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strangerivy · 3 years

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The Titan Boy

Summary: After the Scouts gain custody of Eren Yeager and Y/N witness the beating her boyfriend, Levi inflicts on him to do that something buried deep in her heart, breaks through the cracks that she and Levi must overcome to move forward. Warnings: Swearing Pairings: Levi Ackerman x Reader (y/n) Genre: 18+ | Fluff | Angst Word Count: 4.2K Author’s Note: Guys, I actually cried writing this. I hope you guys enjoy, let me know what you think! Also I can do a tag list for any Levi fics I writing if people are interest just ask!

|| Masterlist | AOT Masterlist ||

Year 850 - Summer

It was supposed to be just like any other expedition, reclaim a town that would be lost once you left. You would rechart the area taking note of what had changed and what had been found in the time that area had been abandoned all those years ago.

You stood behind Levi watching around you to make sure no titans came out of nowhere while he did his best to comfort the dying soldier. Petra glanced up at you meeting your gaze, tears slowly falling down her cheeks as she listened to Levi. You quickly looked away tensing for a moment when you saw movement but relaxed seeing it was Erwin. Everything was going okay, until this moment.

Erwin approached with a grim look on his face “Levi!” He shouted; Levi stood up turning to face the commander with a raised brow. Erwin stopped his horse just in front of us. I turned to help Petra up as she patted off the dirt from her pants.

“We’re pulling out,” Erwin announced making both you and Petra snap your heads up to look at him.

“Sir?” Petra questioned.

“What the hell I-” Levi stuck his hand out in front of you silently telling you to stop.

“What do you mean? You damn well know we can push further? My men didn’t die to pave our retreat,” Levi shot a glare up at Erwin at that last part and Erwin gave just as serious a look back, he looked between the three of us before answering.

“There’s a swarm of titans moving north, there bearing down on the city,” You sucked in a breath, and Petra’s eyes widened. Levi grimaced at the news, you were the first to move grappling back through the buildings heading towards where your horses were being watched, Levi shouting after you.

Just as Erwin had predicted, the titans had breached Trost but to your surprise, the hole had been plugged by a boy. A boy that had the ability to transform into a titan.

You couldn’t help but pace as you waited for Levi and Erwin down in the basement talking to the boy that you now knew, was named Eren. A recruit from the 104th cadet corps hadn’t even made it to selection night. He was just a kid. Hange hummed calmly leaned up against the wall Moblit right beside her as you all waited.

“What’s taking them so long,” You grumbled and Hange chuckled

“Careful Y/N, don’t get to worked up,” She warned with a cheeky grin and you rolled your eyes dragging your feet towards her falling back to leaning against the wall with an over-extracted huff. You had questions, questions you knew you could discuss with Hange but, you glanced over at the MP’s guarding the door to the basement, you didn’t want them listening in on your conversation.

The door opened and you all stood up straight as Erwin walked through followed by Levi.

“We’ll discuss the details more later, Levi,” Erwin instructed him before turning giving you a nod before heading off somewhere.

“Y/n,” You turned to look at Levi again and he motioned his head for you to follow. You said goodbye to Hange and Moblit before following Levi back to your temporary quarters while here in the interior. He held the door open for you shutting it once you both were in. You went and sat on the armchair waiting for him to inform you of what was going on.

You tapped your foot impatiently as he made you both some tea handing you yours as he sat down with his cup. You took a quick sip staring him down.

“Stop staring,”

“Levi.”

“Fine,” He set his glass down on the small table in between you both letting out a small sigh, “We are going to petition for the boy to be released into the custody of the Scouts-”

“That’s it?”

“Would you let me finish?” You sealed your lips motioning for him to continue, he shook his head taking another sip of his tea.

“He will most likely be released into my care and will become part of the squad.” You nodded your head at this information expecting it really, “There won’t be any room for error however if something goes wrong, we’ll have to put him down.” Your eyes widened as you sat back in your chair staring at the empty fireplace.

“He’s just a child,” You whispered mostly to yourself not liking the sound of this plan. Levi really expected you to be able to put down a child if it came down to it? Your frown deepened at the thought and you were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice Levi get up grabbing your empty cup from your hands.

He leaned down kissing the top of your head gently, “I need to speak with Erwin more, I’ll expect to see you in the courtroom when the time comes y/n”

Saying you were pissed was a slight understatement, shooting Daggers at the man next to you as you walked down the hall with Erwin and Hange. Erwin noticing your glare but not letting up on the conversation with Levi regarding your new Titan shifting recruit. Eren Yeager. Also, a 15-year-old boy that you just witness your boyfriend beat nearly to death with not an ounce of regret.

You didn’t really know why you were so mad, really you didn’t. But it just really really irked you. You let out a frustrated huff turning your attention back to the steps in front of you and Levi snapped his head towards you with a frown and small glare of his own.

“Will you drop the dramatics?” He ordered and being the obedient Scout you were, you didn’t listen scoffing at his words forcing an irritated growl from him stopping in his tracks Hange and Erwin stopping a few paces in front of you watching the scene play out at a safe distance. “Care to explain why the hell your acting like this?” Levi spat eyes narrowed at your back as you were turned away from him arms crossed over your chest.

You quickly snapped your head to look at him cheeks reddening from anger as you took a step closer to him. “You nearly beat him to death Levi!” your voice raised a few octaves and Levi was not a fan of that taking a step closer so you were almost nose to nose, neither of you backing down from the other.

“What the hell did you expect me to do?” He questioned you through gritted teeth “You heard Erwin, it was the right card to play.” You let out another scoff not believeing your ears. You jabbed his chest with your finger knowing what kind of button you were pushing when doing it. Hange making an ‘Ooo’ sound as you did, waiting in anticipation for your next words.

“What,” Jab “The hell,” Jab “kind of card is that, Levi? He’s 15 years old! What if he couldn’t regenerate! What if you beat him to a pulp and he couldn’t recover! You played your card on a damn WHIM!” You shouted the last part hands on your hip as you waited for his explanation. Levi was calm. To calm really at your outburst. Normally by now, he would have pulled you to a private room to have this kind of argument.

“Wow y/n, I never knew you could be so motherly,” Levi and you both froze, eyes widening at each other, cheeks turning bright red at Hange’s statement. You panicked unable to look at Levi now turning to face her and a smirking Erwin.

“Tha-that isn’t wha-t-t th-is is,” You stuttered cheeks growing redder eyes darting around the room,

“Now that you say that Hange, I have noticed that you have been quite more attentive to the children in the city than usual, y/n.” Erwin pointed out the sly smirk never leaving his face as he spoke, and you wanted to punch it right off his face your cheeks feeling as if they were on fire at this point.

“I have to go,” You huffed quickly walking away from them leaving Levi to deal with them, your argument completely forgotten. You march aimlessly down the hall with no destination in mind but to be away from them.

You ended up on a balcony overlooking the interior letting out a heavy sigh leaning back against the wall resting your head against it letting the evening sun warm your skin. You slid down the wall resting your arms on your knees once seated.

You looked up at the sky thinking back on the situation you had just escaped from trying to place why it bothered you so much. Deep down you already knew why, a longing for something more buried deep within you knowing in the world you lived now it would be impossible. You couldn’t justify bringing a child into this dark world no matter how much you craved it.

Levi and you had been together 5 years and the conversation has never come up, never really being an issue till recently when your want to be a mother started breaking through the cracks of your heart. Wet droplets hit the stone beneath you as the tears fell from your cheeks mourning the life you never could have.

Levi searched up and down the halls and rooms of HQ looking for you, growing ever the more frustrated with each empty room. Deciding to head back to your shared room to wait for you. He scolded himself knowing he should have gone after you the minute you ran off but was frozen by both Hange and Erwin’s words. Was that something you wanted? A child? A family, with him?

A scoff left his mouth at himself, of course it was what you wanted. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have reacted in such a way. He wasn’t blind, he knew something was bothering you lately, you thought you hid it well, but he could see it, he would always see. The way you spoke with the few kids that came up to you both when in uniform excitedly asking questions before expeditions. The way your smile would falter just a bit when their parents rounded them up.

His frown deepened with each memory that passed through his mind of all the signs of the secret that you held so close to you. He passed a hall pausing his step when the faint sound of a sniffle caught his interest. He turned taking light steps to you see you sitting on the ground, knees held tightly to you as you silently cried to yourself. His chest tightening at the sight.

“Y/n,” You stiffened at his voice quickly looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks, you looked away quickly wiping them away trying to pretend that he didn’t just walk in on you like this.

“Levi, I didn’t hear you,” You forced yourself to smile as you looked back up at him, his expression blank and unreadable as he stared down at you a hand slowly moving from his side to offer to you. You took it pulling yourself up and when you were almost standing his grip tightened before pulling you end to him arms wrapping around you tightly. You stared in a bit of shock not sure what to do as he held you.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered into your ear. You didn’t need to ask what about already knowing. Sorry for not being able to give you the life you craved. Sorry for this shitty world. You wrapped your arms around him gripping at his jacket as you buried your face into the curve of his neck fresh tears falling.

“Me too.”

You and Levi headed out the next morning with Eren riding silently as you met up with the rest of your squad before heading to your new temporary living situation. The old abandoned former Scouts HQ in between Hermina District and Trost District. Far enough from any towns, just in case the worst-case scenario happened.

Your grip on your reins tightened at the thought but you were quick to push it aside relaxing. Your rode next to Petra behind Oluo and Eren and Levi right behind you. Petra noticed your slight change in demeanor giving a concerned look that you shook your head to let her know it was nothing. Being the only two females in the squad you had a closer bond from the others.

Oluo was going on about how Eren shouldn’t expect a royal treatment from us despite his importance to the Scouts or Humanity in general. In a moment of attempted intimidation from Oluo, his horse hit a rock jerking him forward making him bit his tongue once again sending him screeching in pain sending you and Petra into a fit of silent giggles.

You arrived at the old HQ getting off your horse staring up at the old castle. From years of being vacant, it was overgrown with weeds and no doubt did it have a thick layer of dust all over the inside. You directed your horse towards the stables tying her up so you could clean out a stale for her. Eren walked past you, hood of his new Scouts cloak still up as he looked around at the team.

“Hello,” You greeted he jumped at the sound of your voice not noticing you, he turned to face you

“He-hello,” He greeted tying his horse up as well to get the stall next to yours cleaned out. You finished your stall untying your horse leading her in and start taking off her reins.

“I don’t believe we have formally met yet, my name's y/n,” You greeted with a soft smile, you didn’t want him to think you all were only here to be his killers if it came to it. The way you saw it, he was still a boy. Despite his gift. If that’s what you would call it.

“You’re the second-in-command, right? I- I um saw you next to the Captain at my trial.” He was shy and a bit awkward which you guessed was normal for a teenager. You finished up walking out of the stale, you shook your head going to help him.

“No, that’s Eld’s job. Levi and I have just- we’ve known each other a long time,” You informed him, and he seemed a bit shock at the information. You didn’t blame him, the way you carried yourself, and the way the others respected you it made seem as if you were the second in command, but you turned down the position when Levi offered it saying you didn’t want that kind of responsibility. Even so, the squad still treated you as such knowing about your relationship with the Captain.

“Y/n,” You looked up seeing Levi not too far off from you, he stared at you before looking over at Eren and then back to you “We have some cleaning to do, you too Eren,” You nodded falling after him into the castle.

After a long day of cleaning and organizing and getting rooms ready, you all sat at one of the tables drinking some tea that Levi made in the old dining room. You silently took a sip avoiding Levi’s gaze on you ever so often. You hadn’t really spoken much since he found you crying. Not ready to talk about what never could be, but he waited as patiently as he could.

You set your cup down leaning back in your chair relaxing a bit. You stretched out one of your legs ready for when you could take the straps off.

“It’s safe to assume our orders will stretch into next week but word through the grapevine is we’re gearing up for a big mission a month from now,” Eld informed your ears perking up a curious glance over at Levi through the corner of your eye, “One where a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears graduates are slated to be our main backup.” Levi noticed your stare shooting you a look to tell you that the two of you would speak later about it.

“Well, that can’t be right,” Gunther spoke up now and you turned your attention to him “why do something like that? The cadets have been through enough with the last Titan attack. Why subject them to that kind of danger again?”

“Perhaps the uppers feel that since they have had their exposure that they can handle a mission right out of the gate,” You spoke up attention turning to you as you spoke, “We all know the ones that survived have the skill at least,” You took another sip of tea.

“You have to wonder how many of those snivel-drop runts peed themselves,” You smirked into your cup at Eld’s words knowing full well that he was one of those Cadet’s not long ago.

“Surely this can’t be the case?” Petra turned to Levi in disbelief at the news. Levi sat relaxed in his chair one arm resting against the back of the chair the other on the table.

“Mission planning is my responsibility, but it is Erwin’s. And you can bet the man has obsessed over every angle.” Levi answered and you nodded in agreement. Eld rested his arms on the table his hands held together as he rests his chin on them.

“Well, that’s the truth,” He responded, confirming Levi’s statement “Especially given how unique the situation is. Considering how many people died on the path to taking back Wall Maria, then hope comes in a form no one expected.” Eld shifted his gaze to Eren “One we’re not even really entirely sure on how to deal with,” Eren visibly tensed as the gaze of the whole squad turned to him.

“Eld,” You warned a sudden sense of protectiveness running through you and Levi was quick to notice.

“Y/n,” Levi warned you and sunk back in your chair arms crossed as you stared at the ground.

“Most of us still find it hard to believe,” Eld continued “So, how does it work? This whole changing into a Titan trick. Really?”

“Wish I could tell you, but the fact is my memory’s not clear, guess it’s kind of like being a trance. I do know the trigger seems to be hurting myself in some way. Like biting my hand.” Eren held his hand up staring at it as the others all looked at him wanting more answers than they were going to get out of him.

“You’re not going to get anything out of him. Apart from what the scribblers have laid out in the reports,” Levi grabbed a hold of his cup letting out a hum,” Not that you-know-who won’t have a go at it.” This brought a smile to your face as he spoke about Hange as if saying her name would summon her from thin air. “You’ll be lucky to come out of it alive if that one lays into you, course it's only a matter of time.”

Eren got visibly nervous at Levi’s words looking over at you who tried to suppress the grin on your face. “I’m honestly surprised they aren’t here yet, I expected them hours ago,” You played along with Levi’s game of teasing Eren seeing it as harmless knowing full well Hange would never really put Eren in any true danger if she could help it.

“Who’re you talking about?” Eren asked leaning forward and as if on queue a loud bang hit the door behind you with a loud shout of pain behind it, Petra getting up to remove the wooden bar that kept it locked.

Hange walked in holding her forehead and you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your lips.

“I’m so sorry. Good evening, Team Levi!” She greeted walking into the room, Levi looking both annoyed and unsurprised by her “How is castle life treating you all?”

“You’re too early.” Levi complained and Hange smirked at him walking over to the empty seat across from you.

“Am I? S’pose I couldn’t help myself.” She joked and you smiled over at her

“Well, I say you are late, what took you so long?” You asked finishing off your tea.

“Ah you know, paperwork this and paperwork that,” You nodded knowing the feeling, Eren stared at Hange a bit confused as to why she was here.

“Section commander Hange?” He questioned and Hange turned her attention to him

“Hello Eren,” she greeted “In the event, you haven’t pieced it together yet, it's my job to spearhead the Scout Regiments research efforts. Essentially, I poke and prod our captive Titan specimens. I’d very much like your help.”

“My help? In what way? Like what would I have to do?” Eren questioned obviously not sure on how he could help himself

“Join me, of course!” Hange was getting excited her voice raising a little “On a quest of scientific discovery!”

Eren leaned back getting more nervous as Hange went on “Well, uh… I’m happy to help, except it's not up to me. I’m on strict restriction by order of the higher-ups you see,” Hange smiles looking over at Levi.

“Levi! What's on the docket for him tomorrow?” She asked excitedly looking over at the Captain

“Clearing out all the weeds.” He answered unamused

“Excellent, then! It’s cinched!” Hange leaned down to Eren grabbing a hold of his hand “Young man, tomorrow will be grand.”

“Hange calm down, you're going to scare the poor boy,” You pointed out and Hange nodded relaxing just a bit and Eren shot you a quick look of thanks before turning back Hange.

“Uh, okay but just so I’m clear, what exactly will I be doing?” He asked and Hange hummed letting him know to continue his question “Are you running experiments or something?”

“Idiot. Shut Up,” Oluo whispered head resting on his hand

Hange sighed looking over at Eren overjoyed by his question “Ahh I knew it! You possess a singularly curious mind, don’t you?”

You let out a sigh pushing your way up as did the rest of the squad not wanting to stick around for what was going to be a long night of Hange go over her experiments with Eren.

“Hange,” You started, and she gave a hum to let you know she was listening “Let him get some sleep tonight, yeah?”

“I can’t promise anything, y/n! You know that!” She beamed and you shook your head following Levi out the door that he was waiting for you by. The walk back to your quarters was quiet as you walked next to each other, he opened the door once you arrived and shut it once you were in. You walked over to the bed sitting down on it with a sigh of relief ready to take off your uniform for the night.

You pulled your shoes off, setting them neatly next to the bed, and started to unbuckle your straps when Levi walked over smacking your hands away to do it himself. You looked up at him curiously noticing a very faint blush on his cheeks.

“We need to talk about this, y/n.” He pushed and you let out a heavy sigh starting to pick at your fingers as he gently removed the belts from around you, he tugged at one that signaled for you to stand up and you did, your chest pressing against his as you did from how close he was standing to you. You felt his breath on your cheek but didn’t want to turn your head knowing if you did you would break down again.

“I know your smart, so I know that you are aware that we can’t fulfill that dream of yours, and I- I don’t know if we ever will,” He started, you bit your lip as you tried your best to hold back tears. The last buckle coming undone sent your straps falling to the floor and Levi sighed grabbing your chin gently to turn you to look at him. “the is one thing though I am willing to do for you, one thing I’ve always intended to do with you,” He walked over to the dresser in the room digging through one of the drawers as you back down on the bed staring at him curiously something grasped in his hand as he turned back to face you.

“I know I am not good at expressing my love for you,” He walked back over kneeling down to your level grabbing a hold of your hand, “and perhaps I waited far longer than I intended to do this but the timing never felt right.” He reached up cupping your cheek leaning in for a kiss and when he parted he opened up his hand to reveal a simple silver band, the one you actually saw a few years prior. You looked up at him with wide eyes recognizing the piece of jewelry and he smirked knowing how confused you were.

“I bought it when you went to get those pastries for lunch,” He admitted to you

“That day was two years ago, you’ve held onto it all this time?” You asked in disbelief, he nodded shyly.

“I- I can’t give you children y/n, not when the world is so fucked up but-but I do want to marry you if that can be enough?” The tears flowed freely down your cheeks as your lips spread into a smile nodding your head. It would be enough, as long as Levi was there. He would always be enough.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi #Captain Levi #levi attack on titan #levi aot #captain levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction

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haworthiaace · 3 years

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Magic misfits! Did I update the masterpost specifically because of this fic? yes absolutely. A busy day for Scar, featuring TFC and some good ol’ Scar appreciation :]

The start of a new season was always interesting.

While TFC didn’t enjoy having to start from scratch every year or so; having gotten used to the comforts of late season riches, he did love the sheer amount of interaction that came with a new season. TFC was content to hear gossip about the others’ shenanigans while he stuck to what he was best at: mining. Some of the others called it cheating to use his earthbending down in the tunnels, but he called it cheating to be able to shapeshift, or use magic crystals, or any of the other crazy things the other hermits could do, so it evened out.

When he wasn’t down in his mine, TFC watched as all the other hermits scrambled to make the most impressive buildings and contraptions in as little time as possible. Many of his servermates placed more importance on finishing their creations than actually gathering necessities such as tools and armour.

As if to prove this observation, the Boatem village appeared on the other side of the nether portal, populated with structures that were much too large considering it had only been three weeks since they arrived in this world. There was also a… tree? At least that’s what it looked like; a thin oak tree stretching up past the clouds and out of view. Looks like Mumbo and Grian were up to no good already.

“TFC! Up here!” Scar’s voice came from somewhere above TFC’s head, and he looked up to see the wizard (although he no longer wore his robe and hat) standing on a balcony extending from a truly massive wagon, one hand on the railing and the other extended above his head, waving enthusiastically at TFC.

He climbed the ladder up the side of the wagon, entering a sparse storage room. Knowing Scar, he either hadn’t bothered to move in yet or lost all of his things in a cave somewhere. Despite his powerful crystal magic, Scar still managed to die more than any other hermit, so the second option was more likely.

“Well hello there! Welcome to my humble abode, please take a seat.” Scar led TFC to a balcony, where he gestured towards a table and two folding chairs. Scar sat down, crossing his legs and folding his arms in his lap. “So, what brings you to our little village today?”

TFC raised an eyebrow at the question, confusion evident in his voice. “Because you invited me? We were supposed to have tea today.”

Scar jolted in his seat, then proceeded to scramble out of said seat. “I’ll be right back! I have to go… feed Jellie!” This was quite obviously a lie seeing as Jellie hadn’t returned from her between seasons interdimensional travels yet. TFC’s laughter chased Scar into the wagon, where he frantically prepared the tea that he was totally planning on making because he definitely remembered his plans for the day.

After about five minutes of mildly concerning crashing sounds, Scar returned with two steaming mugs of tea (decorated with cat faces, of course) and a plate of chocolate chip cookies - Stress’ recipe if TFC wasn’t mistaken. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, appreciating the tea and cookies.

“So, how are you holding up this season, Scar?” TFC took a sip of green tea, looking out at the horizon.

“Oh you know, the usual. I don’t have my village anymore, but the magical misfits still come seeking my help.” He brought a cookie to his mouth and bit off half of it. “Not that I mind helping people!” He swallowed his mouthful before continuing. “XB was here last week convinced that he left his coat in season seven, but turns out it just ended up in one of Joe’s boxes.” He chuckled to himself, wiping crumbs off of his jacket as TFC stared at the distant ocean, lost in thought.

TFC broke the silence that had fallen. “You’re a good man, y’know that?” The wizard in question looked at TFC in surprise. He was used to ‘thank you’s, but the personal compliment caught him off guard. “You’ve created a safe space for folks from all sorts of places, and you’ve saved quite a few of them from bad people.”

Scar looked down, smiling at his cup of tea. He spoke quietly, a departure from his usual boisterousness. “Thanks TFC, that means a lot.”

Scar was in the middle of catching TFC up on what he missed from day one when something red and very fast crashed into the balcony. The something in question turned out to be Grian, shimmering wings protruding from his back. Something must have been wrong, since winged hermits tended to refrain from flying early in the season, in the name of fairness.

“Scar we need your- Oh heeey, I didn’t know you had company over!” He leaned on the railing, his urgency replaced with a forced cheerfulness as he (quite obviously) pretended nothing was wrong. What was probably supposed to be an easygoing smile stretched too wide, and his voice was more high pitched than usual. “How’s it goin’?”

Scar, completely oblivious, responded excitedly. “Oh, I was just telling TFC here about our adventure in the geode with Cleo!”

Grian’s uncomfortable smile grew wider, and his eyebrows furrowed. “That sounds great, do you think you’ll be done anytime soon?”

“Oh well, I’m not too sure. It depends on when we finish all of these cookies.”

“Oh that’s just wonderful,” Grian’s wings started to twitch behind him, “did you make those yourself?”

Scar took a breath, preparing for a tangent when TFC cut in, showing the poor fairy some mercy. “Alright Grian, out with it. What’s wrong?” Scar stared at Grian, somehow surprised that this wasn’t a completely ordinary visit.

Grian let out a long sigh. “Thank you so much TFC.” He turned his gaze to Scar. “We need a little help with curse breaking.”

Scar set down his mug and gave Grian his full attention, preparing himself for whatever strange curse one of the fairies had set on some poor hermit. “Really? How are you two cursing people already? It hasn’t even been a month!”

Grian’s tangent was accompanied by wild hand gestures that made it difficult to follow what he was saying. “Well, Pearl came up behind Mumbo and spooked him, he shouted something about not sneaking up on him, and now whenever he turns his back on her she teleports directly in front of him.” Grian looked nervously over his shoulder in the direction of Mumbo’s van. TFC followed his gaze, and burst into laughter again.

Mumbo was standing a few feet away from his campfire, spinning in circles and doubling over in laughter as Pearl kept popping up in front of him.

Scar pushed himself up from his chair, TFC followed suit. The pair headed to the door while Grian flew back down, Scar giving TFC a sort of briefing. “Alright, let’s go figure out what exactly Mumbo did before Pearl starts feeling particularly vengeful.”

It took two hours and a lot of trial and error (with TFC giving supremely unhelpful tips), but eventually Pearl could stand behind Mumbo again. At some point Scar accidentally applied the effect to both Grian and Mumbo, and he had to beg the two not to create a space time anomaly. But it was all fixed now, and TFC was sure Pearl’s revenge would be swift and cruel.

Scar made his way back up to the balcony, and the two continued their conversation. It was a good thing Scar had enchanted his mugs, something he had done back in season seven after his drinks kept getting abandoned and going cold.

After a few hours of peace (other than both Mumbo and Grian’s bases abruptly flipping upside down while the boys were inside), the pair was interrupted again by a voice behind them.

“Howdy, Scar. Oh, and howdy to you as well, TFC!”

Neither of them had heard Joe coming, so Scar jumped about a foot in the air while TFC nearly spat out his tea. It turned out that Cleo was there as well, looking quite a bit angrier than Joe, although that wasn’t too uncommon.

“Oh my goodness, Joe you scared the life out of me!” Scar held a hand to his chest and caught his breath as Cleo got right to business.

“Sorry about that Scar,” her voice was flat, and it was safe to assume that she was not, in fact, sorry about that. “But we have an emergency. It’s completely Joe’s fault, he-”

Joe smoothly stepped in front of his companion as he cut her off, “I wouldn’t say it’s entirely my fault, old magic is a fickle thing-”

Cleo shoved Joe aside, stepping in front once again. “He revived my leg!” She raised a foot off the ground and gestured at it with both hands.

Sure enough, both TFC and Scar looked down to see that Cleo’s right leg was significantly more flesh-coloured than the left, restored to what it presumably once was.

Scar’s lingering panic was instantly replaced by an amused grin as he gestured to the leg in question. “Cleo, why don’t you just get your leg reinfected? It’s not like zombies are hard to come by.”

The pair stood still, just blinking. (Completely in sync, it was eerie)

Cleo rounded on Joe and punched at his shoulder just as he raised a hand to deflect her fist. “How did you not think of that Joe?! I thought you knew everything there was to know about-” She gestured wildly about for a moment. “Everything?!”

“Shouldn’t you be some sort of zombie expert by now? How is that my responsibility?” The argument continued as the pair went back into the wagon and down the ladder. As they walked off, presumably to go find a cave, something occurred to TFC. He cupped his hands around his mouth to yell down at them.

“Cleo!” She turned around. “Don’t use Joe as bait!”

She snapped her finger like a defeated cartoon villain, as Joe turned to face her and presumably gave her grief for this evil plot.

It was only about five minutes after Cleo and Joe left (preceded by twenty minutes of arguing) that the next problem arrived, as it often did, in the form of Zedaph, Impulse, and Tango arriving on the shore of the village. TFC found this odd, seeing as how everyone was now connected by nether portals, but he assumed there would be an explanation shortly, even if it didn’t make a lick of sense.

Impulse shouted up from the ground, the three of them clustered near the front of the wagon. “TFC, we need your help!” Well that was a surprise, not many people asked for his assistance other than Scar. “We made an oopsie and Cleo said we could find you here!”

As every hermit knew, ‘oopsie’ was a versatile word with these three. It could mean anything between making a minor mistake in a build to banishing Impulse for the fifth time. “What happened this time?” TFC stood up and made his way down the ladder, since shouting down at them wasn’t very efficient and they didn’t seem inclined to come up.

Impulse started twisting his hands together while Zedaph and Tango tried their best to look innocent behind him. It didn’t work. “Weeell, Tango wanted a terraforming job done around his base, so we made a little deal for it.”

Oh boy. Not much good came out of magical deals, yet the other hermits continued to make them with each other. Demonic deals were especially tricky since the demon didn’t have precise control over their end of the deal, not that it stopped these three. “Tango offered me his first beacon in exchange for the job, and it turns out that a beacon is worth a lot more than I thought- it’s probably easier if we show you.”

“Quick FYI guys: firsts are very valuable in deals! It applies to you as well Impulse, not just the fae!” Scar called helpfully from his still seated position on the balcony.

They all ended up going over to Tango’s house/ shop, which was literally buried in a mound of dirt and stone, along with about three quarters of Bdubs’ giant moon house. That explains why they didn’t use the nether.

The earth was offended after being touched by demonic magic, but after a long negotiation TFC managed to convince it that Impulse meant no harm, and it was happy to return to its prior state. Tango was mildly annoyed that he would have to do the terraforming himself and give Impulse a beacon, but it was better than the wrath he would have faced from Bdubs.

By the time TFC and Scar returned to the Boatem village, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. While TFC admired the beauty of it, Scar just looked disappointed.

“I’m sorry.”

TFC raised an eyebrow at the wizard, a frown making its way onto his face. “What do you mean you’re sorry? Did you do something to the tea?”

Despite TFC’s attempted joke, Scar still stared at his perfectly polished shoes. “This was supposed to be a nice relaxing day to catch up, and people were just showing up left and right. I mean, we hardly got to spend any time together! Maybe I shouldn’t invite people over with all this wizard stuff going on.”

“But we did spend time together.” TFC’s rough hand landed on Scar’s shoulder, the latter looking up at the former, startled by the contact.

“Well yeah we had tea for a while but-”

TFC had to cut off Scar’s rambling or he would never get to his point. “Yes we had tea, but I’m talking about the rest of the day.” Scar seemed genuinely confused at this. “I helped you un-curse Pearl,” he did air quotes on the word ‘helped,’ “We watched Joe and Cleo argue together, and you came with us to fix Tango’s house.” Of course he didn’t do much other than laugh at Tango’s misfortune, but it was the thought that counted. “Just ‘cause it didn’t go to plan doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time.” After all, not much went according to plan on the hermitcraft server.

Now Scar was smiling. “So I didn’t ruin the day with magical misfits?”

“Not at all.” TFC reached for his mug and emptied it one last time, then stretched before heading out. “But now I gotta get going. I don’t like my chances against the mobs with my crappy iron gear.”

Scar waved once more as TFC disappeared into the nether portal. “Goodnight TFC! And thanks again, for everything!”

TFC smiled as he made his way through the nether tunnels back home. Scar did a lot more for the hermits than he realized, allowing them to be free with their magic in a way they couldn’t back home, TFC included. He’d created a home for all sorts of ‘magic misfits’ as Scar put it, and he performed an invaluable service, whether he realized it or not.

He’s a good kid. Just needs some reminding every once in a while.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft 8 #magic misfits au #tinfoilchef #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #pearlescentmoon #joe hills #zombiecleo #tangotek #impulsesv #zedaph #im not too confident on the Emotional bits but #practice makes perfect i suppose #theres a few things i implied here so feel free to ask and clear things up

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inkformyblood · 3 years

Text

i wish i was only as cruel

Jangobi Week 2021 Prompt #4 Forced to Work Together (Modern!AU, Background other relationships)

Obi-Wan carefully placed his tea down at his desk, the wood highlighted by a chain of rings from all the cups that had come before it, and settled into his seat. His office still felt oppressive to him — inherited quickly from Qui-Gon in the wake of his sudden passing — as it was still fitted with the dark wood and occasional twisted plant that his old teacher had favoured. Obi-Wan had tried to put his own touch on things, but found himself hampered time and time again by the guilt that twisted through his ribs like a living creature, settling to bite at his heart.

Pausing for a moment, Obi-Wan allowed himself to turn towards the large window set in the centre of the only wall uncovered by bookshelves and disguised filing cabinets. Beneath him, almost hidden through the heavy smog that rose from the twisted roads that could be mistaken for rivers, lay the city of Coruscant, lit in a fire of reds and sickly yellows.

The building, a set of law offices inhabited by every speciality possible, was quiet around him, except for the distant rumble of a trolley passing over one the floors above — the sound filtering down the towering central staircase — and the muted almost bubbling music from Plo Koon’s office two floors down. They had passed each other that morning, the other man smiling at him from behind his brightly patterned mask while his assistant, Wolffe — Obi-Wan had never quite been able to meet his eyes properly — nodded his greetings before readjusting the pile of files in his arms. Obi-Wan had been able to hear their voices, pitched low but he could still hear the note of care twisting through Wolffe’s words, the other man a constant presence at Plo Koon’s side.

His own assistant, Cody, was one of Wolffe’s half-brothers, proving time and time again that the universe was conspiring against Obi-Wan specifically, and that it truly was a small world for all that Coruscant was filled with people. Obi-Wan was surrounded by the children — the echoes as Jango called them when they let him — of the man he once loved with everything he was.

Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs of old regrets from his mind, Obi-Wan took a sip of his rapidly cooling tea, letting the slight bitter taste centre him for the day ahead, and turned to the first page of his paperwork.

⁂

“Tea, sir.”

Obi-Wan startled, eyes dry and aching as he blinked slowly, feeling the final lines of text sear into his eyes as he glanced up. Cody pointed towards the gently steaming cup next to his elbow, his brow creased in familiar worry lines, before shifting his grip on the notepad tucked beneath his arm like a shield. With a gentle smile to try and soothe some of the other man’s worries, Obi-Wan reached for the cup, and paused.

“Cody?”

“Sir?” Cody didn’t shift nervously from foot to foot, or duck his head to try and get away like some of his half-brothers would when confronted with Obi-Wan’s reproachful stare. He had never acted that way since the first day he walked through Obi-Wan’s office door, and pushed the older lawyer out for a break so Cody could organise his files in peace. But Obi-Wan knew the look on his face — the slightly widened eyes, the mild look of surprise communicated solely through a slightly raised eyebrow — although Obi-Wan had first learned it from Jango.

The thought sent a pang of grief through his heart, grief for what could have been, and his nails dug into his palms for a moment before he moved past the emotion, letting it flow through him rather than fester in his chest like a wound. “What is going on?”

“If I tell you, it’s an internal matter—” Cody looked like every word was being dragged out of him, the corner of one eye starting to twitch “—would you let us handle it?”

As if on cue, a crash echoed through the half-open door, followed by indistinguishable yells. Obi-Wan was standing in an instant, moving towards the landing as Cody sighed, a far too world-weary sigh for such a young man, and followed him, moving with an almost military-like precision.

Sound carried through the floors, and on the landings above and below him, Obi-Wan could see the familiar faces of his colleagues peering down, all to a man pretending they weren’t deeply invested in finding out what was going on. Glancing down towards the entrance, Obi-Wan felt his blood run cold.

Boil and Waxer stood in the glass entryway to the building, hackles raised and arms outstretched to bar the door from the man trying to argue his way inside. Numa, their adopted daughter, was curled into Kix’s arms, her bright blue braids the only part of her that was visible, the man hovering half tucked into a doorway.

“Boil, Waxer?”

Waxer turned, using the motion to check on Numa as he did so, and caught Obi-Wan’s eye. Next to him, he could sense Cody’s glare lessen, the other man raising a hand to press it into his eyes next to him. Even Cody’s organisation couldn’t account for the force of nature that was Jango Fett.

“Is Jango here to see me?” Through the glass, Obi-Wan saw Jango freeze, his arms lowering as he pressed them to his side, but couldn’t make out the expression on his face. Was he angry? Remorseful? Obi-Wan still woke from nightmares of their final parting, the rain crashing down on them both as Jango kissed him once — fierce and desperate, his hand leaving bruises on Obi-Wan’s hip — before he walked away from everything they had built together.

Waxer looked at Cody first, the gesture small but it spoke volumes, before nodding hesitantly.

Obi-Wan turned to Cody, catching the rapid-fire flashes of guilt and grief flickering over his face before it was tucked away once more. “I’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan reassured him, laying a careful hand on his arm and squeezing.

“If you’re sure, sir,” Cody said, hesitancy clear in every unspoken word kept in his chest.

“Let him up. I’ll see him in my office. I’m sure he would appreciate someone showing him the way.”

It was a low blow, but a deserved one as Obi-Wan saw Jango flinch at the reminder through the glass that while he was slowly rebuilding relationships with his sons — those that would let him following the clerical error that led to their existences — he knew nothing about Obi-Wan’s life anymore.

“Tell your brothers thank you, Cody. And I thank you as well for looking out for me,” Obi-Wan murmured, as the crowd began to slowly disperse, assistants corralling their lawyers back into their offices with a careful word or, in the case of Rex and Anakin, hoisting the man over his shoulder and carrying him when subtlety failed to work.

“I know he’s trying, but—” Cody broke off with a frown and a shake of his head.

“He’s here. I can hear him out, at least.”

“Would you like some company, sir?”

Obi-Wan carefully sat back down in his chair, drawing his cup of tea closer to him. He stared at the dark liquid as he thought, breathing in the sweet floral scent. “No, thank you Cody. I believe this is a conversation best had by ourselves.”

Cody’s frown only deepened, too harsh an expression to have found its place on such a young face, and Obi-Wan sighed softly. “I believe Plo Koon was needing some help?”

It was an obvious ploy, but one he knew would work. Given Plo Koon’s involvement in their own case, all of Jango’s sons had a soft spot for the man, although he often had more than enough help in the form of his ‘Wolf Pack’.

“Sir.”

Cody turned to leave, and tensed. His bulk was blocking most of Obi-Wan’s view of the door, but the atmosphere in the room grew cold. “Buir.”

“Eyayad.”

Jango’s voice was softer than Obi-Wan remembered, tempered by time. Cody’s back stiffened further at the endearment, glancing back over his shoulder at Obi-Wan — worry clear in his eyes — before he marched out of the room.

Jango’s hair was speckled with grey, and longer than Obi-Wan remembered, curling around his ears. His face was lined and scarred, but his smile was the same — causing Obi-Wan’s stomach to flip reflexively, warmth flooding through him.

“I see you still need to cause an entrance,” he murmured, gesturing for Jango to sit opposite him. The man did so, glancing around the room with equal parts curiosity and apprehension, his gaze never fully landing on Obi-Wan.

“I didn’t want our first meeting back to be like this,” Jango sighed, scrubbing a hand across his eyes, leaning forward for a moment — looking as vulnerable as Obi-Wan had ever seen him, stripped out of his customary dark green court suit — before he settled back in his chair. “I had plans before I, before—” He broke off.

“Before you left shortly after finding out that you had inadvertently fathered hundreds of children?”

“I was a starving student at the time of those “donations”,” Jango snapped, catching himself before he escalated any further. “But that doesn’t excuse me running away.”

“It’s been nearly a decade, Jango,” Obi-Wan said, running a thumb against the faded pattern on his mug, feeling the heat press at his skin. “I thought you were dead. I mourned you.”

“I can’t apologise enough, cyar’ika. I was a coward.” He spat the word with more venom than Obi-Wan had ever heard. “And I will spend the rest of my life trying to correct my mistakes, not just the ones I inflicted on you, but on my children. But, what I came here before is more than that.”

“Oh?”

Obi-Wan sat back in his chair, saw Jango flinch at the appearance of his court persona, before the other man straightened in his chair. They had met in court, a courtship of arguments and battles fought with words, coffee and meals exchanged in the dead of night when neither of them could even see straight anymore. Jango had quit prosecuting when he left, fleeing without a word into the night, but he still knew how to pull on that mask, like an old familiar coat.

They had been legendary, and Obi-Wan couldn’t hide the grin that slipped out.

“I’m here because I’m being framed for murder. And you are the only person who can help me, even if you must hate me right now.”

“Jango, I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

Obi-Wan sighed, letting his head drop until his forehead was pressed into the soft leather adorning the top of his desk, breathing in the age old scent of varnish and coffee. “I will help you though. But you have to tell me everything.”

Jango could have carved from marble, but he nodded slowly, hands curled into fists so tight that Obi-Wan wondered if they would break.

“Okay, cyar’ika. What would you like to know?”

#jangobiweek #jangobiweek2021 #jangobi #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #star wars #my writing

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justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

Cogs in a Steel Heart

Chapter 2: Building Trust

Hugo struggles to adjust and Cyrus gets the tea. Aka. Hugo’s got a lot of complaining to do, and Cyrus is having way to much fun watching him struggle at the whole ‘teammates’ thing.

Link to ao3 version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24331849/chapters/59001811#workskin

The next time Hugo came to report to Cyrus, he and his new team had already completed the water trial. Now most people would be a bit more excited after completing an ancient trial that lay incomplete for centuries. Or maybe just twenty years? Cyrus wasn’t paying attention when Donella explained that. Point was, the way Cyrus saw it Hugo should have been happy, or at least proud.

He was not.

“It’s like pulling teeth with these people!” Hugo tugged at his own hair for emphasis. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive!”

Cyrus raised an eyebrow as the usually calm and in control Hugo proceeded to have as near to a tantrum as he’d ever gotten, ranting and waving his hands like a madman. It was almost...funny.

“The firecracker keeps interrupting me when I’m working, and posturing about catching me in my ‘evil’ scheme-” And heavens above, Hugo actually made air quotes. Cyrus hadn’t realized he even knew what those were, “-as if I’d ever be stupid enough to make something to defeat them in the middle of their camp, what kind of rookie does he think I am? All he’s really doing is getting underfoot when I am trying to help! I need this to work out too! He’s just...uugh!” He threw his hands in the air with such violence it sent him stumbling backwards into a tree.

Cyrus bit the inside of his lip as Hugo sprang back up to punch the tree and scream at it. Thugs don’t smile on the job, and never let it be said Cyrus was not a professional. But he’d never seen Hugo so completely frazzled by simple human interaction. It was karmic really, considering everything Hugo’s usual interactions with people.

Eventually Hugo’s strength gave out and he leaned his forehead against the tree, looking the picture of defeat. And really, if two kids was all it took to wipe him out, Cyrus should have recommended him for babysitting to his neighbors ages ago. Would be good for him.

Hugo let out a deep sigh as his shoulders sagged. “And then there’s Goggles,” he said as he turns himself around to face Cyrus. “He’s a whole ‘nother problem. Always trying to compare notes, talk about “how my day was,” showing off to the kid...” Hugo crosses his arms across his chest. “And he’s not even that good at it! Like half the things he makes blow up! But when I point out his errors, which could get us blown up mind you, he gets all passive-aggressive and tries to do it his way and like come on! I’m not going to die in an explosion because he’s too stubborn to take the help he obviously needs!” Hugo huffed and turned his head away.

“If they are such a hindrance, why not just take both the totems and complete the trials by yourself?” Cyrus points out. As much as he was loving this, they did have a schedule to keep, and the sooner they were done, the sooner they could both go home. He’d get to see Mona in person again, instead of the picture tucked safely against his heart and her daily letters.

Hugo shifted from foot to look, hugging his arms close. “They might not be completely useless in trials,” Hugo grumbled. Then jumped up. “Not that I don’t do most of the work! like 95 percent really, they couldn't do it without me at all.” He ran his fingers through his hair and refused to meet Cyrus’s eyes.

Oh no. Cyrus knew that look. That’s the ‘I screwed up look.’ But surely it couldn’t be too bad, the trial was complete after all.

“But they might have helped a bit at the end there, especially with the final test,” Hugo finished. “I didn’t see through the enchantment like at all, but Goggles,” Hugo sighed. “He pushed it off like it was nothing and dragged me and Firecracker out all by himself.”

Oh. That wasn’t so bad. Why had he been so upset about that? Donella had told him to infiltrate for a reason. His mind flashed back to the first mission he’d ever had with the kid.

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

“What did you do?” Hugo screamed in his face, half soaked and feral as a wild cat.

“My job,” Cyrus replied as he pushed the body out of his way in the rain soaked street.

“You ruined the job!” Hugo threw a hand down towards the body between them. “It took me months to get him to trust me!”

Cyrus crossed his arms. “He was about to kill you.” Kill didn’t quite cut it. Rip in half was more fitting, and much as Cyrus disliked the kid, the scene of the twig-like body struggling against an iron grip as the man’s expression twisted into one of sadistic delight...

“I had it handled!” Hugo snarled. “I could have stopped him in a hundred different ways!” He shoved a finger in Cyrus’s chest. “Now we’ll never know where the supply was coming from, and it's all because of you!”

Cyrus slowly reached out and pushed the fingers down. Hugo’s expression tightened for a second under his grip. “My orders were to ensure that man was not a threat. He was a threat. Therefore, I did my job.” He let go and Hugo instantly jumped back, clutching his hand close to his heart and eyeing Cyrus with fury in his eyes.

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

“Hmmm,” Cyrus mused. Out of the corner of his eye, Hugo flinched at the sound. “Did you say thank you?” Cyrus asked.

Hugo’s head snapped up. “What?”

“When someone saves you, normally you’re supposed to say thank you,” Cyrus shrugged. “It’s polite.”

Hugo stared at him, mouth hanging open. “I-I totally forgot about that.”

“Might want to give it a shot,” Cyrus pushed off his own tree and started walking away. “See you next week!”

Behind him Hugo let out a very frustrated groan.

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

“And then he goes to the boss, whining about how trigger happy I am. Me!” Cyrus took a sharp swig from his drink, feeling the alcohol burn its way down. “After I saved his life!” He smashed the cup down on the table.

“Hey man, I get it,” Lester gives him a hearty slap on the back. “I served my time with the crazy lady and the brat.”

“He’s something else alright,” Cyrus scowled into his drink. “Like some kind of heartless machine.” He turned to look Lester in his slightly blurry face. “You know his eyes were completely blank when that guy was trying to kill him, it's like he wasn’t even there. Freaky.”

“Maybe the crazy lady made him in the back lab,” Lester jokes. “Explains why he never leaves.”

“Makes sense,” Cyrus’s grip tightened on the handle of his mug. “Robot designed to make thugs miserable.”

“Hey man.” Lester shoved him lightly with his shoulder. “You can always quit like I did.”

“Yeah,” Cyrus took another swig and sighed. “But winter is coming, and Mona and I can’t really afford me outta work right now.”

“That sucks man,” Lester took a sip of his own drink. “Hey!” he slammed the mug down so quickly Cyrus nearly fell out of his seat. “I think I know a guy who can help you!”

Cyrus shook his head as he righted himself on his stool. “You do? What’s his name?”

Lester went cross eyed as he tried to think. “No idea,” he said, and grinned. “But when I do I’ll let you know!”

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

Hugo’s team had barely crossed the border to the next kingdom by the time it came for Hugo’s next report, a fact that Cyrus hoped would mean it was mercifully short. He was wrong.

Hugo seemed in a better mood as he approached, arms loose and swinging. “I’ve got some good news for the report,” he said with a two fingered salute.

Cyrus grunted, and Hugo took that as an opportunity to launch into an elaborate story about him and Firecracker. Apparently Hairstripe, who Cyrus assumed was Goggles and not the donkey, had suggested Hugo and Firecracker go on an errand for “team bonding.” Hugo had added air quotes around the last two words, and heavens was that going to become a thing?

According to Hugo, the whole trip had been an absolute bore, in some nowhere town where the only building of consequence seemed to be the jailhouse, (A jailhouse Cyrus did not remember being there when he’d passed through) which had quickly turned into an unmitigated disaster when some noisy shopper had tried to steal their ingredient from Hugo’s hands.

“Well I wasn’t going to stand for that,” Hugo rolled his eyes. “But the shopkeeper was inhuman, I’m telling you. I couldn’t schmooze anything more than a promise not to sell it until sunset, and then only to the party with the most money by the end of the day.”

“How unfeeling,” Cyrus states dryly.

“I know right?” Hugo huffed as he placed a hand on his chest. “No one can resist my schmoozing!” Where was I? Oh yes. Then Firecracker insisted we work for the extra money.” He spat the word work like it was an insult. “Instead of just scamming some quick cash. I pointed out we couldn’t exactly get a job, and he said we could just sell firecrackers.”

Oh that’s going to make this story confusing Cyrus thought. Firecracker selling Firecrackers, it sounds like a kids rhyme Mona would read to the kids next door.

“Meanwhile our dear commentators were doing absolutely nothing with their time, even as we started getting quite a few customers. So naturally I schmoozed up to them to figure out what was going on,” Hugo flipped his hair dramatically.

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. Some confidence after it failed you so miserably earlier in the day, he didn’t say.

“But the blind fools were completely unimpressed,” Hugo pouted. “And then they tried to frame me for thievery. Me!”

The sheer look of outrage on Hugo’s face made the corner of Cyrus’s mouth twitch up. So much for schmoozing.

“I escaped, naturally.” Hugo waved his hand in the air. “But Firecracker got caught when they accused him of stealing their fireworks.”

At which point Hugo derailed the story to rant about how he didn’t really want to save the kid, really! But there was no way Hairstripe would let him stay if he didn’t bring him back, so he really didn’t have a choice, blah, blah, blah.

Honestly it sounded more like Hugo was trying to justify it to himself after the first thirty minutes, but who was Cyrus to judge?

“The point is,” Hugo said as he finally stopped ranting, “I went to the jail as the sun was rapidly sinking in the sky, certain we were going to lose. Only to see the jailhouse before me explode into a gazillion pieces as Firecracker came running out the side.”

That explains why I didn’t see the jail house, Cyrus thought, and why there was a burning pile of rubble while I was walking through.

“Firecracker was pretty happy to see me,” Hugo smirked. “Apparently he didn’t think I would actually come back for him. I asked how he managed to blow up the building when the police had taken all his supplies. Turns out exploding moss grows on old brick. Who knew right?”

“Who indeed,” Cyrus said.

“And this,” Hugo raised a single finger. “Is where I succeeded in forwarding my infiltration goal. You see, I proposed a fiendishly clever plan to get revenge on those who robbed us, and get the prize, and you know what? Yong actually listened to me! He totally backed me up when I told them the exploding moss was a rare alchemic ingredient, and didn’t even lose his cool when one of them held a knife to his neck and demanded we tell them how to use it!”

Hugo threw back his head and laughed at the memory. “The look on his face when it exploded in his hands is one I will treasure for years,” he gasped as he wiped away a tear.

“And exploding a rival helps with your infiltration how?” Cyrus crossed his arms.

“I’m building trust,” Hugo waved the question away.

“Blowing people up doesn’t seem like the most trustworthy habit,” Cyrus pointed out. Especially for someone who is trying not to get himself caught by unstable alchemists willing to destroy whole buildings.

“Oh please, the kid blows up everything in his path if he can help it. I’m just speaking his language. Besides,” Hugo’s shoulders straightened. “I can’t keep up the goody-two shoes act twenty-four seven. I’d go mad. But this way, I’m causing problems for them. So they’ll see me as an asset they can exploit and keep me around.”

Assets for exploitation weren’t typically sent on feel-good-get-along missions with teammates, Cyrus didn’t say. No one cares enough to try to make their work life pleasant. He should know. He had worked for Donella for six years. This Hairstripe, or Goggles, or whatever his real name was, seemed to genuinely want Hugo to feel at home, despite his less than stellar introduction.

But there was no sense pointing that out to Hugo, he thought as he watched the boy preen under the weight of his own cleverness. Not when they had a mission to complete. The less Hugo noticed, the less it would hurt when he inevitably had to leave.

#varian and the seven kingdoms #varian and the 7 kingdoms #seven kingdoms au #varian #hugo the human #yong #cyrus

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catgirlthecrazy · 5 years

Text

Muse and Knight

Warning: this fanfic contains major spoilers through Tiamat’s Wrath.

AO3

Summary: The transition from uneasy allies to family doesn’t happen in a single moment. Not even a dramatic one. It’s a slow change, like a sunset. You can’t see it happening, just see the results when it’s already happened.

Holden and Clarissa’s relationship, through the years.

The coffee machine was broken. Again. Holden pressed his forehead into the cool brushed steel surface of the machine. “I don’t ask for much. Really, I don’t. Is this so unreasonable?” The red text of the error message shown even through his closed eyelids. It seemed almost irritated at him for expecting it to perform the function that was the entire purpose of its existence.

The galley door slid open. “Oh,” a soft voice said. Clarissa hovered at the galley door.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re up.”

Clarissa seemed to teeter on the edge of leaving. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were awake."

Holden shrugged. "Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d start shift early. Or, I was going to." He gestured helplessly at the red error message. Holden’s head already ached in anticipation of caffeine withdrawal.

Clarissa frowned and crossed the galley, inspecting the error message. "It’s not working?” She power-cycled the coffee maker and hit the brew button again.

“Already tried that,” Holden said. As if agreeing, the machine buzzed angrily and spat out the same error message as before.

“Hmm. Let me take a look.” Clarissa left, and returned with a bag of tools and parts. A minute later she had the machine on the floor, back panel removed and parts exposed to the open air. Not for the first time, Holden was struck by a sudden sense of surreality. Just a handful of years ago, this woman had tried to destroy him and everyone he loved. He could still remember the murderous rage she’d inspired in him. Now she was fixing his coffeemaker, and he was weirdly ok with that.

He’d like to say that the assault on the slow zone had been the tipping point. The moment when she’d moved in his mind from “person who’d tried to kill him” to “part of his crew.” But these sorts of things never worked like that. It was like a sunrise: you couldn’t see the sky turning from black to blue while it was ongoing. You could only notice the results after they’d already happened.

“Ha!” Clarissa pulled out something metallic and charred, with little dangling wires like tentacles. “Power leads burnt out.”

“Is that hard to fix?"

"No, this part swaps out pretty easy.” She opened a utility organizer labeled Replacement Parts: Galley in neat handwriting that definitely wasn’t Amos’. She pulled out the pristine twin of the burnt out part and wired it into the machine. She put the machine back together, and ran diagnostics. This time the message was a happy green. She made a little animal noise of satisfaction. “There, all fixed.”

Holden clapped her on the shoulder. “You are my favorite person in the solar system.” He turned to the machine and started a new brew. “You want me to make some for you?” When she didn’t answer, he turned to look at her.

There was an odd expression on Clarissa’s face, one his caffeine-deprived mind couldn’t quite decipher. “I… yes, I would love that,” she said.

Weeks later, Holden would learn that Clarissa actually hated coffee. That morning, though, she drank the whole cup.

***

Pátria was a big colony. To Holden, a child of cramped and crowded Earth, that still felt a little strange. Pátria only had a few settlements, and only one that could rate the label ‘city’- barely. But by the fledgling standards of extra-solar colonies, it was a metropolis. It had paved roads and a sewage system and real buildings not made from scrap and mud. And it had recreational swimmers.

The day was uncomfortably hot, the kind of hot that made his shirt damp. A few families with young children were splashing in the local lake on the outskirts of the town. A floating platform had been set up in a deeper part of the lake. One adolescent took a running leap off and cannonballed into the lake, splashing his friends and prompting screams and shouts. A few nearby waterbirds croaked their annoyance and flew off. Holden found himself grinning.

“People do this for fun ?” Bobbie’s voice was acrid with disgust and amusement.

“What, swim? It’s not that uncommon on Earth,” he said.

“Those birds have been pooping in there. And the fish. And whatever the hell kind of microbes they’ve got.”

Holden shrugged. “That’s true on Earth too. People still swim in ponds and lakes there. Remind me to tell you about some of my family’s trips to Flathead Lake.”

She shot him a look. “Yeah, and that's also disgusting. But at least Earth lakes have our flavor of shit and microbes in it. This will have alien shit and microbes in it. Who knows what that does?”

Holden opened his mouth to answer, but Clarissa beat him to it. “They test the water regularly here. It’s not safe to drink without treatment, but you can swim in it just fine. So long as you don’t swallow too much, anyway.” She was taking off her shoes and rolling up her jumpsuit pantlegs as she talked. “I looked it up before we landed.” She set her shoes aside, socks neatly tucked in, and walked purposefully towards the water. It took Holden a second to understand why. Then he grinned and shucked off his own shoes.

Bobbie groaned. “If your feet melt into green slime, don’t come complaining to me,” she called.

They both ignored her. Clarissa was already up to her ankles by the time Holden reached the water. Her face was turned up to the sun like a flower, her expression pure bliss.

“I don’t think I’ve been anywhere near a real lake since I was a kid,” Holden said. The water was delightfully cold. The soft wet sand slid comfortably between his toes.

“Last time I was near a lake was when me and Amos were trying to get off Earth. Not much time for swimming then.”

“And before that?”

“Probably the same lake, the last time I summered there with my parents. We used to go there every other year. It was… nice.” She had the same distant tone she got, discussing her old life. He’d never pressed her much about it. So Holden changed the subject.

“I forgot how good cold water feels on a hot day,” he said. He crouched down and started splashing water on his face, careful to keep his mouth closed as he did so.

Clarissa was digging out handfuls of sand out of the lake bottom and watching them flow through her fingers underwater. “I know. I almost want to just dunk myself in and float for a while."

"But?”

“But I don’t fancy walking around in a soaking wet jumpsuit the rest of the day.”

“Those colonists got their swimsuits from somewhere. We’ve got a few hours. We could go get some. Have some shore leave on the beach.

"You think anyone else will be interested?” Her tone was amused. Holden glanced behind him. Bobbie was still shaking her head at the whole affair in amused disgust. Amos was staring at them with the blank non-comprehension of someone watching a foreign religious ritual. Alex and Naomi were back on the Roci, but he suspected their reaction would be much the same as Bobbie’s. Lake swimming wasn’t something people did outside of Earth- or it hadn’t been until now. And Baltimore didn’t have any bodies of water a sane person would want to swim in. It occurred to Holden that, though Clarissa wasn’t the only other Earther on the crew, she was probably the only one who shared any of his fondness for the place.

“Maybe not,” he said. “Do we need anyone else?”

She smiled. “I guess we don’t.”

By the time they were done at the lake, the day was nearly gone. The two of them walked back to the Roci’s landing pad, chatting animatedly, beneath a sky transitioning from blue to azure to black.

***

When you lived day in and day out with the same people on a small ship, a certain level telepathy emerged. From the tone of Naomi’s humming, or the way Bobbie took a ladder, or the rhythm of Alex’s fingers on the controls, Holden could take a barometer reading of each of his crew. So when Holden saw Clarissa sitting in the galley, gripping her mug of tea in a very particular way, he knew something was very wrong. Unfortunately, the telepathy didn’t tell him why.

To buy himself time, he started making coffee. Holden knew so much detail about his crew personal and work lives that, whatever their mood was, he usually had plenty of context to guess what the cause was. He didn’t know of anything in Clarissa’s life that could be behind her anxious mood. She hadn’t had any fights with the other crew that he knew of. There weren’t any looming mechanical problems or existential threats. He wondered how to go about asking what was bothering her.

Holden sat down at the table across from her. “What’s bothering you?”

Her eyes focused on him, like she’d only just noticed he was there. Then she laughed. “Always the direct approach.”

He grinned and shrugged. “I’m not very good at this.”

She grinned back for a moment. Then it faded. “I got a message from my sister.”

Two thoughts collided in Holden’s head: I thought your sister was dead slammed into I hope she’s doing well and jumbled together in his mind. Just barely, he stopped himself from blurting I hope she’s dead out loud. He knew Clarissa had siblings besides Julie. She never talked about her birth family except in the past tense, so it was easy to forget that most of them were still alive.

“Not good news, I take it?”

“My father is dead.”

The news was like a dropped tool in an empty cargo hold. Her father. Jules-Pierre Mao. The man who had probably held the record for bloodiest hands in the solar system until Marco Inaros came along to steal the title. It was hard for Holden to think of the arrogant man he’d encountered on Luna so many years ago as related to the tired looking mechanic in front of him. The Venn Diagram between the two had so little overlap these days that they were nearly separate circles in his mind. “Um. Wow.” He took a long pull from his coffee. He couldn’t make this about his own feelings right now. “How are you feeling right now?”

She didn’t answer for a long moment, but Holden chose to wait and sip his coffee. He didn’t have to wait long. “When I was young, he defined my life. Father was like a gravity well. So much revolved around him, and you couldn’t pass near him without accounting for how he’d alter your trajectory. Now he’s gone, and it’s hardly worth a story on the news feeds.” She smiled wryly. “He would have hated that.”

Holden frowned into his coffee. “You know, now that you mention it, that’s kind of weird. I mean, yeah, it’s been a while since he was in the news, but he was kind of a big deal back in the day. I’m surprised I haven’t heard more about this.”

“I’m not. He was held in Mossoró when the rocks fell. They were hit bad by tsunamis. They couldn’t find most of the bodies. It’s only now that the courts have made it official.” Clarissa’s voice was so flat, like she was reading off a list.

“So you’ve known this was coming.” Holden wondered if that was the reason for her mood. He could remember one of his grandmothers, who’d been gravely ill for so long before she died that he’d felt more relief at her passing than loss. And with that relief, guilt.

“I suppose I did.” Clarissa cocked her head in bemusement. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that. You’re the one who put him in prison.” There was no hint of reproach in her voice. Almost, they could have been talking about a famous football player whose career Holden hadn’t kept up with.

Holden shrugged. “Honestly, I kind of stopped giving a fuck about him once he was in prison. So long as he couldn’t start wars, I didn’t really care.” Holden winced. “I uh, may not be the most comforting person to talk to about this.”

Clarissa just smiled at him. “I think he’d hate that even more than the lack of news coverage.”

Holden wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. “So… You sound pretty calm about this. But I can tell something’s bugging you. Anything you want to talk about?”

Clarissa frowned into her mug. “When I got the message that he was dead, my first thought was 'good.’ I don’t like that.”

Holden took a long sip from his coffee to buy himself time. “No love lost between you two, then?”

“I don’t feel anything about him. No love, no hate. I’m just very, very glad that he’s gone forever now. And I don’t like that I feel that way. I didn’t think I was that kind of person anymore.”

“I mean, to be fair, it makes me a little happy to know he’s gone for good.” Clarissa looked up at him sharply, and he shrugged. “It probably doesn’t speak well of me as a person. But I think it’s just part of being human.”

“Maybe.” She stared at her drink. “I still feel like I’ve failed somehow.”

Holden strongly disagreed. But he knew by now that she didn’t really want him to prove her wrong. Just listen while she worked through it on her own.

And the truth was, Holden could sympathize with her sorrow, but he couldn’t entirely empathize with it. Mao was her father. He understood intellectually why parent-child relationships could fall apart so completely and irreparably that she could react this way. He could agree entirely with the reasons why. He knew that the only right you had with anyone in life was the right to walk away. But he couldn’t really feel it. He had always gotten on well with his own parents. It was hard to imagine anything different.

He took her hand. “Well, for what it’s worth, I like the person you are now,” he said.

“And who do you think that person is?”

“The person who fixes things. The person who won’t let so much as a squeaking hinge stick around for long. The person who builds things.”

She didn’t answer him. She just smiled a small smile. They sat together in companiable silence for a long time.

***

When his interrogators told him about the body on Medina, Holden thought they were lying. Surely, it was a tactic to make him admit something. Surely, the photos and autopsy reports were fake. Surely, they couldn’t have found Clarissa Mao, shot twice amidst a half dozen dead Laconian soldiers. When Holden finally let himself believe them, he waited for them to tell him who else in his family had died. Months, then years passed, and the news never came.

He couldn’t grieve. He couldn’t afford to. If the Laconians knew just how deep a weakness it was, if they understood that she was more to him that a mere crewmate, they’d never stop hammering away at it. So he threw all his efforts into diverting them. He opened up as much as he could on the alien threat. The Tempest anomaly. The Ilus artifact. Elvi Okoye.

When he finally got free, he was too preoccupied to think much about older pain. The flight to the gate, Bobbie’s death, Amos’ strange resurrection: all of these overwhelmed his attention like a well lit room overwhelms a single candle. When the grief reminded him of its presence, it wasn’t how he expected it.

The cabin door squeaked. It was such a soft little sound, it took Holden weeks to notice it. He was so wrapped up in the joy of being back on the Roci, of not being on Laconia, that most other things were background noise. But as time went by, as they passed through the Laconia gate, through the slow zone and into the Gossner system, Holden noticed the small rattling whine of a mechanism not quite in alignment.

“It’s just a squeak.” Naomi shrugged with her hands when he mentioned it to her. “I can have Amos put it on the to-do list, but I guarantee you he’s got a couple dozen other items on it already. This might never make it to the top.”

“I know it’s pretty minor in the grand scheme of things,” Holden said. Experimentally he cycled the door a couple more times to see if the noise was consistent. “I just can’t remember the last time a squeak stuck around this long."

He meant to sound casual. Evidently he failed, because Naomi’s expression softened. "I miss her too.”

Holden sagged a little, like a spring losing tension. “I wanted to believe it was a bad dream. Or a lie to make me admit something. The Laconians sprang it on me suddenly. I think they were trying to surprise me into letting something slip.” He could still remember the feeling like a dunk in ice. Like a confirmation of his worst nightmares.

“Did they tell you how it happened?”

“Some. 'Likely involved in terrorist activities’ was I think how they put it.”

“She saved my life. She saved the whole underground.” And Naomi told him the story of the jailbreak, the traitor, and Clarissa’s last stand.

Holden couldn’t speak. In broad strokes, what Naomi told him wasn’t far off from what he’d already guessed. But he hadn’t fully appreciated just how much he owed to Clarissa’s sacrifice. Naomi’s life was one item at the top of a very long list.

Naomi pulled him into a hug, and Holden broke. His body shook with the quiet sobs that he’d never allowed himself on Laconia. She murmured soothing words whose content mattered less than their tone. He could feel some of her tears wet on his forehead. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that. He had the raw sense of having burned a deep infection out of a wound.

“I’ve got a few spare hours,” Naomi said. “I could grab some tools. We could fix it together."

"That,” Holden said, voice still ragged, “would be great.”

#the expanse #Jim Holden #Clarissa Mao #fanfic #spoilers #Tiamat's Wrath Spoilers #my fanfic #my post

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exquisitelyeco · 6 years

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Mirror, mirror on the wall, do I see myself at all?

Mirror mirror on the wall, Do I see myself at all? What do others, looking at me, What do they think, HOW do they see? Do I see who I really am, Or just the part of me that is a sham? Looking at others, what do I see, Is it love looking back at me? People, do they see me as I am, Or just the crap that leaves me damned? When I look at them, What do I see? Am I choosing the love, I want to look at me? This post is uncomfortable. Please only read this if you will not be offended. It is not meant to offend, as is, in part, a shade of the strand ‘An answer in part, Mr. Fry’ that I posted a while ago. Recently I was asked to do somebody a favour. They wanted me to meet some friends of theirs and spend sometime with them. I was absolutely furious. The people they asked were some who I knew had done things that made me angry. Actually, meet them? I wanted to batter them!

I was so uppity and frothing at the mouth with indignation, that I should even DARE to be asked! Now as you know, I am learning to be more honest and less people pleasing. So I am saying what I really feel, when I can. And thank God for His grace, that my church IS a safe place to practice! However….it does mean, certain poor people are in the firing line, of a missile! So I decided, how to respond. I emailed the person back, and told them, in no uncertain terms, that NOTHING would induce me to meet these people. That actually, one was, a cruel, sadistic bastard, and that if I had the opportunity, he would not get a cup of tea, but a boot up his behind. I said I would email one of the pastors of the church and ask their advice, and if, mind you IF, and I certainly did NOT believe so, they helped me to see this another way, I might be prepared to change my mind. Of course my poster emailed back. And I thank God, He had worked on my heart. Taking the crumb I offered, and that was all, that ‘if’….. Just like the wicked step mother in Cinderella……how relevant.....My pastor pointed out that we all have fallen short. And what if they treated people nastily, because they knew what they had done wrong? That if we want, we can bring Christ to people. And unbelievably, my spirit responded. Don’t get me wrong. I had to ask God. And nope, I weren’t on me knees begging! I just said, when it came into my mind, ‘You’ll have to help.’ In fact I was worse. I told God, “I’ll do it for you, not for them.” And I kept saying that. But something weird was going on. Although I had moments of not wanting too, and moments I could feel my heart harden in anger and condemnation, I felt almost joyful. Peaceful.

And God worked in me. Amazing! Truly amazing. I started to remind myself how I can be. How selfish, how sadistic and unkind. And I found myself saying sorry to God for thinking of pointing the finger. And then I’d feel the hurt of my past, threatening the visit, and I’d say, “I’ll do it for you, not for them.” But my heart wasn’t in it. Part of me wanted to be like Jesus. It was so strange. I asked my friends to pray. That I would manage well. I was so concerned I’d blow it, and hurt them, because of my froth! And when I met them, I did. Manage well, that is….not froth……In fact it was incredible! I found my self really enjoying their company, seeing God in them. Seeing who they were! And I want to see them again too! There was something really special about them. Today at church I was listening to the preach. And I remembered the words of a song: ‘I’m going to look twice at you, Until I see the Christ in you.’ How profound is that? It’s beautiful. If I had not opened my heart, even though it was just a tiny, teeny bit, God could not have filled my heart with love. And because of that, I looked twice. And I saw Christ, and it was truly beautiful. I was so glad my pastor, Susan, helped me out of my hissy fit. My mouth frothing indignation and self righteousness. And since then, I have recalled MORE horrid things I have done. And I dared point the finger at them! I truly see I nearly fell over one of my planks! (See my post ‘Planks,’if you want to know what I’m on about!)

When I think that God loves me REGARDLESS of all my shit. And there is SO much shit! And He loves me AS I am now! How humbling. How dare I condemn. I do not like what I have heard about this person. I know they have caused somebody pain. But I also now know, that is NOT who they ARE. How I judge who people ARE by what they have done! Sure, what we do matters. James in the bible said it very well. (James 2 v15-17) That if you wish your brother well, when he is hungry, but do not feed him, you are in sin. But he meant it a different way. He meant look at YOURSELF. Are you following the Lord and acting how He would? Because if not, you are in error and need to sort it out. In my own way, I was guilty of that. I would have said I wished them well, but buggered if I was going to help in anyway! I was in error, just as James said! I was sinning because of my hardness of heart and condemnation of a person. As if I was perfect! And what does God do? He blesses me! He changed my heart. My begrudging, judgmental heart. And He helped me to grow, even though I only gave Him conditional crumbs to do it with ‘I’ll do it for you, not for them!’ How humble is our God! He could have got mad at ME! And I also saw the truth in what measure we judge others, we ourselves will be judged. And yet God softened my heart. He allowed me to measure with HIS standard. No condemnation. And what blessing it had brought me! I have new friends. Special friends, who can give me life, and who I can give life too. And if God had condemned and judged my crumbs, what a miracle would have been missed. To think that God blessed me and helped me grow. Because I chose, albeit begrudging at the start, to want to, ‘Look twice at you, until I see the Christ in you.’ At that is part of me growing up. Learning to look past a persons past and actions, and to SEE the person.

That is what Christ does with us. Even more so! He is GOD, and with no sin, and He loves ME, who has more sin than is dumped in the Atlantic, or is it the Pacific, by the USA garbage ships everyday! No condemnation there US…..well, only a TAD! The oceans a bit muddy now…………..I am nobody. Yet the God of all creation looks twice at me. And He sees the Christ in me. The very breath of God that I was created to be, before all the sin marred, scarred and deformed my being. If I was Him, I’d probably vomit……But He has to truly be God, cos He doesn’t! My hardness of heart would not just have hurt them, and that is where God was so much MORE Gracious. It would have hurt ME. I would be blind and self righteous, behind my planks. Just like the Pharisees. But God, in His mercy, used my pathetic offering and changed EVERYTHING. I have had a double blessing! Good friends and a healed heart. How Good is my God? What I also saw today, was the words, ‘I’m going to look twice at you, until I see the Christ in you,’ I also need to apply to myself! I have times I loath myself so much. I hate myself and want to hurt and punish myself. And God doesn’t want me to do that. He hurts when I do that. But for me, it’s a battle not too. I HATE thinking Im fat. So I will not eat properly. But more, I beat myself up, over and over, when I make mistakes. I judge and condemn myself. And Jesus is unhappy about that. He wants me to see me as He does. In Him. The person He created me to be. That’s a battle. Because a lot of me doesn’t want too. I want to hate me. I want to control me and MAKE myself do things. And you know what? It’s killing me. So I need to learn to love me. What blew me away was how much meeting those people meant to THEM. I could feel real love. For ME. They thought a I was special. Why? I was horrible, until my pastor helped me see my planks. It shames me to think of it. And it makes me so grateful that God softened my heart, and gave me something that I did not deserve. Love and friendship. I can never get over it when people say they love me, or I’m special. Because I so don’t see it in me.

Although my pride does. My pride is a swine. It cuts both ways, pride in what I do and pride in the fact I’m upset at have pride! I’m proud of my pride! I tell you pride SUCKS. Know wonder God hates it. It’s like a snake, totally intertwined in my being. Tying everything into it’s self. Aren’t I wonderful? No. Well aren’t I wonderful for saying I’m not wonderful? For FUCK sake! Fucking pride, damn it!!Its a blood sucking leach. Sucking out my Christ blood and replacing it with MY own! IAM! I CAN. I WILL. Nope. And not bloody lightly thanks. I understand what Paul said about the thorn in his side, to stop his pride. I wonder what that was? Interesting…….a facial tick? You know like the one in the film, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, when they meet Owen? And he honks like a pig? Or bad breath, so people nearly passed out when he spoke? What about a wind problem? Every time his head went to swell he blew off? Well, I guess the swelling pressed against his pipes! Ooooh, I do hope I don’t get one of those! Thorns I mean. But I need one! Me think this sucks☹️ but ’tis necessary for my salvation! Oh no! Well, what if it’s a nice one? I mean, I can cope with say, ummm, not a twitch. Embarrassing. Definitely NOT wind. I’d never get to heaven…….I’d have no pride, cos I wouldn’t go anywhere….., I’d hide and be windy in private! I have a feeling God doesn’t do nice thorns. I mean, that IS the object of a thorn, I suppose. But it really does suck. But in one way, it was a form of pride that I thought I was righteously able to point the finger at the people I met. And yet, Gods grace turned me around! And I didn’t feel that prick! Well, not till I thought about my own shortcomings. And that made me sorry. Maybe God can do my thorn without it being embarrassing! I do love Old God! He has so much on His plate. But He used every little spat out prideful, self righteous crumb, to help ME! And I spat the crumbs! Wow! He HAS to be God to do that. It’s mind blowing! Thanks God!

So maybe thorns are things we see in ourselves. Reminders that it is God who makes us clean and restores our being. It has to be! I’m my own bloody thorn! Maybe that IS my thorn? Or is that self hate…….ummmm…interesting. My pastor, Pete says that. The word, ‘Interesting,’ I wonder if he’d say that if I said that? I mean about me being my own thorn? It’s a thorny problem to say the least……

#God #god funny #god poetry #God personal God personal life #judgemental attitude #Pharisees #love #god mercy #God grace #miracles

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