delightedly when his hand slips and he almost gets burned by the lava. It’s somehow both impressive and disconcerting.

“That would be Remus.”

“That’s Remus?” Virgil repeats, though when he looks a bit closer he sees the similarity in hair color and skin complexion. “I guess I see the resemblance.”

“Don’t tell Roman that,” Patton says lightly. “C’mon.”

They pass the amphitheater where, apparently, there would be a bonfire tonight. Patton shows him the volleyball court where four kids are playing one another. They wave at Patton as they pass.

“You seem popular,” Virgil supplies. He’s lost track of how many kids have waved at them as they walk around.

Patton lifts a shoulder modestly. “I dunno. Since Hermes is the catch-all cabin, a lot of camp knows me since they come to our cabin if they haven’t been claimed yet. Sometimes we get kids that get claimed right away, or kids that already have been claimed, but otherwise? I get to be their lead counselor for at least a little bit.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

“I kind of like it,” Patton admits with a smile. “It’s like I’m everyone’s honorary camp dad.”

The conversation cuts out as dinner is called and they head to the mess hall. Patton explains the offering to the gods prior to the meal, and Virgil scrapes part of his plate into the fire. He doesn’t know what to ask for.

It’d be nice to have a family again, dad, he thinks, unsure of who he should even direct the comment to. Patton waves him over, offering a seat beside him.

Virgil chances a glance around the mess hall as they eat. The Hermes table is certainly the most crowded, though Virgil can’t say he finds that surprising. Athena’s table has several kids reading while eating. Two kids at the Ares table are in the middle of an arm-wrestling competition. One kid at the Hephaestus table is pouring over a blueprint, and Virgil wonders if that was the Harley kid that Logan had mentioned.

Towards the end of the meal, a few kids at the Apollo table starts singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” and it’s not long before most of their table is doing the entire song with harmony. Someone from the Demeter table tells them to ‘save it for the campfire’, but it does nothing to deter the Apollo kids. Virgil catches Roman laughing as he sings, one of his sibling’s arms slung around his shoulders.

Virgil glances over and sees Logan at the Athena table sitting next to Janus, watching the chaos unfold and the faintest quirk of his lips betray his amusement.

Virgil feels some of the tension in his chest relax just a little.

…

The bonfire starts around dusk. Virgil is making his way to the amphitheater from dropping supplies off at the cabin when Roman comes up from behind him and loops his arm through Virgil’s, chattering excitedly about how much he loved this part of camp. Virgil sees an ukulele case slung around his shoulder.

Logan appears a second later on the other side of Virgil, commenting dryly that the Apollo kids had done their vocal warm-ups during the dinner. This only served to lead Roman to do actual vocal warm-ups—trills and scales, specifically—as they walked. Patton and Janus were already sitting down, three rows back. Patton waves when he sees them file in. Remus is sitting beside Janus, seemingly trying to goad him into some kind of competition that he was having no interest in. The firelight glints of Janus’s scales.

“Hey,” Virgil says to Roman and Logan. “Can… I ask what happened to Janus?” He immediately regrets the question, cursing his lack of a filter, but neither of the other boys seem perturbed by the question.

“A curse from Aphrodite,” Logan answers. “Janus had gone on a quest for our mother, and it led to some… unsavory tension between himself and Aphrodite. From what he’s told me, he accused Ares of being a snake in the grass while in the presence of Aphrodite, and… well. The love goddess didn’t take kindly to that. But it’s purely cosmetic.”

Virgil arcs an eyebrow. “Remus seems chill with him.”

“I’m not sure that Remus is aware of the accusation Janus leveled at his father,” Logan muses. “And Janus is not one to hold the children accountable for the actions of their godly parent.”

“It doesn’t benefit him,” Roman adds in, using his free hand for air quotes. “Or something like that. Janus is all about himself and how he can improve his own standing.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Logan quips dryly.

Roman scoffs, but when Virgil looks at him, there’s a teasing glint to his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say it, but you guys are half-brothers for a reason.”

Logan looks at Roman over the top of his glasses, but Roman just shoots him a cheeky smile as they approach the other three. Virgil slides into the seat beside Patton, followed by Logan and then Roman. There’s a few kids—Virgil isn’t sure what cabin they’re from—trying to lead a call-and-response chant as campers file in. Down the row, Remus enthusiastically calls out the responses at the top of his lungs.

“Roman!” A new voice calls out from the end of their row. A tall guy, a couple of years older than them, is holding a ukulele and jerking his head down towards the bonfire. “You ready to help me kick this thing off?”

Roman grins and jumps up. “Would be an honor, Thomas.” He rushes off and he and Thomas start playing a song together with practiced ease. He and the other Apollo kids start singing, and before long the vast majority of campers are joining in. A few of them, including Patton, sway a little. Virgil doesn’t sing, but he listens and tries to remember the words.

The sky grows dark. The Apollo kids eventually cede the floor to some Ares kids who start up another chant. More songs are sung, some snacks get passed around, and Virgil is starting to think that maybe, with time, he could get used to this.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Patton says beside him, as the next song starts. He drops something into Virgil’s lap. “I got this for ya.”

Virgil looks down. It’s two camp t-shirts. The black winged horse and the Camp Half-Blood print stares up at him. He looks over at Patton.

Patton just smiles. “Claimed or not, you’re one of us. We claim you.”

Virgil feels like maybe that’s good enough for him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #platonic drlamp #virgil sanders #percy jackson au #pjo!au #fighting #weapons #violence #found family? in my fics? its more likely than you think #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders

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op-sheepy · 3 years

Note

ok so I'm particularly interested in

Bellamy Law

Law and Bible stuff

Law is a substitute kindergarten teacher

shichibukai applications

reverse hanahaki disease (?? do u spit out flowers when your nemesis walks by?)

if you feel like elaborating on any of these!

This is gonna get long and I actually contemplated posting them separately but would that have been more work? Yeah, that felt like more work so for anyone interested, check under the cut. :D

---------------------------------o

Bellamy Law

Hm… This would be an attempt to explore the parallels and contrasts between Bellamy and Law. I've always found it fascinating that the former was a foil to the latter.

They both come from well-off towns in the North Blue.

Bellamy left because of boredom. Law had no choice because Flevance.

Both ended up seeking Doflamingo because of his notoriety as a pirate. Both admired him initially

Doffy favored one over the other though. Bellamy always sought his approval but was never really part of the inner circle Doflamingo cared about.

Law got the dubious privilege of being part of the family despite being absent for so long. Even offered one of the highest seats by Doffy's side for seemingly nothing.

Law had no trouble turning his back on Doffy once he realized the man's nature. Bellamy tried to stick to his principles until the end despite admitting that he new he was wrong.

Bellamy can (and did) quit piracy after his ordeal with Doflamingo. Having the option to live peacefully, perhaps a return to his previous life (the one he considered boring). Law can't do that quite as easily what with his Devil fruit and his reputation.

I thought it would be interesting trying to explore what Bellamy was thinking. Did he hear the Donquixote Pirates talk about their missing 'family'? Did he get to see Doffy be amused at Law's rise as a Supernova while he kept being reminded of his own status? Did Law save Bellamy partially because he also saw what he could have been had Corazon not saved him?

On principle, Bellamy should have hated Trafalgar Law. Does. Bastard even saved him without him wanting it. But there was something about the shadows haunting those eyes and Bellamy started to wonder.

He had heard the family talk about Law before. The child personally taught by Doflamingo, chosen to be his right hand. Never was he compared to the man because Law was just obviously better. Smarter. Stronger. Bellamy was ever just an uncouth thug.

He was allowed to 'borrow' Doflamingo's symbol while Law had an empty seat waiting for his return–a seat Bellamy had wanted enough to risk everything for.

Maybe he had resented, Trafalgar Law for carelessly rejecting the things he had that Bellamy had always desired. In the end too, Trafalgar Law did prove to be better. He'd done as a child what Bellamy had trouble doing even as he was now.

But having been given the chance to observe the other man as they all recovered, he wondered, perhaps for the first time, whether despite Law being better than Bellamy, Bellamy had had it better–barring the poor life choices.

---------------------------------o

Law and Bible stuff

This is just me wanting to know how many biblical parallels and themes I can draw from Law, the Donquixote brothers, the characters associated with them, and his backstory. Honestly not sure whether this would become a fic and in what style or I'm gonna give up and just make it a post.

Not gonna elaborate on them much but here are the ideas in more bullet points (yay):

Law gets familiar with all four horsemen of the apocalypse: conquest, war, famine, and death. He even survives them.

Law is like the son in the parable of the prodigal son to the Donquixote pirates. Except the themes are inverted.

Doflamingo and Rocinante -> Cain and Abel

Ope Ope no Mi -> Granting eternal life by sacrificing one's own life

Gods descending or living among humans. Also, Homing and his family being prosecuted for other people's sins.

That scene where they were hanged by their arms outstretched looks like a crucifixion. Also, Rocinante was on the right while Doflamingo was on the left. Similar to how the penitent thief was on the right and the unrepentant one to the left.

Flevance being considered a paradise with walls/fences/gates and somewhere Law cannot return to.

In the panel where the Donquixote pirates are seated at the table, there were thirteen of them with Doffy at the center. Same as The Last Supper

There are a lot more of these (David and Goliath, Solomon, Jonah, Job, etc.) but I kinda lost the notes and some are more visual so I can't really explain it too well. This would is a drabble series to emphasize or highlight the parallels so no proper snippet for this one.

---------------------------------o

Law is a substitute kindergarten teacher

Originally an idea to get around most of the Heart Pirates being nameless but evolved to include other characters as kids. Chopper is a kindergarten teacher and he convinces Law to take over his class for a week because somehow Law has the qualifications to and free time. Naturally, he wasn't able to say no.

Unfortunately, despite not being terrible at handling children, Chopper's class is filled with menaces. Also, despite not being terrible, Law can still be awkward so...

"Mr. Trofao–fargar—"

"Trafalgar."

The kid—which one was this one again? Shit, he should really get them name plates or something—scrunched up his face and tried harder, "Tar-pal—"

"Law. Just call me Law."

"Mr. Low"—eh, close enough—"can I go to the bathroom?" Wide imploring eyes stared up at him.

"Sure, go ahead." Law gestured towards the exit of the classroom with his head.

The kid just stared expectantly at him and he tried to suppress the need to narrow his eyes.

"Is there… anything else?"

"Mr. Chopper always comes with me to hold my hand."

Really?

"Mr. Chopper isn't here. You should practice doing it on your own now." He said after a deep inhale.

"But the monsters might get me…"

"No, they won't."

"You don't know that."

"I do." Before the kid could open his mouth again to argue, he added, "Besides, children taste terrible so you're safe."

The kid looked stricken and took a step back from him. Uh oh. Glistening eyes, wobbling lower lip… "Alright! I'll go with you." The kid did not look reassured. In fact he looked like going alone with Law was the last thing he wanted to do. Guess, he kinda implied that he ate children didn't he? Oops.

Well, the kid needs to go and he's not going to be cleaning up after him if he wets himself.

Law glanced at the rest of the children. It was Arts and Craft time and they seemed preoccupied enough. Still, Law doubted Chopper ever left these kids alone–already he could see some of them glancing up at him, waiting for him to leave no doubt to cause trouble. That Monkey kid in particular looked extremely suspicious.

He stood up from his crouch and clapped twice to get everyone's attention.

"Alright. Fall in line. Single file."

There was some grumbling and questioning directed at him. "What's going on?"

Law shrugged. "You're all going to the bathroom."

---------------------------------o

Shichibukai Application Forms

Crackfic where the World Government and relevant parties review various Shichbukai Applications. Most submitted by the pirates applying themselves, some produced by their own staff. They discuss and debate. As well as judge pirate resumes.

She scanned the document. Terrible format, really. If you fail to impress within the first page, you've failed entirely. There just wasn't anyone promising enough in this batch of applications or any of the other ones before. The last one had been that clown. "Apprentice to the Pirate King," was a pretty hefty credential.

"Oh, how about this one? Three years experience pillaging, and they even listed all the towns they looted." One of the newly transferred administrative staff said.

"None of these are worth considering at all. You know, when Mihawk was asked to submit his application, he hadn't bothered with all of this. He just sent us a card with his name on it and the title "World's Strongest Swordsman," underneath."

The staff perked up. "Oh, there was an application like that." There was scramble and some shuffling before a plain white card was produced. "Here."

"'From Trafalgar Law'. What does this even mean?"

"Well, it did come with a big box..."

---------------------------------o

Reverse Hanahaki Disease

(?? do u spit out flowers when your nemesis walks by?)

Haha. At first it was going to be that way (because it is hilarious) but the inflicted would probably choke to death too soon. Or if both enemies had it, they'd end up just coughing flowers at each other until they stopped being enemies.

The version I ended up going with was that this variant of Hanahaki, instead of afflicting those with unrequited love, affected those in denial instead. The reverse part comes from the original idea that this would usually happen if you somehow fell in love with your nemesis (someone you originally hated). So it's not the thought that the other person can't love you, it's that you can't accept that you love that other person. You get cured by confessing to the person sincerely.

This is actually another KidLaw (surprise!). And the flower coughed up directly represents the person they're in love with (I went with Oda's flower representation for them because I found it funny for plot)

So the idea is that, you get sick but you don't automatically know (maybe) who it is because that's part of being in denial. Kid and Law have many enemies after all. In this story they both get it though not exactly at the same time and not known to the other.

He survived Amber Lead Syndrome only to be killed off by a stupid flower disease that apparently knows more about his own feelings than he does.

He glared at the petals. Tulips. Red.

An image of a cocky grin and a shock of red hair flashed through his mind and—nope. That's not right.

He coughed harder, tears stinging his eyes with the effort. More flowers. Now he has enough for a bouquet.

Alright, he was a doctor. He could do this. Differential time.

First, which variant does he have. He doesn't particularly feel unloved or hopeless. There wasn't anyone he wanted in particular to love him. Ok, nothing. It was maybe safe to say he had that other variant.

Which was stupid because Law had many enemies and he hated all of them.

And cue the racking coughs. More red. He was very familiar with that particular shade.

New theory. This was a new variant that somehow makes you sick when you think of the person you hated the most.

Yes, that had to be it. He thought as he all but collapsed on the floor from the sudden paroxysm.

I knew this was gonna get long. :) Oh well...

Thank you for playing. :D

#One Piece #One piece fanfiction #wip game #trafalgar law #donquixote brothers #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote roci #donquixote homing #donquixote pirates #one piece bellamy #bellamy the hyena #eustass kid #kidlaw #trafalgar d water law

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springsteenicious · 3 years

Note

Okay, since you said I can send you a prompt...

Maybe Jackie telling Hyde she's pregnant with their first kid? I always thought she would find a creative way to tell him if the baby was planned. I would love to see Hyde and Jackie giving the news to Red and Kitty too, it would surely be a very mood lifting fic.

I spent the last 10 minutes trying to come up with a prompt, and it was a relief. Because I spent the whole day scared, and trying to come up with a prompt for you was literally so relaxing that I even feel like I can breathe better now lol

That's it, thank you so much for this ❤

No problem, I love writing cute little one-shots and stuff! I'm glad to help out in any way I can. Covid sucks, so I'm more than happy to help you relax and get your mind off of it.

((Also, hypothetically, if you were to send me an ask with the title of one of my WIP fics, I would give you a little snippet if you wanted...))

Anyway, enjoy this cute little ficlet :D

Point Place, Wisconsin The Hyde Residence 1985

Jackie tied the end of the large banner above her and Steven's bed. It was the final part of her plan to reveal her news to Steven. She left their bedroom once she finished and went downstairs to their living room.

As she sat down on the couch, a feeling of complete happiness settled inside her. She was sitting in the house that she shared with Steven, in the living room she had designed, pictures of them on their wedding day hanging on the wall. It had taken a while, but she and Steven were happily married and had been for a little over four years.

After Steven married that stripper from Las Vegas, Jackie had thought all hope was lost for them. But he had spent months making it up to her and asking for forgiveness once Sam was gone. Jackie had stood her ground at first and she hadn't accepted any kind of apology from him. But he hadn't given up. He continued to prove to her how much he loved her, and eventually she couldn't deny her love for him.

Now, five years later, all was well. And it seemed like it would get even better.

Jackie hopped up from the couch as the door opened. Steven was home from work, finally. She met him at the door. "Hi, Puddin!"

"Hey, doll. How was your day?"

"It was great! And I bet I can make your day even better…" She took his hand and started to tug him upstairs.

He raised an eyebrow, but a smile was working its way onto his face. "Yeah? How?"

"It's in the bedroom."

"Uh-huh…"

Jackie stood with her back against their closed bedroom door. "It has something to do with that thing we've been talking about the past month… And trying to do…"

"Yeah…"

She grinned and opened the door, extending her arm to show off the room. It was filled with colored balloons that she'd blown up with a pump, and streamers hung from the ceiling, not obscuring the banner, which Steven read out loud.

"We're having a baby?" He grinned at her. "Really?"

"Yeah! I'm pregnant!"

He laughed happily and hugged her, lifting her off the ground a little. She wrapped her arms around him snugly. "I love you," he said into her hair.

"I love you too."

He put her down and pulled back just enough to look at her. He looked so incredibly happy that she giggled, unable to contain her own joy. "We're having a baby," he said, like it was too good to be true. "You know, before you, I never thought I would ever have kids. I never really thought about it. But I'm actually really looking forward to doing this whole parenting thing with you."

"I'm really excited too. I think we're gonna be great parents."

He kissed her quickly. "Yeah, I think we are."

"Steven, Jackie, you're here!" Mrs. Forman excitedly greeted them at the sliding door. Red was sitting at the kitchen table with Donna and Forman.

"Hey, Mrs. Forman," Hyde said. She hugged him, keeping it brief, which Hyde was grateful for. "We brought cookies. Jackie made them."

"You brought burnt cookies?" Forman asked.

"No," Jackie said. "Steven taught me how to make them and he made sure they came out of the oven in time."

"Really? I feel like Hyde would be more distracting for you," Forman said.

"Kitty, why did we have to have this dinner? I don't want to listen to Eric being rude to Jackie," Red complained.

Jackie grinned at Forman, who frowned. Mrs. Forman gave Red a look and said, "We are having a nice family dinner. It's still a family dinner even if Laurie couldn't make it. So be quiet and enjoy this quality time with our sons and daughters-in-law."

Red frowned. "Fine."

Mrs. Forman smiled. "Now, why don't we all go to the dining room and I'll get everyone's plates ready?"

Hyde sat next to Jackie on one side of the table, Forman and Donna across from them. Red and Mrs. Forman took the ends of the table. Mrs. Forman smiled as everyone started eating. "So, what's new with my favorite bunch of kids?"

"I got my first article published in a magazine," Donna said.

"That's great, Donna," Red said. "What was it on?"

"I interviewed a local band. It was really interesting to talk to them about their inspirations and everything." Donna was practically glowing with pride. Forman was looking at her like she was the only woman in the world.

"And Eric? What have you been doing?" Red asked, clearly expecting a much less accomplished answer.

"I applied for a student teacher position at the elementary school," Forman said.

"That's great!" Mrs. Forman exclaimed. "Oh, you are going to be such a good teacher, sweetie." She turned to Hyde and Jackie. "How about you two?"

"Well…" Hyde looked at Jackie.

She grinned and said, "I'm pregnant!"

Mrs. Forman laughed loudly. "That's wonderful! I'm going to be a grandma! Oh, oh, I should take up knitting again. I could make little baby blankets!"

"Congratulations, you two," Red said, with a small smile of approval.

Forman gasped. "You know what this means? This child is going to be the Antichrist."

"Shut up, dillhole," Hyde said.

"Eric, stop it," Mrs. Forman said. "Steven is a good boy and Jackie is a sweet young lady. They are going to have a wonderful child."

Hyde looked at Jackie, who was smiling softly. He believed Mrs. Forman's words completely; they would have a wonderful child.

#ficlet #that 70s show #steven hyde #jackie burkhart #hyde x jackie #jackie x hyde #zenmasters

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Text

we are our family, even if we don’t want to be.

Titans 3.07

a bit over halfway through the season, and we still don’t have all of our main characters on the board! i love this show.

as always, typing this up as i watch. live reaction, baby! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. i don’t think i’ve mentioned this before, but i kinda miss the old ‘dc universe’ intro. it was cool! the whole idea of it was wild and waaaaay over-ambitious, but also very very on-brand because of it.

2. this is... the third time we’ve seen dick sleeping this season? that’s a record! checking another thing off my s3 wishlist...

2.5. i guess i rag on titans all the time for its wafer-thin plotting and bad pacing, but i have to admit that this season has been a step-up from the last one in this regard. titans has very reactive rather than proactive protagonists, and a lot of the last season seemed to be: x happened, the team reacted badly, then y happened, they reacted badly, etc. this time around, it’s not a huge leap up by any means, but at least they’re doing something about it.

i do appreciate the focus on character arcs over everything else. and when i say everything else, i mean it: arcs that started two seasons ago with no big cathartic moments, intermittent payoff and multiple relapses. big bads have ranged from interdimensional demons to superpowered assassins to whatever in the world scarecrow is, but trigon’s big weapon against the titans was to... use their worst fears against them. slade’s was to... use their fears to break them up. crane’s is to... use red hood to use their fears to break them up. even the threat of gotham’s citizens being in danger doesn’t feel real: gotham is mythologised into an entity of its own, infecting our heroes like a parasite. like. this is not to say that most other superhero media aren’t big character arcs intertwined with the main plot, but titans doesn’t even make pretend that it’s anything but.

anyway. that’s my entry #2345 to ‘give a grand unifying theory for titans’. thanks. i’ll be back with more.

3. “anger is just fear in a little black dress.” god I HATE HIM

(what’s he doing with barbara’s likeness? oh... oh god. a terrible thought just occurred to me. what if they introduce hush at the very last minute for plastic surgery shenanigans? would you put it past this show?)

3.5. jason, nooooooooo

3.75. i mean, they’re making it very clear here that scarecrow is the one in control--the one who’s always been in control--and is manipulating jason and literally poisoning him, but i hope it doesn’t end up erasing nuance or jason’s autonomy. if jason’s to reckon with the issues that brought him here, then the lines of responsibility will need to be set somewhere.

(this applies to dick as well but more on that later, i guess.)

4. just--the phrase “40% loss of income” is so funny to me. like, gotham is full of these larger-than-life characters who are idiosyncratic beyond belief, colourful and dramatic and creating chaos just for the sake of chaos, and then there’s the regular criminals and their henchmen who just want to make a quick buck sitting down with pie charts and graphs, griping about the joker reducing their returns or debating high risk investments in, i don’t know, two-face’s next scheme.

“yyyyeeeeeaaah, my financial advisor is telling me that going all-in with a guy who literally makes decisions on the flip of a coin is probably not the greatest idea.”

4.5. god i hate smug!smarmy!scarecrow so much

4.85. as big plans to “control” gotham go, it’s pretty bog-standard. clearly scarecrow has some bigger plan in mind but it really feels like we’ve got no clear insight into him and he’s this generic creepy mystery-man who knows more than he lets on and springs a twist/cliffhanger every now and then. i liked the scenes with him and dick in 3.04 where it seemed like he was genuinely on the backfoot and things weren’t going as he predicted. for all of his faults, dick is at least familiar with scarecrow’s bullshit and knows not to give what he wants.

5. i mean... i see where dick is coming from with the “he’s not jason anymore; he’s red hood” because his immediate glaring concern is scarecrow’s drug and the damage it could potentially cause gotham? i do not doubt that it’s something batman drilled into him, too, but when you’re expected to take point on a situation where the lives of an entire city weigh down on your shoulders, it’s better to simplify things and prioritise. i’m not saying it’s great or healthy! gar is absolutely right to consider this facet of the situation. it’s just dick can’t.

6. hmmmmmmm. HMMMMMMMMMMM.

i don’t know that i’m super fond of this iteration of oracle???? it looks like a cross between cerebro from x-men and jarvis from iron man. it’s giving me second-hand embarrassment. somebody help me.

(at least they remembered dick’s middle name is actually “john”. i like to think bruce printed D in that contract because for a while he genuinely thought richard “dick” grayson was his full name. duck duck goose, dick dick grayson, i don’t know alfred, the kid was in a circus, maybe they thought it was funny. or maybe it was a test in anger control, who knows.)

6.5 “maybe you two would like some time alone?” even AI can’t help hitting on dick grayson in this universe.

“oh mr grayson, if i only had another eye to see you better...”

6.8. on one hand, it’s a bit disconcerting that the title of ‘oracle’ has gone from barbara herself to this gigantic machine; from my impression of the comics-verse, barbara had an extensive computing and surveillance system, true, but she was very clearly the brains behind the operation. on the other hand, i’m kind of glad that the ethical boundaries that this kind of surveillance violates is a sticking point for barbara. (tho let’s be real, the nsa would kill to have this in their arsenal).

6.9. also it’s now obvious that scarecrow’s big plan is to take control of oracle itself. it’s why he had lady vic take that picture of her eyes, or why he’s meddling around with it on his computer.

6.95. if only i could ‘command sleep’ anybody overstepping their boundaries re: personal information...

7. “you can just sit back and watch as the titans destroy themselves.” i mean... he’s not wrong

8. “dick’s parents were killed by a criminal mob; he won’t work with them.” it’s wonderful that you have this insight into dick, kory, i just wish we could’ve watched some of these conversations actually happen on-screen.

8.5. i’m glad that kom’s being treated with such nuance and understanding, though it’s obvious that she definitely has a Plan of her own. (and did i entirely imagine her ability to mimic other people flawlessly at the end of s2? or is that going to come into play at some point?) i think her story has the potential to be genuinely poignant, and in a universe where being Different, either because of mental health or physical differences or whatever else, leads a straight line to Evil, it’s important to acknowledge and then emphasise that the mere fact of your existence as a Different Person doesn’t predispose you to evil. maybe your act of destroying a system that has destroyed you and not scrambling to “fit in” is only evil as defined by that system.

8.8. “you’re trespassing, i should call the authorities, i feel unsafe.” now this is a villain lady who’s definitely aware of her privilege.

8.85. kom smirking knowingly at her sister is everything.

“oooh that’s the kory i remember”

9. conner and dick working together woo!

9.25. god i hate a villain who’s always just a step ahead, no matter what. so crane anticipated dick using oracle to track his personal communications and set him up? how did he know when exactly dick would get to do this? how long did he have that poor man tied up in that van?

(the “save me, grayson” is a nice touch, tho. send dick spiralling even further! because if there’s one thing dick will do, it’s take responsibility for every goddamn thing that goes wrong.)

9.5. ahem. i’m going to need a million gifs of conner yeeting dick across that yard, fandom, thankyouverymuch.

(i understand conner is invulnerable to explosions, but how do his clothes survive??)

9.8. oooh crane is already in oracle! i’m just sitting here laughing helplessly because they’re overpowering this goddamned guy so much. he can build a lab in arkham’s basement! he has access to lazarus puddles! he has minions working across gotham, including a fully functional chemical laboratory staffed by chemists who only answer to him! he has the crime families of gotham quailing in his very presence! he has assassins at his beck and call! he’s enough of a manipulative bastard to have red hood under his thumb! and now he has enough of a tech know-how to not only be aware of oracle, but know how to hack into it! i’m sick of exclamation marks! i’ll shut up now!

9.95. dick leaving behind that smouldering grave for a person he failed to save without taking a second to process how he feels about it and running towards his next plan to corner scarecrow: a microcosm of where his head’s at right now.

10. really hammering in the themes of this season, aren’t we.

10.25. the interesting thing is the titans repeatedly call themselves a family this season (none more so than dick) and while that found family has helped encapsulate and put away their traumatic experiences with their ‘original’ families, it’s meant that they’ve not really dealt with those issues. and dick and gar and jason come from ‘found families’ of their own: they are twice removed, traumatised two times over. they still cling to this identity however, and because of it they’re losing each other. a family isn’t static. it’s an ever-evolving dynamic and you have to put in work constantly to keep it healthy.

10.5. anyway, that’s entry #2346. i’m here aaaalll night.

11. lookit gar the detective! half-transforming and using his powers to deduce things! what a hero! i’ve said this for a long time, but gar is the bedrock of this team, and an unsung one at that.

11.25. i’m confused about him calling this room jason’s though. it seems to me that this is dick’s room that jason later used, and one that dick’s using now. so the unmade bed isn’t really jason’s fault; dick was woken by barbara that morning, and in his hurry, he left without making his bed.

(it still confounds me that bruce didn’t find jason another bedroom in that gigantic mansion of his. you really didn’t give this kid a chance, did you?)

12. oh well. so much for the oracle.

13. ... sorry, wait. you didn’t think i wasn’t going to address the bit with dick right now, did you?

12.5. i honestly don’t think it’s very complicated: dick’s been reeling from one traumatic thing to the next, and just when it seemed like at the beginning of the season, he felt happy and secure with his team and his place in the world, bruce ups and leaves gotham to him, specifically naming him a successor and calling him a ‘better batman’. he’s lost garth and jericho and donna and jason and now hank and dawn. he’s not even sure where rachel is or what she’s doing. after being told that batman was a psychopath for moulding him into a weapon, he’s also been told that his failure to be a ‘better batman’ lead to further disaster. of course he’s going to get batman-goggles. of course he’s going to be a prick.

12.8. i don’t know what to say. i feel his frustration acutely. i don’t think he should’ve said what he said to barbara (can people stop pushing her around this season????) but that pressure to step in where your parent fails? to clean up their messes and try to think like them? to fall into habits drilled into you when you developed them as coping mechanisms growing up? I FEEL THAT.

every step he’s taking he’s putting 110% of himself in it and scarecrow’s still playing mindgames with all of them: i absolutely feel his desperation to take control of that game and turn it on scarecrow, no matter what it takes.

and he did apologise almost immediately, and finally--finally--actually works with barbara.

12.9. again, not excusing him! but i get it. and i think that’s a sign of great character writing.

“did you know i just reminded emmram of all of her daddy issues? what the fuck????”

12.95. i love that dick&barbara, kory&kom, and gar are all approaching solving this mystery from different angles, each as valid as the other. also, conner is there as... emergency bomb defuser man?

13. it’s like all fancy rich people in fancy rich houses do is pour fancy rich alcohol into fancy rich glasses on pristine, untouched tabletops. i wonder what it’s like to live like that.

13.25. I KNEW IT! poor michael. it was nice knowing you.

13.5. man, kory is contending with a lot of issues that she’s successfully bottled up and compartmentalised until now. the cold reality that a child can seek out their parents as refuge and they can view the child as a piece to be moved in a greater game (never out of cruelty, though, never, and somehow that makes it worse), that truth of blackfire’s treatment on tamaran because she’s different, and her own culpability in what happened. she exchanged one family for another, after all, and left that family to die and her sister to suffer. like dick, like gar, kory’s being forced to reckon with what the titans are meant to be, the larger implications of creating their found family in their own space.

14. it’s probably because it’s one in the morning and i’ve had two glasses of wine but i did not follow that bit of exposition at all and victor freeze??? what?

anyway. look at them solving things! together! go team!

“you made a deal with the mob?” oh the sense of betrayal on his face! fuck off, dick, your issues aren’t kory’s.

15. conner is really sweet and a bit of an awestruck crush on kom is to be expected. especially after that power rangers-esque transformation (i say this as a former huge power rangers fangirl. i’ve seen every series until 2007 including the original japanese versions and written fanfic for all of them. so i love a cool costume transformation, is what i’m saying.)

also?

FUCK YEAH

16. i love the gotham crime families just chillin’ around eating ice cream. I LOVE THEM

16.5. that was a fun fight sequence, if marred slightly by that bit of awkward flirting between conner and kom. i wonder if she’s really planning to use him in a larger scheme to get kory back to tamaran, or maybe something else.

16.75. so i’m assuming that scarecrow has jason either so paralysed by fear that he can barely move, or jason’s withdrawing from the drug that he’s been sucking in every few minutes.

17. it’s nice to see them chill after a successful mission! and it can be awkward, but conner’s crush on kom and him striving to impress her is also, well, uh... cute.

17.5. i guess the dick/barbara scene was inevitable, especially given the... unresolved nature of their relationship in the flashbacks? and they’ve been through a rollercoaster together this episode, discovering and then destroying an incredible tool within a matter of hours, re-discovering just how well they work together as a team. dick’s swimming in the nostalgia. i don’t expect it to last as a long-term relationship, but i totally get why this is happening now. and hey, they’re cute!

i have a weeeirrrrd feeling that kory is going to leave to tamaran at the end of the season and that dick and kory will rekindle--or rather realise--their relationship just before that. it’s going to be devastating and beautiful and painful and i will be writing essays about it which would be me just wailing into the screen.

18. gar found molly!!!!!!! MOLLY’S BACK! \o/ gar is the BEST

19. that was a fun episode! i love this silly show, even if it does destroy me sometimes <3

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #barbara gordon #koriand'r #komand'r #garfield logan #jonathan crane #conner kent #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart

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greekowl87 · 3 years

Text

Fic: Embracing Parenthood 5/?

Get caught up: (1) | (2) | (3) (4) or AO3

A/N: I’ve been writing while trying to figure out my depression but it’s not as much as I would like. I finally got this done and have two other things I am working on. Looking at episodes 4-D and Lord of the Flies, I decided to consolidate this chapter and do a focus on “Lord of the Flies”. I’m still not 100% on the direction this will be taking. I borrowed lines from the episode so, just an fyi. I used the transcript from Inside the X. Bit of light smut at the end.

Tagging @baronessblixen @suitablyaggrieved @today-in-fic @improlificinsarcasm

After a few more months, they seemed to finally be hitting their stride. This new...whatever it was...took some getting used to for Mulder and Scully. Aside from the one time they caught William’s mobile spinning under its own accord, they had not caught anything else. Scully was fine with this and shut down any attempt Mulder made to bring it up. She kept telling herself that their son was just fine and normal like any other baby. After a couple of weeks, Mulder gave up. It became an unspoken agreement between them. Aside from this, things at the academy and x-files remained quiet.

Agent Reyes settled in an apartment in Foggy Bottom. A few x-files have been solved. Despite Agent Reyes’s claim of an interdimensional serial killer nearly ending his life, Doggett was still alive. Mulder and Scully settled into their teaching roles at the academy, William was growing in size, and they both were beginning to believe that they were getting that happy ending that they both deserved.

On a regular Wednesday afternoon, as Mulder graded quizzes in his office, he heard a light knocking at the door. “Come in,” he called looking up from his desks.

Scully smiled at him. “How’s the grading, Agent Mulder?”

“I want to know your secret,” he confessed. He held out his hand, offering a chair across from him. She surprised him instead by taking his hand, squeezing it, and kissed him deeply. “Well, hello to you too.”

“I like this, Scully.”

“I’m glad. I have to go to New Jersey though. Agents Doggett and Reyes need my medical opinion about a matter.”

“Do you need me to tag along?”

She didn’t answer his question. She sat in the chair across from him. “Teaching suits you, Mulder. Are you happy?”

“I can do without the grading,” he confided. “So, back to the case? Is this what...for an afternoon?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe. I’m sure it’s fairly straightforward. A teenager was found with half of the head collapsed in, and many flies came swarming out.”

“Flies? Is this a case of Lord of the Flies? Or Jeff Goldum’s The Fly?”

“Thankfully not. I just suspect something weird. However, I need to travel to New Jersey to lend a helping hand.”

“You never answered my question. Do you need me to tag along?”

“No. I’ve already called my mother to let her know. I’m taking a car from the pool and I’ll be stopping by the apartment before making my way to New Jersey.”

Mulder shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The suddenness of this news made him feel very uncomfortable. He did not have much time to sort through these new feelings as Scully continued. “It’s a three-hour drive from Washington. I’ll be spending the night up there. I should be back in a day or two.”

Mulder cleared his throat. “Just like that?”

She titled her head. “Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

“No,” he lied. He fiddled with the pen in front of him, rolling it back and forth on his desk. “I’ll pick up William from your mother.”

“It’s only for 48 hours,” she said.

“It’s not a big deal, Scully. Do you not have faith in me taking care of William?”

“I didn’t say that but you are pouting.”

“I’m not pouting. Look, I probably need a guy’s night anyway.”

“The Gunmen?” She asked.

“I was just thinking about me, Will, and Plan 9 From Outer Space. You know a guy’s night.”

“Maybe pick a less depressing film?”

“We’ll be fine, mom. Promise.” Scully arched her eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Promise, Scully. Nothing will go wrong.”

Her cellphone started to ring and she sighed, looking at the caller ID. “It’s Agent Doggett,” she sighed. She got up from her chair and hastily kissed his cheek as she left. “I’ll call you when I get there. Love you.”

“Love you too.” He replied, watching her retreating form.

As the emotions welled in his chest. Mulder pushed the rest of the ungraded quizzes to the side and began to search for movies. As a psychologist, he knew pushing his emotions aside and burying them was unhealthy. He and Scully spent seven years doing that. Unfortunately, he was no longer a bachelor and had a baby to worry about as well.

* * * * * *

Traffic was a beast in driving the length of I-95 to Quantico to drive the hour to Annapolis to Marget Scully’s house. Two accidents just added to Mulder’s sour mood. As he sat in traffic, he tried to distract himself by switching it to NPR and ultimately switched it off. As traffic inched towards Maryland, he finally identified and named just a few of the emotions that were swirling in his chest. Jealousy. Feelings of inadequacy. Sadness.

He sighed, finally sighting the exit to Mrs. Scully’s and signaled the right turn signal. As he pulled off, he was bitterly reminded of the initial shock and awe he felt coming back from the dead. He struggled to find this place in a Twilight Zone-like universe where he no longer had the x-files and had Scully seven months pregnant. They struggled to find their footing. Mulder remembered feeling left out and bitter that Scully had a new partner in Doggett. He didn’t necessarily dislike this man. He was a good agent, just like Scully had said, but he was the one investigating x-files with Scully. Mulder wasn’t. He didn’t mind Agent Reyes either. He liked her and thought her addition to the x-files office in place of Scully would help balance the skeptical Doggett. But that didn’t stop him from feeling jealous and left out.

As he slowed, pulling into a residential neighborhood, he saw Mrs. Scully’s white sedan in the driveway and the lights throughout the house. He jogged up the front steps and raised his hand to knock. Mrs. Scully opened the door before his knuckles could rap against the wood. “Fox, I’m glad to see you weren’t caught up in traffic too badly!”

“I still hit a couple of accidents, Mrs. Scully.” He forced a smile. “Were you expecting someone?”

“What? Oh, no! I saw your headlights in the driveway. Come in! I was just about to pull out dinner.”

“I couldn’t…” he stammered out of instinct.

“Nonsense. Besides, William will be very happy to see you.”

Oh yeah, he thought, I’m a father. “You need to get past the formalities, Fox. Don’t you think Maggie will do? You are the father to my grandson after all.” Mrs. Scully was already pulling on his hand, tugging him inside before he could put up a fight. “Besides, as much as I love my daughter, Dana does not know how to cook.”

“Actually, she’s quite good,” Mulder defended.

Mrs. Scully chuckled to herself. “What I meant is she doesn’t know how to cook for a family. I raised four children by myself for the most part when the Captain was at sea. Now that William is here, I’m not going to dismiss the possibility. Take off your shoes, Fox.”

Mulder slid off his polished Oxford shoes and loosened his tie. “The possibility of what?”

Maggie stopped and smiled. “Of what could be. Come on. I bet William will be excited to see you.”

Mulder followed Mrs. Scully into the kitchen and saw his son light up. William began to babble happily and stretch his arms for his father. He smiled and bent down to kiss his forehead. “I think he is going to have Scully’s eyes.”

“They might still turn brown. I don’t know, Fox. I think William is beginning to look like you. Have a seat. Do you want a beer with dinner?”

“Water would be fine.”

Mulder sat closest to William as Mrs. Scully served them. “William was fine today,” she said. “Dana called and let me know. If it is more convenient, I can come to Georgetown and watch William tomorrow if you want.”

Mulder nodded and replied, “I would appreciate that. I wish I could simply take the time off.”

Mrs. Scully played with her shepherd’s pie. And how are you feeling, Fox with Dana in New Jersey and you here?”

He was caught off guard with the question. “What do you mean?”

“Seven years you two were practically glued together. She would always answer your calls. Now you’re here and she's out in the field.” She paused. “I know you two had some difficulties when you came back.”

He chuckled hollowly. “Not every day you come back from the dead.”

“Exactly. She was alone for six months.”

“I didn’t leave her intentionally,” he defended quietly.

“I’m not saying that you did. I’m not my oldest son, Fox.”

“I’m that bad?”

“Worse than Dana,” she chuckled. “I know what it’s like to feel left behind and on the sidelines. I imagine you felt some sort of jealousy with Agent Doggett when you first met him?”

“I, uh, punched him in the jaw.”

Mrs. Scully nodded. “Dana mentioned something about that. The point is, Fox, I know what is like feeling out of the loop when your partner is out doing something. I felt the same way when Bill was out to sea and I was left to raise four kids of my own. He would joke that I was the admiral in the family.” She gave a small smile. “And you find yourself in a similar situation.”

“I guess so,” he whispered. He pushed his food around. “Even though we’re both teaching at the academy, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“You could always propose.”

William squealed eagerly and threw something across the table making Mulder jump. “Excuse me?”

Mrs. Scully shrugged. “I just figured after 8 years, a child, and sharing an apartment...it’s time you make it permanent, Fox.”

“I…”

She held up her hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just think about it. In the meantime, are you sure I can’t get you anything else right now?”

“Yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

As it neared 8 o’clock, Mulder gathered his son and Mrs. Scully piled leftovers into a brown grocery bag to walk him out. “I’ll be up by 10 tomorrow. What time will you be home?”

“About six,” he replied, shifting William in his arms. “Scully said she might be home by tomorrow.”

“Well, I’ll set one extra place at the table.”

Mulder, still feeling insecure, interrupted. “You don’t have to, Mrs. Scully. I can take care of William. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Nonsense,” she dismissed. “I love seeing my grandson.” She kissed Mulder’s cheek goodbye. “And I don’t do these things because I pity you or think you unworthy of Dana, Fox. I do it out of love for you and William. Now, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

As the door closed behind him and Mulder tucked William into his car seat, his thoughts became distracted yet again. Scully did need him, right? He hadn’t brushed aside. And what did Mrs. Scully insinuate with their dinner conversation?

* * * * * *

A few states away in Manahawkin, New Jersey, Scully retired from examining the half-collapsed head of “Captain Dare” and the persistent flirting of Dr. Rocky Bronzino earlier than she anticipated. She politely declined the dinner invitation from Agents Doggett and Reyes as well. She found her attention drifting towards various journal articles about the Spanish fly and their mating rituals. After a few hours, Scully abandoned her research.

She tried to take a bath and felt distracted. Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around the facts of the case. As she dressed for bed, she sleepily looked at the motel clock and saw it was nine o’clock. How could she have let time get away from her? Without a second thought, she found her cell and called the apartment’s landline. When there was no answer, she quickly called Mulder’s cell phone. He answered the third thing.

“Mulder,” he greeted automatically.

She could hear him hiding a yawn in his voice. “Mulder, it’s me,” she spoke softly. “Did I catch you at a bad moment?”

“No,” he sighed. “I just put William to bed. A late bath, a lot of crying, and a partially read bedtime story and he is down for the count. He misses you terribly.”

“I bet,” she said. Scully shifted the files around. “And what about you?”

“What about me?” He yawned again.

“How are you?”

“Tired,” he admitted simply. “And very much missing you. Your bed is too big without you. But never mind me. Tell me about the case?”

“I am dealing with a human head half-collapsed in with flies exploding it before I arrived. Agents Doggett and Reyes are chasing down a teenager suspect.”

“Oh,” he hummed. “Bugs. Is this like those teenagers from Pittsfield, Virginia, Scully?”

“Not at all,” she said. “I’m not entirely sure if this is an x-file yet. I mean it has bugs. It’s all about the bugs, Mulder.”

“Washington state. One of our first cases.”

“Well, no one has been found cocooned in the web.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” she repeated. Scully sighed and looked at the empty side of the motel bed. “I should be done by tomorrow evening. Hey, we have the weekend at least. One perk of teaching at the academy: normal 9-5 jobs.”

“Unless you get called away on another case.” Scully could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. “But yeah, I’ll look forward to it.”

“Mulder, are you okay?”

She could hear the phone shifting on his end. “Hm? Yeah. I was just getting the blankets pulled down. I thought about putting William in the bassinet but I guess he needs to learn about sleeping in his room.”

Scully groaned inwardly. “You’re not helping,” she told him.

“What did I do?”

There was a weariness in his voice she could not place. “Mulder, what’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing, nothing. Everything is okay. I’m handling it just fine.”

She heard his voice rise defensively and the baby crying in the background. “Look, Scully. I’m going to check on William. I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Okay but…” Mulder hung up the phone before Scully had a chance to reply. “Great.”

Scully looked back at the clock, wondering if she should call her partner back. She felt hurt about the shortness in her voice. What had happened? Did her mother say something to Mulder? Did she do something? Did something else happen to William that he wasn’t telling her? In the end, she decided not to call him back lest she wake the baby again and cause Mulder to lose any sleep. As she settled in the motel bed, she turned onto her side and swept her arm up and down the empty side. She missed being away from him and their son.

Three hours away in Georgetown, Mulder, unable to sleep found himself on the couch in front of the television. William held contently against his chest. William sleepily watched his father as Mulder settled on TCM for a black and white horror film. A small gurgling brought Mulder’s attention back to his son. “We’ll just keep daddy sleeping on the couch a secret from mom,” he said.

William yawned and twisted his head towards Mulder’s chest. “Well, the important thing is that you’re comfortable,” Mulder continued. “You’re just like your mother; she can sleep anywhere too. I think her favorite place is to fall asleep on me.”

He shifted his attention back to the television and then back at his son. “I can’t help but feel forgotten,” he confessed to William. “I mean, your mom was all by herself when she found out she was pregnant with you and I was abducted. She got a new partner.” Mulder thought of Doggett’s straight-laced demeanor. “He is just the opposite of what I expected. And of course, I am jealous of him. He was the one watching Scully’s back because I ran off to chase down a damn UFO. Look at what that got me, Will. Six feet under.” He looked down at his son. “Does that make me a bad person?”

William met him with silence.

“Well, I value your opinion so don’t hold back,” he told the baby. More silence except for a sleepy blink. “I think that is why I was so distant tonight. I’m jealous. I’m upset. I feel left behind.” Mulder watched his son grow sleepier. He had Scully’s blue eyes. “I feel like she’s moved on without me. I have since I came back. Even with you and all your glory, bud, I still feel inadequate.” William grabbed a fistful of Mulder’s t-shirt as his eyes grew heavier. “Are you trying to reassure me?” Mulder chuckled slightly. “I wish I could tell Scully how I felt.”

One day, he promised himself. As William drifted off to sleep, Mulder found himself wide awake still, his thoughts going to Scully and the bitterness he felt over the fact she was out in the field and he felt left behind.

* * * * *

Back in New Jersey, Scully left the motel to head straight to the medical examiner’s office. Agents Doggett and Reyes had texted her that they were going to follow up with some matters at the high school before meeting her at the medical examiner. On her way there, Scully tried to call Mulder again first at his office and then his cell. This was the second time since last night that he hadn’t answered his phone. Trying to dismiss the growing insecurities into the back of her mind, she tried to focus on the case instead. As Scully strolled into the main medical lab, it was much to her dismay that Dr. Bronzino was waiting for her.

“Dr. Scully,” the overly tanned scientist greeted. “How are you this fine morning?”

“Well,” she greeted with some reserve. “Have Agents Doggett and Reyes arrived yet?”

“Not at all! But I’ve been examining the flies that exploded from that young man’s skull. It’s quite fascinating really. Being a forensic pathologist, you might find this particularly interesting. Have you ever heard of the coffins fly?”

Scully took a step back and forced a smile. “I can’t say I have.”

“Well, they’re amazing creatures. A female coffin fly has been known to bury its way through over two meters of dirt just to lay its eggs on the cadaver. That is the equivalent of a human digging two miles into the ground.” He flashed her a dazzling smile of whitened teeth. “Isn’t it amazing of the lengths one will go to procreate?”

“Fascinating,” she replied quickly, “but what does this have to do with the victim?”

“Oh,” the entomologist exclaimed, “all the flies that came for the young victim’s head were female. There is probably nothing to it but isn't it fascinating?”

Scully’s mind was already firing and meaning connections. “It is. And it could be nothing or it could mean everything. Did you set any aside for the examination?”

Dr. Bronzino waved to the other end of the room where the microscope was. “I was going to prepare some samples to examine.”

She moved towards the microscope. “Why don’t I start on that and you do whatever it is that you are doing, Dr. Bronzino”

“Excellent suggestion, Dr. Scully! Divide and conquer! I like the sound of that!”

“I’m sure,” she answered.

“Which reminds me. I’m going to run back to my lab real quickly to gather another instrument of my invention. I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” she said.

Scully was secretly glad to see him retreat as she set to work. She laid out her research of flies that she had started the night before and her morning coffee. She paused, trying to collect her thoughts before she delved into the day’s work, however, she couldn’t. Her thoughts kept going back to the abrupt conversation that she had with Mulder the night before. He sounded distant and aloof. She was reminded of his jealousy when he came back from the dead. She found her phone and dialed his office at Quantico. At nine a.m., he should have been strolling right then. However, it went straight to messages. She hung up before she could leave one. Growing disgruntled, Scully called the Georgetown apartment. To her surprise, it was her mother that answered.

“Hello?” Her mother answered.

“Hi, mom,” she greeted quickly. “What are you doing at the apartment?”

“Oh, I thought I would save Fox driving to drop off William with me this morning,” she said. “One less hassle to do. I also picked you and Fox up some groceries that you desperately needed.”

“We were fine,” she said. “Where is Mulder? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” her mom replied vaguely. “I found him sleeping on the couch last night with the tv on. William must have kept him up all night.”

She felt a twinge of regret twist her heart. “Is he okay?”

“I guess so. He seemed fine and left for the office with no issue. Why? Is there something that I should be aware of?”

“No, no,” Scully said. She pushed the thoughts of insecurity deep down. Now was not the time. “He seemed distracted last night. We only chatted briefly. Is William okay?”

“He’s a fat, happy baby who can sleep through anything. Just like you were. I’m here until Fox comes home if you need anything. Do you want me to tell Fox that you called?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine.”

Her mother was silent on the other end. “Well, if you do need anything, Dana, I’m here with William. Love you.”

“Love you too, mom.”

She hung up her phone and tried to ignore the new signs that taunted her. Nothing was fine except she was not going to say anything. Scully sat at the microscope and began to work.

A couple of hours later, Dr. Rocky Bronzino rejoined her with a crude-looking invention to he promised to give a giant break in the case. She half-listened to ramble on about the various mating rituals of insects until she noticed a pattern emerging with the insects. It took Bronzino to confirm her suspicions and identify the peculiar fact about the case. As she continued to examine the flys, at a quarter till noon, Agents Reyes and Doggett walked in. Scully looked at both of them and announced, “I’m glad you’re here. I think we just got our first real break in the case.”

“What did you find?” Reyes asked.

“Well, it's what the entomologist Rocky Bronzino found. The flies that ate at the brain and skull of the victim are all female. Every last one of them.” Scully motioned to a fly under the microscope as she spoke.

Doggett looked towards Monica Reyes and asked, “Exactly how is that a break”

Scully thought for a moment and answered, “Well, what are the chances of that?”

Agent Reyes clarified, “You mean that the absence of males suggests there's a reason for the attack. Behaviourally.”

“Well, something biological is going on. Whether it's hormonal or chemical something has caused these bugs to attack,” Scully theorized.

Doggett added, “Or a need to express themselves.”

Scully asked, “To what?”

Agent Doggett continued, “This is a kid that calls himself "Sky Commander Winky." Agent Reyes and I were interviewing him as a suspect when this happened.” He showed photos of the victim’s back were the words ‘DUMB ASS’ shined a bright, red welt. “The paramedics arrived and treated him for an aggressive attack of bodily lice.”

She took the photos to examine them closer. “Hmm. Lice are not altogether uncommon in a school environment.”

Doggett snorted. “Except that these are better spellers than most of the kids.”

“Maybe they stayed late for after-school lessons,” she snorted. “So what are you saying? That this is just another dumb ass stunt?”

Reyes interjected, “Well, that was my first thought. But the victim here was just too freaked out by this incident to make me believe he'd staged this. Which leads me to think that while you may be right about this being a matter of biology, someone is directing the biology.” She paused. “Maybe you might want to consult Mulder?”

“Why?” Doggett asked. “These are bugs we are talking about.”

“And how does one direct bugs?” She added.

Reyes shrugged and replied, “I don't know how but we've been running down a long list of witnesses.” She passed Scully the rest of the photographs. “A loner who was present at every dumb ass stunt and who had a run-in with this kid Winky at school just prior to the lice attacking. His name is Dylan Lokensgard. We're going to want to talk to him.”

“He seems like a promising start,” Scully replied. “Dr. Bronzino should be back soon. He promised to bring a piece of equipment that will help break the case.”

“We’ll be back then. Call us if you have anything. Let’s head back, Monica.”

“I’ll call you when I have something,” Scully replied.

She watched the two agents retreating. She glanced at the clock on the wall and did the math in her head. She probably wasn’t going to be home that evening that she had promised.

* * * * * *

Having Mrs. Scully watch William in Georgetown instead of Maryland was a bigger relief than Mulder had realized. Although he hit traffic on the way to Quantico, the extra hour of not driving had put him in a somewhat fairer mood. However, as the morning dragged on and he did not hear anything from Scully began to sour his fair mood. By lunch, he was mad. Well not mad, but pouting and being gloomy. If Scully were here, she would have chewed him out and told him to pull his head out of his ass. But that was just it. Scully wasn’t here to do that.

As noon droned on, Mulder heard a light knocking at his door and looked up with some surprise to see A.D. Skinner standing in the doorway. “Wow, Mulder. Even having an office out of the basement and looking depressed as hell.”

“And it’s good to see you too, sir.” Mulder rose to greet the man and offered his hand. “I suspect you did not come down to comment on my office.”

“No.” Skinner paused. “I had a meeting I needed to attend. I wanted to check in on you and see how things were. You know, just to see if you threaten to burn down the establishment yet.”

“Haha,” Mulder said lamely. “No. Things are normal. Just perfectly normal.”

“And you are a terrible liar. Why don’t you come to lunch, Mulder? Get your head out of your ass and get some fresh air.”

“I’m fine where I am,” he said.

“And I know you well enough to know when you’re lying. You’re jealous aren’t you?”

“About what?”

“I know Scully’s out in the field,” Skinner stated, “and you’re not.”

“Way to rub it in.” Mulder glanced at his computer clock and relented. “Fine, fine. It isn’t like I have anything else to do today.”

“Good. You could use the distraction.”

. . . . . .

Back in New Jersey, Doggett and Reyes were still canvassing the school looking for more witnesses, Scully found herself out in the streets with the brazen etymologist, Dr. Rocky Bronzino. His continued efforts of flirting with her wearing down on her last nerves. She surveyed the empty street and how idyllic it reminded her. Dr. Bronzino focused on the tool he had brought from his lap that was designed to help them. He took a step back from the tracker to examine the surroundings.

“So many flowers ... so little time,” he murmured

Scully looked up from the trunk of the Land Rover. “Excuse me?”

The etymologist stated excitedly. “Pheromones, Dr. Scully. Heavy in the air. Nature's natural attractions. Driving the insect world to go forth and pollinate.”

As Dr. Bronzino began to advance on her, she took a few steps back. She shifted her gaze to the device he had brought with him. “I'm aware of how pheromones work. But according to this device, there isn't a single pheromone to be found out here.”

He began to tweak his machine and Scully rolled her eyes, looking back up to the sky. She smirked, remembering the time she was with Mulder when frogs rained from the sky. Dr. Bronzino was growing frustrated. “Well, that can't be right. The biosensor uses an actual fly antenna over which the pheromones pass. But I modified the EAG to measure in picograms which makes it sensitive to traces a mile in any direction.”

Scully watched an overly casual Rocky lean against the car, a confident hand on his hip, as he tried to charm her. Scully tried to remain professional and keep them on track. “But I'm still not sure why you think that pheromones might cause an otherwise harmless fly to attack a human so violently, Doctor…”

“Rocky,” he corrected. His whitened teeth shined as brightly as he flirted with her.

“Rocky,” she repeated

He smiled, thinking his charm was working. “Bugs are small-minded creatures, and therefore very predictable. They don't have moods. They react to circumstance and stimuli as they have been doing for millennia.”

“How wonderful.” She tried to keep it professional. “So what do you suppose they're reacting to out here?”

Dr. Bronzino puffed out his chest like a mating dove and took a few steps forward. “It may be the bugs are being somehow driven crazy with desire. You know, they say we humans respond to pheromones, too.”

Scully put her hands on her hips, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah, I tend to agree with that, yeah.”

Rocky pressed on. “‘Women's dormitory syndrome.’ It's believed that pheromones are the reason that women who live together share the same menstrual cycle.”

“Fascinating,” she deadpanned.

Dr. Bronzino felt emboldened. “You know, when a male and female calliphorid fly mate they stay joined for up to one and a half hours. One and a half, doctor.” He punctuated the last few words for emphasis. “What do you think of that?”

Scully stood unfazed. This was not the first time she had to deal with this, however, this time was different. “You know, Rocky ... I'm a mother.”

He arched an eyebrow, not dissuaded. He looked at her left hand. “Mothers are women, too.” He took a moment to look at Scully surveying her. “I noticed a lack of a ring. And what does it matters? Women have biological needs, just like men do.”

“You are drawing dangerous conclusions without lack of evidence, doctor.”

“Well, as a trained scientist, I observe you are a woman. There is no ring on your finger to denote a marriage or a serious relationship in what we consider legally.”

“I can assure you that I am very serious. I am in a committed, nine-year relationship with the baby’s father.”

“Well, he is not here. You are.”

“Doesn’t matter, Rocky. Let’s keep focused here, please.”

“Well, relationships aren’t known to be monogamous,” he countered.

“Seahorses, macaroni penguins, gray wolves, barn owls, and bald eagles,” she said.

“What do those animals have to do with relationships?”

“If you were a real scientist,” she pressed, “you would be aware of some of the animal species that are known to mate for life. There are some cracks in your argument. ”

“Well, there are numerous insects that perform a variety of mating rituals. Give it time, Dr. Scully and I’ll win you over.” She was about to reply but was interrupted by the beeping of the pheromone bio-sensor. Dr. Bronzino turned excitedly to the machine. “Big hit!”

“What is it?”

“A high concentration of c-13 calliphorone...incoming.” He looked up at the sky. Scully did the same and heard the beeping increase and then suddenly dissipate. “What? What happened?” He quickly went to check his machine.

“Nothing, apparently,” Scully commented drily. “We should get back to the lab. Agents Doggett and Reyes might have something for us there.”

“Are we going to continue our discussion of animal mating and ritual habits?” He asked, his voice heavily laced with innuendo.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s done.”

“Dr. Scully, are you blushing? As the great Charles Darwin once said, ‘Blushing is the most peculiar and most human of all expressions.’”

“Don’t make me shoot you,” she sighed.

“I consider it a challenge.”

. . . . . .

“How do you like teaching at the academy,” Skinner asked. He watched Mulder use his plastic fork to push the mac and cheese around on his plate. “Mulder?”

“Um, interesting. A lot better than having to deal with the profiling cases in VCU even though I’m sure I will come calling. That’s part of the deal with teaching? We help out and consult as needed.”

“Are you that bitter that Scully is on an x-file and you’re not,” he asked.

“Am I that obvious?” Mulder asked.

“I’ve had hemorrhoids that weren’t as annoying with you,” he replied. “Or is it the fact that you don’t have the x-files anymore?”

The bluntness of Skinner’s observations caught Mulder off guard. He looked up from his food and took a few moments to reflect. “In theory, I shouldn’t. I have Scully and our son, things are about as normal as we can make them. But I can’t help but feel connected to them in some way. Seeing Scully out in the field, me not there…” He shrugged. “It brings up a lot of baggage.”

“Especially with Doggett?”

Mulder was quiet. “I blame myself. I should have stayed with her instead of chasing UFOs.”

“Doggett’s a good agent, Mulder. It was hard watching her, Mulder, during those months she was gone. Having to keep her pregnancy a secret. It was tough.” Skinner took a napkin and wiped his mouth. “You know, Sharon used to get mad at me when we first got married. I was still a field agent but the jealousy she would get. She felt inadequate with everything that was going on between us. Said she felt left behind.”

Well, Mulder thought, certainly hitting everything on the topic. Skinner continued to stare at Mulder. “And?” he asked. “What did Sharon do?”

“Well, we had a real nasty fight that was the start of our quarrels at the very beginning of our quarrels. I was in the field, missed an important date, you know how it goes.” He smiled to himself, remembering her. He thumbed at the wedding band thoughtfully. “But we made time. Communication wise. It didn’t always go well but we tried.”

“So, in addition to being an assistant director, you are secretly a marriage counselor. Wow, sir.”

“Knock it off, Mulder. All I am saying is that something is bothering you about this...arrangement, then make sure you take the time to talk to Scully.”

Mulder nodded. He decided to change the subject. “So, how is our old buddy Kersh?”

Skinner chuckled. “Tap dancing his way on the top floor so that you’re no longer there to bother him.”

“Well, at least some things never change,” he answered. “My advice, Mulder, from one man who tried to balance a career and relationship? Make sure you always leave time to talk and communicate. If not, the whole thing can go to shit.”

“Thanks, sir,” he nodded. His mind drifted to Scully. “I appreciate the advice. You should come down to Quantico more often. Skinner’s Lunch Hour wisdom.”

“Knock it off, Mulder,” he dismissed.

. . . . . . .

After getting John’s call from the school, Scully took her car to investigate and meet them there. According to Monica, Dylan had somehow controlled the bugs during their confrontation. She was surprised by the number of cops, firefighters, and EMTs. She was even surprised to see people in hazmat suits. But to her surprise, Monica had found them a clue. A used tissue. They rode back to the medical examiner. As they rode the elevator to the second floor. Scully was the first to emerge carrying the tissue in a metal container with Doggett and Reyes flanking her. “Where did you get this again?” She asked.

“Dylan Lokensgard provided it to us when we interviewed him,” Doggett answered.

“I have to warn you, there's typically not a lot to be found in a teenage boy's sweaty kleenex.”

“Well, a teenage boy can produce other things,” Reyes replied.

“Don’t remind me of the future,” Scully laughed thinking of William.

“But we were looking for pheromones. Aren't there pheromones produced in adolescent sweat?” Reyes continued.

“Yes, it's what causes B.O., But all too obviously it's not all that attractive--to anything,” Scully countered. “While I was out with Dr. Bronzino this morning, we thought we had a possible hit this morning but it turned out to be nothing.”

“A possible hit?” Doggett asked.

“Well, Dr. Bronzino was more than trying to hit on pheromones.”

“Well, at least Mulder isn’t here to punch him in the face,” Doggett chuckled.

“Yeah,” she said distantly. Scully’s brief thought of Mulder drifted away as she entered into the medical examiner’s office where Dr. Bronzino was bent over a microscope. She still needed to call him. The lack of communication between them was growing. “Let’s see what we uncover.”

As they entered, the biosensor’s beeps became progressively faster, startling the etymologist grew excited. “Finally! I knew it wasn’t broken!” He glanced up seeing Scully, Doggett, and Reyes. “Dr. Scully, I’m so glad you’re back! I've got a reading here that's going right off the scale. Holy Toledo! We've got pheromones coming out of the ying-yang here. C-13 calliphorene and how.”

As they got closer, the beeping became a steady tone, and then suddenly stopped. Doggett raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“I think my electroantennogram just... tilted,” Bronzino spoke in disbelief.

“What's c-13 calliphorone?” Reyes asked.

“Insect pheromone,” Scully supplied.

Dr. Bronzino’s attention shifted to the sample the FBI agents had brought. “Where did you find this mother lode?”

Agent Reyes answered, “A boy named Dylan Lokensgard. That specimen came from him.”

Rocky Bronzino sputtered, “A boy ... is secreting bug pheromones? That's impossible. Preposterous.”

Doggett glanced at Scully who met his gaze, trying to hide her smirk. He glanced back at the doctor. “You're the expert, Dr. Bronzino. How else do you explain it, then?”

When he didn’t respond, Scully asked, “Rocky?”

“A boy is a boy, a bug is a bug. You can't have it both ways,” he explained trying to wrap his mind around it, “science doesn’t allow it. Period.”

“I have a few theories,” Scully began, “Okay, so this boy's going through puberty, right? I mean, maybe his body chemistry is somehow just going crazy and it's his raging teenage hormones that are attracting all these insects.”

Reyes nodded in thought. “What if it's more than chemistry and hormones? More than biology? Dylan's not just attracting these bugs he's using them to act out.”

“Yes, but against what?” Scully asked.

“We saw him talking to a girl,” Reyes answered.

“Well, that makes sense. In a way. Teenage love,” Doggett connected. “The girl is the one in the dumb ass video. Captain dare's girlfriend.”

“How on Earth are you all making these connections,” Rocky said.

“We’ve experienced with cases like these,” Scully said. “Agent Doggett, why don’t you and Agent Reyes try to chase down the girl and check on her. Dr. Bronzino and I will check on Dylan.”

“We will?” He asked, confused.

“We are,” Scully confirmed. “Call each other in about two hours and meet back here?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Doggett nodded.

. . . . . .

It was evening by the time they got to the Lokensgards’ home. As Scully and Bronzino pulled up in front of Dylan Lokensgard’s house, her mind was elsewhere. She did not remember to call Mulder. As they walked up the sidewalk to the front door, Scully slowed and saw the front door slightly open. Scully slowed and drew out her flashlight. She knocked lightly on the door. “Mrs. Lokensgard? Dylan?” She called out.

Rocky Bronzino behind her was fiddling with the machine, trying to fix it, and it started emitting a series of steady beats. “Ah, got it! I'm getting a reading here. Trace levels inside the house.”

Scully shifted her gaze and replied, “Well, I guess that's probable cause.” Scully began her trek up the stairs when she was stopped by Rock Bronzino. “What now?”

Bronzino said quickly, “Dr. Scully? I just wanted to say this while I had a chance.” He smiled with bleached teeth. “This is so exciting. I've never had a partner before. And this isn’t a thing. This is a professional collaboration that happens only one time.”

Scully thought of Mulder and felt her heart twist. “I have. Don’t forget what I told you, Dr. Bronzino.”

“Semantics, Dr. Scully. I'd like to think of it as a hymenopteran relationship. Two scientists using their special knowledge reaching higher than either of them could ever reach alone. And if I may say so, Doctor, you complete me.”

“I’ve already completed. I already have a partner. I’ve told you this. Now, I got upstairs, you takedown.” She shook her head and thought of Mulder. She needed to call him once this was done.

“All right,” he exclaimed, “Partner!”

She rolled her eyes and jogged up the stairs. As she slowly examined the upstairs, her thoughts drifted back to Mulder and how she hadn’t communicated with him. Or her mother. As she neared Dylan’s room, Scully spied Natalie’s class picture on the bed. As her phone rang, she jumped, digging it out. “Scully?”

“Where are you?” It was John Doggett. He sounded rushed.

She looked around the room. “I’m with Dr. Branzino at the Lokengard’s house. But there’s nobody here.

“Yeah, well, I'm afraid the kid's on a tear. He's caused a car accident out here on Glenhaven road,” Doggett explained.

“How'd he do that?”

“You'd better see for yourself.”

“I’m on my way.”

Scully turned to make her downstairs while Rocky was just getting his equipment working properly. He looked up. “It’s everywhere, Dr. Scully. C-13 calliphorone. I'm getting a stiff new reading from up here.”

Scully nodded, “Yeah, Dylan's bedroom's up there. That’s probably what you’re reading. Unfortunately, he's not in it.”

“Where are you going?”

“The kid's on a rampage. I’m going to meet Agent Doggett.” The pheromone machine began to beep loudly and Dr. Bronzino cried in surprise. She called, “You got my number.”

Dr. Bronzino smiled and called out. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind, Dr. Scully?”

“Not in your wildest dreams, Rocky.”

. . . . . .

Mulder came home, hoping to see, Scully but his heart fell when it was only Mrs. Scully smiling with William. He should be happy to have his son but he was missing his partner more. After a simple dinner and promises of coming to dinner Saturday night, Mrs. Scully left Mulder alone with William on a Friday night. William was quick to fall asleep and Mulde put him to bed. He surveyed the empty apartment. It felt foreign without Scully there with him.

He went back to the couch and tried to get comfortable. Flipping on the TV, he found the Sports Center. He glanced at his cell phone. He checked it one last time before turning it off. If she wasn’t busy saving the world without him, she would find a way to let him know what is going on.

. . . . .

As Scully drove to meet Agent Doggett, her phone started to ring again. She sighed and answered, “Scully.”

“Agent Scully,” Doggett’s voice filtered through the voice piece, “I need you to turn around and go back to Dylan’s house. Monica just called. She got knocked out and Natalie is gone. I think Dylan got her.”

“Is Agent Reyes okay?”

“Yes, I think so. I found her covered in some sort of web. Like a spider.”

Scully’s mind flashed to one of the first cases she and Mulder had on what was supposed to be a walk through the forest. “Call the EMTs and make sure they bring hazmat gear. I’m on my way back to Dylan’s house.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Take care of Agent Reyes first. And call back up for me as well.”

“You got it. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She tried to dial Rocky’s number but it was disconnected. As Scully pulled back up at the Lokensgard home, it was still eerily quiet and something felt amiss. She drew her weapon and flashlight and took a few steps in. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Natalie Gordon, the girl that Doggett and Reyes had been after, sitting in a chair and crying. She asked, “Where are they?” Natalie shook her head, unable to speak. “Natalie!”

Natalie’s crying continued. She pointed upstairs wordlessly. Scully pointed her weapon upstairs and began to make her way to the attic. She widened her eyes in disbelief to see large human-sized sacs of web hanging from various positions. She instantly recalled the mysterious web-slinging, glowing insects from Washington state and how her, Mulder, and the park ranger were almost swallowed alive. As she examined them, a small voice emitted, “Help me. Dr. Scully, help me!”

Scully bent down to tear off the web. “Dr. Bronzino?”

“It’s the boy! And the mother!”

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know.” His voice sounded faint. “I don’t feel so good.”

In the distance, she could hear sirens. That must have been Doggett and Reyes coming with the cavalry. She tried to tear the webbing away as she heard the sirens sound to a stop. Bronzino looked faint suddenly and lolled his head backward and his eyes shut. She dragged him out and checked for a pulse. Feeling one, although faint, she began CPR. She heard footsteps running up the stairs and as the flashlight shined on her.

“Agent Scully!” Doggett greeted. “Is that Branzino?”

“He was in one of the web sacks,” she explained quickly, continuing CPR.

“He’s smiling,” Reyes observed.

“He’s what?”

Scully looked down to see Bronzino with his eyes closed but he was smiling. “That sonofabitch,” she cried.

Caught up in the moment, she slapped him against the cheek and got to her feet. The smack was resounding and caused Dr. Bronzino to sit up suddenly and place his hand against the red cheek. “What kind of care was that?”

“A dose of reality,” she snapped. “Make sure the EMTs check him out.”

“I thought we were partners,” he pouted.

“We worked together on this one case. That’s it.” She turned to Doggett and Reyes. “I found him cocooned up like these unknown victims. I had seen something like this once before when I first started on the x-files. That might be worth checking out.”

“We will,” Doggett said, trying to fight from grinning. “But um, do you find any signs of Dylan?”

“Gone. How is Natalie?” Scully answered.

“Fine. Shaken up but I think she’ll be okay,” Reyes said, trying to fight the urge to laugh.

“What?” Scully asked. She turned as the two agents stared at Bronzino who was now trying to charm a female EMT about his close brush with death. “Oh, come on!”

“I’m just saying,” Doggett said. “If Mulder were here, he would have slugged the guy.”

“Just because you were on the receiving end of the man’s fist once, John doesn’t mean he would slug another guy.”

Scully rolled her eyes and cast one lingering glance at Bronzino. “Speaking of Mulder, I need to call him.”

“Let him know about the human fly trap?” Doggett grinned.

“Both of you knock it off,” she grumbled.

“Agent Scully,” one of the police officers called, “I need to get your statement!”

“Can it wait?”

“I’m afraid not, ma’am unless you want to do it in the morning,” the officer said.

Scully sighed. “Fine, fine, I’ll do it tonight.”

Her plans of going home or evening calling Mulder disappeared as she was left with Agents Doggett, Reyes, and the cops investigating the scenes.

. . . . . .

Saturday morning. The sun was just peeking through the windows of the Georgetown apartment as Mulder sipped his coffee. He was preparing to wake William up to take him to do a morning run to the shop down the street for donuts and a newspaper. Despite the jealousy and sour feelings, he had with Scully being in the field, being home on a Saturday morning with his son was nice.

His attention was drawn to the door when he heard a key sliding into the lock, the deadbolt turning, and the door open. In came Scully, still wearing the suit from the night before. She came in, kicked off her boots, and dropped her keys on the table next to the door. She sighed and Mulder stood quietly. “You look like you’ve had a tough case,” he called softly.

Scully looked surprised. “You’re awake.”

“I’m not much of one for sleep. You should know that by now,” he replied. “You didn’t call.”

“I’m sorry,” she started. Her tired mind tried to piece the past 24 hours. “I got busy and distracted. Everything came to a head last night. I didn’t want to wait to see you so I drove through the night…”

“You drove through the night,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“As a doctor, you should know better.” He made his way to her in a few steps and wrapped his arms tightly around her. Scully was shocked by the greeting but relaxed a few seconds later. Her arms came under his and she hugged him tightly. Mulder squeezed his eyes tightly and buried his face into her hair and breathed deeply. “I missed you.”

Scully buried her face into her chest. His cotton shirt smelled of William, old sweat, and just home. “I missed you too.” She lifted her head and kissed him. Mulder smiled and kissed her deeply, not relinquishing his grasp. She chuckled tiredly. “You missed me.”

“Words fail to describe it.”

She smiled again and looked about the empty apartment. “Where is William?”

“Still sleeping. He’ll wake up in another hour or so. What about you? When was the last time you slept?”

“I napped at the station before I hit the road.”

“You’re a doctor,” he admonished.

“I know, I know.”

“So you know bed rest is the thing you need right now. I’ll call your mother later and cancel dinner plans.”

“Dinner plans?”

Mulder nodded. “We thought you were coming home last night so we were going to have dinner as a family. No worries. We can do it tomorrow.”

“Mom usually goes to church first thing.”

“I’m sure she’ll make an exception.”

Scully was already moving towards their son’s bedroom. The need to see her son was killing her. She opened the door slowly to see William still sleeping soundly. “He sleeps like you but like clockwork, he’ll be up ready for his bottle. We were going to run to the store to get donuts and the Saturday paper. I can pick you up for breakfast if you want?”

“That’d be nice.”

At the sound of his mother’s voice, William sleepily opened his eyes and gurgled happily. “He was up earlier, about three, with a diaper. Go ahead. I’ll get his bottle ready and get you some coffee. Unless you want to change.”

“No, no, this is fine.”

Scully bent down to pick up her son, cradled him, and sat in the rocking chair. Mulder smiled at the image before he went to fetch the bottle and coffee. As he came back and saw Scully, still disheveled from her case, smiling and cooing at their son, the anger and bitterness he had been nursing the past few days momentarily vanished.

. . . . . .

“Is William asleep?”

“Yeah,” Mulder replied, crawling into bed with her. “He’ll probably be up around two or three. He’s been consistent the past few nights with you gone. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take the first shift when he wakes up.”

Scully flipped the covers down for him further. “I missed this.”

“Missed what?”

“You, William, us.”

Skinner’s advice came back to him suddenly and Mulder said, “I have something to ask you. Rather something to tell you?”

“What?”

“I was quite moody and jealous when you were gone. I felt...I felt left behind,” he confessed searching for the right words. “I know I screwed up being abducted and dying and putting you through all that before William was born. With you gone…” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“You did nothing wrong. I may have gotten caught up in the work,” she said. Scully reached for his hand. “But this parenthood thing, our relationship, we just need to strike a balance and find out what that is. I enjoyed Saturday with you and William. That’s something we wouldn’t have if we were still on the x-files.”

“True. But I still feel bad.” He pulled her suddenly towards her and she let out a yelp of surprise. He kissed her neck and nuzzled her pajama top open. “William can sleep through anything. And, correct me if I’m wrong, doctor, you’ve healed enough.”

She giggled and slide down so he had better access. “On the case, there was this etymologist that had helped us. Rocky Bronzino. The man kept flirting with me to no end. He ended up in a cocoon…”

“A cocoon you say,” Mulder murmured.

His fingers were already unbuttoning her pajama top, his hand sinking beneath the elastic waistband of her undergarments. She shivered to feel his fingers touch her. “Yes. I got to say I was in a relationship,” she smiled. She sought more kisses from him. “Publicly. Openly. I am in a committed relationship with my partner.”

Mulder smiled and whispered, “You sound so sexy saying that.”

“What? I am in a committed relationship with my partner?”

“Yes.” Scully found herself topless and pulled off Mulder’s shirt. “He made me perform CPR on him.”

Mulder paused. “He did what?”

“Don’t worry. I gave him a good dose of reality.” She snickered. “By slapping him.”

“There’s the Agent Scully I know,” he breathed. “And good. I don’t share.”

Scully let him continue his ministrations, relishing being home and with him again. Her thoughts about the case as she just let herself be present and let herself be free. Mulder moved and loved her, silently thanking whoever was listening he had her and William in his life. After a passionate reunion, Scully cuddled against Mulder, resting her head on his heart. “I missed you.”

He held her and gently played with her hair. “I missed you too.”

On the baby monitor, William began to make noses, crying from one of his parents. “I got it,” Mulder whispered. He kissed her quickly. “And you’re right, we’ll try to find a balance.”

Scully laid back down in bed and watch his naked behind jog to the nursery. She lay back down to watch the shadows on the ceiling and he was back five minutes later. Mulder slid effortlessly back next to her, embracing her again. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “He was just talking in his sleep. Like you do.”

“You mean you,” she yawned.

“I mean you.” He pulled her closer. “It’s good to have you home, Scully.”

“It’s good to be home.”

#xfiles #xf fic #msr #txf #txf fic #msr fic #embracing parenthood fic #mulder #scully #mulder and scully #season 9 #au

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