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tundrainafrica · 3 years

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Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (12/17)

Summary: “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Recruitment Season.

Having been recruited himself, Levi was somewhat familiar with the timeline. Or at least he should have been familiar with it.

When he had suggested showing up for one of Mikasa’s tournaments, his end goal had been to at least get Hange out of her hole, the same way she had pulled him out of his own slump. With nothing else on his mind though leading up to the tournament, he found himself a little too surprised at the large crowd that showed up that day at the entrance of the school.

And Levi was familiar with the clipboards, the iPads and the way those particular people strode into the school with some sort of purpose.

The school so close to their largest city was much larger than the school he grew up in. Back in his old school, there were only two to five scouts at a time for at least ten different sports. There, by the entrance of Public School No. 104, the crowd was large and Levi was overwhelmed.

For a second he doubted whether or not he had read the entries on the events page right. That second became a few seconds and maybe even a minute as Levi recalled that there had been multiple events slated for that day. There was a huge possibility that he could have read it wrong.

He had thought ahead enough at least to bookmark the page on his phone. Whether or not he had thought ahead to bookmark it because of any lingering doubt or because it had been just a little too convenient to click the star on his phone was a question he quickly brushed off even before he could entertain it.

What was important then was he had something to assure him that he hadn’t been a total idiot taking Hange to that school.

If we can’t watch jumping, maybe they have diving or gymnastics or something. Levi thought to himself in that few second gap pulling the phone out of his pocket and scrolling through it.

Those were all consolations though. The grand prize was still the high jump event and he would hate himself if he had read the time wrong. The chances were small but the visit to the school had been crucial for many reasons.

For one, Hange had not gone out since her parents gave her a deadline to vacate her apartment. She hadn’t seemed completely alive since then, almost reminiscent of Levi’s own bout of isolation. She didn’t do much either to ask for help, to open up about her own turmoil.

It had been just the two of them clearing out years worth of clutter in the apartment for hours on end, which soon turned to days on end, save for those small few hours to get groceries. The silence which only further alluded to the lifelessness of the room, was deafening.

And in his own way, Levi found himself almost obliged to reignite something within her.

On top of that, Levi hadn’t written anything for three days. At first glance, that wasn’t an issue. Overtime though, with nothing much to do, with the decision to stay at home with Hange, he had started writing more, organizing thoughts on Petra, Zeke, Erwin, Farland, Isabel and he had written thousands of words, tens of pages but Levi was sure, the story was far from over.

There were glaring holes that he had dug through the deepest pits of his memories trying to fill. His documents were riddled with empty bullet points, blank spaces and sometimes even half complete sentences any other casual reader would have never made sense of.

There were inarguable truths though with what he had pieced together. Many of the people he had met had died, and he felt the raw pain with every single one of them in his dreams, only manageable by the reminder that they were all alive and were merely dead as characters in his dreams.

In his dreams and in his stories, he was a soldier. Erwin died and Hange had taken over as a commander. And somehow, they had ended up outside the walls, lying together in the forest and Levi could have sworn he didn’t want to leave.

But for what? Why?

For a time before that, he had been in the forest with that blond doctor too and Levi had hated his guts then too.

But under what context?

Keep writing and you’ll find out. Something nagged at him. But it was as if he had written everything. The dreams just replayed. The memories of familiar strangers only got more and more vivid. And the dreams he saw and the thoughts he reflected on only served to add detail to the sceneries and to the faces as Levi wrote them.

But he knew how they looked like in real life, there was no need to describe their faces any more than he already did. And what did scenery have to do with anything? From what he remembered, half of what he dreamt of was within walls anyway.

But there was a lead. Mikasa Ackerman. He remembered voices. He remembered raw care and concern. And he was sure there was still something to probe on those names. He tried describing her on paper with just the name as some sort of lead, but it proved futile.

Any description he attempted to shoehorn into his stories seemed like a lie. It felt almost idiotic and almost obsessive then and Levi was very careful with his words as he asked for directions then.

They gestured for Levi to follow and he found himself keeping a good distance from the crowd as they walked through the school grounds.

From his place behind them, he had heard the name ‘Ackerman’ mentioned a few times among the college scouts, whether they were talking about him or Mikasa, he didn’t probe. He didn’t want to know either. Watching the high jump event might be painful enough for him and he didn’t want to unnecessarily add any more salt to that wound.

“Levi, you sure this is the way to go?” Hange asked.

“That’s where the scouts are going,” Levi said.

Hange pulled out her phone. “I’ll look for a school map.”

Levi shrugged. “The school is bigger than I expected. Let’s cover some ground while you search.” He kept his eyes ahead, keeping the crowd at least in his peripherals as he scanned his surroundings.

As they walked through the main path of the school, the crowd gradually dispersed. Then for Levi who had been so religiously following the crowds since almost a minute ago, it became a game of which crowd was biggest.

Because everyone should be here for Mikasa Ackerman right? Levi thought to himself. He couldn’t wait for Hange to navigate. He pressed on, following the biggest crowd before they turned the corner and disappeared completely.

The crowd may have been for Mikasa, or it could have been for any other athlete or any other sport. He never did find out.

“Levi, I think we should turn around here… The high jump event should be---” Hange started.

“It’s Connie Springer! Connie Springer’s batting next!”

From his view along the main road, partially obscured by tall trees and bushes dotting the landscape, Levi hadn’t gotten a good view at first. And if it hadn’t been for the familiar name, maybe Levi never would have sped up, or gone as fast at least as his limp and his crutches would take him.

He turned the corner, the largest crowd forgotten. He made good distance, even on the rocky landscape that made up the smaller path.

“Levi, be careful. You might trip.” Hange asked. “Besides, where are we going? The high jump event i...”

Hange’s protests eventually faded into something unintelligible from behind him. If he had actually tried to listen, maybe he would have heard whatever else she was saying. It was as if his mind knew, anything she said was futile. He was hell bent on making that detour and he was 100% that detour which was only a few feet away, would give him enough of a satisfying answer.

We can check the venue after. Just give me this few minutes. Levi had been in enough high jump tournaments to know they lasted a fair amount of time anyway.

The smaller path opened up to a field. There were athletes on the field clad in red, one on the field clad in green. Levi had enough stock knowledge on Major League Baseball to know exactly what was happening.

The innings were all on the scoreboard, large enough for Levi to see from his angle. Visitors were leading by three points. The home team had one more out left before the game would be declared over. And out on each base was one player clad in green.

It was a decisive possession for green. Levi surmised even if it hadn’t been Connie Springer who had caught his attention then, maybe he still really would have stopped to watch.

A lot of the crowd looked like they were thinking the same thing. Even with the game almost over, people were still approaching the field.

Connie Springer…

Levi heard the whispers among the scouts. Good runner. Mediocre Batter. And maybe he had felt a little offended for Connie when someone had joked that they should just bid the regionals and nationals goodbye.

Connie was better than that. Levi was sure.

And just like Levi had thought, Connie seemed unfazed. From his position at the side of the field, Connie approached the home plate at a steady yet rapid pace, bat in hand.

The whispers around him only started to get louder as Connie got into a position to bat.

Connie was a mediocre batter and a good runner at the same time. And Connie's hand position as he held the bat was a remnant of just that. Connie held one hand behind the mid section of the bat and he gripped it as if he weren’t going to let go any time soon.

He’s gonna bunt. Levi didn’t need the whispers for that commentary. Just as expected, that was a safe play for someone deemed a ‘shitty batter’ by the cruel audience.

Connie gripped the bat and positioned it. The pitch came a second later. And in that small span of a few seconds, Levi’s expectations were subverted, and as proven by the gasps around him, it looked like the audience’s expectations were subverted as well.

Connie had taken a risk. And in the next few seconds, everyone would find out if it were a good risk. He had swung the bat all the way through, there was a clank of the ball and the ball flew. Looking at the blue and white of the sky, Levi had to squint to see it.

It was a bunt fake. Levi soon realized. But he quickly dropped that thought as he followed Connie along all the bases. He was a great runner and Levi struggled to follow him through the bases. He felt his heart thumping as he followed Connie’s path.

He could hear screams from the audience to run. And Connie was screaming much louder as he ran even after having reached the second base.

Levi was sure he could have stopped there but Connie continued to run, screaming to the others to run as well. And by the third base, Connie could have stopped, and they could have secured a tie. The coach by the third base, held his hands up high, as if to tell Connie to take those three points.

It’s a tie game, no need to. And as Levi soon found out, any efforts to move in the next few seconds would be risky. Levi followed the ball which was already making the rounds of the bases. And when he looked back to third base, he found it empty. Connie was still running.

There were angry screams and Levi wouldn’t be surprised if it was from the coach. Levi didn’t bother to look anywhere else though to check. The next few milliseconds, he dedicated to Connie who was still dashing towards the home base.

Levi’s breath caught that split second when the catcher bent over to grab the ball.

But he still has to tag Connie. The catcher made the mistake of approaching Connie on the lane connecting the bases.

Or was it a mistake? He was blocking Connie’s path. And if Connie did anything like stray away from the path it would be an out.

He kept moving, As if fortune did favor the brave, everything started working for him at once. The catcher had bent over to dash faster. Connie was only getting faster, gaining momentum with every stride.

The split second Connie launched himself in the air and over the catcher, Levi could have sworn time stopped. That pause could have lasted an eternity. Yet everything after that could have happened on fast forward. Connie fell onto the home plate and skidded violently on the field and before Levi could take a good look, Connie was surrounded.

That scene on the field reminded Levi of his own accident months ago.

Is he okay? Levi stayed longer than he should have. He knew if he had left then and there, he probably wouldn’t be able to rest without the guarantee that the young baseball player out there wouldn’t suffer the same fate Levi had.

“Levi… Did you see that?” It sounded like Hange was struggling to breathe.

But in a good way. A good way he had missed so much, he found himself distracted enough to look away from the congregation on the home base and back at Hange.”It looked like he was flying huh?” Levi asked, taking a long good look at Hange as he said those words.

Her face was flushed. The glimmer in her eyes was still there, albeit weaker. Her eyes completely concentrated on the scene in front of her, as if in a trance. And Levi was sure she was imagining, seeing herself in that same spot only a second ago.

Was that how it felt Hange? Every single time you saw someone jump?

Levi was convinced he was right. The glimmer in Hange's eyes was weaker for sure. At first, Levi had thought it to be a remnant of the events of weeks ago, with her thesis struggles, with her parent’s admonishing remarks.

Levi ended up concluding though, that it wasn’t weaker. It was just glowing differently.

There was no desire in her eyes, no childish jealousy at lost dreams she couldn’t achieve. It was as if Hange had gained the power to so purely and innocently, so easily place herself in another's shoes, when she just thinks through it.

And absence worked to make Levi notice it more but in that new glow, that new glimmer in her eyes, Levi noticed then, there was no subtle hint of guilt at having indulged in such a trivial and useless passion her whole life.

Yet every single time he had snuck glances at Hange watching jumps before that, there was guilt in her eyes. As if she was supposed to be doing something more important: studying, working, succeeding, meeting expectations.

Is that how liberation feels? Levi asked himself then. He wanted to ask her that same thing then but he found another question, a follow up question which popped so quickly into his mind even before he had completely articulated the first one. Does she know yet that she’s free?

Maybe she didn’t. Because it had just come so naturally for someone like her.

“I wrote her like that because that’s how Hange Zoe really is.”

“Then I’ll work harder to be like her.”

“You don’t have to. The squad leader and the commander are already in you, you just have to uncover for yourself those parts.”

And she had figured it out for herself in the easiest of states, in a trance borne of passion, ecstasy, excitement and maybe euphoria.

An authentic, unrehearsed and organic smile, from Hange of all people, had left Levi with too many emotions to wrangle with: nostalgia, relief, excitement and everything in between. Too many for him to figure out for itself. Yet, it manifested in that moment, as Levi stood frozen next to her, staring at her for god knows how long. As if that Hange Zoe was something he had lost so long ago, maybe even centuries or even millennia ago. And he could have stood there forever as long she remained in that state of pure organic euphoria.

Hange’s lips widened, then curled up into a smile. “He’s okay!” She screamed, much louder than what could have been appropriate for that situation, for someone who barely even knew the guy on the field.

Levi didn’t mind though. In another story, maybe in another life, Connie was a member of their legion after all.

Hange’s outburst was a done deal and there was nothing much they could do about the eyes focused on them or the whispers among the crowd. Levi took advantage of that sunk cost, he approached Connie who was sitting alone on his bench, taking a quick drink of water.

“You did great out there.” It came out as barely a whisper and as Levi soon realized, he was still too far for Connie to have heard it. And the latter didn’t.

That whisper had completely and so easily been overshadowed by calls from his own teammates to hurry up and pack his things. Connie’s team was going to regionals.

And maybe after that, nationals. It would have been nice to send some sort of congratulations then. Reality took over and brought with it reasonable arguments, all against some sort of odd and almost stalkery approach towards Connie.

Their team would be celebrating that night. Connie was far gone and had disappeared among the crowd of red baseball uniforms. It would be an odd and completely unjustifiable effort to chase Connie down then.

“Congratulations,” Levi whispered to himself.

“Congratulations to...? The home team?” Hange asked, stepping up beside him.

“Yeah, I would have wanted to talk to them. Congratulate them myself.”

“I’m sure they heard you,” Hange said.

The murmurs among the crowd, the praises, the cries and the dissemination of rumors were ubiquitous and they were still far from dead, even as the crowds started to disperse. Behind it all, Levi heard the rustle of trees and the whistling of the winds.

And maybe the wind could carry messages for him. Just in case, Levi did whisper other words of greeting, much softer than what Hange would have heard beside him. They were generic words of congratulations and well wishes but Levi swore they were heartfelt.

And he ended it with one last personalized message. I hope we could meet again and maybe have a little more time to talk.

Hange’s voice broke through his little correspondence. “Hey Levi, we still have an hour or so before the high jump event. What about if we try other events on the way?”

Levi shrugged. “Why not? We’re here already.” The trip had proven to be filled with surprises already.

*******

"Levi, you shouldn't have gone to the toilet. You missed some amazing jumps. There's this girl…. Sasha Braus I think…"

“Sasha Braus?” Levi made sure to say her name slowly, to at least imply some unfamiliarity.

But he was all too familiar with that name already. In fact, that hadn't been a toilet break, Levi had gone to the cafeteria only a building away and bought some plastic wrapped melon bread. Just in case there would be an opportunity to talk.

"How many jumps did I miss?" Levi asked.

"Five or six but we missed the start of the competition already so I think we missed more than that. They said this was the last round… But Sasha's already winning by a lot."

"Just as expected."

"So you know Sasha?"

"I follow athletes too you know."

"But diving?"

"Maybe." Levi kept his reply short, unwilling to keep that joke of a charade any longer.

Hange had a knowing look on her face as if she never did believe him.

Levi returned Hange with a playful look of his own as if to say:

But how else would I know her name?

Hange probably suspected the recognition to have been the result of a series of deductions. But Levi wasn't that smart.

After that encounter with Connie, the names and faces just came to him much faster than ever. Even among the five athletes lined up in front of the pull, Levi could spot her from meters away, last in line

He checked the watch on his phone, thirty minutes until the high jump event. They had enough time to kill.

In the few minutes leading up to Sasha's final dive, Levi made sure to search her name.

Top diver. Top seed for college scouts. High level of diving technique.

Diving wasn't a particularly popular sport where they lived but it was enough to make waves at least on the internet.

When Levi started to watch the women dive into the water, performing tucks, pikes and twists along the way, he did wonder why it never was popular.

And with the way, Hange was looking at them, he suspected she thought the same thing.

"Let's go Sasha!" Hange's voice rang out in the indoor pool area.

Do we know her? Levi asked. Realistically, do we know her? He amended that soon after. He knew her. But was he supposed to know her. Was Hange supposed to know her?

He wasn't too self conscious either. She wasn't the only one who was cheering after all. He could have sworn the blonde in front of them was cheering just as hard.

"Was I too loud?" Hange whispered, a second later. "I think I got too excited."

"No, that's very much a Hänge Zoe move," Levi said.

That small shadow of self consciousness in Hange's voice completely dissipated and Levi was relieved to see that gentle yet excited smile that followed.

And it could have been a hint or an illusion, but as Levi looked back at the brunette who approached the edge of the diving board, he could have sworn she had given them a flicker of a gaze as she positioned herself on the edge.

She may have heard Hange's cheers. Levi wondered though, if she had heard any more of their cheers or if she had recognized them.

Levi leaned towards a 'no.' though having been disappointed a little too many times. And he considered it a done deal as she executed a difficult twist, a pike then dove into the water head first.

"The high jump is starting in ten minutes. We should go," Hänge said, glancing at her watch.

The melon bread in the inner pocket of Levi's jacket protested. He had bought it for her after all.

He had other options at least. "Psst…" Levi called the attention of the blonde in front of him.

She didn't look back.

"Historia," Levi said. He decided for himself then that it was worth the risk.

The blonde looked back at them, her eyes wide open in confusion. "I'm sorry… I don't think I recognize you…" It was just like her to still be polite to a couple of potentially creepy strangers.

"No need to recognize me," Levi said. He pressed the melon pan, into the hand that Historia had held out for a hand shake. "Get this to Sasha for us. Tell her it's from her fans."

With that, the two stepped down from their place in the second row bleachers and quickly and silently slipped out through the entrance.

*******

“Maybe we have the time for one more detour,” Levi said.

“We’re still on the way to the high jump venue. And it’s not like we’re gonna miss everything if we’re ten minutes late,” Hange added.

As they stood at the entrance of the gym along the main road, they were distracted for different reasons. Levi was distracted because he had heard that one name among the cheers loud enough to hear even beyond closed doors. Hange though looked like she had managed to at least get a glimpse of what was going on inside through the transparent glass of the door.

“Should we… go in?” Levi asked.

“You wanna? There’s only a few seconds left.”

“Why not?”

Even with both of them in a silent agreement, they still hesitated. The door opened towards the inside and from what Levi could see with a slight tiptoe, even the door was barricaded. As Levi took a closer look at Hange, he realized that that could have been one of the reasons she was hesitant to go in.

“I saw this pretty cool dunk through this window. I wish you could have seen it.”

“I’ve seen a lot of cool things today already.”

“Yeah, but a few more cool things wouldn’t hurt.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just look at them on Youtube after. You got a name?”

“I’m checking his jersey… The name is too far… Can’t see it from this shitty view. It starts with a K… And it looks like a really long name.”

“Kirstein?”

“Can’t tell…But that doesn’t sound like a long name.”

The buzzer rang loud enough that even Levi found himself jumping at the sound. Cheers followed which Levi had to admit, had been a worse ordeal for his ears than the buzzer of a while ago.

But maybe the wait will be worth it. Levi told himself and he willed himself to be patient. “Let’s wait by the side of the door. People are gonna be going out soon.”

“I wish we could have been earlier. I would have wanted to see more dunks.” Hange whined. “You know I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone dunk in real life until now.”

“Well, maybe one day I’ll take you to watch a basketball game live,” Levi said as he leaned on the wall to the side of the gym.

“The tickets are expensive.”

“Aren’t your parent’s filthy rich?”

“Well, they thought games were a waste of time…”

“After we graduate, then we get jobs, maybe we can watch together.”

“That would be nice.” Hange leaned on the wall right next to him. Leaning her head back, she looked to Levi and gave him a playful smile. “Then after that, we can go watch some Major League Baseball and some diving tournaments too.”

It was only then Levi realized he had leaned his head back in the same manner. The way she had mimicked it had been comforting and he found himself following suit. “Maybe we can watch a gymnastics competition or a skating competition?”

“And maybe when we earn more money… Let’s watch the olympics together.”

Levi smiled. “That’s the dream.” He looked at the sky above him, avoiding Hange’s gaze. With the price of the tickets and the distance of the venues though, Levi was aware that it was a distant dream.

But something inside him nagged.

Two months ago, actually making the olympics wouldn’t have been such a distant dream. His coach had talked about the Olympics many times before already, talking about scouts, about post graduation training with the national team. He wondered how pathetic he was at that moment, shifting from dreaming to make the Olympics to dreaming of just watching. It was a short episode of melancholy and maybe if Levi had indulged it, it would have lasted longer.

It was something he willed himself not to show Hange though and instead, he stared up at the sky, willing himself instead to silently admire the view. From his peripherals, he was relieved to see Hange had done similarly.

Noon had shifted to afternoon so subtly. Looking straight up at the light blue, didn’t hurt so much anymore and he suspected it was late afternoon already. He knew they should be leaving soon if they wanted to catch Mikasa’s tournament.

The melancholy weighed on him. As if Hange understood though, she was silent and she didn’t pressure him to move just yet. Levi slid back down on the ground, letting the crutches fall in front of him.

“You okay?” Hange asked, sliding down to a sitting position next to him.

No, I’m not. Levi would have answered. When he looked at Hange though, he saw understanding, as if she knew what would have only been the correct answer to that. But you aren’t okay either. Levi had to note, so it would have only served to stoke the fires of her own vulnerability to admit his own. So he went for a kind in-between.

“I know we’re both not okay. We just have to ride through this until shit gets better,” Levi said, giving Hange the best authentic smile he could muster which felt like more of a lopsided grin in the end.

Hange took a deep breath. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” She returned that smile with her own and Levi was certain her own smile had been a better rendition of what he had.

“Jean! Hey! Come back here.”

Levi had done a pretty good job of tuning out the crowds that had been exiting the gym since a while ago. When he looked back to the entrance to see Jean and an unrecognizable teammate just outside, he was almost surprised to see their surroundings almost completely empty, especially when compared to a while ago.

“You can’t just leave. Coach will kill us.”

“I said, I’ll follow. It’s just a celebratory dinner. It’s not like we’ll lose our ticket to regionals if I don’t go.”

“But you scored the winning dunk.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jean asked. “Besides I am going. I’ll just be late.”

The player next to Jean cleared his throat. “Is this about her?”

“Yes. I wanna watch her jump. Is that so bad?”

“Mikasa’s gonna have other tournaments you know.”

“But we’re going to be busy with regionals. Who knows how many times I’ll be able to catch her tournaments before graduation.”

There was an awkward silence between them and Levi was almost tempted to use that moment to approach Jean. Even with some support from Hange though, it had taken Levi more than enough time to push himself to a standing position.

“God you’re such a simp Jean.”

“Cover for me Caleb.”

Caleb walked back into the gym and Jean started to jog, making his way for the main path. Levi was sure with his current state he wouldn’t be able to catch up. It was as if Hange though had read his mind.

“Excuse me!”

Levi followed at a much slower pace, only able to catch up because the two had slowed to a stop in the middle of the main path.

“Mikasa Ackerman? Yes! She’s my classmate.”

Levi noted the light blush on Jean’s face as he spoke. “We wanna watch the tournament too,” Levi added, slowing to a stop beside Hange. “Could we walk there together? This is our first time here so we might get lost.” A partial lie. It wasn’t their first time but they had looked at the map on their phone enough times to have sworn on their life that the path they were taking was correct.

Jean had looked surprised at first, but his dumb expression had quickly shifted to something much friendlier. “I’d be happy to take you two there.” He held out his hand. “Jean Kirstein.”

Hange had been the first to take his hand in a friendly gesture. “Hange Zoe.”

The pleasantries were quickly forgotten and their conversation had shifted to other things. Along the way, Levi had stopped listening as it shifted to conversations on air time and agility exercises.

Just like Hange to want to talk about that. Levi thought. That was the thesis she had wanted to do after all.

Levi allowed himself to trail behind a bit, letting the two grab a bit more distance.

That gave him a good view of the two, side by side. And they have been side by side before, Levi recalled that much. They had discussed strategies, paperwork, war conditions many times before.

Levi took advantage of that distance between them. To further indulge that little picture of a memory, Levi whispered two names under his breath. Commander Hange Zoe and Commanding Officer Jean Kirstein.

That at least added some realism to the view. And Levi was sure he’d remember enough to write pages worth when he got home.

*******

“Looks like we haven’t missed a lot,” Hange said.

“You missed the first few heights but those were too easy. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mikasa sat it out.” Levi commented. He looked to Jean who was gesturing for them to follow as he climbed up the bleachers.

And he kept his focus on Jean the whole way up. The high jump event was his domain and although he had hoped to keep a low profile during the event, a part of him knew that it would be almost impossible. Although his face could be almost forgettable and maybe unnoticeable in the crowds, the crutches only made people stare. And when people stare, they have a tendency to look at faces. And when they look at faces they recognize, sometimes they talk.

Levi had learned that lesson so many times before already. At least though, with every lesson learned, he had gotten better at brushing off the whispers. On top of the quick introductions, the familiar faces on the bleachers had been a very helpful distraction as well, one unbothered and the other, the complete opposite, a little too curious about everything.

Eren and Armin.

“You’re late Jean. Weren’t you the one who so excitedly told Mikasa you’d show up to cheer her on?” Eren asked.

“Hey, I’m here right now. Besides, I knew you and Armin were going to show up anyway. You always do.” Jean said, raising his hands defensively. He looked back at the field as if searching for her among the athletes. “So when is she jumping?”

“She got eliminated.”

Jean buried his face in his hands. “You’re kidding.”

“Eren, she sat out the easier heights right?” Levi had to note that at first glance, it did look like Mikasa wasn’t there. He suspected that the bench where Mikasa was sitting was just a little obscured from their view on the bleachers. He had done similarly too often for it to be anything but routine.

“Oh, you’re familiar with how high jump events work. Better than horseface here,” Eren gave the still recovering Jean a side glance before looking back at Levi. Eren’s unbothered face was far from menacing.

With his own store on his side and his own thoughts, Levi found himself still a little too careful. “I’m a little familiar...” Levi said, letting his voice trail off as he looked back out at the field.

“Excuse me.” Someone spoke up from behind him.

Levi was quick to look back. Compared to Hange who was already so engrossed on the happenings on the field just below, Levi was far from entertained. The heights were still much lower than what he would have considered entertaining.

It was Armin who had called out to him. “Are you Levi Ackerman?” He asked. The blonde seemed so unsure of himself that Levi had half the mind to deny it there just to play with him for a while. Didn’t Jean introduce us already?

“Why do you ask?”

Armin put a hand at the back of his head and flashed a sheepish grin. “Well, ever since Mikasa got into high jumping, I started to get a little more familiar with the high jumping scene. Also Eren, didn’t your brother talk about him?”

Zeke Jaeger.

“He mentioned that Levi Ackerman was injured, probably sidelined for life…” Eren trailed off, he looked pointedly at Levi’s casted knee. “Is that it?”

“So you are Levi Ackerman…” Armin said, a little more certainty in his tone.

“Wait, who’s this Levi Ackerman? Are you related to Mikasa?”

Levi shrugged. He didn’t know the best way to answer it either. Do I say distant relatives? He opted for a safe yet vague. “Maybe.”

The three boys didn’t ask anymore. The crowds exploded into cheers, and in their own little corner, the five of them fell silent as Mikasa made her way to the center and approached the starting line of the runway.

Levi quickly estimated the bar to be at 1.8 meters, too high for most high school students. So high that only two had cleared the height. And if Mikasa cleared it, that meant three people would be moving on to the 1.9 meter bar.

Or when Mikasa clears it. Levi corrected himself a second later as he watched Mikasa run to the take off box.

The crowd cheered as she landed. It had done little though to pull Levi back to reality. The cheers were merely fading background music as Levi replayed that jump in his mind. Everything from the run to the take off to the landing, everything from the smallest twist mid air had been seamless and Levi only noticed a second later his mouth had been wide open.

Mikasa wasn’t the tallest among the jumpers either, as if she relied as well on her own flexibility to get her through the bar.

“Levi, that’s how you used to jump,” Hange said. That had been enough at least to pull Levi out of his trance. “Now do you get how it felt to see you jump?”

Levi didn’t answer instantly. His first instinct had been to look back at the Youtube videos and the Instagram videos of himself Hange had shared to him a while back. He couldn’t have jumped like MIkasa. Back when he had watched his own videos, he never felt the goosebumps, or his hair stand up, or that sudden need to drop his jaw and leave his mouth wide open for a good few seconds.

But his view of Mikasa had been organic, it had been an experience, unmarred by camera angles, commentaries and video edits. Real life didn’t have video edits, and with his own first hand experience, he had the freedom and the convenience to continue to follow Mikasa, long after her jump was over.

He ignored the next two who had failed at the 1.9 meter height, completely eliminated. He had only surmised their own fate from the less than enthusiastic cheers from the crowd that followed each attempt. He continued to follow Mikasa, all the way until her second jump, focusing on the way her body curved so easily above the bar, the way her body twisted into a more comfortable angle mid flight.

As if she’s been flying her whole life.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We have a champion! Mikasa Ackerman!” The announcer chimed. But they weren’t cleaning up yet.

“There’s one more event: the men’s event, then after that the awarding,” Armin explained.

Levi shifted his attention once again to Mikasa who was making her way away from the center.

Towards the audience. Towards the front row. Levi followed Mikasa s gaze, to see a familiar back profile at the front row. The man only stood up from his seat, making the situation all the clearer for Levi.

“Coach Greg is here?” Of course, he’d be here. He’s recruiting.

He didn’t look like he was successful at recruiting though. From his spot towards the middle of the bleachers, Levi could see the way Mikasa shook her head, the way she had given the most apologetic smile and the way she walked back to the bench where her other teammates were, looking completely unbothered by that rejection.

He’s recruiting Mikasa? Levi thought.

In reply, Coach Greg looked back at the bleachers. He caught Levi’s gaze almost instantly as if he had known Levi would have been there the whole time. Levi had trained with him enough to know what he wanted just by the expression on his face.

“Levi, where are you going? The men’s jump event is about to start.”

It had been months since he trained with him, but years of old habits were still hard to break. Before Levi even noticed it himself, he had scrambled onto his feet and maneuvered through the crowd in the bleachers.

*******

“I saw you enter the venue mid match. Honestly happy to see you watching tournaments again and I’m sure a lot of the fans are happy to see you too.”

If by happy, you mean gossiping. “Jumping is hard to completely give up,” Levi replied.

The two had settled on a bench, only a few meters away from the emptiest bleachers. The screams and cheers were still audible and sometimes, comprehensible. But there was still enough peace and quiet to manage a fair conversation.

“How’s your knee?”

“I’m sure you’ve talked to Erwin about it already.”

Greg grinned sheepishly at it. He dropped his shoulders with a sigh. “I was hoping he would have given you a better prognosis. He told me you were gone from jumping for good… I just thought…”

“My last season is over. You’re already preparing for regionals and I can still barely walk,” Levi said as he gave a pointed look at the crutches he leaned on the side of the bench.

“With physical therapy…”

“I can barely walk right now because of physical therapy. We were going too fast.”

“So anything after college might be impossible huh?”

“I’m taking this one step at a time. It was a painful experience. And with the extent of it, Erwin had told me multiple times even post surgery, it might never return to pre injury state. With the competitiveness of the high jumping scene… my height… I feel like these were all just signs to just move on from it all.”

Greg dropped his shoulders and shook his head. “You were something else though. I didn’t think someone of your height could have dominated the high jump. It was like your body knew the exact moments to get you through the bar every time. As if it was completely used to being mid air.”

“Maybe my body is just used to flying,” Levi said. “Maybe I was born and built for these types of sports. But I'm sure you're aware, no matter how inclined someone is to sports, careers don’t last forever. We all have expiry dates. And mine was just a lot earlier than others.”

“But you could have made the Olympics with your numbers.”

“But the accident happened and I don’t think I’ll ever achieve those numbers again,” Levi said matter-of-factly, so realistically it hurt even when Levi was sure he had long gotten over it.

“So, what are you focusing on now?” Greg asked, an attempt at digression.

“Studies, submitting my thesis, passing my last few classes…”

“Maybe when studies die down a bit, you can visit every now and then. After winter break is over, maybe you could even help get the new recruits up to speed.”

Levi raised one eyebrow at Greg. “You have one in mind?” Mikasa Ackerman?

“Mikasa Ackerman.” As if Greg had read his mind, he had repeated those same exact words with the exact same tone Levi had heard it in his head. “Are you two related?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“With the way you’re saying that, I'm guessing not close enough to talk to her.”

“Talk to her about what?” Levi asked.

“About considering Paradis University. She has that type of talent that only comes once every five years.”

“But if she’s committed to another university…”

“She’s not. In fact, she told me herself, she might not even go to university.”

“Why not?”

“She told me there was someone she didn’t wanna leave behind. You think you might know something about that?”

An all too familiar turn of events. Levi’s answer to his coach’s question had been a resounding yes. But he wasn’t telling him about that yet. ‘I’ll try to talk to her. Then I’ll see what I can do.”

The conversation ended soon after that with a quick promise to keep in touch. His coach hurriedly got back to the tournament and Levi found himself alone on the bench once again.

His knees ached, his arms were stiff from all the walking. And he decided for himself that a men’s jump event would not be worth the struggle of hobbling back to the bleachers.

*******

“There you are!”

Levi only had a few minutes of peace and quiet before it was interrupted by the familiar brunette who settled next to him on the bench. It had interrupted whatever trance he had gotten himself into. Either way, it was still a welcome sight. “You’re not watching?”

“I thought you went to the toilet or something but when you didn’t come back… I kinda realized you might have left because you didn’t wanna watch so I got worried. You wanna go back home?”

“I’m tired. So honestly, yes.” Levi shrugged his shoulders and did some test stretches. His body was aching from having maneuvered in crutches the whole afternoon. He could have sworn, he had reached well more than a thousand steps just walking the university, enough to expect an admonishing stare from either Erwin or his physical therapist.

“Well, we should be going back. We have to do some last minute packing since tomorrow is our last day.”

“Wait, before we leave. I was hoping to get some lead on Mikasa. I wanted to talk to her. Maybe after final exams or something.”

Hange gave him a cheeky grin. She held out her phone in an exaggerated manner. “That’s done already.”

“You got their contact details?”

“I had a pretty pleasant conversation with Armin, Jean and Eren, enough at least to get them to wanna keep in touch.”

“Keep in touch about what?”

“Thesis maybe? Future career prospects?”

“You’re meeting with a bunch of high school students?”

“Armin applied to Paradis University so there’s a lot to talk about and he said he could help out with my thesis. Besides, weren’t you the one who said you wanted to talk to Mikasa?”

“I’m doing my coach a favor.” Levi said, emphasizing those last words a little too much, he started to feel a little ridiculous a second later.

Hange raised one eyebrow in disbelief, only making Levi further regret attempting such a ridiculous lie. A smile played at Hange’s lips. “You know, I’m glad to see you’re reconnecting with your team again.”

Levi returned that smile with his own. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re reconnecting with your thesis again.”

*******

“I talked to the dorm. Scholars can get a good bed space for a cheap price, or maybe even free. You just have to sort out the paperwork, get some paperwork signed by your professor then the scholarship office. After that, we wait for approval. So, in the meantime, you could stay in a motel or something.``

“That’s the plan,” Hange said, her tone a mixture of despondence and exhaustion. Not too surprisingly, she was lugging boxes, lining them towards the entrance of the room as they spoke. “My parents are gonna pick up a lot of these boxes, probably put them in storage back home. And this…” Hange drops a purple suitcase in front of him. “Is all I’m bringing.”

“You’re serious about this huh?”

“Were you doubting it?”

Levi sat and stared at the luggage, his expression unchanging. “This just seems like a huge change.”

“This happens with everyone else anyway. I’m a senior in college. I’ll find a job, take out a loan then rent some cheap studio apartment just outside the city.”

“Studio apartments aren’t cheap, even if they are outside the city. Would you be able to afford that with the entry level income of one person?” Somehow, a part of Levi was still hoping Hange would make amends with her parents. Despite her having proven multiple times she was sure with her decision. She seemed happier then, more confident, more free. But at what cost?

“Then I’ll get a roommate,” Hange said.

“That’s a reasonable plan.” Levi said. “Well first things first. Fix those dorm papers, finish your thesis.”

“Thanks for the help Levi. Really, it means a lot.” From the firm determination of a while ago, Hange’s gaze softened to something else, something Levi had sworn he had only seen long ago, in another lifetime.

“You’ve done a lot for me too,” Levi said.

“You won’t be much help now since I’ll just be lugging boxes so feel free to just write or something until we’re ready to leave. Or you know, you could go ahead to your dorm. I’ll just contact you if I need to.”

“No, I’d rather stay.” Levi looked back at his laptop and opened his document. He had written a few words the night before as soon as they had arrived home.

Armin Arlert. Jean Kirstein. Eren Jaeger. Mikasa Ackerman. Connie Springer. Sasha Braus. Historia Reiss. The names had worked magic on the draft. With the names where they needed them to be, the story became more vivid than he had expected. He lost count of the amount of words he had written the night before, but he was sure he had added at least five pages.

And his head throbbed at that moment as he scanned through the file, reminding him of how much sleep he had sacrificed to get it written. At the least, he had managed to understand what had gotten them to the point in the woods, he understood why it had been he and Hange of all people who stuck together.

They cared about the younger soldiers for sure. But they had been the only two veterans remaining.

And what did you ask me back then? Levi asked silently as he watched Hange move the boxes one by one, lining them along walls from one corner all the way until the entrance.

Hange looked as if she were in a trance. But if their eyes had met at that moment as he thought of the question, would she have read his face, would she have known what he was asking then? Probably not. But Hange was perceptive and she had made some good guesses on his thoughts a few times already.

Maybe we should just live here together? Right, Levi? Levi wrote those words, somewhere at the bottom of the page, under descriptions of trees, stars and a glowing campfire. He wrote under it descriptions of the pain of fresh stitches, half opened wounds and the beginnings of a fever.

“You know, Hange. There was a war. This anti military faction took over, and we ran away to the woods and ----”

“Don’t tell me!” Hange interrupted. She dropped one box on to the wall, much harder than usual. “I haven’t reached that part. I wanna enjoy your story.”

“Sorry.”

Hange approached him and sat next to him on the wall by the window. Her voice was much softer as she spoke up again. “No need to apologize. I just wanna be in the best mood when I read it. Maybe I’ll catch up after final exams before winter break,” Hange said. “Besides last time I checked all you had were unfinished sentences and bullet points.”

“It’ll be finished way before then.” Even as he spoke, he was typing and Levi found himself marveling at his own ability to keep two conversations at once.

“Really? Don’t you have studies to deal with?”

“I know how it’s gonna end already.”

Hange gave a hum of approval. “Then I’ll hold your word to it. I look forward to reading it then.”

If we keep running and hiding, what will that get us… I know you’re not able to stay out of the action.

Levi had ended up writing those last few lines to the disturbed rhythm of the thumps as boxes were dropped one on top of the other.

Yeah. That’s right. I can’t. He capped off that final paragraph with Hange’s one final response. Even fully wide awake with the afternoon sun illuminating the well ventilated condominium, even with the sound of the traffic down below only made louder by the windows left open, Levi still saw her, so vividly as if she were a dream. He memorized her face then, everything from the way her brow knitted, her forehead puckered. The way her glossy eyes showed nothing but a faded glimmer.

Yet it was a glimmer and in that, Levi saw desire. A desire for something else.

And then what happened? It couldn’t have ended there. He had filled in many of the gaps himself already. He had already found the missing pieces and pushed them into place. The story had ended so anticlimactically though and Levi found himself scraping the recesses of his mind for anything he may have missed, a futile attempt.

And maybe it was futile because Hange had interrupted him a second later. She had his two plump overnight bags slung over her one shoulder. She turned her chin slightly towards the entrance. “Let’s go.”

Levi pulled himself up from the window sill. “Give me one of my bags. You shouldn’t be carrying all that.”

“You shouldn’t be carrying all this,” Hange argued, looking pointedly at his leg. “Let’s go.” She went ahead, not looking back. Along the way, she had stopped, gesturing for Levi to make the distance towards the door and out into the hallway.

Levi looked back at her to see she was still standing at the entrance leaning on the door frame, leaving one hand on the open door swung inward. She made no movement, no explicit intention to leave just yet. He felt no need to hurry her either. Moving out was no easy task after all.

“I know you don’t like messes Levi ” Hange spoke up, her voice once again the lifeless drawl that never failed to hurt Levi even a bit.

“Really?” It was obvious, Levi had acknowledged that he had hated it. But he never remembered explicitly telling Hange about it. He was lodging in her place for free after all.

“You wrinkle your nose every time I leave something lying around. And you don’t think I noticed the way things magically cleaned themselves while I was away?”

“If you don’t want to, I won’t. I’m sorry about that.”

“No, I appreciate it. I think you did a lot of good for my space. Honestly, I’m more sorry that I couldn’t provide you anything cleaner…” Hange trailed off. It seemed like she was ready to say more. She looked back at him and took a deep breath, opened her mouth but stopped herself midway. ”And for a while I was a bit self conscious about it but I think I get it now.”

“Get what?

“I get now why I like messes and clutter. And I guess I just wanna point it out now, so maybe you’d understand?” Hange moved away from the doorway and out into the hallway. “Look, it’s clean.”

It was easy for Levi to put the scene of her condominium from a few months ago and the scene in front of him side by side in his mind. There were too many things he could have pointed out at once though. The room in front of him then, was much larger and more spacious than Levi could have ever imagined, especially with the boxes all lined up towards the wall. It was immaculate, any other day he could have used the picture of the room as a blank slate, something to calm him in between stressful situations.

But side by side with the room from weeks ago, hell back to the room months ago before he had started to stain it with his own brand of cleanliness, Levi wasn’t thinking of words like clean or immaculate.

It feels lifeless. But he wasn’t telling her that. Not just yet, when the fastidious side of him was still trying to process such an opinion borne out of his cleanliness-loving mind.

It was as if Hange was giving him no time to process though. “Do you get it though? Why I like my rooms with a little clutter?”

Levi gave up on processing, instead submitting to whatever tirade was coming out of Hange then.

And she was getting a little more emotional and a little more attached as she spoke. Because when everything's scattered everywhere, I always feel like I’ll have to fix it soon right? And when I have to fix it, I’m reminded that I’ll be coming back. But now…”

Levi jumped at the crack in her voice. He went forward and closed it, and it had felt like ripping off a band-aid. “Let’s go Hange.”

“I don’t have anything to return to now. It’s gonna be dorm and motel hopping until I get a job and can afford to find a new place,” Hange continued.

The two walked towards the elevators. Hange had kept her strides so slow and steady it had been a little too easy for Levi to catch up. With that, he had a little more time and space to reflect, come up with something more comforting than ripping of a band aid.

That part was easy at least. “You don’t have to have anywhere to return to.” Levi spoke up. “I think, what’s important is that people have someone to return to...”

“‘Someones’ like that are hard to find.” Hange looked at him. Then, Levi had a good view of her, her eyes glistened with what looked like unshed tears, the lines under eyes only told of pent up exhaustion, an all too familiar expression, almost a reflection of Hange that night in the woods.

It had been too easy to assume he had heard those same words as she looked at him expectantly then.

Maybe we should just live here together? Right, Levi?

But that wasn’t the time for a yes nor was it a time to echo the invitation or the words she had mentioned right there in the forest. It wasn’t a time either to tell Hange what had happened in the woods many a lifetime before.

But Levi still spoke up, his own reply tweaked for that situation alone. If he had been any more aware, any more hesitant, he would have pulled back, discouraged already by the many other arguments his mind was able to conjure.

She doesn’t remember about that time in the woods.

She’ll think you’re crazy.

Aren’t you comfortable with where you are already?

He clocked it then as a risk. A risk he was still very much willing to take. It came out of him as something spontaneous, as an explosion inside him raring to go out despite all the doubts glomping down on him.

It had been powered by something, that was for sure. But was it frustration? Regret?

“You know Hange, if you don't want me to, I won't leave. I’d gladly stay here by your side. ”

He didn’t think too much of the motivation though, what mattered was that it did come out. And in its own way, it had left him a little lighter, and maybe a little relieved.

*******

“So what happened after?” Shela asked soon after she had scrawled another few words on her clipboard.

Levi shrugged. “That’s it. That’s how the story ended.”

“Really? With a half confession in the woods? You didn’t even say yes.”

Levi had spent the past week since they moved out of the condominium trying to write in between fixing paper work for Hange’s move to the dorm, cramming school assignments and studying for finals that was looming in the month ahead. He would have loved to blame his inability to write on his shitty schedule.

But I had more than enough time to write. He had at least an hour a night to write before bed. On good days, that had been more than enough to get something written.

“Is school getting busy? Physical therapy?”

“No.”

“Then why can’t you write a more satisfying ending.”

“That’s how it ended.”

“With a half baked confession?”

“Captain Levi was suffering from wounds after an explosion. It’s a miracle he even lasted that long.”

“So you think he died?”

“Maybe.”

Shela looked out the window, her expression unreadable. “What if you two did run away to the forest?”

“That would have been a nice ending.”

“Then why not make that the ending?”

“Because that didn’t happen.”

Shela shook her head in disbelief. “This doesn’t seem believable to me. Please try to continue writing.” She turned his laptop back to him and Levi found himself blankly staring at the open google document.

And the more he stared, feeling Shela’s observing eyes boring into him as he did, the more he realized how ridiculous that last sentence was.

I know you’re not able to stay out of the action.

It sounded like the awkward dialogue that preceded a horribly placed commercial break or ad, something Levi would have scoffed at as any other viewer or reader.

“But it’s not like I’m sharing this to anyone else,” Levi said.

“You’re sharing it to me and I’m not satisfied. There should be more to this.”

Levi looked up at Shela and back at the document a few times before deciding on his next plan of action. Shela’s glare was uncompromising and she didn’t look like she would take no for an answer. The document in front of him though, that tiny blinking cursor on the screen was calling to him, the bottom part of the page was blank.

And maybe there was something, albeit little, that can be done flogging a horse that was just almost dead. There were still a few more lines of dialogue that made its way to the pages and Levi was surprised he had enough of that clearly etched in his mind for it to so easily flow into the pages in front of him.

Shoot or listen. It’s up to you.

The last few lines had all been dialogue. But as he turned the laptop back to Shela, the latter seemed at least willing to accept that. “This still looks a little too abrupt...” she commented “ You sure this is how it ends?”

“Captain Levi could have gotten shot. Maybe he died.”

Shela dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Progress is still progress. Do me a favor and please think long and hard about what happens next.”

“I really think it ended with the conversation in the forest.” Levi turned the laptop back to himself, closed the window and shut down his laptop. “But I can try to get something else written out… Maybe a few more scenes?”

“Don’t try." Shela gave Levi a knowing look. “I want you to do it.”

And that look bore holes into him, Levi could have sworn she was a mind reader with the way she followed the laptop with her eyes as he placed it back into his bag. He wouldn’t have been too surprised if she could tell the contents just by looking through the hardware.

Levi had to admit though, what Shela was suspecting, was right. There was more to the story and these scenes nagged at him from the deepest pits of his mind, pleading for their own time to let loose.

They were terrifying though. They were unsettling and Levi was in no position to entertain them.

Not just yet.

Or maybe he never would. Maybe he would be happy never entertaining them again.

So maybe captain Levi died? Maybe they ran away in the woods? There were questions that had been echoed by Shela, questions that had been so easily answered by dreams that he had forced himself to forget soon after he woke up.

The complex emotions though, were very much answerable with a simple question, a simple explanation that Levi was in no obligation to expound on.

“But… Endings don’t have to be satisfying right? What if I just don’t wanna write anymore?”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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what-is-your-plan-today · 3 years

Text

Leave No One Behind

Ch 12: Win Some, Lose Some Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Part 1

Summary: After 2 years of being at the resort Ari and the other agents are gearing up for yet another mission, but there’s a little bit of trouble in paradise for him and Hannah…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+ only)

Pairings: Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Song for Episode: More Than A Woman- Bee Gees https://youtu.be/DtxBUp6hBaI

A/N: So there’s a little jump in time in this chapter as we fast forward towards the big dramatic end to their time at the RSDR…. Translation: Vete a la mierda = Fuck off.

Series Master List // Main Masterlist

Here in your arms I found my paradise, my only chance for happiness. And if I lose you now I think I would die. Oh say you'll always be my baby, we can make it shine. We can take forever, just a minute at a time

March 1982

Ari felt it the moment he woke up that morning. Even before stirring or cracking an eye open he knew the pressure on his left cheek was Simon. After almost two years the pooch still insisted on sleeping on the bed with them, crawling his way up between him and Hannah the moment they fell asleep and ending up on Ari's face sometime during the night. So by now, after many a mistake so to speak, Ari knew all too well what he was feeling wasn't Hannah looking for early morning cuddles but Simon's fat butt.

Ari groaned and shoved Simon away causing the dog to give a little growl and grunt of his own being as he was on the most comfortable pillow ever. Some things never change Ari thought as he stirred lightly and rubbed his eyes, unable to avoid a lazy smile when he realised what day it was.

It was the morning of his and Hannah's second anniversary and though the news about the clampdown and heavy military presence on the streets had screwed his plans to take his Firefly into Port Sudan again, like he had done the previous year, he was still going to make sure they celebrated.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit pissed about his plans going awry but at the same time he had to admit the last two years had been the best years of his life and that called for any kind of celebration they could get, be that in Port Sudan or in a fucking dump. Or a dump turned into a flourishing hotel for that matter. It was crazy how they had gotten used to life at the resort two years after that afternoon when he had made the call to turn their cover hiding hole into a real hotel. Their alter egos didn't feel false anymore, and he was as much Guy now as Ari. Mind you, Hannah sometimes called him Guy or Mr. Thomas, often with a fake accent to imitate Colonel Madibo to tease him.

He gave a contented sigh at the thought of his and his Firefly’s relationship which could only be described in one word, amazing. It was as normal as it could be given the circumstances and they had both built something solid out of their feelings for each other once they had admitted to them, that was undeniably true regardless of the true nature of their stay in that slice of paradise along the Red Sea. They argued, that was equally true, and they had disagreements mostly about silly little things which was to be expected in a long-term relationship, but nothing major that they couldn’t figure out at the end of the day. Hannah had moved into his hut a little over two months after her birthday when Ari had jokingly asked her to move in with him. She had laughed but done it anyway as it was the closest they could get to living effectively together, and now here they were, two years of being together nearly 24/7, except for the mandatory week of home leave. It didn’t escape either of their notice that it was more than the time she had been married to Andy and now that he thought about it, it was probably more time than Ari had spent with Sarah in the entire 7 years they were married for that matter.

Speaking of his family life, Ari was still exchanging regular letters with Maya and on his visits to Tel Aviv he had grown even closer to his daughter than he could ever have hoped to. He was on fairly good terms with Sarah too, although that had gone through a bit of a rocky patch. The first visit home he’d had following the time Sarah had accosted Hannah, they’d had quite a heated argument when he had told his estranged wife that she was out of order to do what she had done. In a blaze of bitter anger, Sarah had accused him of all sorts, including the usual about him loving his job and his new woman more than his daughter, which had culminated in Ari snapping. He’d loudly informed his ex-wife that this was to be his last field mission, and that he was leaving it behind for Maya, not Hannah or anyone else for that matter. And the little petulant brat inside him had enjoyed the complete shock on Sarah's face as well as the mumbled apology she had given him once his words had sunk in.

All in all, everything seemed to be finally falling into place and the fact that Mama Navon had invited him for lunch during that same week’s leave, having obviously been informed by Ethan that he would be around that week, was an added bonus. He had always had a smooth relationship with Maria Navon but they both knew she was not merely his best friend's mother anymore. The fact that she had invited him to come over without Sammy or Hannah being there too spoke for itself. They’d had a heartfelt conversation over the best Sunday roast he had eaten in months, probably even years, where he had come clean about his feelings for Hannah and his intentions towards her. It had been easier than he had anticipated, he had never been a man who liked or found it easy to speak about his feelings, but for whatever reason, when it came to talk about Hannah and what he felt for her, it just flowed out smoothly and Mama Navon had read that in the soft smile and the sparkle in his honest blue eyes when he explained how they had got back together and he assured her he had no intentions of breaking her heart a second time.

No, it wasn’t a “normal” life by any stretch, but it was good. He was doing something to help people and he was doing it with the person he had always loved. They had successful mission after successful mission over the past two years and the team had assembled as perfectly as Ari could have ever envisioned when he had written those five names down before handing the piece of paper to a reluctant Ethan. Hundreds of refugees had been smuggled to Israel and it was set to be another couple of hundred more in a couple of days. That said, given the way things were going with the religious and political landscape in Sudan, he wasn’t sure how much longer they had. A few months, maybe 6 at a push. It wasn’t a particularly comforting thought, as they still had so many people to help, but in the same breath Ari knew he had to be realistic. They couldn’t do this forever, they’d always known that. All they could do was their best, and the best was to simply go as long as they could, saving as many refugees as they could in the time they had.

And when they finally did have to quit, and Ari said goodbye to a life in the field, the fact he was doing that with his Firefly by his side made a future behind a desk in Tel Aviv seem that little less frightening.

Ari was dragged back from his wandering reflections by Simon who had jumped off the bed and was now scratching at the door. He looked at the dog and groaned as he swung his legs out of bed. "All right, I get it, just don't tear the door down." he whispered to the anxious animal before he walked to the door and opened it to let the mutt out for his usual morning pee and wander round the beach, mumbling as Simon trotted past. "Tell you what pal, when we do leave I'll be waving goodbye as you fade into the distance..."

"I heard that Ari, you little shit." Hannah's sleepy voice suddenly rang through the hut's space.

"He’s the little shit Firefly." he stated somewhat childishly, turning to look at his girl as he shut the door.

"Stop being mean to him." she said as she rolled on her back, yawning, her eyes not even open yet.

"He insists on sleeping with his butt on my face. That's what I call mean." Ari protested as he slid back into bed, reaching for his girl, holding her flush against him.

Guided by Ari, Hannah rolled onto her side again, snuggling against his chest, eyes still closed as she smirked.

"That's because your face is so pretty mi Lobo."

"Yeah? Well, in that case why don’t you sleep on it?" he purred, his voice an octave lower than usual.

Hannah cracked an eye open at that and looked up at him "Something tells me if I was on your face I wouldn't be sleeping."

Ari chuckled, dropping his face closer to hers, brushing their noses together as he drawled. "You’re right Firefly. You’d be seeing stars."

"You have a very high opinion of yourself Mr Thomas." she said, smiling against his beard so that Ari could feel the vibrations of her voice as she tilted her pelvis up to meet his.

"Wanna bet?" he challenged her, his voice almost a groan.

"What’s the cost if I lose?" she asked as she brought her right hand to his face to stroke his cheek.

Ari paused for a moment. So you want to play Firefly , and then smirked as it came to him- the perfect forfeit. "You have to lead the aerobics classes, not Rachel." he stated as he wriggled his eyebrows playfully at her, knowing she would loathe the idea of having to wear that leotard Ari so loved seeing on her.

Yeah, having a leotard kink when you spent half of the day surrounded by women in swim gear was kinda odd when he thought about it, but anyway…

Hannah glared at him before blurting out. "Oh, fuck off Ari! No deal."

"So you don't want my face between your legs?" he asked innocently.

"Fuck you. I hate you." Hannah groaned.

"No you don't..." he purred as he kissed her neck "...you love me..."

And that was it. He knew it the moment Hannah closed her eyes as he gently guided her onto her back and kissed his way down her body.

"Times like this I wonder why..." she sighed out, her hand fisting in his hair which made Ari pause at her belly before peeking up at her.

"Yeah, protest all you want but you love it, you just hate losing. And you’re gonna lose Firefly."

*******

An hour later, after having breakfast with the team, Hannah was at the front of the group of guests, clad in the infamous leotard leading the class as Jake leaned on counter watching. It wasn't too long until Ari walked over and spotted him. "You, out. Now." he barked, glaring at him.

"What? Why?" Jake protested.

"Because you’re a pervert. Out." Ari ordered him as he gestured to the way out with his right thumb.

"That's so not fair." Jake tried to fight back as he straightened himself. "You never kick me out when Rachel is leading the class."

"That’s because you're never here when Rachel leads the class. Out!" he hissed, trying not to make a scene in front of the tourists. “I won’t tell you again.”

At that point Sammy walked in and came to the desk, frowning. "Where’s Rach? Why is Hannah running the aerobics?"

Ari shrugged and glared at Jake when he snorted on his way out. At that point Rachel came out of the office holding some papers.

"I’m here and apparently Rosa lost a bet." she explained to Sammy who was looking at her puzzled. It took him a second before he groaned.

"I don't wanna know do I?" he asked as he squinted his eyes at Ari.

"Nope." Ari smirked as he stole a glance at Hannah who was now stretching and bending forward.

"Come on, you two are disgusting." Sammy groaned.

"Ok, that’s it. Everyone out. You too Ari. You never come to my classes, you’re not staying for this one either." Rachel cut them off.

"I’d come to your classes…if you’d let me." Sammy pouted.

"Oh, come on. You two are disgusting." Ari repeated Sammy's words, mimicking his voice.

"Ha! You coming Sammy is exactly why she won’t let you." Jake quipped.

"Weren't you gone?" Sammy spluttered, spinning round to face him "Fuck you both."

Ari couldn't help but laugh at his friend's signature reaction. It had been well over 18 months since Sammy and Rachel had come out as being together but Ari knew he still hated everyone teasing him about it, but he couldn't help it. It was fun and, in a way, it was payback for all the time Sammy had spent holding a grudge against him and Hannah. That said, Rachel was the best influence they all could have wished for. Not only was Sammy far ess grumpy and tense all the time but he was also more willing to enjoy any treat life at the resort had to offer without thinking too much about it.

"Ok, enough, I said, out...go on." Rachel insisted, shoving Ari on the shoulder.

"Hey, remind me…who's the boss round here?" Ari raised an eyebrow at her.

"It’s me when y’all start acting like pre-schoolers or horny teenagers. And honestly that happens far too often for my liking." Rachel simply stated as she held a stapler and menacingly pointed at each one of them with it.

And with that the 3 of them made to leave, just as Max appeared from the kitchen with a snack, Simon following him hoping for food. He looked at the three of them in turn, and then at Rachel, who pointed sending him out too so with a shrug he followed suit. The 3 men passed the front row of the group and Hannah glanced in their direction and Ari grinned at her as he left. Her eyes were positively shooting daggers at him and if looks could kill he’d be dead on the spot. But he would be a corpse with a semi boner having seen her the way she was. So just as he exited the main area, he peeled off his t-shirt and started running directly into the sea without much of a word to the rest who were now staring puzzled.

"I’d swear I can see steam coming from him." Max cuckled and Jake started singing quietly.

"Gimme some hot stuff baby this evening..." as he moved his hips suggestively causing Max to start howling so loud that the sound drowned Sammy's groans.

"Watch out for the fish, man!" Max howled at Ari just before he flipped them off over his shoulders, which didn't stop Max from teasing him again "They’ll think you’re happy to see them."

"That’s gross." Sammy glared at them, who were both bent with laughter.

"What's more gross…” asked Max. "Us or the fact he's boning your sister?"

"You had to say it." Sammy groaned again. "I’m done with you two."

"I wouldn’t describe boning Red as gross." Jake, who was now wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, quipped.

"Fucking fuck you." Sammy snapped at him.

“Ok, ok keep your pants on!” Max chuckled.

"Yeah, come on man, it’s us that aren’t getting any." Jake whined in an attempt to appease Sammy.

"Try fucking each other then." Sammy bit back, still pissed. Max looked at Jake, giving a shudder.

"I’d rather fuck the dog."

At that Jake slapped him on the back of the head "Asshole."

Sammy snorted and turned to leave, crossing paths with Simon who had spotted daddy Ari in the water and was now trotting towards the sea. "I'd stay away from Max, pooch." Sammy said seriously. Simon just looked at him, before barking and continuing on his way.

As he approached Max, he grinned “No food pal, sorry." but the dog completely ignored him and started running towards Ari who had now come out of the water and approaching them.

"That was fast.” Jake jabbed at him.

"I just needed to cool off.” Ari shrugged

"Yeah, well, I hope you last longer with Red." Jake smirked at him.

“Don’t hear her complaining." Max told Jake with a grin. “Quite the opposite actually.”

"Ok seriously, shut the fuck up." Ari growled at them as they began to snigger.With a glare he started walking towards his hut, but Ari knew them too well, especially how things were when the two of them teamed up, and he fully understood they wouldn't be willing to let him off the hook that easily so he prepared for one last quip which came from Jake.

"Still wanna hear about that bet she lost." he shouted at Ari's retreating back.

"You wish." Ari yelled back.

"I knew it. You’re my hero, man." Max howled.

Ari didn't look back at Max, he just smirked to himself. Of course Max would get it, he always did. "Yup." he shouted instead, popping the p, as he passed a group of female tourists on the way.

"Ladies." he greeted them with his signature cocky but friendly smile, which made them giggle and start whispering to each other as they passed him by.

"Seriously, how does he do it?" Jake gasped as they watched the group of women all pause to watch Ari as he walked up the sand.

"Animal magnetism." Max shrugged. "And I don't mean the fact he has Simon running at his heels."

*****

After a refreshing shower, more refreshing than he actually needed as he had changed his usual morning run for other activities that morning, Ari changed into a pair of fresh shorts and a light blue shirt. He was just about to leave hut as Hannah arrived back wearing that damned leotard, causing him to flash his signature wicked smirk at her.

"Don't even think about it. I'm pissed at you, Levinson." she warned him as she passed him by, trying her best not to surrender to that damned smirk of his.

"Oh, I'm thinking IT firefly." Ari laughed as he smacked her butt, causing her to yelp in surprise, and leaving her to shower and change clothes. He went to the main building to sort the arrangements for the call to Ethan later in the day about the last details on the mission and then just spent some time being Guy Thomas. The batch of tourist currently at the resort were leaving the day after next so he chatted with them for a while, ensuring they had enjoyed their stay and would recommend the resort to their family and friends back home. Satisfied real guests were as important as the ones whose number hung from hooks on the board at the reception desk as without them, their cover would be blown.

He was still chatting to the guests when Hannah came into the main dining area, her eyes roaming the room for him and she rolled her eyes when she spotted him being charming Guy, smiling softly as the ladies fawned all around him reminding her of herself when she was a teenager with a crush on her older brother's best friend.

Cliché much.

But those memories weren't the only ones that flashed across her mind. She had been feeling quite homesick lately but as she stood there watching Ari, she began to feel especially down. So, she took a dep breath and decided that baking her Mama’s banana and date loaf, which had been at the back of her mind ever since she had spotted some days before that Chef Aziz had a basket of fresh dates, was just the ticket to cheer herself up.

Of course, Ari had also spotted Hannah the moment she had entered the room, how could he not? But he hadn't noticed her leave and, after giving the ladies some recommendations as to what to buy in the souk at Port Sudan the following day, he turned around looking for her but she was nowhere to be seen. He wandered off to go find her bumping into Rachel in the reception area who told him she had seen Hannah last heading to the kitchen, which was exactly where Ari found her.

"You ok?" he asked softly from the kitchen's threshold.

Hannah raised her head and turned to look at him for an instant before her eyes were on the dough she was working on again. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You just disappeared." he drawled, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned on the doorframe.

Hannah shrugged. "I have more important things to say than watch you flirt, Mr Thomas."

"I wasn’t flirting..." Ari protested immediately and she once more looked at him. "Ok, maybe I was. A little."

"Satisfied guests, uh?" she teased.

"Well, need to keep the tourists happy, Han..." he conceded playfully.

"So I assume they’re happy enough and that’s why you’re here instead of with them now?"

She was smiling though he couldn't see it. All he could see was the way her ass cheeks were contracting every time she exerted force on the dough.

"That and the fact I wondered where you'd gotten to." he managed to say, after swallowing, his eyes moving back up her body.

"You missed me Mr Thomas? Who’d have thought?" she teased once more.

Ari rolled his eyes and approached her from behind. "Stop being a brat Firefly."

"I’m not being a brat, Ari and stop rolling your eyes at me." she scoffed, her tone hardened this time. "I can't see you but I know you just did."

Ari stopped behind her and cocked his head to one side and frowned. Despite her casual tone she wasn’t being as playful as normal "Han...what's wrong? You're not really pissed at me for talking to those girls, are you? Because I'm not interested..."

She sighed. "I know, Ari. It’s just... not today."

Now he was really puzzled. "Hey, come on Firefly, talk to me...what is it?" He asked, as his hands landed cautiously on her hips.

"Nothing really, it’s just I’m a bit homesick today." She said, not wanting to react to Ari's touch.

Ari sighed noticing the stiffness of her body and the sadness in her voice "Oh, baby come here." he said, gripping her hips and turning her around to hug her. And as he wrapped his arms around her back, his chin rubbing against the top of her head, he noticed the ingredients on the side for the first time and he let out a groan "You making... no... you're not?"

Hannah grinned and looked up at him. "I am."

"That's my favourite thing your mama makes" he groaned.

"I know baby." she gazed at his eyes, in the hope that he realised why he was baking that particular treat.

"So...are you making it because you're homesick or because it's our 2 year anniversary?" he asked, winking an eye at her.

She beamed at him, her grin now reaching her eyes. "You remembered?"

"Of course I did!" he said, holding her tighter, before pausing. "Wait...did you think I'd forgotten?"

Hannah felt her cheeks went red with embarrassment . "Yeah, I did."

"Han..." Ari started as he shook his head, chuckling. "2 years ago we got our second chance. Like I'd ever forget that."

She bit her lip. "I’m sorry it’s just you never mentioned us going to Port Sudan like last year and I assumed..."

"Baby, we can't. I wanted to take you, I really did but, with the talk of stuff going on in the cities, the whole clamp down and Sharia law that’s coming in, well, we're not married so..." he shook his head again sadly. "It's not possible or even worth the risk. You understand that?"

“No, I know. You’re right." he sighed. "God, I feel stupid now."

He chuckled as he swayed her in his arms. "That doesn't mean I haven't got anything planned."

She grinned at him, playing with the upper buttons of his shirt. "Do you have something planned?"

"Well I could tell you...but then I'd have to kill you." he drawled.

"Rude Levinson." she scoffed, pushing his chest as she turned around back to her baking station. "For that you’re not getting a single ounce of this loaf I’m making."

Ari laughed heartily, wrapping his arms round her from behind again and kissing her neck. "Don't be like that firefly."

"Like what? You don’t wanna tell me what you’re planning but I’m more than happy to tell you what I am planning. Which is not letting you eat any of this fucking delicious banana and date loaf."

He chuckled again. "You really want me to spoil the surprise honey?” Hannah smiled and this time he could see her doing it from the corner of his eye. "No. I’m just teasing you."

"What else is new?" he said as he pushed his groin against her from behind, his lips soft on her neck.

"Stop teasing me Lobo or you won’t get any and now I’m not talking about the loaf." she threatened, raising the rolling pin at him.

"Ok, ok." he chuckled and he kissed her cheek again. "You win." And at that she turned to look at him.

"What else is new?" she asked as she winked at him.

"Shall I remind you of the leotard you were sporting just this morning?" he raised an eyebrow at her and Hannah gasped, narrowing her eyes.

"Vete a la mierda." she grumbled and Ari snorted.

"Ok, I don’t know what that means but I’m assuming it’s not I love you Ari, you’re the love of my life."

"You assume correctly, Lobo."

"All right" he said, raising his hands up. "I surrender. I’m gonna go..." and he started walking backwards "...talk with some..." now a side smile on his face "...lady tourists. Keep them satisfied you know."

Hannah smirked. "You do that. Maybe I'll go talk to that group of boys that Jake took out diving before. They seemed nice."

Instead of falling for her trap Ari merely shrugged. "Talk to them as much as you want as long as you remember you’re mine." And with that he cocked an eyebrow, giving her a stern look and turned to leave, smug smirk on his face, his hand running through his hair.

Bastard, Hannah thought as she resumed her work.

**** Later that day, after having called HQ to fill Ethan in on the last details of the upcoming mission and a bit of an argument about the change in rendez-vous point at such short notice, Ari was sat outside in the sun with Rachel and Sammy. He was trying to relax, he was always on edge the days before a mission and having to call Ethan was always a task he wasn't overly fond of. Not because of the man, Ari had learnt how to deal with him over the years the same way Ethan had learnt how to put up with Ari's attitude which caused him the biggest migraines a boss could ever endure. The thing that stressed Ari the most about those calls was the fact that he had to sneak from the tourists and staff, away from prying ears and hope communication was cooperating. And that day in particular the resort was overflowing with people everywhere he went so the office was out of the question and the huts didn't seen secluded enough to him, so he had had no option but to drive a few miles into the desert and set the radio in the back of the jeep connecting it to the car's aerial.

Thankfully it had worked and an hour or so later he was back and had settled in the same spot he was in now, drinking a beer and trying to ease his mind as he had another secret mission to perform in a few hours, one that got him equally anxious but in a different way. He looked at Sammy and Rachel and saw Sammy's arm resting around her shoulders, gently rubbing her arm. It was good to see them like that for once. Unlike him and Hannah, Rachel and Sammy didn't feel very comfortable with PDA and they kept it to a minimum which had meant it was only after months of being together that Max and Jake had found out there was another couple within the resort management team.

Ari was so lost in his thoughts that he inadvertently gave out a big sigh earning an amused look from Rachel.

"I take it you’re still planning on not joining us for dinner tonight?" she asked.

Sammy frowned. "What? Where you going?"

"I’m taking Hannah for a picnic. It’s a surprise so don’t tell her Sammy." Ari warned his friend, pointing at him with his beer bottle.

Sammy rolled his eyes. "Soppy bastard."

"Leave him alone, he wants to celebrate properly." Rachel defended Ari.

"You’re celebrating something?" Sammy asked again, puzzled. It wasn't anyone's birthday, not that he recalled.

"You could say that." Ari grinned at him.

Sammy frowned, not following his friend, and Rachel chuckled. "It's two years today since he and Hannah got back together."

At that Sammy opened his eyes wide. "Already?"

Ari nodded. "Time flies, huh?"

"Yeah..." Sammy agreed, nodding absentmindedly. "Feels like only yesterday I punched you in your perfect teeth."

"You’re still calling that a punch?" Ari snorted.

"Don’t make me do it again you smug bastard."

"Wouldn’t dream of it pal." Ari conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Sammy smiled at him. "I guess congratulations are in order then."

Ari smirked wickedly, making Rachel raise an eyebrow at him, before speaking. "Save it for the proposal..."

And there it was, Rachel thought. He had got Sammy again, he always did, who was now choking on his drink as Ari bursted out laughing.

"You’re a shit Levinson." Sammy growled, wiping the spilled drink off his chin.

"Funnily enough that's exactly what your sister says too." Ari smirked again, raising his beer in a mock toast before gulping it down and standing up, heading back to his hut.

Hannah was in the shower after having been on a dive later that afternoon with Jake and Max, so Ari quickly changed and when she emerged she smiled at him, taking in his navy shorts and casually smart green button down.

“Hey.” She took the kiss he offered and he pulled back, smiling.

“So, tonight we’re having a night ‘out’ at the resort” he told her and she frowned, her expression puzzled. But he didn’t go into any more detail. “Just be ready in half an hour.”

With that he disappeared off to set up his surprise. With a little help from Aziz, who’d packed the food for him, and Rachel who’d managed to get him everything else he wanted, he quickly laid everything out and headed back to find Hannah was putting the last touches to her hair, pulling it back into a loose braid. She was dressed in a pale blue sun-dress which pulled in at the waist, falling to her knees, thin spaghetti straps resting on her sun-kissed skin.

“You look beautiful.” He smiled as she stood up.

“Thanks.” She said, that adorable flush evident in her cheek and he held out his hand.

“Come on Firefly.”

He led her to their cave but as they approached he tugged her in front of him, his hands gently moving to cover her eyes.

“Ari!” she protested as he chuckled, walking them forward

“Just humour me okay?” he whispered, his lips brushing her cheek. Once she was positioned in the mouth of the cave he moved his hands and Hannah blinked, looking around. On the floor of the cave was a rattan blanket, which held a picnic hamper in the middle, and various candles were lit as they nestled in the many little nooks and crannies of the rock that formed their cave. Hannah felt the tears in her eyes at the thoughtfulness and she turned to look at Ari.

“Ari..” she whispered and he blinked before he realised they were happy tears.

“I just wanted to do something special.” He shrugged, “seeing as we couldn’t go anywhere.”

“It’s perfect.” She assured him, standing on her toes to give him a soft kiss.

They settled down next to each other, Hannah tucking her legs underneath her as Ari poured her a glass of wine and the two of them began unpacking their food. Before long they were tucking in with gusto, laughing and joking as they always did, the light starting to fade outside as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Simon led at the mouth of the cave, napping. It was quiet, romantic, and they could have been anywhere as they sat and simply enjoyed being with one another as the night passed them by.

“Shit.” Ari sighed as he tipped the last of the wine into Hannah’s glass “We drank it all.”

“You only bought 2 bottles?” Hannah teased and gave her a look as she giggled.

“I’m sorry.” He said sarcastically causing her to laugh.

“Don’t pout Mi Lobo.” She set her glass down and shuffled over to him

“Ya know, my feelings are pretty hurt.” He muttered as she pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah?” she asked, her lips now making their way down to his jaw line.

“Yup…” he sighed, eyes closing as she brushed over the whiskers on his face, his breath hitching as she reached his neck.

“Feel better now?”

“Not quite…”

“How about now?” Hannah asked, her teeth grazing his ear lobe.

“Gettin’ there.” Ari mumbled, turning his head, his mouth finding hers. The kiss was deep, their tongues sliding effortlessly together as Hannah let out a little whimper, a noise Ari would never, ever tire of hearing.

Pulling away he ran his nose up her throat to her chin, nudging her head back a little and Hannah’s weight fell backwards onto her arms, her palms burying into the cool sand. His lips gently placed a warm, open mouthed kiss onto her neck, causing her to shiver softly as his right hand traced up her side, over the top of. With a fluid movement he slid the strap down, and his head dipped, mouth sucking gently at her delicate collar bone. Hannah gave a soft sigh and Ari moved, his arms circling her waist as he pulled her into his lap, her knees falling either side of his thighs as his hands slid up to cup her face. He looked at her for a moment, her blue eyes shining in the reflection of the moonlight on the ocean outside.

“God, I love you.” He whispered, his eyes closing as her fingers tangled in his beard, her lips ghosting over his.

“I love you too Mi Lobo…”

And that was it, those 2 fucking words that she’d spoken so many damned times over the past two years sparked something primal, animalistic in him and his hands moved her face back to his as he kissed her hard.

Hannah palmed her hands against his chest before her fingers carefully began popping the buttons of his shirt. As her fingers brushed his skin as she worked it open, the sensation of her touch caused goosebumps to bubble over his entire body, and as usual, her infectious smile brought forth a pulsating desire from deep within him that was impossible to ignore. Once his shirt was undone she reached up and pushed it down over his broad shoulders and Ari freed his arms, tossing it off to the side somewhere as Hannah’s mouth met his once more in a furious kiss. Her tongue was in his mouth, seeking his and he felt her teeth gently nibbling at his bottom lip. At that, Ari gave a growl and he pulled away, dropping his head to the spot on her neck once more, hands moving from her hips to pull her dress over her head. With an easy snap of his fingers, he undid the clasp of her bra and she pulled it off, dropping it besides them. Ari took a moment to look at her chest, his hands sliding up her ribcage, his eyes flicking back to hers so he could watch her response as he began to play with her in a way he knew she loved. Over and over he gently kneaded and palmed her sensitive flesh, thumbs skating her nipples before he softly tweaked them both, teasing them to soft peaks as he dropped his head, his mouth engulfing her right bud. He sucked and teased with his tongue before gently grazing with his teeth all the while feeling her grinding down on him, her hands tangling in his hair.

“Shit…” she groaned, nails biting into his scalp as he pushed upwards, the bulge in the front of his shorts grinding up against her spot through her now soaked panties, mouth and hands still teasing at her breasts. “Ari…”

“What do you want baby girl?” he whispered against her skin as his mouth moved upwards, beard scratching, teeth nipping her neck as she continued making those noises that he could listen to all damned day. Her hands let go of his hair as she fumbled to unbutton his shorts and he moved slightly so that she could pull them down a little over his hips. Her warm palm wrapped around now aching cock and pulled it free from his underwear and Ari gave a slight hiss through his teeth, slipping his hands under the hem of her dress. His large hands cupped her ass cheeks, fingers digging into the underneath just where the curve of her globes met her thighs and he pulled her tight against him. The grip of her hand around his dick drew a groan from his mouth and he swallowed, his voice raspy as he spoke again. “Tell me baby…” he instructed and then when she answered, her words combined with her hand tightening around his cock almost made him shoot his load there and then

“Fuck me Ari…”

With a growl, Ari moved his hands, pulling her panties aside as she shiftedd herself, her hand guiding him towards her. Lining him up, she lowered herself down, giving a long, drawn out whimper of delight as she felt him fill her.

“Shit, Han…” Ari groaned, his hands on her hips as he bucked upwards, feeling her hot, warmth tighten around him. “God you feel so good baby…”

At his dirty talk Hannah moaned again, her hands moving up to rest on his shoulders and without warning Ari thrust his hips up in a dirty grind, pushing himself into her as deep as he possibly could.

“Fuck!” she cried out, her nails digging into his skin, one hand moving to tangle into his hair at the back and she gave a sharp tug, pulling his head back.

The bite of pain made his cock twitch even more, but the noise he made was swallowed as her lips crashed onto his, and it was all too much. He needed release. Ari began to matching her motions, the wet sound of his balls slapping against her ass echoed off the rough, rocky walls of their hidden little hideout and his lips moved from hers to her jaw, nipping at her skin.

“You've had me hard for you all day, Firefly…” he panted and Hannah gave a soft wail at his words, “Such a fuckin’ tease…”

His movements picked up, becoming faster as he rutted upwards into her again and again, and she began to move herself, her hips rocking forward and back furiously as she ground her clit against his pubic bone, her eyes locked on his as she moved. Ari’s fingers dug into the skin just above the waist band of her panties, nails biting her delicate hips as she worked herself into an almost frantic pace, and Ari knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer.

“Come for me baby…” he said, his mouth back on her neck “Come on, good girl…”

At his words, Hannah was a complete goner, powerless to stop the pleasure that was lancing through her very core. She came, with a surge that shook her entire body, her head falling back as she gasped, mouth open, a broken, trembling cry escaping her as she pumped her hips wantonly against his crotch, riding the wave of her orgasm bucking once... twice... before she collapsed against his chest going completely limp, breathing hard. Ari’s own hips were still pumping upwards as he raced towards his own end, Hannah completely spent on his laps before he felt that coil in his belly and groin snap and with a loud groan, he came, the intensity shocking him slightly as he bit down on her shoulder, his hips stopping and he collapsed backwards, crashing onto the sand behind him, Hannah clutched to his chest.

Time just stopped for them both, Ari’s hands gently caressing her back, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to Hannah’s forehead as they both lay, breathing deeply, waiting for the earth to right itself. Ari had no idea if it was 1 minute or 5, but eventually he felt Hannah stir a she snuggled further into his chest.

“God, Ari, that…that was incredible.” She croaked. "Yeah....." was all he could manage in return.

Part 2

#leave no one behind #ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson fanfiction #red sea diving resort

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chucklegigglechortlesnort · 4 years

Note

MY B O Y S :( Yaku get your ass back here. I miss you. I love nekoma too much. could I request manager for Seijoh?

YESSSSSSS IVE THOUGHT ABOUT THESE WAY TOO MUCH CAN YOU TELL???

Seijoh Manager Headcanons:

Alright so by SOME miracale you manage to sneak your way into being Seijohs manager, which the whole team is pretty surprised by.

Save for maybe Oikawa - who got you the position - or Iwaizumi.

I say this because there’s literally NO WAY, with Oikawas reputation, that they let just some random person be manager for the sake of making goo goo eyes at him all through out practice.

They made this mistake during his first year and it didn’t take long for them to learn their lesson.

So the only way you’re manager is if you’ve known Oikawa your whole life and therefore are aware of how annoying he is, or if you’re related to him. Let’s go with the former. Because I love the childhood friends cliche that’s my SHIT.

So if you’ve known Oikawa since childhood, you’ve definitely known Iwaizumi since childhood. Therefore, the coaches let you on the team not only because Oikawa knew you, but Iwaizumi put in a good word for you as well.

Doesn’t matter if you have other hobbies or interests in clubs, Oikawa is dragging you into this whether you like it or not.

You’re already familiar with the third years upon taking up the manager position, so they’re not too intimidating. Matsukawa didn’t really talk to you much at first but you both bonded over poking fun at Oikawa and a mutual love of memes.

You have a photo of oikawa sneezing where he looks absolutely atrocious that you “accidentally” sent into the group chat once. Makki and Mattsun use it religiously as a reaction image. Oikawa hates it.

You don’t talk to your fellow first years too muc, except for Watari, who’s pretty friendly. Kunimi doesn’t seem to interested in conversation and Kindaichi visibly tenses up whenever you try to talk to him, so you figured you’d have the coming years to bond with them.

Oh, and did I mention? You get invited to all the Seijoh sleepovers.

Since you’ve been friends with Oikawa your whole life, sleep overs weren’t a new thing for you. His whole family knows and adores you and you have your own seperate room at the Oikawas so your parents aren’t worried about you sleeping in a room full of teenage boys.

These sleepovers are absolute chaos

Every sleepover cliche you can name? You’ve done it. Pillow fights? Check. Often ends in bruises and ice packs. Nerf Gun wars? Iwaizumi always wins. Mario Kart? Makki plays dirty. Monopoly? Who will land on board walk this time? Trick question the answer is Mattsun. Wii sports? That’s your shit. Oikawa never wins at anything. He hates it. But he does build the best pillow forts, courtesy of all his practice with Takeru.

You’ve definitely heard every one of these boys rip ass. Even Oikawa. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. If you think for one second that they’re gonna hold it in because you’re around you’ve got another thing coming hon. Once you’re all in a private setting together all bets are off.

Jealous fan girls definitely bombard you with questions of what it’s like to be around “Oikawa-senpai” all the time, and say how lucky you are to get to be around him every day. Oh the things you could tell them, you could ruin this whole man’s career. Some even come up to you for advice on how to ask him out?? And that’s never something you know how to answer.

Kyotani’s strange respect for Iwaizumi is one of the most baffling things you’ve ever seen. You’ve tried to figure it out but honestly you don’t think you ever will. He’s an enigma and avoids you at all costs. prolly bc you’re a girl and he’s intimidated by you lmao

He still respects you tho. More than he does oikawa at least HA

By the middle of the year Kunimi and Kindaichi are progressively warming up to you and you now have a first years group chat and sit together at lunch at least twice a week. Kunimi seems to gravitate to you more than Kindaichi but you don’t push it.

You are team mom. Oikawa jokingly got you and Iwaizumi matching mom and dad sweatshirts that say “Team Mom” and “Team Dad” on them. Iwaizumi refuses to wear his but you’re more willing to play along and will wear it when you go out with the team for ramen after games.

Iwaizumi wore it to one of the sleepovers once and you forced him to take a live picture with the both of you showing off the sweatshirts.

It’s now your lock screen background and he grumbles every time he sees it.

He seceretly loves it. Good luck getting him to admit it tho.

Oikawa has a pic of you asleep on iwa-chan’s shoulder with the sweaters on and he thinks it’s one of the most adorable things in the world. The best part is, Iwaizumi wouldn’t stop him because he was too worried about waking you up, so he just sat there and let it happen. What a sweetheart. Oikawa thinks himself a master comedian.

One upside to being seijohs manager is that fuck boys stay the hell away from you. They just automatically assume you’re dating Oikawa which is bothersome to an extent, but if it keeps the thots away you have no reason to complain. Even those that don’t think that are usually too intimidated to approach you because your friend group is essentially the seijoh volley ball team.

However a downside is that you never really know who’s befriending you for the sake of trying to get closer to oikawa which is a bit of a bummer. You’ve grown pretty skeptical of your peers and sadly your friends outside the volleyball team are far and few between.

That’s okay tho because they fill up a huge hole in your heart and you couldn’t ask for a better, or more entertaining group of people to surround yourself with.

It was a huge hit when they didn’t make it to championships though and it was even worse watching the the third years leave never having achieved their goal.

You knew you’d always have oikawa, he was basically family to you and by default you’d always have Iwaizumi. But Mattsun and Makki were going on different paths, and despite knowing them for only a year they had effectively made their way into your heart.

Oikawa is the most dramatic about it though, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and refusing to let go of you despite all your protests.

There’s one last goodbye sleepover for the whole team, Iwaizumi even wears his dad sweatshirt one last time for the occasion. There’s mario kart and wii sports, monopoly and nerf wars, and no one is able to sleep that night, not even Kyotani.

It’s a bittersweet goodbye and you didn’t expect to be this emotionally moved by the end of the year.

You keep in constant contact with oikawa and iwaizumi following their graduation (which you attended) and make sure to spend lots of time with them as well as mattsun and makki whenever they return for breaks. There are still sleepovers with the five of you, but the rest of the team as well as the new set of first years are less inclined to participate now that oikawa isn’t the captain anymore.

Oikawa still visits the team every once and a while to pester Yahaba about his role as captain, making sure he was doing a good job filling his shoes. He’ll even participate in practices and teach whoever’s the new setter how to cater to their spikers. It’s pretty wholesome to witness. Makes you miss the old days.

Ngl I don’t know how i’m feeling about these, but I can’t think too much about it or I’ll chicken out on posting :/

~tre

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darth-void · 4 years

Text

On the Streets of Coruscant

Chapter 3

AN: Thank you @sydnubabu for being my beta and catching all the commas I miss, there were so many, thank you!

Rated G (for now 😏)

Words: 3k

You heard your comlink chirp early one morning as you were getting ready for the day. It was Maul attempting to contact you. You checked yourself in the mirror quickly, and answered his call.

“Maul, what a pleasant surprise.”

“My lady, I hope I am not bothering you this early.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m an early riser. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You said before that you would like to take a ride on my speeder bike when it is finished. Is that interest still there?” He asked.

“Y-yes, certainly,” you answered, trying to hide your growing excitement.

“Splendid. I have finished it and done several test-drives. It is ready for me to show you.” Is that a smirk? You thought to yourself. He looks pleased. Paired with his perpetually furrowed brow, he looked almost wicked.

“Well, it’s a good thing you called early, there is no session at the senate today, and I had yet to make plans. Until now.” You smiled as you spoke with Maul. You were privately eager to hear from Maul again, your last encounter hopeful for another one, and it came sooner than you imagined. “My apartment has a small landing platform off the balcony, I can be ready in an hour, if that works for you.”

“I shall be there, my lady.” And with that, the call ended.

Maul was waiting at the dock outside your apartment on his speeder bike. He had ditched his hooded flowing robes for a more sleek look for the ride. He saw you making your way out of your apartment and noticed you too had decided on trousers and boots over your usual formal senate robes that he was used to seeing you in.

You started to head outside and your security captain had begun to follow, so you stopped, within hearing distance of Maul.

“Captain, I promise you, I will not need you for this. I trust Maul to keep me safe, and I will stick with him for the duration.”

“Senator, please-“ Captain Cen began to protest, but you cut him off.

”We talked about this, and you are staying.” You had a finality in your voice that Maul assumed you used while working in the Senate. He liked hearing you exert your power.

“Are we ready, my lady?” Maul said standing next to his bike as you approached.

“Yes, quite.” You smiled at him, excited for the ride. You looked at the bike and noticed the seating was a bit cramped. “So, how will this work?”

“Unfortunately, this speeder was not exactly built with two riders in mind, but I think there is a way for us to fit well enough.”

“Will it be safe?”

“You’ll always be safe with me.”

Maul went to sit on the speeder bike, straddling it, and making sure to scoot back.

“You’ll sit in front of me, here” he gestured to the small bit of padding left between his legs. You looked a little apprehensive, then he held out his gloved hand to ease you in.

The fit was tight, but it looked like Maul had found a way to adjust his handlebars and the backrest so you both fit and he could still reach around you to steer the bike. You were a bit scrunched up with your legs bent and feet resting on the bars above the footrests. Maul’s arms reached around you and caged you in close to his chest as he started up the bike. When you both were situated and as comfortable as possible, he took off.

Maul stopped the speeder bike and helped you off first. You stepped away and looked out over a vast vantage point, a panoramic view of the main hub of Coruscant. You could see the Jedi temple off in the distance, and the Senate building. The view reminded you of your first time on the ecumenopolis, the start of your Senate work, and the awe you felt in those early days and weeks, looking out at the vast city from your apartment.

“How have the proceedings been going in the senate lately?” Maul asked you as you took in the view. He could sense you wanted to talk.

“It has been… difficult. As always. Some days I do not know why I want to be a senator. Getting bogged down in petty squabbling and nothing ever happening.” You let out a little huff. “But, I do not know what else I would do, honestly. This does truly feel like what I should be doing. It’s just- it can be difficult most days.” You looked back at Maul who was casually leaning on his speeder. “That is why I’m glad I got your holo this morning. I needed a good break away from work.”

“You said you were not going into the Senate today,” Maul stated quizzically.

“Yes, that is true, but I do not have much of a life outside of my work, and I usually spend days off in my study preparing my work.” You had a feeling that Maul was the same, always working and never truly having time for himself. “What of your life, Maul. Have you been busy with… apprenticing?”

“I always am. If I am not busy with a specific task put out for me to do, my master insists I spend any free time doing work for myself. That’s how this speeder came to be.”

“A pet project then. Lovely. Tell me about it then. You said you made this from scratch?” You asked.

“Nearly. It is from a Razalon design that I stripped apart to pieces and rebuilt completely to my specific requirements,” Maul replied.

You enjoyed Maul opening up and hearing about his passions.

“I named it Bloodfin, after a powerful and deadly creature. The Bloodfin are a dark red, semi-aquatic predator native to the oceans of Bastion. For the rebuild, I had its energy systems modified to divert all power to speed. It can go 650 kilometers per hour, but I was sure to make it silent.”

“Are you a predator like this fish, Maul?” You toyed.

Maul smirked at that but stayed silent.

“There is something to be said for working with your hands,” you said.

“Indeed.”

The two of you shared a look…

“Come, let’s continue,” you said to Maul and walked back to the speeder.

Maul drove you around all over the city, no true direction in mind. He often took long rides and knew the city well. Maul always felt a sense of emptiness and frustration as an apprentice under Darth Sidious, so he would often take to the streets.

You two also stopped at specific places throughout your trip through the city, once for lunch at a hole-in-the-wall eatery Maul claimed was decent for the likes of a senator, and he was pleased to see you actually enjoyed it. Maul told you half-truths about how he came to know the area so well. He did have work in various parts of the city, sent by his master. For mechanical reasons, they were not. He drove with you until the sun went down and the city lights grew brighter before he headed back to your apartment.

As you got to your apartment, Captain Cen walked out to meet you, clearly having been worrying all the hours you were gone.

“Senator, good to see you back safely,” he said to you, then eyed Maul suspiciously. Maul smirked back at the man.

“Yes, I appreciate your concern, I’m back and now you can rest easy. Thank you for today but that will be all.” You quickly dismissed Captain Cen, but he stood there with a confused look.

“My lady?”

“You are relieved for the night. You may leave a single guard at my door if you insist, but that will be all.” To Maul’s delight, you spoke again with that authority in your voice, and Captain Cen had no choice but to submit.

“Very well, my lady. I will leave one person for you tonight. Good night.” He gave a quick bow of his head, and he was off.

You turned back with a smile to Maul, who was still sitting on his speeder.

“So, would you like to join me for dinner again?”

“Certainly, my lady,” Maul replied and gladly dismounted.

The two of you ate with a more casual conversation, a big difference from the first dinner you shared with him. Maul spoke little still, but it was better than nothing. Not to get too cocky, you felt pride in cracking his hard shell throughout the day and seeing a tiny sliver of him.

“I am trying for a different approach this time around. The Republic has an army, though a small one since we are a galaxy at peace right now. And the Senate has its delegates that form committees, what need is there to send the Jedi to do Republic bidding? I do not believe that the Jedi should be sent on behalf of the Senate to participate in negotiations. Negotiators. Ha! Why do they need those dangerous weapons for peaceful negotiations, hm? They should just stick to being religious beings that hole up in their precious temple learning about the force.”

You finished your small rant and felt a little better, but also a little guilty once again at unloading so much on a new friend. You took quite a big swig of your drink and placed the glass a little too forcefully on the table. The two of you had finished dinner and were standing at your balcony and looking out at the city.

“I’m sorry, I know I can get a little passionate when I drink, I-“

“Do not apologize for your rage, your passion. Let it out. I encourage it, let me hear your anger and see your feelings.” Maul’s eyes were lit up, they looked to literally be glowing. He looked like he basked in your rage, to see it flow freely from you in a moment of your unguarded true self.

“It’s just- They take children from their families! And so young… it's all so they can brainwash them into believing their ways, so they don’t know of anything other than the order.” At these words you noticed Maul's face darken.

“Were you…” you started quietly. You felt you shouldn’t continue in this exact question. Instead, you changed your direction. “I feel like I don’t know enough about you, Maul. May I ask you something?” You looked at him, and he made no gesture of acceptance or refusal, so you went ahead anyway. “Do you have a family?” The question was a little out of the blue, but you knew where you hoped this line of questioning would go.

Maul did not answer, but looked down. His brow still held his scowl.

“Are you force sensitive?”

Maul stayed pointedly silent. You took that as an answer in itself. You were almost sure you knew the answer anyways.

“The night you saved me in that alley, you were not close enough to the man, and I saw him get thrown against the wall. I wasn’t sure what had happened initially because it all happened so quickly, but… I played it back in my mind after you left my house that night.”

Still silence.

You started to languidly step closer to Maul, but he stayed still as you approached him.

“Is that why you dislike the Jedi?” You asked him. “They didn’t come for you.” You whispered so low, but he heard you. He looked down at that, then you took one last step and were so close to him …

You gently put a hand to his cheek, thumb lightly brushing against his prominent cheekbone. He looked back up, and his glowing eyes were boring into yours. His face was the most gentle you had ever seen it, the creases around his brow relaxed and soft.

Maul finally spoke, his voice low yet clear. “I do not remember my family. I was… given to my master as his apprentice when I was very young. I have been here ever since. He raised me, taught me. He is not an easy man to know, but he has trained me well through the years.” He paused for a second, his eyes giving away his internal conflict of whether he should go on.

“You are correct in your guess. I am force sensitive. Though the Jedi not taking me in is not my reason for hating them. I-“ he paused, figuring out if he could twist the truth into the lies he’s already told you. “I cannot say. It is a long and terrible story. Maybe someday, I will share it with you.” He looked up into your eyes, your hand still gently on his face.

You had hoped this would be the moment he would open up to you, he really looked like he wanted to, but you understood why he didn’t just yet. The two of you had only met a few times, and yet you already feel a bond with him. You didn’t want to push the trust he had given you so, you accept his answer.

“It’s okay, I understand,” you replied with a nod.

You noticed him look down at your lips then quickly turned his head to look away as if he wanted to do or say something but couldn’t. You brought his face back to look at yours. The two of you were so close you could feel his breath on your face.

Still gauging his comfort, you brought your face closer and kissed him, your lips lightly pressing on his. Maul was hesitant at first, but relented and kissed you back. He brought a hand to your waist and to your hand that was on his face.

He was gentle with you in this moment, as he always was with you. You kissed for a moment until Maul pulled away, pressing his head to yours. You stayed like this for a beat longer, wondering what he was thinking.

You finally decided to break the silence. “I’m sorry,” you said in a whisper.

“No, I apologize. I just. I don’t know if I should,” Maul replied. He looked conflicted. “It’s getting late, and it’s been a long day. I must return.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, neither wanting to move away first. Finally, Maul pulled away, and took your hand away from his face but still held your hand in his.

“I must go but I will return.”

You nodded in reply, not knowing what else to say.

Maul let go and turned to leave. He started up his speeder as he mounted it and looked back at you before he took off. You stood on the platform and watched as he flew further and further away.

Just as Maul arrived at his lodgings, he received a holo from Sidious. “Come to me at once my apprentice, we have much to discuss.” The call was terminated before Maul had a chance to reply. He quickly changed into his formal robes and went out again to the apartment of Senator Palpatine.

Maul made a slight detour when he spotted two Jedi, a master and an apprentice, on the streets speaking with some citizens. He couldn’t help but hover in the shadows and spy on them, allowing it to feed his rage and hide his true thoughts before he met with Sidious. The encounter was short, and he slipped back into his path to Sidious.

Sidious scolded Maul for his distraction with the Jedi and threatened him with punishment of death if Maul ruined his well-made plans.

“I know you are keeping something else from me. Tell me what else you have truly been up to. I can feel it. I know you are hiding something from me. Tell me now,” he demanded. Darth Sidious had a cold aura about him, and he was always scheming. His hold on Maul was tight and nothing Maul did escaped his grasp. Maul knew then that Sidious had known what happened with him and the senator he was sent to tail weeks ago.

“I have made contact with the senator, my lord master,” Maul admitted as he bowed his head in submission.

“More than just made contact. I ordered you to follow her at a discreet distance. She was never meant to see you!” Sidious yelled. “You have disobeyed me. Do not let it happen again.” Sidious started walking and Maul followed him. “Since it is too late and you have made contact, tell me, have you learned any more?”

“The senator does not seem to give up easily and is often changing direction for how to get her bills and legislation seen by the senate. After the attempted assassination, her security has been increased and no second attack has been made, yet.” Maul told as much information as was pertinent to what Sidious was after. He did not think that the private and intimate time you two had spent together was something he wanted to tell his master. They were special moments he wanted to keep to himself.

“Very well. I do, however, have a task for you.” Sidious explained his mission and sent Maul away to fulfill it.

Maul went back to his place and readied for the Kellux system. He decided before he left to send a one-way holo message to you.

“My lady, I wanted to let you know that I am going away. I do not know when I will be back but I will call when I return. I do not have time to say goodbye, I must leave straight away. Know this, I will be thinking of you.”

With that, Maul sent the message and boarded his ship.

#darth maul x reader #maul x reader #darth maul #maul #On the Streets of Coruscant

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fairiesherefairiesthere · 4 years

Text

Building bridges, the art of not being lonely.

Fraxusweek (hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus) day 5 mdudes!

Prompt: Losing control

For Freed, rigid rules formed the foundation of his very being. Mind you, the rules he decided to follow almost religiously were never ones placed upon him by others. He had followed enough of those in a past lingering in the backlog of his mind and returning to following them would certainly end with his mind in a state he'd long since forcefully abandoned. Self-administered rules were the only ones Freed Justine considered worth following.

Throughout his early teenage years, one rule was heeded above all. Don't get close to anyone and don't let anyone got close. It was an obvious rule, one that would keep him from getting hurt by less than savoury individuals and more importantly, one that would keep him from hurting people who'd end up being nice. Freed knew how to roll with seedy people, spoke the language of schemers as he was one himself, but had never known how to let genuinely kind people in.

Rest of the fic under the cut!

The first time he'd met someone kind, Freed ended up stabbing them in the back. His jaded thirteen year old mind could not get behind the principle of someone reaching out to him and meaning it. Although Bickslow had never acted out of line, hadn't graced Freed with anything but his joyful, loud self, Freed had seen it as nothing but a farce.

The older boy had basically him in as they travelled together, shared his food with him and held him when nights got cold, Freed always protesting that he could brave it without his help. Bickslow, in his natural elderly brother way, had claimed that it was him that was cold and needed Freed's bodywarmth. Huffing and puffing, Freed had always given up, gratefully soaking up the other's warmth without ever verbally expressing his gratitude.

He had thrown all that gratitude for Bickslow's kindness in the wind though when some policemen had managed to arrest him for a petty crime. A measly loaf of bread, meant for two hungry children, had been enough to get him into serious trouble. As Bickslow was getting arrested, Freed had picked up the abandoned loaf and ran. The last thing he saw, was the heartbroken expression on his friend's face. Quickly suppressing the guilt, he only ran faster. This world wasn't and would never be kind to gentle people. It was a lesson Bickslow had to learn the hard way, Freed reminded himself and he'd keep repeating it over and over.

Life was a lonely, Freed realised quickly after that, but the realisation that he was the one making it lonely wouldn't really hit him until he was twenty years old. Fourteen year old Freed though, got taken in by a girl just as lonely as he was.

Unlike Bickslow, who had been open and trusting, Evergreen was anything but. Whenever she spoke, it was with thorns and needles lacing her words and if one took the time to pry those away, it became clear that she too, was kind. She and Freed held sparring matches and bonded quickly over other little things. During their small talks it was obvious how much Evergreen longed for a genuine friend and although Freed found himself resonating with that sentiment, he never really gave into it. Evergreen was his closest friend and even she was held at an arm's distance. He could tell a whole lot about her, but made sure that she'd never be able to tell anyone any details about himself.

Even when he met Bickslow again, Freed could never really let go of the loneliness that was his closest friend and most dear armour. He'd expected screams, shouts of frustration and maybe even physical violence. What he didn't expect though was the thing that actually ended up happening. With a firm and gentle hand, Bickslow had planted his palm on Freed's hair, a comforting, brotherly gesture. "So you made a new friend? Introduce me to her, won't ya? A friend of yours is one of me. I'm glad that you haven't been lonely."

Their rekindled friendship had privately made Freed happier than he'd imagined being, a sentiment he didn't relay to his friends. Keeping them at an arm's distance was what's best for them, he'd decided. He couldn't hurt them if they weren't within his reach, he concluded. And yet, he formed a team with them. He appointed himself captain, hoping that at least his mind could protect them and himself from his heart.

After a few missions, they approached Laxus Dreyar, the guildmaster's grandson and more conveniently, an s-class mage, with the question to join him. Meeting Laxus Dreyar was Freed's introduction to a new enigma, a new puzzle he'd like to shuffle the pieces around of. The man's heart bled for other people, a fact obvious to Freed but for some reason not to many others. It was amusing for a while, watching him care and hid it all away under a cover with thick layers.

Maybe Freed was attracted to kindred spirits, lonely souls who had the opportunity to pull themselves out of it, but not the mental bravery, all of them too familiar with rejection from former friends and family. Laxus did differ from them there though. Unlike Freed's, Ever's or Bickslow's, Laxus' family did not completely reject him, in fact they loved him. It was Laxus who rejected them. Jealousy was an ugly thing, Freed realised, but decided to bury that too before it could fester too much. He'd distance himself enough from that emotion to not feel the repercussions of it.

With Laxus came s-class missions, something that Freed loved above anything. The higher difficulty of their missions, awakened Freed's battle spirit more and more, the thrill of adrenaline yanking out every halted emotion and he'd never cried or laughed more than on the battlefield. Of course, this newly opened hole in the dam, made the damn dam break and it was during one of these missions that Freed completely lost control.

He'd been laughing over something, intent malicious, vicious, he had wanted nothing but intimidate his enemy before obliterating him completely. It felt good, he felt powerful, he felt on top of the world. That sense of euphoria is all Freed remembered of the incident. That and then waking up again, destruction all around, his friends not spared and the lingering sense of an all-powerful exhilaration even as he laid eyes on the devastation he had brought forth.

The guilt crashed into him way too late and so he vowed to never, ever let it come to that again. The emotional bridge he'd built between his friends and himself become larger and the depth beneath him threatened to swallow him whole. It never did though, because although their friendship wasn't all-powerful, it still had its moments of genuine emotional openess that ran deeper than anyone of them wanted to.

But they were young and tired to the bone, so they let the moments pass, indulged in them. Thanks to this, Freed learned to weaponize some of his darker powers. There were still depths he'd never try discovering, but he'd fear there'd be no one to come and get him from the bottom. Weaponized vulnerability was all Freed allowed himself for now.

Then the battle of fairy tale came and went and the weaponized part of being vulnerable was hammered down (wasn't that ironic?). Gone was the armour and there was just a man, lonely but for the first time in his life, ready to not be anymore. He had his friends already, they were there, he would just have to reach out. And so Freed did and broke his most important rule. He hugged his friends and cried with them and it was gross, sweaty, too warm and also the most comfortable thing he'd ever done. He had also waved a friend goodbye that day (and was already looking forward to meeting him again, as they would both be better men then).

Not being lonely was working and working hard, breaking down age-old walls and learning to trust both old and new friends. It was rewarding work though and embarrassing as it was, maybe he'd cried a little bit when his brithday came around and Lucy and Levy had given him a book (I know you enjoy this series) and Mira him a cake (we cook together, do you really think you can hide your tastes from me?). Evergreen and Bickslow had invited themselves for a sleepover and they had fallen asleep in a pile of bodies. Once again gross, sweaty, too warm and very, very comfortable (or at least until Evergreen nearly raptured his appendix by elbowing him in her sleep).

When Laxus came back, permanently, Freed found himself crossing the bridge them first. It quickly became apparent that Laxus, although a caring and compassionate man, was graced with an awkward mess of a character. It shouldn't be as endearing as it was.

Quickly, Freed noted that the bridge they were walking on, was one of more than friendship. Both of them were still amending, finding themselves, finding ways to be more real and honest, but there was no rule they couldn't do it hand in hand.

#fraxusweek #Fraxus week 2020 #Fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #Bickslow #Evergreen fairy tail #Mirajane Strauss #Lucy Heartfilia #Levy McGarden #TheFairyWrites

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ruensroad · 4 years

Text

Starstruck

Are people tired of new AU’s yet? XD

It’s a JinYi so you only have @this-solaris-life to blame. P: Featuring Models!Jingyi and Yuan, author/conceptual artist!Jin Ling and illustrator!Zizhen.

(and behind the scenes Xicheng because it’s ME.)

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It wasn’t the largest convention he’d ever walked into, but the crush of people felt oddly more intense as he followed Yuan’s expert weaving through the main area to the back building, where the Artist Alley had been laid out. Perhaps it was because only a bare medical mask was all that stood between him and what could be a crush of fangirls that he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, perhaps it was because of just who was in that Artist Alley. Probably a bit of both.

All he knew was that if Yuan’s arm wasn’t linked through his, he’d have been lost an hour ago. Typing furiously on their phones - Jingyi to his father, Yuan to his boyfriend - they’d managed to keep their heads down and look normal enough not to be noticed as the models they were, which was a headache Jingyi didn’t need. He just wished his father was a better distraction considering he himself was now the fanboy. Lan Huan, long disappeared into Artist’s Alley to find his own fanboy crush, had only sent him keyboard-smashed sentences the past hour, which was cute since ba-ba only ever wrote out his texts in perfect grammar. It just did nothing for his own herd of butterflies bashing around in his stomach, keyboard-smashing right back in spirit.

If he made it out of this without fainting, he’d consider it a win.

It was thankfully quieter in the artist’s area, with more rows of tables to better thin out the crowds. Jingyi and Yuan still kept their heads down, just in case their masks were not enough, though it didn’t take long before Yuan was quickening his steps, jolting his already struggling breath right out of him again.

Because there it was, Table C71 and C72, with the partition down between them to make a double table. One side for the illustrator of the comics splattered all over the wall behind the two men sitting there, and the other for the author…

The author, who was unfairly attractive with his hair pulled up messily and a pencil behind his ear, grinning at people as they moved up with books to be signed.

“Oh my gods,” Jingyi croaked out and did his best to stop. Yuan slowed, but pulled him along still, stronger than he looked. “I can’t do this.”

“You can and you will,” Yuan laughed, then excitedly waved through a break in the crowd. “Ah, they see us! A-Zhen!”

The illustrator grinned wide behind his glasses and practically leapt over the table to join them amidst a gaggle of giggling girls. Jingyi barely let go of Yuan before his friend was engulfed in a hug.

“You made it!” Ouyang Zizhen said, holding his hand out to Jingyi with Yuan beaming under his arm. “A-Yuan told us so much about you.”

One didn’t become a model without being starstruck often, meeting idols left and right. But these two men, who’s only spotlight was a warm spot in a comic convention, who’s following were loyal Weibo and Twitter users, not rich companies trying to break their pockets - these two men were a whole new brand of awe, because Jingyi had chosen to follow them, to love their work and stalk their social media.

Shaking the hand of an artist who helped fill his world with some normal, exciting joy was breathtaking.

“Only the bad stuff,” Yuan promised as they shook hands, eyes soft and sweet over his mask. He nuzzled under Zizhen’s jaw like a cat and Jingyi had to bite down a laugh to see it. “Speaking of, did you get it?”

Jingyi immediately felt on guard with the near identical grins on their faces, curling their eyes to the same half moons. “I did,” Zizhen promised him with a kiss to his cheek, then quickly returned to his table. A white, hardbound book was soon being pressed into Jingyi’s hands when he hurried back and he felt his entire mouth go dry.

“A-Ling put these together for Kingdoms,” Zizhen told him, which was rather unnecessary at that point. Jingyi had fallen so far down the xianxia novel’s hole he’d recognize the border art anywhere. “Last couple sketch pages are a sneak peak into a new character we’re going to introduce.”

“And!” Yuan piped up, just as excitedly and, truly, they were a match of twin devils. “He’s taking quick sketch commissions on the covers. So get in line!”

He couldn’t even make a token protest, manhandled as he was into it, and found himself staring dumbly at the book in his hands as the line slowly moved. Holding an actual, real art piece of an artist he’d crushed on for months was a religious experience, he was starting to realize. No wonder ba-ba’s texts were all keyboard-smashing. Fuck.

Nearly ten minutes of waiting was not nearly enough to prepare for the moment he was pushed to the table and one Jin Ling looked up at him, a smile on his face that immediately faltered in shock. Jingyi belatedly remembered Jin Ling had followed his social media first, which had started this whole mess, and gave a shaky wave and smile, which he showed with a careful pull down of his mask.

“I’m sure Wen Yuan warned you…” he started, awkward, and wanted to smack himself. What a lame first thing to say to his fanboy crush!

Blushing, he thrust the book at the man, which was hardly an improvement. “Uh… can I request a side character?”

He watched Jin Ling shake himself off and quickly covered his mouth again when the horde of fans behind and around him peeked in on the newest commission. Jin Ling nodded, all business, and pulled free his pencil as he righted the cover to the correct orientation. “Who would you like?”

Gods, his voice was even better than he’d imagined. Smooth and low, almost surprisingly so, and his eyes had a honeyed sheen. Jingyi had to take a moment just to remember to breathe and not vibrate clear through the floor.

“Rulan,” he said, decisive on that. “He only appeared in a few chapters, but I’ve always been curious about him.”

Oddly, that had Jin Ling blushing, but with a nod he put down some drawing guidelines. “He’s a favorite of mine,” was his quiet admission, nearly imperceptible over the excited murmuring surrounding them. “I hope i can do more with him in the future.”

The news had all awkwardness fleeing in a heady rush. Jingyi laughed, startling him, and leaned in to eagerly watch him. “Please do! He’s so biting and funny, but also strong and gallant. My kind of character.”

Jin Ling was handsome, always, but with rosy cheeks he was stunning. Clearing his throat, the artist tucked his pencil back behind his ear and pulled out a Sharpie. Seemingly out of a bare circle and line, the smirking, cocky face of Rulan took shape and quickly. Jingyi watched him in open awe.

“It’s Jingyi, right?” Jin Ling asked, voice even quieter, and it was only because Jingyi was leaning in so close that he heard it at all. Their eyes met, a mere foot of space between them, and Jingyi felt his own face heat, even as a smile spread wide over his lips.

“It is,” he nodded, feeling like they were running with a joke only they knew, a charming secret shared, and it was only his name. Gods, he had it bad.

Jin Ling smiled at that, bashful, but a hint of that confident grin on his profile picture was starting to take root. Which did nothing for Jingyi’s heart. Shit.

“Well, Jingyi, thank you for liking Rulan,” he said and lifted the completed book to him, face open and almost sweet. “It was a pleasure to draw him.”

Jingyi took the book and stared down at the quickly sketched in, very beloved face of his favorite character. For Jingyi, from Jin Ling had been set in the corner and he felt his heart start to gallop.

“In my line of work… well, I guess I’ve come to appreciate the people behind the scenes, so to speak,” he said, hoping Jin Ling would understand. “I will always like Rulan, even if you turn him into an asshole. He was the first character I fell for.”

Jin Ling blushed again and Jingyi desperately wished he knew the reason for it. Still, that smile was disarming and deadly and Jingyi couldn’t breathe all over again

“He’s already an asshole, but noted,” he laughed, laughed, and Jingyi was pretty sure he could die right then without a regret in the world. “Thank you, Jingyi. I’m sure I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Later. Oh gods, there was a later!

Jingyi swallowed hard and nodded, knowing his beaming smile showed even through his mask. “Definitely.”

#ruenwrites #jinyi #social media love story au #junior trio #plus zizhen!#jin ling #lan jingyi #wen yuan #lan sizhui #lan yuan #ouyang zizhen #hints of xicheng too #sizhen

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starswordartblog · 4 years

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Super duper late thing for @oc-growth-and-development OCtober day 14, Cornered. I was super busy this week.

This can be read on its own but it’s a direct sequel to Day 4′s piece. Because tumblr is tumblr I’ll put a link to that in a reblog.

Also, content warning for religious trauma, I think? I did not base the Cavesong Cult on anything real but I think some warning is necessary for this.

Silvana didn't know why the men of the Cavesong Cult had her cornered. She was a simple village woman in the middle of her daily chores, getting some water from the river through her usual path, one familiar enough for her to navigate in her blindness.

"Miss Silvana, it's an honor to finally be in your divine presence," one of them said, voice trembling with delight.

"Um, excuse me?" She tried her best to hold back the shocked yelp she wanted to give, it would probably be rude around those important men. "I'm sorry but you must be mistaking me for someone else, I'm, I'm no holy woman, I'm but a humble villager under the grace of our God," she explained. No one had been forced to join the cult, but the people all came to accept the Cavesong God in some way. After all, His followers brought prosperity to all the villages in the area in name of their God, and had their magic as proof of His power. The more His influence spread, the more dangerous it seemed to be to invoke His wrath, and some defiant people had already paid the price, having been cursed with bad luck or illness or dried out crops.

"Oh, but you have been chosen to be so much more," the man said, getting close enough to caress her face. She recoiled from the sudden touch, and the man grabbed her by the arm. "There's no need to be afraid. You will finally be saved. You will be the next priestess."

"N-no, I..." the whimper of protest came out before she could stop it. She trembled in his strong grasp, terrified of what could happen if she upset him.

He pressed a finger to her lips. "Now, why would you deny it? God has chosen you to bless all the people in this land. If you reject your duties, surely terrible things will befall the village. You wouldn't do that to your people, would you?"

Why her? The priestess was vital to them. She would seclude herself in the holy grounds and dedicate body and mind to God and magic, securing their holy powers. Even the common people had several prayers to thank her for such an important role.

Why would they chose one this way? How could she shoulder all that? She would fail one way or the other.

But shaken by the man's words, she couldn't find it in herself to voice any more fears. She let herself be dragged away, head low to hide the fearful tears forming in her eyes.

She had never walked that far in her life, so she had no clue where they were anymore, she could only assume she had been taken to the holy grounds in the mountains, where the cult had been born. It was said it was once only a cave, but with magic, they had turned it into a mighty sanctuary, overseeing the passage between the region they oversaw and the rest of the world.

If any of the men had seen her cry, they had thankfully said nothing. She had had time to get used to their voices by then, they were four besides the men who held her, and didn't have the same grave tone as him. In fact, they sounded relaxed, complaining that the priest was getting a bit too paranoid sending so many to escort a single lady, and playfully joking about how special she was. To her humiliation she had also heard they laugh at her tripping countless times along the way, as she struggled to keep up with the hurried man pulling her along.

"Be at ease," he said, to no effect, "there will be no need for you to see or walk. You will only have to listen."

The words hadn't become any clearer or less ominous by the time they finally arrived. At first she heard their fellow holy men greet them, and felt the air change as they came indoors. Then all noise died down. The men behind her no longer cracked jokes or said anything at all, even their footsteps sounded more regular. Were they approaching the priestess' dwelling? She didn't know what to expect. Not for the first time she wondered what had happened to the priestess to start all of that.

She heard someone close a heavy door behind her, and the man who had guided her spoke.

"We have brought her, holy priest."

That actually gave her small relief. She knew the priest. Not only did he often preach in the village and lead the cult's magical effort, he had helped her personally when she needed the most, when she buried her old mother a mere year ago. Maybe with him there things could be cleared up, she was sure it had been only some big mistake.

She was pulled further into the room, her escort having adjusted himself to be at her side instead of in front as he had been so far.

She heard something in front of her move, the scratching noise of rock against rock. It grazed against her mouth, and the man finally let go of her arm to instead grab her head and press her against the stone shape.

"You will not talk," said the voice in front of her. She could barely recognize it as the priest's voice. It had no warmth, no energy, and was followed by a raspy noise.

"You will not run. You will not fight. You will not ask or beg. You will not cry. You will not harm yourself. You will not wish or desire. Should you do that, you and your village will be punished until not even rubble remains. No one will come for you. You will be proclaimed dead tonight, any sighting of you a haunt to be banished."

The stone shifted slightly, scratching her lips. Her arm ached. Her legs trembled. He continued in the same grave, monotonous voice.

"You will kneel in the depths of that cave, until your hear God's voice. You will listen, and the only words that will escape your lips will be His. You will listen to His songs, His magic. You will listen to His every whisper and secret. You will listen until you can tell all of His miracles, His cures to every ailment."

The stone pulled back. Her legs gave in, though her escort caught her by both arms this time, twice as inescapable. Once again she let herself be dragged by him, with no tears this time. She was shocked well past that.

Before walking away without a word, the man set her body to sit against some rocks, but she let it slip and fall to the floor without resistance. Without resistance was her chosen behavior for the day, and possibly her life from there on. It wasn't that part that bothered. She knew she was weak, every peasant should accept that from birth. She didn't mind bowing to higher powers, facing unfair hardships, and being dragged into pointless things. Her entire life was pointless, and it had been peaceful and lovely just like that.

This fate however, was a cruel mockery of her. Thrown into a fancy title, passed around by cruel people who expected so much of her, things she couldn't do. No humbleness, no peace, some futile turmoil where everyone would be doomed. What would happen when she failed, as she was obvious no real priestess? Who would be hurt? How many would be hurt? Why would they hurt the villagers for her mistakes, she had no family anymore and was too shy to have close friends, no one had reason to be involved in this, why not just her? She'd gladly stay with them if they didn't touch anyone else, why make her shoulder so much?

Footsteps approached, and someone wordlessly left a bowl next to her, leaving immediately after that. She recognized the smell of common fruits, freshly peeled. The fruits she grew herself in her small patch of land, the ones she'd eat at breakfast, the ones she'd serve to weary travelers in need of some hospitality.

It was the smell that belonged to a loving home, and the last straw for her. She wailed and wept into her hands, knowing they would disapprove of the noise, they'd warned her, but the guilt only made her cry more. She had worked so hard, no matter how much others looked down on her, all she wanted was an honest life, and now she had no clue what to do, if she'd ever have water to replace all those tears, if she'd ever get to cook again, if she'd ever feel a fresh morning breeze again.

The stale air of that chamber felt like poison. Back in the river they had cornered her. Here they had buried her alive. And that seemed like a long, long death.

Her screams died out into weak sobs, then even those dried out, and she was still alone. Time passed and more time passed, and she was still alone. Her stomach grumbled, and she was still alone, still with no intention of touching any food. Would they force her? Were they even real, had today been just a long nightmare? In that silence, nothing mattered, only the panic inside her mind wouldn't shut up.

"Eat."

She thought she had imagined the whisper, but the wind caught her attention. A weak breeze had blown from somewhere, and her relief was immense. Where did it come from, she assumed she was in a closed off place. She got up to her knees and ran her fingers along the wall, looking for some crack or hole.

It blew again, playing with the curls of her hair around her ear. "Eat," she heard, a little louder.

Silvana took a fruit from the bowl, understanding now the order, even if she didn't know where it came from. She hadn't heard anyone approach, nor did she feel any presence near her.

She felt once more that anguish in the pit of her stomach, that food was now something to be ordered to eat, no love, no care, hosts who didn't even bother to stay around. She clasped the fruit tightly within both her hands and held her head down.

"Please, please," she whispered, "I don't know what to do, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please talk to me, please just tell me what to do." The weakest breeze caressed her face for a little longer and then, defying logic, twisted and picked up strength only around her arm. The pain she felt from her escort's endless grip was soothed. She touched her lips; the scratches there were also gone.

"I am God," the voice said. "Worship me, pray to me. That will be all."

It was only more orders, but Silvana held tight to the brief kindness the healing miracles had shown her.

"Thank you," she said, and murmured a simple prayer before eating. She hoped that would be enough. She hoped God did not leave her in that silence again.

Theodora risked turning on the dimmest of magical lanterns for a moment, to see the sleeping face of the human woman she had taken pity on. For weeks she had sneaked around in that endless maze of caves and tunnels, unable to escape the watch of the Cavesong Cult enough to leave the mountains. The shame of lying and hiding away burned her spirit, but it wouldn't destroy her. She wasn't throwing her pride away; that was all for the sake of surviving as the last Air Elemental left, her father's beloved Sky Gift.

The Cavesong Priest was an utter fool who had killed her father to conquer the hidden power of the mountains. Even now as it consumed his flesh he still wouldn't repent, strengthening his hold on the region and believing himself holy enough to win a miracle cure. Theodora was a miracle cure yet had no intention to serve him, but if he was desperate enough to beg for messages in the wind she'd gladly play along.

What of the new priestess, though? She was a regular human with almost no magic, what did he expect to gain from her? Maybe he just didn't want to expose himself out there in the mountains, but how would a weak woman protect him more than his subordinates? It was pointless cruelty.

Her father always told her it was a duty of Elemental Spirits to protect humans as the weaker creatures they were. Having only seem the greedy, murderous lot of them, she hadn't had the chance. The young priestess however was merely a victim. Maybe she could be just as evil and corrupted if given the right temptation, but Theodora would say the same of herself if she had looked at the weeping human without a sliver of compassion.

She was no real god, but she could hopefully do something to keep that one safe. One day they'd both escape that hell.

#oc tober #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #fantasy #magic #despero #the priestess of cavesong #theodora the air elemental #silvana the priestess #the cavesong cult #cavesong priest #2020

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lgbtqueeries · 4 years

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A School Project as an Ode to Larry Kramer --32 Million and Counting

TLDR; This speech was a project for a Queer Studies class that I participated in. It is a speech in the form of Larry Kramer’s speech about AIDS activism in 1983 called “1,112 and Counting” I also wanted to bring into awareness what has changed in the 37 years since his original speech. The audience is meant to be the queer community, just like his was, but also to be open to those that would listen. Due to its nature, it encompasses public health, politics, humanity, and activism. I didn’t intend for this to be the case but as the project progressed we were diagnosed to be going through a pandemic much like that of what those in the 80s experienced. To this degree, I didn’t mean to scare but frustrate the reader, much like Larry Kramer. I wanted my speech to be uniquely mine, but be reminiscent of the effect that he garnered. I plan to post this to my Tumblrs LGBTQueeries and the-unending-kerfuffle as well as my Instagram @one_steph_from_death. I want to place this speech out into the world. Please feel free to reblog and share and comment and chat with me in the comments!

Larry Kramer started his count when the number was 1,112 and counting. In 1983. Think about that again. In 1983. Thirty-seven years ago. He screamed for help then, knowing full well we’d be obliterated as a group unless we stood up. He refused to be forced to die.

To frame this, a former entertainment star had been elected to the most powerful political seat in government. His staunch political and religious opinions led to the death of innocent people. He could have saved them by using his voice and asserting a need for research, laws, and education, but instead, let them die impoverished and discriminated against. If the hate and violent crimes didn’t get them, the sickness creeping in would.

Worst of all, as a community, we knew that he didn’t speak for us. We knew that this hate would kill us, yet we still remain silent. We remained silent as the hate trickled into the deepest pores of our community. We let the hate fester, building up and attaching to the difference among us until it finally separated us and dismantled us. We let the bigotry we so desperately try to run from infiltrate our ranks and break us apart into factions.

They were treated like lepers and untouchables (Barker & Cran, 2006). Hospital workers were nearly absent, just present enough to not be liable for neglect. Visitors were few and gay lovers, if they stayed, were sent away. Imagine that, slipping away in pain as you lose your vision and ability to breathe, your body starts deteriorating as it is filled with cancer and opportunistic infections. Alone. All alone.

And when you (inevitably) died your casket wasn’t lined in silk with cushions and roses. Yours was lined with plastic and biohazard material. Your brittle, thin body was crumpled up in the discarded sheets and hospital gowns and thrown into a garbage bag. No one was going to claim you, so no point in going to the morgue. Your toes, if you still had them, weren’t tagged, just set aside with all your other hospital belongings.

But the pain didn’t end there. Like the weekly garbage men, bags were taken to empty spaces and distributed into large, unmarked graves (Kilgannon. 2018). A secluded hole lost to history. A supposed bygone of the middle ages, but here to dispose of Jane and John Does.

If I was to scream like Larry Kramer, to these separated groups, I’d go hoarse within hours. As of 2018, 35 years after his speech, we have lost 32 million people to HIV/AIDS (CDC, 2020). That doesn’t include the people from the last 2 years.

We lost 32 million innocent people.

Yes, we lost gay men and IV drug users but they are still human. They still had the same dreams and aspirations as everyone else. They could have lived to be designers and playwrights just as well as becoming doctors and lawyers. We lost everyone one from, every walk of life. We lost painters, poets, magicians, musicians, surgeons, dentists, lawyers, physicians, firefighters, police officers, farmers, framers, parents, children. Their blood is on the hands of those that slowly took the life from them. The government is not free from their crimes.

But honestly, that’s not where the frustration and anger ends. Our history is being erased. Purposefully and eagerly. This situation that I’ve laid before your eyes seems to be that of 1983 and the pain of Ronald Reagan. The horror sounds painfully identical to what we deal with today.

Our current administration has continued some of these misinformed ideas and hateful actions. The Ryan White Fund, a fund specifically created to create a money source for HIV/AIDS research and treatment have received cutbacks and other plans set in motion like PEPFAR aren’t fairing well either. They are better in this term than in the past, but frankly, that’s not too comforting. This fund was the lifeblood for many organizations and they soon will be bled dry (Forsyth, n.d.). This does not take into account the other actions towards queer people in general. This takes into account only one facet of the government that is working against us. What about the judicial branch and the possibility to be tried for attempted murder for not disclosing your status to your partner (CDC, 2019)? It’s not like you have to do the same for other STIs. “On the count of giving chlamydia to your partner without disclosing your last date of testing, how does the jury find the defendant?” This doesn’t take into account the possibility you didn’t know of your own status.

And what if you wished to give blood? Say you’re gay and we’ll even go so far as saying you’re HIV-. They’d turn you away. They’d send you back for 12 months for not being able to prove you didn’t have sex with your male partner for 12+ months. May I remind you that lesbians and heterosexual men and women have gotten HIV and therefore can pass it along? This is possibly a law of Reagan’s 80s, but it’s still in effect TODAY (“LGBTQ Donors”, n.d.).

But I digress. The government is still not free from their crimes and institutionalized hate. I don’t wish to get too political but it is inevitable with the fact we’re all stuck in the past. Again, it’s not where my frustration lies.

My frustration is formed in the same disappointment that Larry Kramer had. In 37 years not much has changed and that the voice that we have as a community. We gained it with protests through organizations like ACT UP but we’ve apparently been diagnosed with laryngitis because we’ve become oddly silent. HIV/AIDS is not a disease of history. We haven’t cured the earth of this disease. It’s here and stuck to us like your legs to a hot vinyl seat. It affects everyone and intersectionality can increase your risk (CDC, 2019). There’s a reason it’s no longer called “Gay Related Immune Disease”. Yet where the hell are we?

It affects the young and the old. Yet we remain silent, pretending it’s not occurring.

We can blame it on the straight, cis majority but we are complicit in our own erasure, assimilation, and silencing.

We let our history fall by the wayside and be covered up with rainbows and pride flags used by businesses in marketing. We let our history be encapsulated by a month handed to us by the majority.

We let the atrocities that happened be forgotten along with many of the names.

We isolate those now that are HIV+ from queer-friendly functions, both blatantly and subtlely.

But most importantly we lost our gusto to fight for a better future for the generations that come after us. That’s what stings the most.

It’s important to remember that this disease is no longer a death sentence. You no longer have to feel the weight of shackles weighing you down towards the underworld. Provided, that is, you have insurance and can pay for your medications. But that is another government issue for another speech. With one pill a day, just like your Flintstones vitamins, you can live a normal life. You can date and with proper precautions, have sex and not pass it along to your partner. Undetectable = Untransmissable (UNAIDS, 2018).

While this may be a reality for us in our modern-day. I refuse to let those that sacrificed themselves for this cause be forgotten. We lost 32 million people and while I can’t list them all here or scream them to the heavens, I’ll damn well try. Those that came before us, despite their flaws, paved the way for us and I refuse to let them slip away because our government doesn’t like it. Join me in sharing the stories. If you want to see face to face, the humans that we lost, follow accounts like @theaidsmemorial on Instagram. End our silence. If it’s painful for you, imagine how it must feel for the friends and families of those that lost someone of the 32 million. They need your help to speak up.

We started this with 1,112 and counting. Now we’re at 32 million and counting. Let’s end the counting and start the protesting.

Works Cited

Barker, G., & Cran, W. (2006, May 30). Retrieved from https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/frontline/film/aids/

Centers for Disease Control. (2020, January 16). U.S. Statistics. Retrieved from https://www.hiv.gov/hiv-basics/overview/data-and-trends/statistics

Forsyth, A. D. (n.d.). Powerpoint presentation.

HIV and STD Criminal Laws. (2019, July 1). Retrieved from https://www.cdc.gov/hiv/policies/law/states/exposure.html

HIV by Group. (2019, October 25). Retrieved from https://www.cdc.gov/hiv/group/index.html

Kilgannon, C. (2018, July 3). Dead of AIDS and Forgotten in Potter's Field. Retrieved from https://www.nytimes.com/2018/07/03/nyregion/hart-island-aids-new-york.html

LGBTQ Donors. (n.d.). Retrieved from https://www.redcrossblood.org/donate-blood/how-to-donate/eligibility-requirements/lgbtq-donors.html

UNAIDS Explainer. (2018). UNAIDS Explainer. Retrieved from https://www.unaids.org/sites/default/files/media_asset/undetectable-untransmittable_en.pdf

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fromthewritingcorner · 4 years

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The Two Headed Dog part 3

Part 1/ Part 2

Before heading up stairs to bed, Michael took the gun out back and hid the weapon inside a plastic bag before dumping it in the dumpster. He was thorough in making sure to wipe any fingerprints off the offending object before tossing it. He had no need to catch a case for someone else's crime. The last thing he wanted was the police rolling up to a bar that catered to otherworldly beings. Not something that would go over real well with his clients.

After double checking that the bar was locked and secure, Michael made his way upstairs to the apartment. His nerves were fried and he was in desperate need of sleep. Tomorrow would bring a new day, and hopefully, nothing would come from tonight.

Because of the money the bar brought in, Michael was able to secure his daughter a seat at one of the more distinguished schools on the other side of the city. It was all worth it. Being able to send her to a school where she could make something of herself reminded him why he accepted what he did. Besides, demons as customers weren't so bad.

“Bye Daddy!” Michael waved back at his little girl as she left his side and joined the crowd of other children being dropped off at school.

“Bye Angel. Have a good day, alright.” Michael sighed and took a sip of his now lukewarm coffee and walked away from the school. It would be another half an hour metro ride back to his side of town. But he found some enjoyment in the alone time he had on the trip back. Gave him time to think and reflect on some things. For instance, he thought back to the first time had he stumbled inside the old gutter bar that was now his.

He recalls running- a whole lot of running. Michael had the unfortunate luck to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time, and finding himself stumbling on the scene of a robbery gone wrong. He could remember seeing five guys and an old man hunched down on the ground. It didn't take a whole lot of questions to understand what had taken place only minutes before Michael stumbled into the ally.

For a second, time seemed to freeze as the men, and Michael, evaluated the situation at hand. As soon as time seemed to resume, the men knew they now had a witness, and Michael knew he now had to run. The six of them all came to the same conclusion and as fast as he could, Michael pivoted on his feet and ran.

Adrenalin was a hell of a response, and as Michael ran, he could feel his heart pick up in speed. Survival instinct can go along away for a kid on the streets. So Michael used his knowledge of his home city to try and lose the men chasing after him. It was late and the streets were mostly empty of any pedestrians and Michael knew his only hope of losing his pursuers would be to duck into an empty building on the off chance they wouldn't notice him do it.

Taking a corner close enough he felt the red brick of the building scrape into his arm Michael noticed he finally had his opportunity. As quickly as he could, he swung open a door to what he thought was an abandoned building and scrambled inside. Michael leaned back against the door with his eyes squeezed shut, praying that they hadn't noticed the slip he gave them.

But as Michael did his best to regain his breath, he suddenly got the feeling that he wasn't alone. Opening his eyes, he took notice of the figures that inhabited the dive bar he had stumbled into.

“Hey there kid, you over 21?” Back in the present, Michael couldn't help but smirk thinking back to the first words the older woman who once owned the bar had said to him. That was the day everything changed for him. He was once just a kid stuck in the foster care system, not once had he thought things such as demons were real. Not until that day.

The train finally came up to his stop and Michael got off. He would be making the same trip later on in the afternoon when school let out, but for now he made his way home. This was the routine. One he didn't mind sticking to on a daily basis. Peace can be found in many different forms in life, for him, he found it in the more basic day to day happenings. Dropping off his little girl at school, the quiet train ride home, and not having to deal with looking over his shoulder day to day like he once did when he was younger.

His day was filled with the mundane happenings of owning a business as he budgetted his bars finances and filled out alcohol orders. How strange to manage something seemingly so human and normal, for a business that catered to inhuman beings who really had no need for Michael. But, for some odd reason, they seemed to tolerate him and allow him the opportunity to run his business and make a living off their patronage.

What strange world that has been opened up the man. He once never even entertained the idea that demons could even exist. Growing up the only scary stories he had were drugs and gang violence. Now a whole new world was opened up to him, one that sent a cold chill of fear every time a demon shed their human skin and took a seat at his bar.

He was never much for religion. Michael could remember one foster family that took him in for a few months. Both parents were religious and believe in the power of faith. He could remember being dragged out of bed every Sunday morning to attend Sunday mass. The bible was read to him and the other foster kids almost nightly, and prayers were a constant in the household. But as Michael thought back to those few months, he honestly couldn't remember anything about what the bible actually said or what the pastor at the church droned on about every Sunday.

He could admit that he was curious about his customers, but he stayed away from going down that rabbit hole. Michael found it safer to keep his distance and serve the drinks, rather than go hunting down answers.

Later on in the afternoon Michael put aside the bars paperwork and headed back out into the city to pick up his daughter from school. The air still held onto its chill from this morning as the winter months set in. He would no doubt have to take Angel winter clothes shopping as she was at that age where she grew out of everything.

As Michael lost himself within his own thoughts, a figure came up behind him. If he had been paying attention, he would have recognised the grey sweatshirt. Before Michael could even think of defending himself, he was yanked off the sidewalk and pulled down an alleyway. The tall buildings on either side of him casted a dark shadows as Michael found himself falling to the dirty ground.

“Son of a bitch.” He groaned out as he tried to gain his bearings and find his assailant. As Michael's eyes adjusted, he found more than one person standing over him. Four grown men surrounded him, one he finally recognised from his sweatshirt. “You-”

Before he could get any more words out, Michael found himself being shut up with a swift kick to the jaw. The crack his teeth made as the clanked together sent a jolt of pain down his spine as his face pulsed. Fear welled up in his gut as the four men came closer, but did nothing as the younger man pulled off his hood and stared down at him.

“Yeah, you remember me, huh? Gabriel told me to send you message about withholding funds.” Another flash of pain came over Michael as the young man let lose his fist against his face. “We ain't here to mess around anymore. It's time people like you learned to fear us again. Gabriels changing things up now. Now you have to learn to pay up.”

The man looked to the others and nodded his head. Before Michael could protest an onslaught of pain erupted from all over his body. Growing up, Michael has seen his fair share of fights, but this wasn't a fight, it was a massacre that he had no chance of winning.

Pain blossomed on the abdomen as a rough kick struck him directly in the gut. Michael could feel the air left his lungs in a rush as he curled up in on himself.

“Now your going to learn what the streets are really about now.” Before the ring leader of the assault could strike Michael again, his phone rang. He frowned, but the second he saw who the caller was, a sick smile spread across his face. “Hello. Yeah, were here with him.” A pause. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to let him know.”

He hung up the phone and kneeled down to look Michael in the eyes. “Nice seeing you again man.” He stuck out a hand and roughly patted him on the back. “Come on, let's get out of here.” The other men nodded and left Michael panting on the ground.

Before walking out of the ally, the man in the gray sweatshirt turned around and looked back down at Michael. “We’ll be seeing you around, Michael.” His heart pounded in his chest as he watched the man turn back around, waving his hand over his shoulder. “Say hello to your little girl for us.”

It was like a stone had been dropped into Michael's stomach as he stared at the retreating man with wide eyes. His daughter, something was wrong, they had done something to Angel. He had never felt panic like this before. It was as if his whole body had been set on fire, then quickly doused with ice cold water. He had to move. He had to get up.

With his body beaten and bruised, Michael rose and limped his way out of the ally. He paid any curious passersby with no regard as he made his way to the train station as quickly as he could. She had to be there; there was no way the school was just going to allow his daughter to be taken by some stranger. But as he thought on the possibility that it could happen, his gut clenched painfully.

The pain was nothing compared to the panic that ran through Michaels body as he made it to the school. The crowd of children leaving the building told Micheal that school had already been let out. His gut clench with each face that passed. None of them were his daughter. None of them were Angel.

He had half a mind to start shouting her name, but he kept his mouth shut as as child after child passed him by. She had to be here, she had too. He couldn't lose her, not her.

Michael felt his frustration and fear peek as the crowd started to dwindle and soon the front of the school was left empty. He couldn't find her, he couldn't find his daughter. Michael limped up the stairs and pushed his way through the doors and into the school; shouting for anyone who would hear him. Luck was on his side as one of the schools faculties stepped out of the room nearest the schools front entrance.

“Is there something I can help you with Mister?” The woman asked as Michael looked frantically around the hall.

“My daughter, have you seen my daughter?” Michael practically shouted at the confused woman. “Angel, her name is Angel. Have you seen her?”

The woman stared at Michael with wide eyes as he desperately asked for his daughter. But from the way she stared blankly at him, he knew she had no information on where Angel was. Something told Michael that she was no longer even in the school. The realization caused fear to create an icy pit in his stomach. What has he done. No, he needed to fix this, he needed to get back to the Two Headed Dog. There he would make a plan to get his daughter back.

Without looking back at the woman, Michael left the school as quickly as he could. He needed to make up for lost time, he needed to get his daughter back.

#the two headed dog writing story creative from the writing corner write stories

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this-is-pretty-awkward · 5 years

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Halloween Hcs

(Some) MALE STUDENTS~

Iida

- Iida views Halloween as childish, “We are U.A students and too old for such foolery.” You and the rest of the deku squad rope him into some Halloween shenanigans nonetheless.

- The whole squad goes to a Halloween store, Iida of course protesting in the background, but none of your pay much attention other than when you grab his with puppy dog eyes aimed at him like a weapon and tell him to loosen up. He blushes a bit at this and does the anime thing where they push their glasses up. “We all do have our homework done and there isn’t a test tomorrow…” “You’re the best Tenya.” You say, placing a kiss on his cheek before dragging him away.

- You go through the costumes, joking around and you can’t help but to tease Iida a bit by acting like you’re actually considering to be a ‘Naughty Police Officer’ or ‘Fiery Hot Demon’. Iida pushes you away from that section jabbering away about modesty as you laugh to yourself.

- In the end though you sneak a legitimately scary costume for yourself and the matching one for Iida. You get Tsuyu and Midoriya to distract him while you check it out.

- You’re all going to be trick or treating together, but once again Iida tries to resist you and your persuasions to participate in Halloween, like even Todoroki is going trick or treating, come on man.

- You’re in your costume (Your choice just think up something that’s mildly scary, it can be sexy too, I imagine like a zombie duo cuz Iida got the height to be a zombie like Lurch or something or Frankenstein and Frankenstein’s bride/groom even though it’s cliche) When you hand him the one you got him. “I bought you a matching costume and everything!” He caves of course.

- And surprise surprise you guys have fun! You and Iida walk hand in hand and joke around with the rest of the deksquad, having a good time. When you get back and you ask Iida if he had fun he admits that he did enjoy the outing and that happiness and fondness that he expressed was probably your favorite thing that night.

Todoroki

- It’s Todoroki’s first first Halloween and you want to make it the best you can. He’s a bit confused by it all, the purpose and general traditions flying over his head at times. You have to give him a full background on it and even delve into the the actual origins of Halloween. Samhain, All Saints Day, witches, black cats, Jack O’Lanterns, soul cakes, the whole spiel.

- That probably wasn’t the best idea, because now Todoroki’s even more confused, because praying to help people out of purgatory??? What??? I’m not religious? So you just tell him to forget all of that and just focus on the modern basics, scary movies, haunted houses, candy, trick or treating, costumes, and parties.

- You watch a Halloween movie with Todoroki ‘for teaching reasons’, you really just wanted to cuddle with your boyfriend and watch a corny Halloween movie. The movie is The Midnight Hour, which isn’t necessarily scary, but it’s fun to laugh at the really bad costumes. That werewolf looks terrible.

- You dress up as a (Knight or Princess or both something along those lines) to match with Todoroki’s prince costume.

- Whether you go trick or treating or participate in a party at the dorms you guys have a fun night. Todoroki is super cute throughout all of it no matter what it is. You compliment his costume, making him a little flustered, because it’s just a costume right? He likes seeing you so excited about everything and if you two go to a Halloween party dancing would be so cute. He probably knows some fancy waltz or something, but you try to get him to loosen up and succeed, though he’s pretty awkward.

Tokoyami

- You love your emo boyfriend so much and his enthusiasm over the holiday is adorable. He’s so into it, he loves the spookiness and for a solid month he’s in this mood. You call it his ‘Halloween Hype’. Tokoyami is strangely energetic about all things regarding Halloween during this phase.

- You guys carve pumpkins together, which goes great, it causes a mess and he gets some pumpkin guts in his feathers. Tokoyami is surprisingly good at pumpkin carving, like you know those ones that give the carving textures and use the shavers so that it doesn’t go all the way through or its super thin that you can still see the light, like that. His pumpkin is super artistic and probably something like a crow on a tree in front of a moon and it’s all spooky and realistic looking. While you just kind of did a cat’s whiskers and little holes for eyes and it’s mouth/nose.

- For Halloween he doesn’t really dress up though, because he doesn’t need to, he just wears his hero costume and lets dark shadow be spooky. I imagine you’re like a cute witch or warlock and you introduce Tokoyami as your familiar. Tokoyami hates it, because he is a terrifying shadow demon that should be feared, but the little bird pout your boyfriend gets is cute.

- Each day of October he gets slightly more cryptic with what he says to the point that you have to translate for him sometimes. Tokoyami is practically speaking in only riddles and poems the day of Halloween and there are times that even you can’t figure out what he’s trying to say. You try your best to understand him though, because it ruins his Halloween groove if he can’t talk like a cryptid.

Bakugou

- He’s “Too cool for Halloween, that’s for kids.” The insistent whining and passive aggressive comments of the bakusquad+you eventually have him give in. However Bakugou is now set on making everything super terrifying to make it not so kiddish.

- Getting him into a costume is pretty hard as well, he ends up like a werewolf and you’re some non supernatural thingy or whatever. If it’s attractive in any way Bakugou has his hands on you at all times you’re wearing it.

- It’s a week or two before Halloween, he’s already been pressured into participating by you guys, and he’s isn’t throwing as much of a fit as you’d expected. You don’t know if this is just because he never really cared in the first place or what. You and the rest of the squad realize this as you, without fear, inhale the cupcakes that Bakugou left while he was ‘doing something’. You guys thought you were being sneaky, but it seems that this was all Bakugou’s plan because when you bite into the cupcake, all at the same time, you guys are met with a crunch that isn’t supposed to be there. You’re all screaming, spitting out the remains of what you realized to be dried spider remains (they’re edible of course).

- Bakugou cackles in the background and that’s when it starts… the ‘Bakusquad Halloween Prank War’. At first its just everyone against Bakugou in a few pranks, however most don’t succeed and Mina abandons the rest of you. They’re an unstoppable duo, but you, Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima have some good ones. It’s neck and neck, Halloween night, where you pull the last ultimate prank on Bakugou and Mina. There’s a whole fake ritual gone wrong thing, and you had to stop it before Mina started crying and Bakugou blow things up.

- Halloween ends in a bit of a sour mood, because Bakugou was genuinely worried about you and he’s mad about it of course. You apologize to him of course to which he tches at (cuz anime) and turns around, just to squish a palmful of slime on your face. “You’re forgiven asshole.” “...Thanks babe.”

- Oh and prank wars aside, baking Halloween treats with Bakugou is a must. Cutting out sugar cookies into spooky shapes (they aren’t that spooky) and decorating them with frosting and colored icing. Icing gets on both of your faces and in at least one of your’s hair. You two still have a batch to go, but got… distracted (you’re making out). The rest of the bakusquad break in at that point and now you’re back to icing, Bakugou complaining at the abrupt end to your makeout session.

#iida tenya #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #tokoyami fumikage #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #tokoyami x reader #iida x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader

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wolfinshipclothing · 6 years

Text

A Brand New Day, a Whole New Life 2/?

AO3/FF

Summary: It’s been a month since Marco departure to Mewni, and he still lingers in Jackie’s head. But when she meets a new guy in the park and he invites her to a party, she thinks its finally the time to move on.And then everything goes to Hell.Now, she is trapped, she is hurt, and she might die soon… If she doesn’t escape.Without powers or skills to aid her, she will need to put her head to use and figure out a plan! The good news are she might find an ally.

Excerpt:

Silence. The voices slowly rose up, in a strange reverberating song. Even if Jackie were not mind numbingly scared, she still wouldn’t have understand any of that religious chorus. The room seemed to spin and tremble, filled with unnatural whispers. Jackie saw a faint light, just at the moment the Leader pulled out a long Staff from behind his back. It looked like a giant lamp. He moved it around like an orchestra conductor. She had the strange idea that the voices seemed to spin around that Staff. “Begin the sacrifices!” The room exploded in crying when the Leader produced a sword with his free hand and stabbed the boy. He went still on the floor, his blood spilling on the chalk circle. But the chalk was not erased; instead, it served as a pattern for the blood to flow around. One by one, all the kids felt, their corpses pilling on the floor; their blood adding to the circle. The ones who were watching the scene struggled in vain, and eventually they went silent too. Soon it was Jackie's turn.

Jackie woke up to a world of stone-cold cement and heartbreaking crying. She felt as if her brain has been put on top speed roulette wheel. She blinked repeatedly, trying to recover the capacity of rational thinking. The first thing she thought was that she had a mind clouding headache, and that she wanted to get the hell outta there and go home. The second thing she thought was that she had no idea where 'there' was.

She took a look around and noticed she was in some kind of basement. A single dying light bulb illuminated the room, touching all the bodies. Only after a moment she realized they were the other kids from the party. She tried to scream and that’s when she noticed the cloth gag in her mouth. When she tried to turn around, she realized they had tied her hands with rope. She wanted to get up but every time she tried to, another body bumped against her, probably trying the same thing, concluding in both of them falling to the hard floor.

A loud boom startled everyone. Jackie turned around on her butt to the direction of the noise: a big metal door –which appeared to be the only exit in the room, has opened, and two men in long cloaks came in. They were dragging a girl by the hair, and with a single look Jackie knew who she was. They threw Not-Sam on the floor, next to her. She was unconscious, but she still moved in dreams.

Now that she was not busy running for her life, Jackie examined the men with detail. They wore long gold and black cloaks and a golden mask that, come to think of it, seemed to represent animals. It was as if someone described, to a crazy blind artist, how animals were supposed to look and ordered him to make them into masks.

Both men leaned heavily against the wall, at each side of the iron door.

“Man, I am completely worn out,” said one of them, who wore a mask of a two-headed cat, “this urchin made me chase her for half an hour. Finally caught her in the bathroom. Meanwhile, you were who-knows-where, scratching your b-“

“Hey, I was busy,” said the other one. He was wearing an ape mask.

Cat turned his head to stare at his partner. “Oh, you were busy uh? What were you doing?”

Ape made confusing hand gestures. “I was supervising you.”

“Oh! You were supervising me!”

“Yep.”

“You were supervising me from far away, without actually looking at me.”

“…yep.”

Cat crossed his arms and looked away, like an offended child. “Well, I hope I did a stupendous job."

Ape took a moment to get a cigarette out of his cloak. He must have had a hole where his mouth was, because he didn’t have trouble smoking with the mask on.

“Oh yeah, you were amazing,” said Ape, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “you gonna be Cultist of the Month, you’ll see.”

Cat buffed, and Jackie could have swear he saw him rolling his eyes.

They were quiet after that. Jackie didn’t even bothered to scream, because they seemed impervious to the cries of the other kids. Every time one of the prisoners got up, Cat and Ape yelled at them to 'get on the floor or else!' She didn't wanted to know what 'else' was.

“Cursed teens, I hate them,” said Cat after a while, “They smell like sweat and cheap soap.”

Ape nodded. “If you think its crowded in here, don’t go to the south room. It’s busting.”

Jackie tilted her head when she heard that.

"Why do we want all these punks anyway?” asked Cat.

“For the ritual,” said Ape, “the reason why we are here. Remember?”

Cat scanned the room. “Isn't this, like, overkill? Half the town's children must be here."

“Yeah well… We’ll probably use just the ones here, and save the other in case it fails.”

Cat nodded, and went back to lean against the wall. Then he jumped, as if someone had pinched his butt. “If what fails?”

“The ritual.”

Cat got in front of his partner. “It can fail?!”

Ape scratched the side of his face… Mask. He scratched the side of his mask.

“This isn’t mathematics, you know? It’s not exact. And what if it doesn't work up at first? We have a whole room of kids to try again. And well, if everything goes to Hell we just… “ He made a weird hand motion that Jackie interpreted as 'leave' “You got it? Chill out.”

Cat nodded, and returned to his place against the wall.

So they got the rest of the party guests in another room, thought Jackie. She got an answer, but about a thousand more questions. Especially concerning that 'ritual'. She had no idea what it was, but she knew she didn't want to be here to find it out.

Before she could do anything, however, there was a noise like a supermarket speaker. A gruff voice resonated everywhere at once:

“Brothers and sisters. It is time for our reward. Bring forth the Cattle!”

Ape and Cat became soldiers upon hearing this.

“It’s Showtime,” Ape threw his cigarette on the floor.

The door opened with a blast, and more masked men came in, one after another, filling the already bursting room. They surrounded the kids, pushing and dragging them until they made a line in front of the door, of which Jackie was the lead. The men guided them through narrow hallways made of hard concrete floor and brick walls, lighted only by flickering light bulbs. Ape was at front, giving orders, and Cat was behind him with a muscular guard at his side. Behind them was Jackie, and behind her, Not-Sam, who had been forcefully awaken. The crowded corridor was full of the crying of the hostages and the angry screams of the men, giving orders of 'shut up!' and 'move faster!'

They walked for what seemed like hours, until they reached an immense circular room, lightened by dozens of torches. In the center there were five men, dressed in tunics with intricate designs that were hard to make out. They were standing in what looked like a circle full of strange drawings. On the outside of this circle, there were even more masked men, dressed in regular cloaks, all armed with swords.

“Place them in the Holy Circle. Assume your positions, everyone”, said one of the men in the center, who was wearing a mask of a laughing person. Jackie recognized him: it was the one that knocked her senseless! And the voice of the speakers. He must be the one 'running the show'.

There were screams and protests as the men dragged everyone around the circle. Jackie was lost at what to do. Scared of making a misstep, she let herself be and waited for… Anything. Any signal of what she should do. Or at least for her heart to stop fricking pounding in her chest so she could think!

A particularly loud yell was heard when a boy broke free and ran to the exit, leaving his captors behind. Jackie took that as the signal and tried to follow him, only to be held in place by someone behind her. She prayed that the boy would make it. He could escape and get help!

He made a run to the exit, only to be intercepted by two guards when he had reached the door. They lifted him by the shoulders as if he were weightless. They threw him into the ground and brutally kicked him. Jackie kept her eyes on the floor the whole time. When they were done with the boy, they threw him in the center of the circle. His face was now an unrecognizable red lump, and he was spitting blood from his mouth. Jackie almost threw up at the sight.

The men didn't' look moved with what just happened. They walked with rehearsed steps, guiding all the kids around the circle on the floor. Jackie was at the edge of her rationality. Everywhere she looked she saw an armed guard, a kid crying or being beat up; all around all she heard was the mocking laughter of their captors. She soon gave in to the panic and joined the chorus of heartbreaking screams.

“Silence!” shouted the Leader. The other four men had leaved the circle, but he stayed inside.

“Today is the day, my brothers,” he proceeded. “Today, the sacrifices we made will be returned, and we shall receive our reward!”

All of his subordinates shouted and cheered.

The leader raised his hands, in a priest like gesture. “Today, we will dominate powers that mortal men can only dream about!”

They cheered even more, getting ecstatic.

The Leader made a pause and scanned the faces of everyone in the room. “But for that to happen, more sacrifices are demanded. Not just the sacrifices made by others, but by us too. We must let go of our inhibitions, our moral chains, and reach for the future.”

He put his hand on the shoulder of the boy, who could barely raise his head.

“Fear not children,” he said, this time talking to him, and to the other kids. To Jackie. He almost sounded like a understanding father. “Know that you will be part of something greater. Blood is power, my children. And yours will be spilled for a greater purpose! You shall rejoice! Destiny waits for us all!”

The crowd erupted both in blissful screams and in deafening crying, depending on what side of the circle they were in.

The man behind Jackie moved uneasy. “Bah! That’ so fake,” Jackie recognized his voice as Cat's, “when i was a car salesman, my boss did speeches like that all the time… With less religion in them, but same style.”

Jackie wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or to himself, but that sparked a tiny hope in her.

“Let me go!” she shouted, or tried to. The gag in her mouth muffling every sound she made. “Help me, please! He is insane!” Cat shook his head and tightened his grip around Jackie.

“Commence the chants!” shouted the Leader.

“Begin the sacrifices!” The room exploded in crying when the Leader produced a sword with his free hand and stabbed the boy. He went still on the floor, his blood spilling on the chalk circle. But the chalk was not erased; instead, it served as a pattern for the blood to flow around.

One by one, all the kids felt, their corpses pilling on the floor; their blood adding to the circle. The ones who were watching the scene struggled in vain, and eventually they went silent too. Soon it was Jackie's turn.

“I am sorry kid,” said Cat, with a quiver in his voice that he didn’t have before. “It’s over.”

Jackie felt the tip of the blade on her lower back. She closed her eyes; a cold acceptance overcoming her fear.

“Enough!” shouted the leader.

The chants stopped. The blade receded. Both Jackie and Cat sighed, for completely different reasons. She was safe, as were the other ten kids after her, including Not-Sam. For now.

The circle on the floor, now colored with a repulsive red, has began to cast a ring of light that reached the ceiling. Just like nothing has happened, the leader emerges from the circle; his staff now shining a golden light that made Jackie felt sick.

“The time has come, brother and sisters.”

When the Leader spoke again it was not with words, but rather with static-like sound that could almost be seen, and threatened to melt your brain. The flames from the torches danced and grew in size, and finally they went off with a bang. The light of the circle casted red shadows on the faces of the kids and the men alike, while the staff’s light was reflected on the Leader’s mask. Nobody dared to speak. Then a blinding flare illuminated the room. A pillar of fire erupted in the center of the circle. It faded out quickly, and in its place appeared what took Jackie a few seconds to recognize.

It was a bathtub. A bathtub has just appeared in the middle of the room.

To make things worse, there was someone inside! His body was covered by the curtain, but his silhouette was seen taking a shower with no cares in the world. And he was singing.

“Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!” his voice was masculine and deep, if a little out of tone.

For a moment, Jackie wondered if maybe someone had spiked the punch, and now she was actually laying unconscious on the backyard floor, hallucinating like crazy, with the paramedics on their way.

“What the fuck…” said Cat, who was probably thinking the same thing.

The guy stopped singing. He closed the shower that somehow was still throwing water. The curtain was moved, to reveal a teenage boy with violet skin, three eyes, and big horns. And he was in his birthday suit. He screamed, as did all of the kids and men present, Jackie and Cat included.

“What in the Void’s name is going on here?!” he yelled. “Who the hell are you-“

He laid his eyes on the leader and grimaced.

“You again Sage?! That’s it! This is the last time you do this to me! You will pay! And the rest of you…“he looked around the room, his burning gaze making grown men recoil like scared bunnies; “You bought all the tickets. You gonna see what’s good!”

After that he disappeared in a flash of fire, bathtub and everything. The fire from the torches started to reignite, as if the lights were back after a blackout. A brutal silence invaded the room.

“Uh…” said indecisive one of the men in fancy tunics, “Was-was that supposed to happen?”

“Oh yes, he always take a shower at this hour,” said the leader, the so-called Sage.

The room turned into a movie theater, with the men whispering to each other, asking 'When does the show start?' Jackie, on the other hand, clung to the hope that this all was nothing but nightmare. Everyone jumped when another pillar of fire erupted, and the boy came out of the flames, now fully dressed.

“Now you will see what you get,” said the demon boy, taking a few steps towards Sage, “You think it’s funny to be summoned when you are on your own business? You think it’s-“

He stepped on blood. When he looked down, he found the lifeless gaze of the first victim. The demon boy's eyes turned into volcanoes.

“How. Dare. You.” he said with a trembling voice. When he spoke again, it was as if he were a thousand people in one.

“How dare you!" the fire from the torches exploded, as did his eyes. "Is your life so worthless that you need to-to… Kill other people in my name?!” he talked through grinned teeth; his anger was palpable around the room. “Well, you won’t do this ever again!”

The demon immolated itself, throwing fire above and around him like fireworks, turning the room into an oven. He elevates himself into the air, as if his own rage was controlling him now. His rabid screams echoed inside Jackie’s mind, inside everyone’s brain. He was tearing them apart from the inside! The men stayed in their places, shaking but paralyzed by fear. Sage however, exuded an aura of calmness that was unsettling.

“Any last words you want to babble?” shouted the demon, breaking the air with the clarity of his voice.

“A clarification, actually,” said Sage, unfazed, “You see, these sacrifices are not for you, Master Lucitor.”

With this said he raised his staff in the air and then lets it fall on the ground, inside the circle. A storm was released: thunder, lightning and howling wind. Jackie stared with horror how the electricity brought life to the still-warm blood, raising it to the ceiling in the form of tendrils. Before the demon boy realized what was happening, a thin blood thread tangled itself around his arm. He tried to pull it away, but a second one was added, and then another and another, and soon enough he was turned into a marionette. The electricity from the staff flowed through the blood tendrils, directly to his body. His howls of pain made the fire from the torches burn brighter and explode, releasing fire balls that held on to anything they could find. Including the cloaks of the men around. The victims of the fire tried to strip themselves out of their robes, roll on the floor, anything to save them from turning into ashes.

Sage and the other men in tunics yelled orders around, trying to regain control; but it was all lost when a fire ball landed on one of them, consuming him in flames before anyone could act. That was it: the status quo was broken and chaos took over.

This awoke something inside Jackie, a little thing called “logical thinking”, which has been drowning in panic as soon as three seconds ago.

She reached two conclusions: First, that somehow, the demon boy that was three meters in the air howling in pain looked familiar to her.

And second, that she needed escape. RIGHT NOW.

She used the chaos in her favor, and when Cat was distracted she elbowed him in the ribs. When he hunched over in pain, Jackie got free from his grasp. She had to thank her dad for the self-defense lessons as soon as she gets out. She saw the other kids had the same idea and were now freeing themselves from their captors and were running away while the captors chased them. It was like a perverse game of cat and mouse.

And speaking of which, Cat recovered his poise and was running to Jackie, yelling at her to 'stay quiet' She had no intention of following that order. She ran away, blindly at first, but when she saw the door she went for it. It was just like what happened at the party: she was escaping, moving like a snake, evading any person or pillar of fire that stood on her way. And just like before, she was stopped when she reached the exit.

“Gotcha!” said Cat when he laid his hands on her, “You better not-AHH!“

He squealed in pain and felt on the floor. Right in front of Jackie was Not-Sam, looking like a bloody and dirty angel.

I really need to ask this girl her name, Jackie thought.

She tilted her head to the door and Not-Sam nodded. They bashed the wooden door with all their strength until it gave in and opened up, showing a dark hallway. Jackie gets out first, but when she looked back she saw Not-Sam being held by two guards. Panic threatened to take over Jackie once again. She couldn’t leave Not-Sam there, in that literal Hell! She made a step inside, but when a guard cut her road, she was paralyzed. All the mad courage that had possessed her seemed to evaporate in a second. Her heart was telling her, 'get inside there, you can help them!'. And her brain replied 'no, you cant'.

Jackie turned around and ran. She ignored the screams of pain of the boy, the sound of blazing flames, all the literal Hell that was behind her, and she ran into the darkness.

#svtfoe #jackie lynn thomas #tom lucitor #star vs the forces of evil #fanfic #my fics

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nightcoremoon · 6 years

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theological conspiracy theory time

this is assuming that judeochristianity in the eyes of a post-baptist post-evangelical non-catholic non-unitarian modernist-methodist is true so I want jews and muslims to not jump on me because I don't know the first thing about the torah and quran and I want atheists and the "I'm not religious I'm spiritual" types to shut the fuck up for five seconds. please note that I'm a christopaganic unitarian with splashes of native american, buddhist, shinto, & luciferian belief. in fact, this might actually be the basis of some strained of luciferianism but I digress, let's go.

okay so we know that absolute power corrupts absolutely as lord john acton so eloquently put it a few hundred years ago, and writers like george orwell popularized a few decades ago. that much is true. we've all seen it happen. we also know the basics of god & satan, and how they were friends until satan betrayed god and became a fallen angel and blah blah blah ruler of hell blah blah blah appropriating shit from pan the satyr, hades and the underworld, oh yeah and dante aligheri's the divine comedy. [hot damn do christians steal a lot of shit] we also know all the things the bible allegedly call sins, how much of a EGOTISTICAL FUCKING ASSHOLE he was in the old testament, and of course the basics of christian dogma. with that in mind, let's now continue.

what if:

god in the old testament really was an asshole who hated women, the poor, the disabled, and minorities, a bully with a magnifying glass who burns ants for fun, who created this universe out of some sick perverted fantasy to make a race of people and fuck with them, torturing them for his sadistic pleasure. the angels he made to keep things running smoothly in place. they were fucking nightmarish monsters with faces entirely comprised of each component of a chimera, or 30 intersecting gyroscopic rings, or babies covered in pus-filled boils and other weird shit like that. what if he's cthulhu levels of evil and lucifer was like "uh hey god maybe you should quit being an evil motherfucker to these people" and god was just like "fuck you" because as the ultimately powerful being in the observable universe he could very well be the most evil entity as well? after all, we humans were allegedly made in his image and if we're all a bunch of evil assholes who murder and lie to and rape and oppress each other... plus if god made satan and god is infallible and makes no mistakes, that's kind of paradoxical. and in this hypothetical situation (as it is purely 100% hypothetical and does not accurately reflect my full beliefs), satan left god not because he was evil, but because he rejected the evil instead.

expanding on this theory, we all know the dumb religious bullshit being spouted today. gays and trans people will go to hell, people who commit suicide will go to hell, people who don't accept jesus as their savior will go to hell, people who have premarital sex will go to hell, people who don't give enough money to the church will go to hell, women who so much as sneeze inside a church when they aren't given permission to do so will go to hell, yadda yadda yadda. basically hell will be full of people who don't deserve to be there. what if that's true? what if all of the people who can't make it into heaven's narrow field of acceptance do go somewhere else, to the realm of satan... but that's not a bad thing?

what if hell is a pretty cool place that satan made because, like, if god doesn't want the souls of the flesh heaps who didn't become mindless salivating slave golems who just sit and pray for 25 hours a day when they aren't too busy protesting soldier funerals and pride parades, satan could be like. "don't worry, my child, I'll take care of you. I'll take you with me. I'll love you. and if you come over here you'll see that there's plenty of others who are just like you." he'll walk through the afterlife and comb through the ones left behind and denied entrance to heaven and so doomed to walk the land of purgatory for eternity. all of the people born in countries not touched by the plague of missionaries and so would never have even had the opportunity to know god or jesus, all of the children who died tragically before they could be baptized, all of the women who were raped at six years old and abandoned by their family because she was no longer a virgin ready to be sold to a lecherous old bastard for a tidy dowry, all of the non-cishets, everybody who pundits declare unfit for joining their personal heaven, all embraced and accepted and redeemed in the eyes of lucifer.

what if satan quite literally faces god and walks backwards into hell with middle fingers in the air, taking the souls of those god rejects with him? if we turn around and also analyze many demons we see they're really not evil for any reason other than "because they're demons and god says that's evil". prince stolas the owl is just a dude who likes rocks, plants, and stars. meanwhile azrael the angel of death, made up of eyes and tongues and steals the souls of humans god commands him to take? THAT SOUNDS REEEEEALLY FUCKED UP MY DUDE. we know that angels and demons are both counted in legions, let's take this further and suggest that there's a war.

what if god wants to kill satan and then come in and destroy the souls of those he created but no longer wished to exist any more, purging them from existence, a fate an eternity worse than death. what if satan gathers up demons to PROTECT us? what if satan is the last bastion of protection from the greatest evil conceivable by man, the lone rebel against corruption, our true savior? god painting satan as evil through propaganda and lies would make perfect sense to destabilize his power on earth, making shit up as he goes along, generating people or even having angels masquerade as humans to cause things like goat skulls and dead baby fetuses to be associated with him, using fearmomgering to turn more and more people to the side of god rather than that of satan, and utilizing the ultimate form of propaganda, sending a piece of his own soul down pretending to be his son, going through the rigamarole of cricificion to, forgive the phrase, hammer in the final nail? what if jesus was a lie, a farce, used merely to turn yet more potential troops to his side away from satan's glowing, loving embrace?

what if god truly does hate those of us who refuse to conform to the hive mind mentality, and damns us to hell, not realizing that it's the best thing he could possibly do for us? putting all of the "sinners" together under one roof, oh yes, a lot of thought went into that plan.

but I digress.

that's merely what could be truthful. no doubt the theory is so full of holes it could pass as a religion under the moniker of Swisscheeseium because I am no expert on judeochristian faith. but i think it certainly seems like a cool concept to explore in the realms of fiction. definitely not something I'll devote my time to worshipping, however.

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kaoruyogi · 6 years

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How to Win Wars and Influence Nobles (Ch. 25)

Rating: E for Explicit/NSFW Content!

Check it out on AO3!

You’d think a video game lawyer could just drop into a pseudo-medieval universe filled with magic and demons and be totally okay with it, right?

Nah.

In the wake of her brother, Spencer’s, disappearance, Belle dropped into Thedas with luggage, but without a clue. After a brief but memorable panic attack, she resolved to be the best goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. Even if she was the only goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. And even if that obstinate asshole, Cullen, wouldn’t stop giving her the side-eye every time she walked into a room…Or every time he walked into a room with her in it…Or every time they walked into a room together…Or–Fuck it. You get it.

Chapter 25: What the Fuck Now?

Cullen’s newness to the world was like a second infancy. It was adorable and impatient, sweet and frustrating. He had questions about everything in their first month of living in Orange County. He asked Belle some questions she didn’t have answers to, and he asked her some questions that didn’t really have answers. The fecundity of his imagination was boundless. It was impressive, and it was exhausting.

She showed him how to use the internet on her laptop early on. She watched him do what she had done when she first got to Thedas. Research. He clicked and clicked and clicked, treading dozens of varied informational pathways a day, drinking up knowledge like a man in an oasis surrounded by a million miles of desert in every direction. She supposed he was a man lost in the desert, really. In the back of her mind, she worried he would reach the point of knowing more about the world than she did.

Cullen began by educating himself on the topics that interested him the most. He started with war. The long-documented history of tens of thousands of battles took his pouring over for nearly a week. Faster than Belle could have consumed all that information. At one point, however, the geographical proportions of the world popped onto the screen alongside the current global population. The size of Earth and the amount of people on it put him in a state for two hours. His brow furrowed and unfurrowed, and he paced around their suite’s living room trying to reason it out.

“These numbers cannot possibly be correct. How can there be that many people in this world? Nearly eight billion?” he said, distracting Belle from her neglected Tumblr feed for the fifth time since his pacing began.

She let her wrist go limp as she flicked her attention to him, knocking her phone into her bare ankle. She groaned, and half sighed her reply. “Dude, I dunno. A combination of the spread of mass religious beliefs that advocate copious reproduction, improvements in medical science to stop people from dying from literally everything, and really shitty birth control methodologies up until the past couple decades. You could have Googled that.”

Cullen glowered down at her. “I apologize that it is not yet my first instinct to beg answers to my questions from a machine.” His tone was razor sharp.

Belle set her jaw hard. So did Cullen. Several brutal seconds into their tiny standoff, she relented. She shut her eyes and inhaled. The cool, conditioned air buzzed in through her nose and blew out through her pursed lips. When she opened her eyes, much of Cullen’s ire had melted into a complicated kind of remorse.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“So am I.” He brushed his hand across her shoulder before returning to whatever dark corner of the internet he’d found in his endless clicking. A passing gesture of love stretched thin by proximity and inactivity.

Cullen’s click-click-clicking lead him next to history. He told Belle he intended to focus on the history of her nation, but she suspected, after seeing images of several very steepley, thousand-year-old-looking churches splashed across her 4K laptop screen, that he had wandered well past the United States. Those same steepley, thousand-year-old-looking churches dragged him into religion. She knew he’d discovered the sordid and bloody history of Judaism when, following a dispersion of disgusted grunts, he sat on the couch beside her and swept her into his arms. He clutched her tight, wondering aloud how her people seemed so happy after all they went through. She thought to bring up the elves, but decided against it when he buried his nose in her hair.

Religion lead back to war, as it so often did. Belle watched as Cullen found himself at a loss for what to read. He thought he’d exhausted the contents of the entire internet. She pressed her lips together to bite back a giggle at the sight of his mild distress. But the next day’s malaise, coupled with a rapid response by hotel security to his courtyard palm-tree-dummy training session, brought him back up to their room with questions about physical maintenance. He asked Belle first. She put a hand on her soft gut and reminded him that she was the last person he should be asking about exercise. She ate another Cheeto, and he took to the internet once more. When she woke the following morning, she found him with a towel draped over his shoulder preparing to shower after lifting weights and jogging in the hotel gym while she slept. He was settling in alright, she reckoned.

Eisiminger called them to his office after two weeks of radio silence. He told them that there was no record of any radical group calling themselves “the Inquisition” in any database in any country. Belle said that of course there wasn’t. Why would there be? What kind of sense would that make? She spouted off about shell corporations and airspace rights and that movie, “The Village,” and Eisiminger leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. She didn’t have to feign her anger when she told him that what she and Cullen experienced was real. It was real, and it was painful. The bit about the pain was no lie, either. The anguish of being ripped away from the people she’d grown to call family, not to mention her actual brother, clawed and gnawed at her with incessant persistence. Cullen corroborated her every word.

When she ran out of steam and all she could do was sit and seethe, Eisiminger apologized. He didn’t apologize for his occasionally suspicious glances or his sporadically accusatory tone. She didn’t expect him to apologize for that. That was behavior she would hope for in a detective, had she presented him a real crime to solve. Instead, he apologized for the lack of progress on her case. He told her that, with no leads and nothing more on which to follow up, he was going to have to put her case in the “inactive” file. She put on a dramatic show of anger to hide her relief, tearing up and scowling, demanding something more be done. Eisiminger apologized again, and Cullen put on his own dramatic show of comforting her. Eisiminger went on to recommend that Cullen apply for a U-visa if he planned on remaining in the country, and handed him a form. Belle knew full well that the single form was insufficient, and said as much before she and Cullen stormed out of the Homicide Bureau’s offices. She wept real tears when they got into her little blue car.

On the third week, Belle sent her parents home to Washington. They protested for hours before and during dinner at the little Italian restaurant in Downtown Brea that was always too busy. Cullen sat at the outer edge of the booth and faced the door while they ate and argued, still hypervigilant, still nervous. Belle was too, if she was honest. They both jumped when someone dropped a plate. He reached for his absent sword. Everyone cheered at the waiter. Belle’s hand trembled until Cullen took it in his under the table. Her father narrowed his eyes at her in a silent question, and she answered him with a near imperceptible shake of her head.

Not long after, he capitulated. He caved first, as she suspected he might. He tried to bring Ilana around by reminding her that they should probably get ready for Belle and Cullen to move north, because Belle was a shoo-in for that job at Microsoft, of course. Fear and discomfort passed over Ilana’s face for a moment. She said something in a voice so soft that the discordant eaters around them drowned it before it could reach Belle’s ears.

Belle’s father nodded, and Ilana swayed with the cadence of his hand running up and down her back. “We’re only a few hours away if he comes back.”

Ilana’s eyes went watery, but she nodded too. Belle and Cullen shared a communicative glance. It was time to tell her parents why Spencer wasn’t there, why she and Cullen were so jumpy, why he needed a U-visa.

She sat her parents on the sofa in their suite after dinner. Unwelcome news was always taken best when surrounded by the comfort of one’s own belongings. Cullen sat in the chair next to Ilana, and Belle stood. She was accustomed to making presentations, and standing gave her a feeling of control over what was about to happen.

“I’m going to start telling you what I have to tell you in a second,” she said. “But first, I need to know that both of you know I’m not crazy. I’ve never exhibited signs of any mental illness that would alter my perceptions of reality, right?”

“Right,” said her father.

“Of course not,” said Ilana.

“Okay. Dad, you’re an engineer, and I know you’re not that kind of engineer, but what do you know about wormholes?”

He cocked his head. “Not a whole lot. The bit with the hole in the folded piece of paper is about it.”

Belle let out an irked little noise. She paced in front of the lifeless black television. Two steps left, two steps right. “So—and again, I swear I’m not crazy—what I told the police—what I told you—is about half true. Spencer and I were in a place called Thedas, and Cullen really does come from there, but—” The words caught in her throat, causing a strangled squeak. “Thedas isn’t anywhere on Earth.”

“What?” said Ilana.

“It sounds insane. It sounds one hundred percent batshit cuckoo coco-nuts, I know. But I was waiting for an Uber outside my apartment to take me to the airport, and this green hole thing that I can only assume was a wormhole or something like that just appeared on the sidewalk and sucked me up. Just sucked me and my bags right up.” Belle pantomimed with her hand, flicking her wrist and closing her splayed fingers. “And when I woke up, I was someplace else. The geography of the land was different than here, and the seasons were different from here, and I didn’t just stay in one place while I was there. We,” she said as she gestured between herself and Cullen, “rode halfway across the continent on horseback and in carriages. We would have hit some modern civilization by then, right? Then, one random day, another wormhole thing just poofed into existence in front of me and Cullen and ate us both.”

“Wormholes?” said Ilana. The blankness in her tone welled up anxiety in Belle’s chest. Her flowy T-shirt felt three sizes too small.

“Yeah. Wormholes. That’s why Spencer isn’t here, why he didn’t come back too. They were just these blips. Opened and closed.”

“My confirmation of what she says cannot mean much to you, such as things are,” said Cullen, “but everything she says is true. In Thedas, we call these wormholes ‘rifts.’ Spencer fell out of a rift about three months before Belle did, but that’s how both of them arrived in Thedas. And it’s how Belle and I were taken from Thedas to arrive here.”

Belle’s father cleaved the long silence that followed before it grew too great to bear. “So Spencer…” He stopped, searching for the words, searching for the question to which he might even begin to put words.

“Spencer’s alive and well. He’s actually pretty happy there. He met someone.”

“My sister, Rosalie.”

Ilana wore confused horror like a mask over her usually happy face. Belle’s father opened and closed his mouth like a fish drowning in air. She hadn’t planned this, she realized. Hadn’t done it right. Predict, prepare, preempt. She forgot to follow her mantra, and now she was ruining her parents’ lives. They were sitting in front of her trying to figure out if they should commit her. Slap her in the loony bin with the rest of the crazies. Deport Cullen to nowhere or hold him in ICE lockup on indefinite detention because they would never, ever figure out his country of origin.

Belle stood in the prison of her anxiety, spinning out into oblivion. Then her father asked, “Why you?”

“Huh?”

“Why you? And why Spencer? I mean, I love you, and don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but neither of you are that special.”

Belle laughed. It was a delirious thing, and it burst out of her without warning. She wasn’t helping the case for her sanity. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “No one there knew either. And it’s not like I can run around asking proper astrophysicists why without sounding bananas crazy.”

“Okay,” said Ilana. “I believe you.” Determination had replaced the mask of confused horror. Determination and certainty.

“Me too,” said Belle’s father.

“Really?” said Belle.

“Yeah. And, honestly, it’s more plausible than human trafficking.”

“Why?”

“You really think you, of all people, would get kidnapped and escape and come back here without telling every single person you talked to some crazy story about how you punched at least one guy in the face?”

“Or stabbed one to death,” said Belle.

Her father gave her the side eye. “Or stabbed one to death.”

Her parents flew back to Washington two days later.

Four weeks after Belle and Cullen’s unceremonious landing in Orange County, she had her Skype interview with the council of counselors for Microsoft. Vic’s friend, Josh, sat between two women, and across from one woman and one man. They were friendly, and they asked her all the questions Josh told her they would ask when she’d spoken to him on the phone three weeks earlier. She felt as prepared as she could have been, having spent a year without any technology just before interviewing for one of the largest tech companies in the world. She offered a few quips, and the council of counselors laughed just the right amount.

Cullen sat on the sofa two feet away and watched the entire process. After almost an hour and forty-five minutes of back and forth, the council of counselors muted their end of the conversation to deliberate. Belle watched their mouths move, but they were too far from the camera, their mannerisms too subdued for her to make out what any of them said. She reached for Cullen’s hand out of view of her webcam. The warmth of his calluses on her palm and her fingertips reminded her that she had been battle-hardened. She had been through so much worse than waiting for a few lawyers to decide whether she was skilled enough to work for them. She had been stabbed, for Christ’s sake. Twice.

The council of counselors unmuted their microphone, and Alicia, the woman sitting across the conference table from Josh, told Belle that Josh and the other two women were going to be stepping out for the duration of the conversation. Belle said her farewells, and Josh winked toward the camera on his way through the metal doorframe.

When the door to the conference room closed, Alicia folded her hands in front of her and smiled. “Okay, so let’s talk relo expenses. If you have a down payment, we’d like to help you with moving costs and closing.”

Less than half an hour later, Belle was e-signing an employment contract. She started sobbing halfway through the at-will provisions, and Cullen took her up in his embrace. She clung to his powerful forearms as they wreathed around her neck and shoulders. His galvanizing presence reminded her how lucky she was to have him. She loved him so much it was like a stone in her stomach. The certainty that she could provide for them was an indispensable boon, a small but sturdy umbrella in the torrent of fucked up shit raining down on them every day.

But their relationship wasn’t all peaches and light. As time passed, as Belle wrapped up the task of un-disappearing, as she met with everyone she needed to meet, and as she waited for her parents’ video tours of prospective houses, she and Cullen began to go stir crazy. They played a dangerous waiting game that threatened to rend them from one another by exposure. Between them, they managed no more than an hour or so apart each day. He had his burgeoning workout routine, and she had the odd friend with whom to eat lunch and avoid chatting about her disappearance. The other twenty-three hours of the day, they were locked in their suite, alone, bored, and bickering over tiny annoyances.

Sex helped. It staved off the ennui and frustration, and it tethered them to one another in a way that felt natural, unforced. It was also almost the only exercise Belle got in the absence of her daily need to walk up and down five thousand flights of stairs.

During their refractory periods, or their post-argument periods, or really any period not occupied by a solid fuck or something solidly fucked, they watched movies and TV shows and listened to music. Cullen had over thirty years of catching up to do on the media that helped form Belle’s personality, and she was more than happy to use it as an excuse to ease the occasional tension. They situated themselves on the couch, her ankles always crossed over his thighs, and dug into their respective snacks—that douchenozzle nibbled on apples and strawberries while she stuffed her face with Doritos and chocolate—before she hit play.

Cullen’s opinions, as in most cases, formed quickly. He liked John Wayne. He disliked Alfred Hitchcock. He said he thought RomComs were feckless, but Belle caught the worry on his face when it seemed like the main characters wouldn’t end up together. He scoffed when she pointed out that he practically was Mr. Darcy. She laughed so hard when he and Matthew Macfayden made the exact same sound in unison that she had to pause the movie with Keira Knightley’s eyes half closed. Cullen conceded.

When it came to music, he surprised her. He favored classical and neo-classical composers, which she anticipated. He grimaced at most EDM, though he tolerated ambient electronica, and he slammed her laptop shut when she started playing her favorite death metal track, which was to be expected. But he asked her to play more of her indie and alternative music, like Ray LaMontagne and Feist and Fleet Foxes, he loved the blues, and he latched onto jazz singers like Billie Holiday. Belle should have known that he would be contrary and old fashioned, even in a different world.

She glanced up at him once, a few minutes after telling her realtor to make an offer on a four-bedroom house with granite countertops in the kitchen and a plum tree in the backyard. He sat at the desk in front of her laptop with his chin resting on his fist. “God Bless the Child” emanated from the speakers as his eyes scanned over some half-visible article about the Yukon gold rush. She watched him for a moment. He squinted and craned his neck toward the screen, and he sighed when he returned to his resting position.

As she watched him, for the first time in more than a month, she didn’t think, well, what the fuck now. For the first time in more than a month, she thought that maybe their lives weren’t ruined. For the first time in more than a month, she thought there might be a future for them that didn’t exist in the past.

He smiled when he caught her staring.

*****

“Just breathe.”

“I am breathing.”

“Yeah, but do it slower.”

Cullen glowered. “Was there no other way to get to Washington?”

“I am not driving for nineteen and a half hours in a rental car. Maybe someday, in our own car, for fun and shit, but I’m not doing it just to move.”

Boong, boong. Flight attendants, please prepare for takeoff.

Cullen jumped at the announcement and squeezed Belle’s hand so tight her fingers began to tingle. His other hand clutched the armrest near the open window. The too-close Orange County morning sun glared rabid on the tarmac outside the thick plexiglass. She wondered if he knew how much she had to love him to give him the window seat.

“Do you need a Valium?” said the leathery woman in the aisle seat. “Or a Xanax? I’ve got both.”

Belle smiled her sweet, phony smile. “Nooo, thaaanks,” she said in the way only someone from Southern California could say it. “He’ll be okay. It’s just his first time flying.”

“This is unnatural,” said Cullen through his teeth.

The leathery woman giggled and reached across Belle’s lap to touch Cullen’s thigh. Belle made an ugly face in her shock and repugnance. The goddamn nerve of some fucking people.

“It’s science, honey. Perfectly natural.”

Belle cleared her throat and nudged the woman’s arm. They shared another phony smile as the leathery woman withdrew to her own space. She set about the task of ignoring everyone around her by putting in earbuds and starting “BIG” on the little screen stuck to the seat in front of her.

Belle shook her head, turning her attention back to her terrified…boyfriend still didn’t sound right. Cullen stared out the small window. The jets on the wings just behind them whirred to raucous life. She couldn’t feel her fingertips anymore. “Do you want to close the window?”

“What?”

“Do you want to see everything, or do you want to close the window?”

“I want,” he said between shallow breaths. “I want to see.”

“Okay.”

Everything began to rattle as the Airbus lurched down the runway. Cullen’s chest heaved. He had to be getting dizzy. The plane sped up until everything outside became a blur of soiled beige and shiny black. He gasped when the aircraft lifted off the ground, and the rattling all around them stopped. Her fingertips started to burn.

He leaned his forehead against the mottled plastic window frame and watched the ground recede. His breathing slowed amid the awe that spread over his face. His mouth hung open, and his grip on Belle’s fingers loosened. The pins and needles set in as the blood poured back into her digits. The plane flew west on its takeoff flightpath, and the wide blue expanse of the Pacific Ocean stretched out beneath them. Cullen looked out ahead, and said, “I have never seen so much.”

“So much what?” asked Belle.

“Everything.”

For the whole hour of their flight, he stared out that window and held Belle’s hand. She watched him watch the deserts fade into mountains, and the mountains blossom into forests. “You were right,” he said when the Pacific Northwest clouds shrouded the earth.

“About?”

“The clouds. It’s like a sea of cotton. And I have never seen sky so blue.”

When they began their descent, Cullen watched the rain part around the wing behind them. Belle explained that they were going so fast they cut through the air and the rain. She helped him pop his ears as the earth came into view once more in shades of gray, blue, and green. She endured the pins and needles in her fingers a second time when they went wheels down.

SeaTac was a much larger airport than the local one from which they’d departed. The volume of people was larger too. Belle rushed them through the terminals to avoid allowing Cullen enough time to become overwhelmed by the crowd. Once they reached the baggage claim, he scowled at the chute until their luggage appeared, both bags flipping end over end. He lifted them off the conveyor belt with enviable ease. Belle saw a few people watch him do it, and watch him for a little too long thereafter.

She had to stop him when he tried to unzip his bag to check on his sword and armor—he wouldn’t let her ship it ahead. It had been difficult enough explaining the blade and plate to TSA when they checked in. They didn’t need to be detained on their way out.

It was raining when they exited the terminal. Belle suppressed a grin at Cullen’s tentative mastery of sliding glass doors. He put his hand out from under the awning to feel the rain on his skin, and he looked at her with a kind of satisfaction. “Rain is the same everywhere,” he said.

She smiled. “Did you think it was going to come up from the ground?” He shook his head and kissed her forehead.

Her father picked them up in his green SUV a few minutes later. He told them he would have been there faster if anyone knew how to drive in this fucking airport. Belle let Cullen ride shotgun to avoid his carsickness.

“So, Cullen, how was your first flight?”

“Harrowing.”

“Ha,” said Belle.

They stopped at the car dealership on the way to her parents’ house. Cullen told her he wanted to ride home with her father, and she gave him a dubious look before he closed his door and they went on ahead. She verified the car on the lot was the car she ordered. It was bigger, bluer, and sportier than her last vehicle, which she’d sold in Orange County to make their move easier. She made her down payment, signed the paperwork, and followed a few miles behind her men. By the time she reached her parents’ house, her things had been unloaded from the SUV. She parked in the driveway beside it and went into the house.

“Belle? Is that you?” said Ilana’s voice from the kitchen.

“Nope. Just a murderer, here to do some murderin’. Don’t mind me.” Belle hung her raincoat on the rack near the door. “How many people do you guys give your keys to?”

“Oh, anyone who will take one, really.” Ilana’s voice grew closer as Belle followed it into the kitchen. “Dad just goes to the park sometimes and hands them out to vagrants. You know, in case they feel like robbing us blind or relieving us of our lives while we sleep.”

Belle laughed and hugged her stepmother. “I bet they appreciate that. No one likes a house that’s hard to burglarize. And murder is so much harder when the door’s locked.”

“It’s good to see you, sweetie. How’s your new car?”

“Fast.” An oddly familiar scent filled the warm kitchen and Belle’s nostrils. She sniffed the air. “What are you cooking?”

Ilana beamed. “Well, I did some Googling, and I found some recipes that I thought might make Cullen feel more at home. I decided on roasted mutton, potatoes, and root veggies. It’s weird, but I realized I’ve never cooked a parsnip before.”

Belle’s mouth watered. A year and a half ago, the thought of roasted mutton, potatoes, and root veggies would have sounded okay. Just okay. Never as amazing as it sounded that day. Despite being in her parents’ house, a place that was a second home for so many years, the food in the oven would be the first thing in a long time to give both her and Cullen even a fraction of that kind of comfort.

“Where is he, anyway?”

“Your dad took him into the garage to make sure his sword and armor made it through the flight okay. That’s so weird to say.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

Belle made for the door leading out to the garage. In front of the door, a heap of red Rubbermaid tubs marked “Camping” blocked her view of most of the room. “—t kind of steel is this? A few of the machinists I used to work with would be really into this craftsmanship,” said her father. The soft ping ping of a knuckle rapping against metal punctuated his remarks.

“It’s silverite. Steel armor is ill suited against enchanted weapons or magic. Templars are given silverite armor after completing their initiation. I was used to it, so I commissioned a modified version of that it upon joining the Inquisition.”

Belle rounded the Rubbermaids to see Cullen kneeling on a moving blanket on the floor with his armor spread out piecemeal. Her father sat on a tool bench. He was hunched over with a touch of awe on his face, running his fingers over the Templar insignia on one of Cullen’s bracers. “We don’t have silverite here. I wonder what the chemical composition of this stuff is.”

“Everything all in one piece?” said Belle, drawing their attention away from the armor.

Cullen stood. “It seems to be. It’s difficult to know for certain, but I don’t want to strike it without any way to repair it.”

“It’s pretty cool,” said Belle’s father.

“Did you boys have a nice ride home?”

“Yup. How’s your new car? You want to take me for a ride later? Maybe let me—I don’t know—drive it?” Her father gave her a signature Dolan family shit-eating grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Belle. “God, so desperate.”

Her father stood with a guttural groan. His pain had gotten worse while she was gone. She wished Eudora could have fixed his back too. He patted the spot between her shoulder blades where her tattoo proclaimed, “A Man Chooses,” in strong black ink. She hugged his waist. Cullen watched with a wistful look, a small smirk curling his lips and crinkling his scar.

Belle took her father out in her new car, as promised. They went to an empty school parking lot so he could do slippery donuts on the wet asphalt. They cackled together as the tires squealed and he cranked the steering wheel to the right, then to the left. She had missed him.

During their drive back to the house, she asked him what he and Cullen talked about after they left her at the dealership. He said, “Stuff.”

She struggled not to cry at dinner. Her backward nostalgia hit her like a truck the moment the first forkful hit her tongue. Her eyes burned, and her vision blurred. She could just make out Cullen hoovering the meal like it was his first, or his last. The flavors stoked memories of the early moments of their tenuous friendship, of dinners with Sera and Dorian and Bull, of lunches with Max and Josie and the visiting nobility, of Spencer. She barely maintained the wherewithal to tell Ilana that the food was delicious.

Her dreams were fitful that night. Barbarous and bathed in green. Her friends and her brother died and came back over and over, each death more heinous than the last. She tried to intervene. She screamed, she battled against the weight of her feet, and she called out to them to flee. Not one of them recognized her. Not one of them listened. They just died. Again and again, they died.

She and Cullen went to their new house the next morning. It was sunny. They met the realtor and the escrow agent for their first and final walkthrough before signing the closing documents. Everything was as Belle imagined. The bedrooms were large and clean. The master bathroom had a shower that was separate from the tub. The tan granite countertops in the kitchen gleamed. The plum tree in the backyard clung onto its last few leaves, each one the color of Cullen’s eyes.

Sparks didn’t fly when she signed the closing documents and handed over the cashier’s check. The heavens didn’t open, and the angels didn’t sing. It was all rather anticlimactic for the accomplishment of such a lofty goal. Her pen just scratched across some papers, and a stranger just took tens of thousands of her dollars with little more than a tepid “Congratulations.” He handed her the keys and a copy of the paperwork, and he and the realtor left.

Belle and Cullen stayed behind in the silence of their new home. He’d knocked on and jiggled a few things during their walkthrough, no doubt testing the flimsy modern craftsmanship. What wouldn’t seem flimsy after living in a place as staunch and fortified as Skyhold? But in the new silence, he just stared at the high living room ceiling.

“What do you think of it?” said Belle.

“It is…different.”

“Different than what?”

Cullen shifted on his feet. His movement was silent on the new carpet. “Since I was a boy, I thought I would live and die in a Circle or a Chantry House. That was the only way a Templar could honorably leave the Order. After joining the Inquisition, I did not have the luxury of time to consider what I might do if by some miracle I survived, let alone if we won. But I suppose I believed that, should I ever have a home of my own, I might have at least a hand in building it. This is simply…beyond my expectation.”

Belle laid down on the living room carpet. She sprawled out beneath the skylight, letting the muted warmth of the sun soak into her pale skin. She closed her eyes and breathed deep the lemon cleaner-scented air. “Well, we got a good deal. Cause I’m a Tom Slick, hotshot motherfucker who gets good deals. That’s what I do.” She smiled.

Cullen chuckled his three low chuckles. “I suppose it is.”

The sound of socks shuffling on carpet got loud and close, then the sound of someone laying down rustled up beside her. The weight of Cullen’s head came to rest on her stomach. She carded her fingers through his hair. They laid together in the sun puddle for a quiet minute or a quiet hour or a quiet day before she said, “You know, most of my furniture is old, hand-me-down crap. We need new stuff. So, if you want, you can still have a hand in putting this home together.”

Cullen wrapped his hand around her wrist and removed her hand from his hair. She frowned. He kissed the back of her hand, then pressed her palm to his chest. His heart beat a steady rhythm under her touch. Thuh-thump, thuh-thump, thuh-thump. She opened her eyes, and the sunlight bleached her vision.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Anytime.”

*****

#cullen #cullen rutherford #commander cullen #cullen x belle #belle dolan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #fanfic #mgit #modern girl in thedas #self indulgence au #htwwain

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5typesoftrash · 4 years

Text

Inhibitions - Chapter 7

Author: quicksilvermalec Artist: starfleetcadet1 Rating: M for swearing, mature themes, and minor sexual content Pairings: Sastiel, Castiel/Ezekiel, Castiel/Crowley Warnings: Rape/Non-Con (mentioned) Brief Tags: Angst, Pining, Drug Use, Minor Character Death Summary: So Castiel isn't the most - moral? Conventional? Call it what you like - attorney, but fuck if he isn't one of the best in the state of California. He's gone up against lawyers from all over and only lost a handful of cases in twenty years. So when a young up-and-comer beat him in a case he should have bagged, of course he was interested. But he wasn't expecting this.

[longer tags, link to art post, and fic under the cut]

Extended Tags: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No supernatural, Alternate Universe - No Angels, Alternate Universe, lawyer AU, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Lawyer Castiel, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied Sexual Content, minor explicit sexual content, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Minor Character Death, Offscreen character death, Getting Together, Getting Back Together, Falling In Love, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, First Kiss, First Time, breaking up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Betrayal, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Grief, Trauma, Negative Religious Experiences, Religious Sam Winchester, Mentions of Corrective Rape, Gay Castiel, Pansexual Sam Winchester, Pansexual Gabriel, Black Lives Matter, Protests, Pining, Mutual Pining, Age Difference, Widowed Castiel, Sad Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Endverse Castiel - Freeform, Sad Sam Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Good Brother Gabriel, Protective Gabriel, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, POV Castiel, Castiel is a Novak (Supernatural), this story is all over the fuckin place, kind of a wild ride with plenty of twists, enjoy!!

Have a link to the art and you can read this story on AO3 as well! 🧡

“Castiel!” Michael calls across the office floor. Castiel looks up from his papers. “You’re going back into the courtroom.” His brother drops a clip of loose-leaf paper on the desk next to him. “Read up. We need you on this case.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “What’s the turnaround?”

“Thursday,” Michael informs him.

Castiel hisses through his teeth; four days isn’t a lot of time to familiarize himself with the case and Michael knows this; what’s his play? “Who’s the defense?” he inquires.

Michael shakes his head. “I’ll tell you, but you aren’t gonna like it.”

Castiel is instantly on edge. Zachariah? Naomi? Metatron? A few names flash across his mind as he speaks – “I didn’t like Thursday, so give it to me straight, I’m sure I can handle it” – but he never even considers…

“Sam Winchester.”

Idiot, Castiel, he berates himself harshly. Goddamn motherfucking absolute idiot. Stupid stupid stupid stupid—

He sighs. “And I suppose this is an order, not a request?”

Michael purses his lips. “I wouldn’t phrase it quite like that, but no, you don’t have any choice in this assignment.”

Castiel just nods. “Thank you, sir. I need time to work now.”

Michael takes that for the dismissal that it so clearly is and steps away from his desk before disappearing down the hall. Castiel hangs his head limply from his shoulders for several minutes before forcing himself to sit up and examine these new papers he’s been given.

Rape case. Rape cases are tricky, especially as the prosecution of a man. And a cis white man at that. He has a feeling that Sam doesn’t particularly want to take this man’s defense, but as he has indicated many times, defending black youth at a flat rate of no charge doesn’t put food on the table or keep a roof over his head; he’ll have to make some concessions.

Castiel puts together the best case he can with the time and information that he has and prepares to enter the courtroom on Thursday.

He truly didn’t expect his world to be rocked so when he saw Sam again.

But here he is, staring at him pathetically from the other side of the courtroom. The first time they make eye contact, Castiel grins at him like an idiot and Sam looks away immediately. Castiel’s heart sinks into his stomach as he remembers Sam may never forgive him. From Sam’s point of view, Castiel was lying to and manipulating him the entire time. He can’t even know whether Castiel was actually attracted to him or if he was simply trying to get Sam to open up.

Castiel knows the feeling, and he hates being the reason Sam has to feel it.

He can’t talk to his friend – if they even qualify as such anymore – about it because he knows Sam will shut him down. He can’t apologize. He can’t explain. He must live and suffer in silence with the consequences of his decisions.

This is what he deserves for thinking he could replace Ezekiel.

“You weren’t trying to replace him, you were trying to move on from him.”

Gabriel does make an excellent point.

Not trying to replace him, but trying to move on from him. Using Sam as an attempt to heal, to repair, to perhaps become whole again after being rent so from himself for so many long years.

Not that it matters; he was still using Sam. Sam is right to think him manipulative and cruel; he is. He does not deserve the pure, loving goodness that is Sam Winchester.

He will never deserve another good thing.

He voices this thought to his brother, and Gabriel sighs, shaking his head. “Cassie,” he says. “You give yourself too much credit for all the wrong things.”

In later years, he’ll tell Castiel that he thinks that’s the first time anyone has voiced that particular concept in a way that got through to him. He’ll explain that something appeared in Castiel’s eyes, a sort of spark – call it hope, or life, or a lifting of responsibility – that had been rekindled for the first time in two decades. But now, not knowing any of that, Castiel responds the way he knows how.

Which is to say, he lights a blunt, pours a mug of tea, and doesn’t respond.

Gabriel pulls him into a hug, however, and Castiel’s eyes water. “I love you so very, very much,” he gasps. Gabriel nods sympathetically and kisses his hair.

“I know, Cassie. Believe me, I know.”

They stay there together for a long while, and Gabriel doesn’t allow Castiel to feel bad for needing help.

Four days after the case concludes, Castiel wakes up to… quite the surprise.

1 new voicemail – Sam Winchester

He bites his bottom lip as his finger hovers over the delete button, but in a moment of weakness he presses play instead.

“H- hey Castiel. Cazzzzzztieeeeeeeeel. Heh heh. I like your name.”

Sam is drunk.

Amazing. Sam drunk-dialed him to tell him his name is nice.

“Iz preeeeeeeetty. You’re pretty. Your stupid… jerk face with your jerk eye blues- uhh… blue eyes and your jerk pretty lips. Stupid pretty gorgeous funny talented sexy lawyer-types.”

Castiel’s eyebrows are practically knitting themselves together. What is going on?

“I’m an idiot, Castiel. I such… I’m such an idiot… for loving in- for falling in love with you. Wasn’t supposed to, that was such a… such a dick move. But you know what was a bigger… dickier move? You, you, you- you knew how I felt… and you slept with me anyway. What’m I, just a… night-one… one-night stand to you?”

“No…” Castiel whispers, despite knowing that Sam can’t hear him. “I wanted you forever.”

“You should… you should come back.” Sam laughs here, like he’s told himself a joke no one else would get. “If you walked… into my firm and me- and told me you still wanted me I’d be too dumb to refuse. I’d follow you anywhere… even to my own doom.”

Suddenly, his voice gets very loud. “DOOM!” he yells, causing Castiel to flinch, and in the background there are mouth-made explosion effects. So Sam wasn’t alone when he sent this. “That’s where you’re leading me Caz-tee-el. Gonna doom. Gonna… gonna… gonna… gonna die. Gonna die for you. Gonna die loving you, you… stupid beautiful angel of a man.”

Castiel’s phone falls to the floor as he drops his head into his hands. Sam’s voice is hushed as he says his last nine words.

“I wish I didn’t love you like it hurt.”

There’s a rustling sound on the other end, followed by inaudible shouting, then a click. And silence.

“Sam,” Castiel sobs. “I’m so, so sorry Sam. I didn’t want to hurt you this way.”

It takes a few more seconds for the content of the voicemail to catch up with him and then the realization washes over him all at once, unflinching and merciless as an ice-cold shower in the middle of January. Sam loves him.

Sam loves him. Sam still wants him.

Could Sam forgive him? Could Sam ever let go of the things he’s done?

Cas pulls his pillow into his chest, sobs into it for a while. He punches a hole in the plaster of his wall – there goes the deposit – and manages to crawl his way downstairs to drink a mug of tea and contemplate the horribly monumental cacophony of poor life choices that led him to this moment, sitting in his kitchen wearing nothing but boxers and a pair of socks, drinking tea, contemplating his life choices.

He sighs and slumps into a chair, finishes his tea in one long gulp, and then reaches for his blunt. He sticks it between his teeth and he’s seconds from lighting it when Sam’s words ring in his ears.

Get clean, Castiel.

The memory of the resigned look on Sam’s face is bad enough, but the quietly disappointed tone of voice Sam used is what shoves him over the edge. He flips his lighter closed and sets it on the table, then pulls the roll of paper out from between his teeth and flicks it across the room with two fingers. It skitters across the floor and comes to rest under a cabinet.

Gabriel, I’m going to rehab, he thinks to himself, and he imagines he can hear his brother’s response.

I’m so proud of you, Cassie.

He smiles softly.

Maybe he can turn some things around, with or without Sam.

July 29, 2020 - 18:32 From: Sam Winchester ([email protected]) To: Castiel Novak ([email protected])

Sincerest Apologies

Castiel,

When I came to the other day and discovered the voicemail that I had left for you, I was appalled at myself. I would like you to know that anything I may have said in that message I said in error; I was grieving and impaired and I should not have done what I did. I will refrain from contacting you in the future. I promise that this was an isolated incident that will not be repeated.

Many thanks, Sam Winchester, SJD (he/him) Sam Winchester Law Firm www.samwlaw.com

It’s mid-August when Castiel sees Sam again. He discovers that Sam’s brother Dean frequents a bar that he likes to attend, and one boring evening discovers the two of them sitting at a table not far from his own barstool, conversing in low tones. He watches them with a mixture of apprehension and fondness. He misses having that closeness with Sam.

Then Sam’s eyes flick up and meet his, and surprise makes itself evident on his face. He quickly replaces it with his carefully calculated emotionless mask and turns back to his brother, obviously pretending – whether for Castiel’s sake or his own – not to have noticed Castiel’s presence there at all.

So Castiel does something rash, impulsive, and incredibly fucking stupid; he walks over to Sam’s table and rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Hello, Sam,” he murmurs in his deep, gravelly whisper. Sam purses his lips and looks up.

“Castiel,” he greets formally. “Please leave, we were having a private conversation.”

“Sam, I—”

“I asked you to go,” Sam says again, his eyes narrowing and his voice sharpening. “If you want to preserve any shred of the relationship we used to have, I recommend you do as I asked.”

Castiel steps back, accepting that for the well-deserved reprimand it is. “I am sorry, Sam,” he sighs. “I just wanted to tell you that… I love you too.”

He turns away and walks out of the bar, back toward his car, toward his home, toward the comfort and safety of the world he’s known for so many years and the boundaries he’s never allowed himself to leave for exactly this reason—

A hand falls onto his shoulder this time, and pulls him around forcefully.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Sam demands, staring him down. Behind him, Cas can see Dean silhouetted in the doorway, paying for their drinks.

“Home,” he replies. “You asked me to leave.”

“No, no, no,” Sam says. “You can’t just— you can’t say something like that and walk away, that’s not fair, Castiel!”

Cas sucks air in through his teeth in preparation before he launches into a tirade he didn’t know he had in him. All the anger and guilt and blame he’s been transforming, redirecting to himself for the last few weeks because Sam can’t have done anything wrong comes flooding out of him all at once. “And I suppose you’ve been entirely fair to me? Cutting me off, never giving me a chance to explain or to defend myself? I suppose it’s completely fair to toy with me, to never be quite clear enough about how you feel for me to be honest about how I do? All of that is perfectly fair and kind and good, isn’t it?”

Sam stares at him. “Cas, I— no, that’s not it at all!”

“Then what is it, Sam?” Cas snaps. “Please, tell me, I would love to know.”

Instead of retreating like Cas expected, Sam seems to get angrier. He’s fired up now, and nothing’s going to stop him until this runs its course; that much is crystal clear to Cas.

“Look, Cas, this isn’t your fantasy world where you can control all the pieces and make them exactly like you want!” he yells. His eyes appear nearly yellow in the dark of the cloudless night sky that shrouds them, obscuring them from the rest of the world in deep blue mist. “This is real life, and real people have real feelings and react in real ways that you can’t predict and your real actions have real consequences so stop acting like you’re blameless!”

“I have done nothing to indicate that I am blameless,” Castiel contradicts. “I have spent every day since you left me drowning in my own guilt over this. I didn’t want to hurt you, Sam, I have very real feelings for you. I want you always to be safe and happy and loved and protected. I want you to know that you belong to yourself and that I will never try to take your autonomy from you. I wanted to believe that you understood me like no one ever did, save Ezekiel, but—”

“I’m not Ezekiel!” Sam sobs. “I’m not him, okay, so stop comparing me to him.”

Castiel sighs. “Goodbye, Sam,” he whispers, and then he slides into his car and slams the door shut. He bangs the heels of his hands on his steering wheel in frustration.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he shouts, collapsing forward onto the horn.

He stays there until long after the sun comes up.

“Hello, this is Castiel with Novak Represents. Who am I speaking with, please?”

“Wait, what did you mean by too?”

“Play it again.”

Sam Winchester is sitting in Castiel’s living room, staring resolutely at the black screen of the inactive television with his palms pressed together, lips pursed, elbows resting on his knees.

“Sam, you’ve heard it six times. You know what you said, what more do you need?” Castiel sighs exasperatedly.

“I just need you to play it one more time to pinpoint the person who’s doing an impression of me so I can track them down and murder them,” Sam says casually. Castiel rolls his eyes.

“Samuel Winchester, you are a lawyer. I sincerely doubt that that would go over well in a court of law. And besides, this is not someone doing an impression, this was you.”

“How would you know?” Sam asks with just a touch of bitterness in his voice. “You barely know me.”

Castiel rolls his eyes again. “Because Dean was with you when this happened and he confirmed that you said all of these things.”

Sam inhales deeply, exhales slowly, and slumps into a chair.

“I don’t want that to be me,” he says after a long silence, looking out the window to avoid seeing his friend’s face, “because then I have to deal with your response to that. And I don’t want to see it.”

Castiel walks over to him and kneels in front of him. “Sam,” he murmurs. “Did you mean anything you said in that email? Would you, sober you, actually think any of those things?”

Sam shakes his head, closing his eyes against the onslaught of Castiel’s pleading blue eyes. Finally, a single word falls from his lips, followed by a lengthy confession. “Yes,” he breathes. “Yeah, Cas, I’m in love with you, and I think you’re amazing and gorgeous and perfect and I want to be with you forever but you hurt me so much and I’m so stupid because I let you take advantage of me just like everyone else does and I thought you were better, I thought you were different than the other people, but you aren’t really, you’re just… better at hiding it. And it stings, thinking about you, thinking about how close I let you and how easily, and how badly I wanted because fuck, Cas, I wanted it. I still do, I still want you, I would fall back into your arms right this second if you asked me to which is why I’ve stayed away. You hurt me. I keep having to remind myself that. You hurt me…”

Castiel gently places a hand on Sam’s knee. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he breathes, and he feels tears burning the back of his throat. “I didn’t want to hut you, Sam, I wanted nothing more than to make you happy. I could’ve— I should’ve done better by you, I’m so so sorry. I just want—”

And the tears make their grand entrance, spilling silently down his cheeks, choking up his sentences as his voice thickens with emotion. “I want to start over,” he gasps. “Can we start over, Sam? Can you give me another shot at your heart?”

Sam looks at him stone-facedly for a long time, and with each moment that passes his heart sinks lower in his chest until it comes to rest in the pit of his stomach, a heavy weight like lead. Sam won’t forgive him, he thinks. This will be the end of his second great romance. Maybe a guy like Castiel just isn’t made for romance; perhaps his calling is drugs.

Then Sam nods and all of those notions shatter like sheets of glass on a stone floor. Sam pulls Cas up, into his lap, and Cas braces himself on the back of the couch and looks down at Sam’s beautiful, angular face. “Hi,” he whispers, his eyes still a little puffy, his voice still a little hoarse, his face still a little red. Sam reaches for a napkin and wipes off his shimmering wet cheeks.

“Hi,” he says back.

Cas smiles confidently.

“I feel bad now,” he confesses.

“I know one thing that will make you feel better,” Sam whispers.

“What’s that?” Cas asks, his blue eyes darting between the hazel pair in front of him and the lips just below them. Sam laughs.

“This,” he answers simply, and he tilts back his chin to kiss Cas softly on the mouth.

“Tell me it’s real this time,” Sam begs halfway into their make out session. “Promise me, swear on your life that you’re not going to break my heart again.”

Cas nods and tugs at the bottom hem of Sam’s shirt. “I will never hurt you again,” he promise, kissing Sam’s shoulder. “Not if I can help it.”

Sam wraps his legs around Castiel’s waist and his arms around Castiel’s neck. “I believe you,” he murmurs, and pulls his new old lover down again.

Sam and Castiel go on a date.

A real one, this time.

“I remember wishing our last meal together was a real date like this,” Cas breathes as he looks at Sam’s beautiful face over a plate of salmon. “I kept wanting to kiss you or hold your hand and forcing myself not to. I’m glad that I can now.”

Sam grins and takes Cas’s hand, as if given an invitation. “I’m glad we can now, too,” he says happily, grinning across the table at his boyfriend.

“Sam?” Cas says softly.

“Hm?” Sam replies.

“I love you,” Castiel says factually.

Sam snorts softly and kisses Cas’s knuckles. “You know something?” he says nonchalantly.

“Yes, Sam?” Castiel asks in amusement, smiling at him. Sam chuckles.

“I might just love you too,” Sam replies.

Castiel grins at him and squeezes his hand before releasing it to eat his dinner. It’s been far too long since he had anything to celebrate, but he does now. He’s nearly a month clean, he has a beautiful new boyfriend who really truly does love him, and they’re going to make it through the rest of their lives together. Things are good.

Perhaps there are, after all, reasons to fight.

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#sastiel #angst #sastiel big bang 2020 #deansil writes #fluff #happy ending #castiel #sam winchester #michael #zachariah #naomi #metatron #lawyer!sam #lawyer!cas #email #drugs #drugs tw #tw drugs

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