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#ch: for years i've been risking nothing
rocknluvy · 28 days
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charlie headcanons !
i like to think of him as half-native, specifically apache
"nuwanda" still racist tho
was never a ‘good’ student but got decent to good grades until like ? 7th grade bc adhd
started smoking around 8th grade and feels like he can't stop bc oral fixation
oldest and only son. has a younger sister 
also his mom was teen pregnant with him and thats why his parents had to get married x
his parents weren't really into the emotional part of being parents
writes a ton of sappy poetry he never shares with anybody
genderqueer and or gnc (i still like to use he/him bc pronouns ≠ gender)
also bisexual 
LOVES flirting n making out n all that stuff . it’s his favorite pastime
gets in fights every now and again bc hes a hothead, but other than that he is basically everyone’s best friend
or at least he makes everyone feel like theyre bestfriends 
switches to a first-name-basis with keating
loves music and has a talent for playing just about any instrument he picks up 
except the piano he hates pianos for some reason 
i really like the idea of him becoming a musician or artist of some kind
love language is physical touch. followed by quality time n words of affirmation
he says almost everything that crosses his mind
the type of guy to say incredibly sweet n profound shit without realizing
it gets drowned out by all the dumb shit he says tho
coffee drinker, but the kind of pretentious one where he only really drinks espressos and other ‘authentic’ coffee.
not his fault he was raised by pretentious assholes 
around the time of graduating welton he got disowned by his parents and was homeless for a while. 
hes DESTINED to be a single teen girl dad. at least for a little bit then he can get a coparent boyfriend but for alteast it’s just him and his lil girl
gets hyperfixated on random things often so has a bunch of random skills varying in usefulness 
like cooking ? good, he should know how to cook. piercing ? not very useful and kinda expensive 
etc etc
gets a couple piercings (and tattoos) himself bc ofc he does
likes giving his friends piercings and thinks it’s a great flirting ‘hook’
imean it worked with meeks so ig hes right  ...
i take headcanon and one-shot requests btw 
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livingemkayde · 8 months
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ch vi. bruises
joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)
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chapter six of chaser
warnings: 18+ minors please dni. ooof okay where to start, smut unprotected p in v, mentions of bruising from sex? fighting like actual real life fist fighting, rough but sweet sex, grinding, lowkey some cockwarming?? kinda unwanted kissing, tommy being annoying and somewhat overbearing, and unwanted touching, but not sexual. caroline. just, caroline. because she deserves her own warning for this one. no use of y/n.
summary: everything comes to a head at tommy's birthday party.
a/n: this is genuinely the longest part/chapter thing i've ever written so enjoy. tommy is really annoying in this one, im still deciding if he's going to have a redemption arc. sorry this took so long. as always, i love you all so much. MY TUMBLR LITERALLY SHIT ITS PANTS WHEN I TRIED TO EDIT THE TAGLIST SO IM SORRY IF YOU GUYS GOT TAGGED LIKE 400 TIMES.
if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!
“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused.  “Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.”  But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen. 
You can almost remember it like it was yesterday. 
A few weeks back, the first time you invited Tommy in for a drink after dinner. Sarah was asleep back at the house, Joel was doing — god knows what. The sun was set, the mosquitoes were probably out, and there was a quiet, even maybe too quiet silence when Tommy pulled up to your house. 
He had asked what the rest of your plans were for the night. 
You had said nothing much, not knowing it was an invitation — he stayed till 2 a.m. that night. 
But it was okay. Because he made you laugh and you enjoyed his company. He was interesting. Tommy told you about how he never wanted to go into contracting in the first place. About his broken bones, his all time biggest regrets, how he was smitten with his old high school flame turned mean cheerleader until graduation. 
It was the first time you ever realized he was — well — his own person in the sense. Not just Joel’s younger brother. But Tommy. Tommy Miller. 
Maybe in another life Tommy might’ve even been good for you. A perfect pair — a match. He wasn’t mean and brooding and he certainly didn’t have 12 years on you. 
And he made you smile. And he was genuinely—genuinely interested in your life. Your post grad prospects, college, books, and even how you played soccer just like Sarah when you were younger.
But when he leaned in that night, closer to you than ever before. You froze. Like genuinely frozen, and you couldn’t even dare to look down to his slowly approaching lips, let alone how his arms caged you in. 
“First kiss?” you remember him asking.
You had just stuttered out nonsense, not wanting to breathe too hard and run the risk of pushing your lips flush with his. 
“I — um —” you nervously laughed. You couldn’t even think—not in the way you should—not when the first person that comes to mind when Tommy says, kiss is his brother. 
He had leaned in closer then—more tentative. Like you were a scared deer in headlights or a frightened kitten and he was inching forward, wanting to move closer. 
But you didn’t really do — anything. 
And he had pulled back a bit, gave you a teasing look and a ruffle on the head and continued with the conversation.  
In all honesty you were scared that he might've been inching forward to kiss you. The small fear settling through a slightly erratic heartbeat and nervous laughs. 
You were scared then, but can’t really remember the last time you’ve felt this kind of fear. 
Hurt, discomfort, shock, maybe. 
And although it was being quickly replaced with anger, you don’t remember this feeling — this kind of fear. Not even the kind you get from watching a scary movie — where you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins and then dissipating when the screen goes dark, and the lights turn back on and all you have to worry about is if the scary nun from the big screen will appear in your dreams. 
You can remember all the last times you’ve gotten mad, sure. Mainly at the Miller brothers. 
But never fear — well, not until right now. 
Because whoever that Tommy was is definitely not the same guy staring back at you right now, with a bruised fist, an angry look swirled with hurt marked permanently on his face and one emotion that you can definitely place behind his eyes — jealousy. 
_
Some hours earlier. 
You spread colorful tablecloth over the mismatched tables in Joel’s backyard. The string lights are being hung up, Joel stands on a ladder towards your right, the sound of a hammer echoing through the small backyard. 
You pick your phone out of your back pocket, checking the time. You also find it in you to check Tommy’s texts again, but no other messages have been sent since last night. You look down at your phone — at the messages — and sit against one of the tables. 
Yesterday: 
You: can we talk in person?
Tommy Miller: I’ll see you tomorrow at the party?
You hadn’t seen the text until this morning, when Joel and you found it in yourselves to get out of bed, have a shower, and start setting up for the party. So when you saw it, you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat. 
You’re a bit nervous at the prospect. You did not want to talk to him at his party—honestly just trying to text him so that the air would be cleared for the party. 
But his words echo in your mind. 
“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.” 
You let out a cursed sigh. 
Tommy had to know. Right?
If he knew the dreaded ‘no’ was already braced on your lips he had to know. That this thing between you and Tommy would never work out. That you’re way better as friends. That it would ruin everything — the dynamics of it all — that you were smitten with his brother and you guys had just slept together for the second time without Tommy’s knowledge and that—
“Alright?”
Joel stands in front of you, dipping his head to see a scowl marked on your face. You quickly — maybe even too quickly — forget about the messages, hell, forget about Tommy. 
Because Joel looks handsome. He’s always handsome, you’ve thought since the moment you met him at the bar. There’s something intoxicating about him, his arms, the curve of his neck. His brooding nature does him justice — a uniqueness about him that makes you want to uncover more, learn more, see more. 
You remember last night—very vividly through small ebbs and flows of sleep. The moonlight seeped into your skin as you both rolled around in gray sheets. 
It makes your cheeks heat a bit at the thought. 
You remember everything. Every little detail. You don’t think you’ll ever forget. 
You tuck your phone back into your pocket. 
“Yeah, sorry. ‘S just…” you trail off, he nods his head in understanding, coming closer to you. 
He braces his hands on either side of your body, caging you in. Your faces study each other’s mere inches apart. 
“Tablecloth givin’ you trouble?” Joel teases in a soft whisper, looking down at your lips, then back to your eyes. 
“Funny,” you say with a grin and run your tongue over your lips. 
“You need help, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” Joel’s small smile plays on his lips for a fleeting second. You miss it as soon as it’s gone. 
“Duly noted. But I’m not the one who’s been hanging up string lights for the past hour.”
He pats your ass a bit, teasing you and pushing out a playful sigh. 
“Perfection takes time.” 
Joel’s beginning to dip his head to kiss you, but you find it in you to bite back.
“And yet the left side’s still lower than the right,” you whisper, pulling your head back slightly. He turns quickly to look at the fence, but gives you a harder slap on your ass when he realizes the lights are, in fact, straight. 
Joel chuckles, pushing off from the table, you turn back around to continue fixing the cloths, and look back at him over your shoulder. 
He’s looking back at you too. 
“You’re killin’ me,” he says, and you smile to yourself when you turn back around. 
_
You look around the backyard and check your phone for the millionth time since the party started. You can hear Sarah running around, screaming a bit while jumping into the pool. But your brows furrow when you find that Tommy still hasn’t texted you. 
You spot a tuft of red hair swinging through your vision and spin to find Janet Baker squeezing through the crowd. 
“Janet!” you say, approaching her quickly. You’re happy to see her—Tommy didn’t invite many people you’re familiar with. 
“Hey, Doll. Thanks for the invite!” she says, pulling you into a quick hug, but when she sees the look on your face, her mouth drops into a frown. “Sweetie, you okay?” 
“Yeah, sorry. I—Tommy didn’t…I don’t really know anyone here,” you reply while sheepishly looking around the small, bustling backyard. It’s the kind of feeling you try your best to avoid. Like everyone is in on some secret joke that you have no clue about. Or everyone knows each other and you can’t even put faces to names because you don’t know any names—like right now. 
“‘S fine—I’m happy to see you made it,” you let out a defeated chuckle. 
“‘F course, baby. Charlotte really wanted to see Sarah,” she nods towards the girls in the pool, Charlotte’s red hair looking strikingly similar to the woman standing in front of you. Janet seems to be on her second drink of the afternoon, you saw her tipping back a solo cup out of the corner of your eye earlier. 
“What are you drinking?” you ask her, nodding at her cup. 
“Someone brought a fancy lookin’ wine I popped open,” she says, giving you a sly smile. “Why don’t we get you a drink? You’ll like this,” she says, you don’t have much time to react, she’s already pulling you towards the drink station. 
You both settle into a comfortable silence, looking around the backyard while Janet pours your drink. 
“So,” she says, giving you a wink. 
“So…” you echo, sending a nervous laugh her way. 
“Who’s that girl,” she nods towards Caroline while passing you a cup, you take a big sip, Janet fills it back up to the top without a second glance. 
“Caroline,” you say looking at her and Joel. They’re talking to some other people, a small group of them congregating by the barbecue. 
“Caroline…” Janet tests out on her tongue, willing you to continue. 
“Caroline—Joel’s,” you can’t help but chuckle. “date. I guess.” 
“That bother you?” she says, finishing the bottle of wine while the two of you walk back towards the edge of the pool so she can watch Charlotte and Sarah. 
“Nope,” you say, and it’s not a lie. Sure, it might be a little weird to see another woman clinging to his arm after yesterday. But you know now. And that’s all that matters. 
“Joel can—” you laugh again, “—Joel can do what he likes.” 
Janet stops walking suddenly. You tear your gaze away from Joel and look at her with a confused furrowed brow. 
“Sweetie…” she says with eyes that look way too knowing for your comfort or peace of mind. 
“Janet…?” you say, though her gaze just intensifies. 
“You mean to tell me it happened since I last saw you?”
Your eyes widen, a shocked look crosses your face and you quickly try to replace it with a bad mask of confusion. 
“W-what? I—” 
“Don’t lie to me, doll,” she warns, and she looks like she really means it. 
“Janet…” you say in a not as effective and halfhearted warning tone back. 
“Don’t you dare,” she wags her finger—a final warning. 
What has gotten into you and why can’t you find it in yourself to lie to this woman?
“Don’t te—” she gasps, “Janet, I mean it. Do not tell anyone.” 
She shuts her half open mouth and makes the my lips are sealed motion across her face. You laugh while stealing a glance at Joel. 
“I told you,” she whispers to you in a hush, joining your eyeline towards Joel.
You stay silent for a moment, just taking everything and everyone in—but at the same time just looking at Joel. when you finally break the silence you’re a bit shocked at your question. You’ve never talked about Joel like this with someone who actually knows him. Everything has always been a secret—like you were supposed to be ashamed or something. You never were.  
“How did you know?” you ask, hushed. You’re not sure she’ll even hear you. 
“Would love to say it was intuition, sweetie—but—it was him. It was written all over his face.” 
_
You stayed with Janet for the better portion of the hour, all through silent peaks at your phone to see if Tommy had texted you. When it was getting to the point where people were getting curious, you’ve just about had your limit. 
You approach Joel quickly, you don’t miss Caroline’s stunned face but you really can’t be bothered with—that—right now. 
“Joel?” you ask, pulling at his arm a bit, he excuses himself from the group and follows you towards the backyard's edge. 
“Where the hell is your brother?” you whisper.
“He’s not here?” he asks, the same hushed tone also pushing through his voice at your question. 
“No! I called him, but he’s not responding,” you pipe back while pulling out your phone. Though the lack of notifications from Tommy—just as before—tells you enough. 
You both look at each other for a fleeting second. But the same worried look is probably etched on both your faces — fuck. 
“This fuckin’ guy,” Joel mutters under his breath while pulling out his own phone and then putting it up to his ear. 
You pace around the small area you and Joel are in, observing the unfamiliar faces. 
“Nothin’,” Joel grovels, taking a peak over the fence towards the street to see if Tommy's truck has pulled up. “I’ll try ‘im again — just — you should mingle,” he says, still looking down at his phone. 
“‘S fine. I don’t really know anyone here anyways,” you say absentmindedly, looking through your phone for Tommy’s contact and putting your phone up to your ear. 
You hear yelling and shouting from the entrance to the backyard. You slowly lift your head, reluctant to tear your eyes away from frantic texts. 
You spot him, in all his glory. Tommy Miller. Two hours late to his own birthday party—though he looks like he couldn’t care less, hugging old friends and new ones. He spots your eyes in the crowd and you can’t even be bothered to smile, a frown is almost permanently placed on your face—Late to your own birthday party? 
He nods his head toward the house, a silent invitation to talk when he’s done greeting the guests. You nod back and turn to Joel, Tommy turns to everyone else. 
“He’s here,” you say, pulling Joel out of his own phone, he does a double take towards the entrance and huffs out a groan. 
“Goddamn idiot,” Joel says, running his palm over his eyebrow. 
“I’m gonna go—” you say, nodding towards the house, towards Tommy. 
“Yeah. Alright,” he replies, though he looks a bit concerned and unfocused, looking towards Tommy, then back to you, “You need me, ‘m there.”
“‘M not telling him about us on his birthday and It’s Tommy, Joel.” 
Tommy—harmless. 
Though Joel’s look sends a sweat to your palms for some reason. You don’t know why he’s worried. 
It’s Tommy. It’s fine. 
Right? 
You hope as much as you make your way through the crowd. You beeline for the house and slip past the sliding doors into the kitchen where cups and bags of chips lay open and equally sprawled. 
You can hear the door slide open and shut again behind you as you try and salvage the mess. 
“Baby,” Tommy says, rounding the corner and coming close to you, “‘M sorry. The concrete guy was supposed to drop off the shipment tomorrow but he came today and needed a signature—” 
“Tommy, it’s okay,” you almost have to will yourself to say. You also have to remember it’s his birthday. 
He looks down. 
“‘S okay. It’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” you reassure with a small smile. 
“Looks great out there,” he says, fiddling with his phone in his hand. 
“Thanks.” 
You’re suddenly a bit nervous. You hadn’t really thought about everything that had happened when Tommy being late to his own birthday party was blanketing all the drama. But he’s here now, and you have no idea what to say. Maybe it would be better to not say anything at all—not address the fact that he asked you out, or you and Joel. But that guilty gnawing feeling eats you alive the longer you stand in silence. 
“Joel helped you?” 
“Yeah. I went shopping yesterday and dropped off the stuff here then we set it up this morning,” you say, nodding towards the backyard and then your car parked out front. 
“You went shopping on your own?” he almost sounds offended. 
“I wanted to go on my own.” 
Tommy doesn't look convinced. 
“Really, T. ‘S fine,” you brush off, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing your arms. He stares at you from the other side of the kitchen. 
“Caroline here?” he asks, a hesitant look on his face as he switches from looking at the ground to your face—almost like he’s looking for a reaction. 
“She’s out there somewhere,” you nod, keeping a neutral face masked with a small smile. “You should mingle. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.” 
But he doesn’t move, he just keeps fiddling with the case on his phone again, looking down to the floor—his feet. 
“I— you said you wanted to talk in person.” 
Shit. 
You both look at each other, waiting. A game of cat and mouse. 
“It can wait, T. Enjoy your party,” you say, gesturing to the crowd outside. 
“Is it about—is it about what happened Friday?” 
“Tommy,” you say, almost warningly. This situation is shitty enough as is. You really don’t want to spoil everything—even if there’s nothing left to spoil. 
He doesn’t say anything. His thumb fiddling with his phone is the only sound coming from inside the kitchen. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Almost unbearable. You crack way quicker than you’d hope to last. 
If he wants it like this, at his own birthday party, then so be it. 
“Fine. I just—I wanted to…” you scramble for words but they jumble in your mind. 
“I’m—” you fall short again. “About what you said. What you asked me. I don’t think that it’s…something I want. I’m—sorry.” 
“You don’t think it’s something you want? Or you know that—” 
“Tommy,” you say, giving him an awkward stifled laugh. Like he’s being childish with his response. Because he is. “I don’t—I’m sorry.”
He turns away from you suddenly, towards the window above the sink and just stares at it for a long time. You can see his chest puffing. When he finally turns back around, it’s different. It’s the Tommy you know. 
“‘S okay,” He says. 
Maybe he’ll get over it quickly—you hope. 
“Are you okay? I’m—I mean I hope that this doesn’t change anything since I’m still gonna be around—” you lift your arm up to run a ragged hand across your forehead and through your hair, you don’t even notice that your shirt riding up, “— I just don’t want it to like—” 
“What is that?” 
Your eyes snap to Tommy’s, confused. You think he might be looking out the window again but his eyes trail to you, but lower. Like he’s looking at your hips—because he is. You’re still confused for a second, before examining your shirt, looking for stains or anything out of the ordinary. But you don’t find anything, your top spotless. 
“What? I don’t—” 
“No—” he takes a couple quick steps forward, into your space, you try to find his eyes—yours blown out with confusion and shock but his are trained and laser focused to your waistline. 
“What’s—” he tries to pull up your shirt, you shove him back out of reflex. “You’re hurt, what happened t’you?” 
He almost pins down your hands to see your skin under your shirt, dipping his head to look at your waist and hips and you suddenly know. You know there are hand shaped bruises littered across the skin of your waist, turning it deep purple. Handprints that match Joel’s exactly—almost like they’re burned into you. You saw it this morning. It’s why you didn’t bother to put on a swimsuit and decided to keep a top on instead. 
What’s even worse is you know Tommy saw it too. 
“Tommy!” you’re yelling now, fighting his grip. 
You slip up, unable to get a good hold on his wrist like he now has on yours and he pushes the shirt up to reveal the bruises. 
“What the hell is that?” 
“Fucking—get off!” he backs away with your second shove, a different kind of look on his face. “Jesus,” you huff out, yanking your shirt back down. 
You both stand there. A pregnant silence between you. You can almost hear the gears turning, he stares blankly. Putting it all together. Like maybe you’re not hurt, but you wanted it—wanted it from another man. Somewhere in the back of his mind he might keep wishing someone hurt you so he didn’t have to feel so betrayed. So when he asks, it’s like he doesn’t want to admit that it’s true—the quiet possibility of someone else in the picture. 
“Who,” he says slowly, pointing down to your waist, “did that?”
“Tommy—” you say, but footsteps cut you off, you both turn your head to the entrance of the kitchen as Joel rounds the corner. He looks out of breath and his eyes flicker from Tommy and his finger pointing down at your waist then back to you. 
“We alright in here?” Joel stands, hesitant, his fingers play with the bottom hem of his shirt in an anxious way. Like he doesn't know what he’s just walked in on—you’re not entirely sure you know the answer to that either. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy so you stay silent, waiting for the man in front of you to respond. 
“Yup,” Tommy replies, too angry to be believable. 
Joel looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. Not out loud. 
No. You try to say with your eyes. We are definitely not alright in here. 
“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused. 
“Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.” 
But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen. 
He stands beside you, putting a flat sprawled palm on Tommy’s chest and silently tries to push him backward. But Tommy breaks first, pushing Joel’s hand off him, staggering back while looking at you and Joel.
And maybe he gets it then, you think. Because Tommy lets out a deep chuckle—like you’ve got clown makeup on. Like he’s never seen anything more funny. He’s a lot of things but he is not fucking stupid. So he looks past Joel to your eyes. To your face, almost covered—ridden—in guilt and he can see everything. 
“Really?” Tommy says, not sparing Joel a glance. 
“You put your fuckin’ hands on her?” Tommy says, almost at a whisper which makes it all the more intimidating. You can see Joel’s back puff, his anger rising. But you also know Joel would never hurt his brother. Not on purpose.
But you’re scared. You’re really fucking scared in this moment because Tommy is entirely too worked up and you know whatever excuse Joel is going to say won’t help. 
“Easy,” Joel says, his voice cutting through the tense silence. 
You’re sweating. The hot summer of July in Austin getting to you. They stare at each other for a long time. Like at the kitchen table, like when you all first met. But this time, Tommy breaks, and his eyes flicker to yours, he takes a tiny step to the side so he can see you better. 
“Is this why? Is this why you’re fuckin’—jesus, fuck. ‘S this why he went to get you a tire?” you stand, you can’t really say anything, your stunned figure doesn’t move.  
“He hurt you,” Tommy breathes out, his voice almost breaking if he wasn’t so angry. You shake your head. 
You both know that the bruises aren’t from hurt. That they’re far from it. 
“He didn’t,” you reply. 
“No, no, baby. He’s—you’re—” Tommy almost looks like he can’t believe it, shaking his head, switching between you and Joel. The look you give him shuts him up, and makes him back away, until Joel unclenches his fists and relaxes his shoulder a fraction. 
“I didn’t really want to tell you like this, I was—” 
“Fucking my brother?” he bites back, interrupting you. 
That makes you a bit mad. You’re not in love with his attitude, nor his tone. It’s not like he has any right. It’s not like either of them do. 
Joel moves to speak but you do it first. 
“Don’t give me that,” you say, almost laughing, though the situation is not funny, not in the slightest. “We’re not dating, Tommy. We never were.” 
Caroline strides in at that, looking at the scene unfolding in the kitchen. She stops short of the three of you, her mouth slightly agape. You roll your eyes, fucking perfect. Let’s just bring the party in here instead. You’ll give it to the woman. She has impeccable timing.
“Needed some napkins…” she trails off, holding the empty napkin stand in her right hand up so everyone can see. “I—I can come back.”
“Did you know?” Tommy turns to her, gesturing to you and Joel. 
“Tommy,” Joel says from in front of you, a warning. Tommy ignores him. 
“Did you know?” he asks again, Caroline stares back shocked. But she does consider it, rolls the idea around in her head before speaking. 
“Them two?” Tommy nods. “Her?” 
Okay. You really don’t love that tone. You silently chastise yourself for thinking she was nice at the bar when your first instinct was that she was a bitch—because she is. You were waiting for her snarky undertones or spoiled takes to show. You knew it was coming, you just didn’t know when. 
“No, ‘f couse not.” She’s almost laughing, like it could never be possible. It hits you harder than you’ll ever admit. “She’s — you’re…young,” she says, looking at you. 
Tommy gestures to you and Joel like he’s saying, well believe it, because it’s true.
Joel moves faster than you can comprehend. He’s got a tight grip on Tommy’s arm. He probably doesn’t even have to say anything, Tommy knows what’s happening. But Joel warns him anyway—again. 
“Quit,” he growls. You’d guess this might be the point where Tommy usually backs down. But this situation is far from usual. 
“Or what?” Tommy bites back. When Joel doesn’t respond he continues. “You gonna mark me up? Leave me all black and blue?” 
Tommy doesn’t stop there, you try to move past Joel but he stops you, turns his head to you slightly, a hardened look in his eye.
“Oh, I forgot you’d probably like that, huh?” 
Joel remains frozen for a couple fleeting seconds before whipping around and pushing Tommy into the back counter. You’re rooted to your place, you don’t even care that Caroline is still in the corner, holding the fucking napkin holder in the air. 
“What’d you say?” Joel barks in Tommy’s face. 
“Look at her fuckin’ stomach, dude!” Tommy throws the words in his face, pushing him back slightly and making a vague gesture in your direction, it causes your feet to move towards the brothers before you can think. 
Joel backs off then, sneaking a tiny glance at you out of the corner of his eye, like he really is thinking about the marks he left on your waist. He had seen them this morning, ran his fingers over them too, and saw how the notches matched the curves of his fingers perfectly. But you kissed him, and told him it was okay. That it was more than okay. Maybe even whispered that you liked it between muffled groans. So when a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes it makes your heart break more than it already has. 
“She said no,” Joel says, looking back at Tommy. A tense silence follows—like you’re not sure if Joel is going to continue or Tommy is going to bite back.
“Get back to your party,” Joel growls after a while. You bite your lip.
Tommy looks at Joel with unwavering eyes. His glance turns towards the window where he can see the bustling crowd—can almost hear the laughter. Then he looks down to his hand, outstretches it, undoes his gnarly fist, and when it curls back up again, you finally bite. 
“Tommy!” you say, moving closer. But it’s too late. Joel’s figure knocks to the side and his hand instinctively grabs his face, his nose, his eye. Maybe the worst part about it all is that Joel doesn’t even look remotely surprised, or that he wants to fight back—he just stays there, a little hunched over when you yelp in shock and Tommy groans, shaking out a now bruised fist. 
“Fuck,” you almost yell, your body doesn’t know what to do between bending down to see Joel’s face and looking at Tommy—at his face—because you don’t recognize him. 
Joel almost huffs out a laugh, and to shut him up, to get him to bite his tongue, you speak again. 
“Okay. We’re done here,” you say, pushing Joel towards the entrance of the house, towards your car. 
And Caroline is there, pushing Tommy towards the couches and for the first time, you’re grateful for her. 
_
The ride back to your house is silent after a short and quick bicker about who can drive. You think Joel might want to sit in the driver's seat so you can’t see the quickly forming bruises on the left side of his face but you make a decent argument, enough to settle him in the passengers—looking out the window. 
You send Janet a quick text, asking if she can watch Sarah for a few hours. Brother emergency. Janet replies back and says the girls haven’t gotten out of the pool since you left. It makes you smile a bit, despite it all. 
When you park in your driveway, you hop out quickly, Joel following closely behind. He waits there, right behind you, when you pull out your house keys, and waits when you unlock the deadbolt and waits when you push through the door. 
“Make yourself at home,” you say, nodding towards the couches and dropping your keys in the bowl. 
You disappear into the kitchen and brace your arms on the counter, your head hanging between your shoulders. You let out a deep, ragged breath and try to control your heartbeat. 
“Fuck,” you mumble, shaking out your wrists, grabbing two advil from the bottle on your counter, a glass of water, and peas from freezer.  
Joel’s sitting on the loveseat, looking down at his hands. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He just takes the water and pills from your hands and swallows it silently. You extend the peas to him, he thinks about it for a while and when you shake them again, huffing, saying—just fucking take them. He finally obliges. 
You get a good look at his cheek when he turns to set the water down on the table and you have to stop yourself from gasping. 
“Joel,” you murmur, reaching for him, bending down, he stops you, grabs your wrist, then grabs your hand. But he’s gentle. Not like Tommy. Joel’s gentle. 
“‘S fine,” he says, and winces when the peas touch his face. “‘M fine.”
You settle in between his legs, looking down at him. He’s got one hand on his face, holding the peas, and the other, wrapped around the back of your thigh. He doesn’t even want to look up at you. It breaks your heart. 
“‘M sorry,” you say quietly, his hand on your thigh trails upward. He plays with the hem of your shirt and lifts it enough to take a peek at the purple that lies there. 
He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, running a gentle, ghost-like touch across the bruises. 
“He — saw it. I don’t…” you look down to your stomach. You can see the shape of his fingertips so clearly. It’s no wonder Tommy reacted how he did. “It was an accident.”
He doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. He tosses the peas onto the table and pushes the cotton of your shirt up further, to where he can see all of it—all the black and blue there. 
“Are you mad?” you whisper, hesitantly, as he stares at his own hands, his own branding. 
“‘M sorry,” he mumbles. 
“Don’t be,” you say, begging, “Please.”
“He did that cause—,” you breathe out, taking his chin in your pointer finger and thumb and getting your first good look at his cheek, “—it’s-’s my fault, I should’ve—”
“C’mon. Don’t do that,” he says, cutting you off, nipping your apology in the bud, “I should be the one who’s sorry, this is — I hurt you.” 
You shake your head. 
“You know that’s not—you know that I—” you stifle a short chuckle. 
“That you what?”
You let out a couple hot breaths, looking down at him, the purple around his eye slowly taking shape. 
“That I liked it.” 
Joel bends forward then, and you gasp. The dull scratch of his beard is the only thing keeping your eyes open. He trails his hot breath across your stomach, and leaves gentle kisses on your sides, on your bruises.
“Joel,” you mumble, and you hate how your voice sounds so breathy, maybe even desperate. You tangle your hands in his hair, grasping at the nape of his neck he pulls you down, closer, so you’re slotted in his lap, straddling him. Joel pulls back and looks at your face, brushes the fallen hair from your eyes. 
“I meant what I said,” you start, he furrows his brow, “Still—mean it.”
From the look in his eyes he knows what you’re talking about. The words you slipped into his ear last night.
‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you.
“But if this is—if Tommy—” you cut yourself off, correcting your words, “If I messed it up—” 
“Sweetheart,” he says. Your heart pulls, you almost put your hand on his cheek, but you see the rising skin and settle for his shoulder. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 
“Are you sure?” 
He pulls you down further, so you’re flush against him. He studies your eyes and rubs at your waist, your hips. It sends a little fire down between your thighs. 
“‘M here—‘M…I’m right here,” he mumbles, and shakes his head. Like he’s telling you no to any silent thoughts of doubt that might be floating around your head. 
And then he pulls your head down to kiss you. 
It’s needy, and hot and everything you want at this moment. He’s everywhere and you can feel his growing arousal between your legs. You both needed this—you think. After everything, after—fucking—Caroline and Janet Baker and Tommy Miller. You both needed each other so bad that when you grind down onto him he lets out a little desperate groan into your mouth that spurs you on. 
Joel slips his hand under your shirt and finds the hardened peak there. He pinches it and rolls it between his fingers, it sends your hips forward and suddenly he’s sitting up, and shucking your shirt off. 
He grabs your hips and moves you against him, your most vulnerable spots grinding against each other. Giving you both blown out eyes and puffy lips and panting breath. 
“Sh–it,” you gasp when your shorts catch on your clit perfectly. 
“Pretty,” he says, grasping at your tits, at anything he can find while you grind against his length. “fuckin’—pretty like this.”
You claw at his belt and before you know it, he’s lifting you up so you’re on your knees and he’s pulling his pants past his hips. You get the memo and take your shorts off, tossing them behind you. When you sink back down onto his lap, you can feel his cock slip between your wet lips down there. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you say, gliding along his cock, soaking it. You can feel all of him now—grinding along his hardness—the girth of him fitting perfectly between your swollen lips. 
“Angel,” Joel pants out, through sloppy kisses. You look at him. He’s got a desperate look on his face. Like he couldn’t wait just like you. Not even to get upstairs to your bedroom or to get all his clothes off. Like he’s been wanting this all day. Just like you. 
You move up and reach down, feeling the wet mess you’ve both made down between your legs. You find his cock, hard and wanting, and position it at your entrance. The head sinks past your walls, enveloping it somewhere deeper and you both groan at the feeling. 
You sink down on him slowly, you’re by no means physically ready to take him. But you can’t wait any longer. He kisses you, and down to your neck, making it easier to ease yourself down onto him, and when you finally reach the end, and you’re seated fully in his lap, you both gasp. 
Your walls clench around him, eliciting a quiet groan from Joel somewhere near your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head, your forehead drops onto his shoulder. You both just sit there, waiting for the other to make a move. 
It’s kind of like a game. 
See how long you can both relish in each other’s warmth — the first person who moves loses. 
Your walls tighten again and he lets out another groan, “Jesus,” he mumbles, nipping at your neck. You’re slowly adjusting to him, relaxing around him. It makes you shudder. 
You realize he’s not really touching you. He’s got his hands on your thighs, but they’re just resting there. Not squeezing or gripping your hips like you know he so desperately wants. Maybe he’s scared, you think. From everything that’s happened today. From the consequences his touch barred. 
But you didn’t care about the consequences. You liked his touch, needed his touch, just as much as he needed something to hold him back down to earth, anchor him to you—in you. And afterall, you just want him to feel good. Feel better. 
“Touch me,” you gasp out, reaching down to his hands. 
“Am touchin’ you,” he forces out, panting near your ear. His thumb absentmindedly pushes down on the skin of your thigh a fraction harder and then eases up, like he’s saying this is the best I can do. 
“No, Joel,” you moan, rock your hips a little, moving first, moving frantically and suddenly, “touch me,” you say into his neck, reaching down to usher his hands to your hips, your waist, you. 
Joel gets it then, the silent permission. The it’s okay, and grips you harder, but not as hard as you know he would like. It’s good enough for you because he moves your hips, rocking you up and down onto his length—having enough of the senseless grinding. 
“Fuckin’ good—” Joel groans, your hands fly to his shoulders, his hair. “You feel good.” 
Your legs grow tired, he can tell. You try your best, but you’re sweaty and tired and fucked out, and when he hits a spot deeper inside you that makes you moan out, louder than before, and you almost collapse onto him. He ruts into you a little. Meeting you halfway. Fucking you deeper—maybe even a bit faster. 
Your legs ache and you feel a sheen of sweat wash over both of you. And Joel’s eye is fucked up, his cheek too. Tommy is sitting back at the house—or god knows where—with a possible broken hand, Janet baker is watching Sarah instead of you or Joel, Caroline is still back at the house, and everything is a fucking mess, but it’s so right. He feels so right. He’s — he’s right. 
You’re close then, the coarse hair on him inching you toward your climax. He knows, he can feel it from the inside. You don’t even have to say it this time, your question for his permission. He can see it already braced on your lips but he shuts you up with a kiss, a sloppy one, where he sticks his tongue into your mouth and your walls tighten around him again. 
“Yes,” he says with a moan into your mouth, “yes, yes—ah.”
“Fuck,” you say tightening around him, becoming breathless and boneless, but Joel holds you up. He always does. 
He grips you tighter, like how you know he wanted to, and you relish in the feeling. His thrusts become desperate and you brace yourself on the back of the couch so he can rut up deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. You can’t really breathe. Not when he’s everywhere. 
“Shit,” he says, rocking into you. 
Joel cums hard, holding onto you, wrapping you up in his arms as he groans somewhere near your temple. You let it spread through you, the mess of it all. He keeps you locked in his arms, even when you think he might pull away. 
He finally pulls you off him, when he says it becomes too much and you sit on his lap, playing with his curls. When you both settle from your panting you can’t help but ask.
“What are we gonna do?” you say quietly to him. 
“I dunno,” he grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss. The bruise on his face is turning an ugly shade of purple. And the peas have gone warm, creating a small puddle on the coffee table. And your phone keeps buzzing from the entryway. 
“We’ll figure it out,” he says, running a hand on your thigh. 
_
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luvly-writer · 2 months
Text
XOXO
Ch. 18 Nothing happened in the way i wanted
-•-
Author’s Note: I find it so funny that whenever I come back I release like five chapters then disappear, I love that 😭
Warnings: Mentions of SA and predatory behavior. Beginning of angst.
Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @grandstrangerphanthom @1lellykins @cangosleepnow @dreamspectrum @its-maemain @tamimemo @nightw-izhu @trasshy-artist @gabriiiiiiii @pank0w @writing-for-the-hell-of-it
Masterlist:
-•-
Thud Thud... Thud Thud... Thud Thud...
I could feel my heart in my throat. I took the napkins and kept on twisting them in my hands. I feel Grandma's gaze on me and her hand on mine, stopping me from fidgeting.
"Mona, you are going to be okay. You have constantly gone against your father and you will win once again. Plus, I am right here. Your father won't intimidate me," she reassured you with a smile and a wink. You were both sitting in one of the family rooms in the Vanderbilt manor. You had arrived early and had been served coffee. Your father had been taking his sweet time in arriving, always one for theatrics. You remember a time when this sort of dramatics was used in playing around with your sisters. Charlisse always wanted to be a dragon or a pirate; Aurora presented herself as the princess, the unicorn, I always wanted the mermaid and the adventurer. Our father was always the narrator of our little ploys and we would present them to our mother. He used to be so warm and caring and loving sometimes..but when I got to middle school, after my grandfather's death and the beginning of my sisters' competition for CEO, he grew colder and harsher. I would love for my father to go back to the way he was before...
Snapping me out of my daydream, my father enters the room and sits across from us.
"Margaret." he said curtly and my grandmother looked at him dead in the eye, "William...You look terrible," she responded, causing me to snort a little. Grandma was never one to hold back on my father. She was right though, my father looked horrible. He had eye bags and his clothes looked crumpled, something highly unusual for William Vanderbilt. "It's been a rough few days, Marge" he responded and turned to me.
"Y/n.." he acknowledged me softly and I squeezed my grandmother's had tightly before answering, "Father."
"Shall we?" he gestured to both of us and I nodded. He cleared his throat and began speaking, "Before anything...I am sorry, my sweet dewdrop, for everything I've put you through these last few years...I know this in no shape or form begins to excuse anything I've put this family through but I do want you to understand the big why of everything and maybe we could begin a journey where you could forgive me. I love you, sweetie, I do. Your sisters and you are my pride and joy, my greatest creation, and my proudest achievement. I am deeply sorry I have neglected you all these years in the name of the family business and image. A few years ago, when you were in middle school and my father died, in his will he left very clear and strict instructions on what had to be made. Were they not to be followed, everything that we owned would have been put at risk. You see when I was younger, I was much like you...I had a passion for music and it flowed through every breath I took, I wanted to pursue it freely yet my father disregarded it because someone had to take the mantle of the family business. I rebelled for some time and did whatever I pleased, I had the freedom to do so seeing as the family lineage was important to the old man, and me being an only child, I wouldn't be at risk of getting disowned. The old man...he was....furious and pulled some strings so that no matter what, I would fail so that I would end up back home and submitting to taking the mantle. His plan worked and to avoid risking history from repeating itself, he left clear instructions for you girls so that no one stepped out of line. One of the clauses was that everyone was to be part of the family business, the second was that you all had to be married, and if by the time you were 20, you weren't married, it was the board's obligation to find you a suitable husband. The third was that you all had to keep the best image possible so that you wouldn't drag the family name to the ground...the same way I did years ago...My lawyers have been working on ways to invalidate the clauses for years, Clarisse and Aurora knew how to play within the clauses but you...I'm afraid that with your mother's free spirit and my temperament and rebellion, you proved to be a force too difficult to control. No one knows that more than me. I got so lost trying to not lose everything and please my father who is already in his grave, that I forgot the most important thing, my family. I am so sorry for all the years I have mistreated you, Charli, Rora, and Mom. You deserve so much and it took you showing me how much I am acting like my father to reevaluate my behavior these last years. I promise, I will do my best to mend and better all my wrongs."
You were stuck to your chair...honestly...fuck your grandfather. Everything made more sense now, why you always visited your grandparents when your grandfather was gone, how you'd see your other grandmother more often when he died, why he was never mentioned, the drastic change in your father's behavior after his death...
"I knew there was a reason I never liked the man," said your grandmother with a huff as she took a sip of her glass of wine. This made you and your father laugh.
"What about the clauses...do I still fall under them?" you ask. It was the one thing that still worried you...was Morris still in the picture, did you still have to take a place in the family business, was marrige still an obligation-
"No. A few days ago, my lawyers called me. After retting a meeting with the board after New Year's and discussing the clauses, they were finally able to find a breakthrough. Everyone took to voting and decided that the best outcome was to proclaim them invalid. What are a dead man's wishes but silent demands? You are free, I spoke to Mr. Morris. Which speaking of, I want to clear the air that he was the board's decision. They were pressuring us to choose him seeing as he used to have a clean record." He answered.
"I still don't get why you would allow that roach of a man near your daughter, William! This is worst that a disgrace, he was disgusting!" Margaret grumbled and my father agreed with her.
"You said he had a clean record?" I asked focusing on that weird part.
My father nodded, "Ah yes, a few weeks ago, some information was leaked to our members of the board about sexual assault allegations and predatory behavior in Mr. Morris. After we hired some private investigators, we found most of the information to be true. Tomorrow the board is releasing an official statement of apology directed to you. I am deeply sorry, my dear. I do promise to be better." he said taking my hands in his a giving the a squeeze.
"I am free.." you say softly, and both your grandmother and father smile.
"You are. No competition, no family business, no arranged marriage, you are free to be your own person, kid" he assures. "I am very proud of you, dewdrop. I talked with your grandmother over the phone. Once you finish college this may, both of your trust funds will be officially released to you."
"I can open my art gallery!" you say tearing up and both of them nod proudly. "Time to share the good news with Tim, Mona. I bet he is going to be delighted," Said your grandmother.
Shit...Tim...It has been weeks since you'd answered a message of his. You knew it was unfair to him, to just ghost him out of the blue. You had a good reason too...well as far as good reasoning goes. You hadn't talked with him ever since spending Christmas with him and ignored all of his invitations for New Year's...Your conflict must have been visible in your face because your grandmother rand father looked at you concerned.
"About that..." you say and take a deep breathe.
-•-
You were finally going home to your apartment after the very long day you had. You had confessed...Not to Tim, no... your family. After explaining the whole thing to your grandmother and father, they were conflicted, to say the least. As they were battling with being proud for outsmarting the entire family and media, disappointed for your lying, and concerned for your well-being, your sisters and mother had arrived and were filled in the entire thing. At first, no one wanted to believe you. They reassured me that they couldn't believe it was fake because they swore the love between the two of you looked real. No one could act that well, yet you were in denial. As everyone sat for dinner, they all agreed on one thing, Tim and you were meant to be and clearly in love, but neither of you was seeing it. Your sisters and mother were insistent in your talking with him, but you were in denial. Your father and grandmother tried a different approach by saying how much they approved of him and how he would make a great addition to the family. Still, you saw no sense. You loved Tim, that is true, but you appreciated him as a friend too much. He was your friend, the one who you learned to trust and tell everything, he was the one who had your side any time, he was the one that showed you every movie you had missed, every game you had never played, every story you didn't know. Sure it had only been two months since you met, but he became such a strong part of your life that you weren't sure you wanted to ruin by confessing how much you loved him. Tim was your friend, he was just helping you out, he knew how to play a part well because he had practiced with his double life, he was just playing a part for you. He wasn't...he....didn't...love...no, you didn't even want to think it. Tim was a good guy, Tim loved to help others and he always gave his best for others, that's why he was so convincing, because he is Tim. He is pure and devoted to a good cause. He was Tim, your Timmy, your friend, mine. He was everything, the closest thing you had to twin flame and you didn't deserve and you shouldn't tarnish the purity of that relationship.
Snapping out of your thoughts, you noticed you were about to pass his apartment complex and noticed his lights were on. You told the driver to stop. You were putting an end to this. The driver parks in front and you tell him you will be quick. You step out of the car and run to the lobby. Having been recognized there, they let you up without a problem. Finally, in front of his door, you knock roughly and call him out.
Lo and behold there is Tim Drake in all his glory when he opens the door. He looks more tired than usual, is the first thing you notice. Ever since the two of you started talking, you have been helping him get a better sleeping schedule and his eyebags have lessened by a lot. But now, weeks later, you can tell your absence took a toll on him. His eyes showed he was conflicted. Anger, relief, sadness, tiredness, and something else you couldn't quite put a finger in. (Admiration and love, sweetie, that's what it is)
"Just when I was enjoying my inner peace..was wondering when you'd deem me worthy of your presence again," he said and you flinch at the slight snark and glare he gave you.
"You are angry, rightfully so" you start and he cuts you off, "Really, what gave you that impression?"
"I have a good explanation"
"That so?"
"My father set me free.." you say and his eyes soften a little
"Which means.."
"I don't have to get married, I won't be forced to be part of the family business, I won't have to deal with Morris anymore" you say softly and he nods, pleased.
"That's good angel, still don't get why I had to be ghosted for it. We started this together we should end it together" he stresses and I look down
"I know, its just that...that means that"
"That?" he preassures
"We are over." I finally look up, trying to keep my tears at bay, "And I've been trying to find a way to tell you."
-•-
extras:
Grandma calls Y/n “Mona” because of Mona Lisa
William calls Y/n dewdrop because of her obsession with mermaids when she was a kid
I changed the time line a little bit. Tim and Yn know each other from high school (Gotham Academy), having both been each other’s crushes, but the formally met on November. Spent the last of November and all of december together. She stopped talking to him after christmas and ignored him until the second week of January which is this chapter.
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emmy-everafter · 7 months
Text
We're Gonna Need a Bigger Pentagram
I'm excited to finally reveal the fic I've been working on for this year's @grishaversebigbang --and just in time for spooky season! I was paired with four incredible materialki who created some truly excellent art to accompany the fic. You can check out their work here:
Art by @crypitick
Art by @polekands
Art #1 and Art #2 by @idkchatie
Art by @discountscoobyart
Without further ado, here is the first chapter of We're Gonna Need a Bigger Pentagram!
Fandoms: Six of Crows, Shadow & Bone (TV)
Rating: T
Relationships: Crows as found family (with minor Helnik, Kanej, and Wesper)
Modern/Housemates/Magic AU, Nina POV, Supernatural chosen family shenanigans with a side of humor
Ongoing (Ch. 1 of 6)
Summary: Nina Zenik is a vet med student who's almost done with her clinical rotations... but she's also secretly a very powerful witch. When someone brings a cursed, injured werewolf into the animal hospital, Nina decides to try to save his life, despite the bitter hatred that exists between wolves and witches. She enlists the help of her housemates, Jesper (who's also a witch), Inej (who's fae), and Kaz (who may or may not be a vampire). But breaking this curse requires more than Nina bargained for, and time is running out. Can the Crows save the werewolf before it's too late? More importantly, can they do it under the nose of their all-too-human housemate, Wylan? And--perhaps the most important question of all--will Nina finally get some decent waffles?
Read the first chapter (3k) below or on AO3.
Chapter 1: Why did it have to be werewolves?
(CW for non-graphic mentions of blood & injury, harm to an animal, brief references to drugs [anesthesia, weed])
The thing about werewolves, Nina thought, risking one more glance over her shoulder at the slab of fur trembling in her backseat, was that they didn’t exactly sedate easily.
Although that was probably a good thing, she supposed. If this particular wolf had gone down after the first two tranquilizers, then perhaps she never would have been called back to help, and then she would have been too late to do anything. Did you hear about the wolf? Park ranger brought him in. Hit by a car, probably. Too bad we couldn’t save him. So weird how his body seemed to reject every medication, every suture. Oh well, c’est la vie, back to the horses and the goats.
But he hadn’t gone down, and one of the techs had thundered past, shouting at her to come quick and give us a hand!
When Nina had arrived in the operating room, she knew immediately that this was no ordinary wolf. She could feel the prickle of magic tingling up her spine, could smell the supernatural on him. He was stretched out on a table, a mountain of silvery-gray fur, enormous and blood-soaked, still thrashing feebly even as three techs tried to hold him down.
She froze, staring at the shape of his muzzle, the slope of his ears—just a little off, nothing to notice unless you knew what to look for. His head had flopped over, and for a long moment the werewolf made eye contact with her. Nina let out a soft gasp despite herself, despite the fact that she’d seen shifted wolves a handful of times before. She knew that their eyes always looked so unbearably human, and yet—it caught her by surprise, the moment of recognition when he noticed her, the heartbreak and terror and pain in his expression, the shame.
Nina felt her heart shatter, just a little.
“Zenik, grab the tranq!” one of the techs had shouted at her as the wolf seemed to regain more of his energy, breaking away from her gaze to thrash more earnestly.
She hadn’t bothered to think it through. While there was still some part of her that recoiled like a hissing cat at the presence of a werewolf, some part of her that screamed danger! at the sight of his gleaming fangs that had probably killed countless witches in the past, those instincts had been overwhelmed by the pain in the wolf’s eyes and the knowledge that if she didn’t do something right now, she would have to watch him die.
Her decision was already made, one hand already surreptitiously weaving the spell as she picked up the syringe with the other. She needed to work quickly if she was going to have any chance at all.
She didn’t know much about werewolf biology. The packs were notoriously private, protective of any and all information regarding their own species, but what she did know was that it was incredibly dangerous—impossible, even—for outsiders to treat wolves in their shifted forms. Only pack healers had any hope of actually helping in these sorts of situations. And, of course, the fact that this wolf was shifted right now was another complicating factor in and of itself. It wasn’t a full moon, which meant that something had gone terribly wrong for this wolf to get shift-stuck—some kind of spell, she guessed, judging by the oppressive feeling of magic roiling off his body.
If her colleagues—regular, ordinary human vets who had no idea the supernatural world existed at all—tried to help the wolf, she was certain he’d end up dead in less than an hour. But of course, she’d reminded herself as her enchantment began to take hold, I don’t know how to safely help him, either.
The wolf had finally slumped down onto the table, unconscious… followed by all of the humans in the room, each pausing in the middle of whatever they’d been doing, still standing but otherwise out cold.
Nina had shaken out her wrists, cracked her neck, and started weaving the memory glamour. Her first thought was to make them forget the wolf had come in at all, but that would mean trying to account for the lost time, as well as finding the park ranger later to erase everything for her, too. Removing memories was always trickier anyway—you ran the risk of leaving a gap, an itch that the brain longed to scratch and scratch until it found an answer. Her coworkers might not remember the wolf, but some of them might have an unshakeable sense that something had happened, something strange and noteworthy they couldn’t quite recall, and that meant people might start asking questions, poking and prodding.
No, it would be easier to convince everyone that the wolf had died from his injuries not long after arriving, that his body had already been picked up by wildlife services, that all that anyone needed to do now was complete the requisite paperwork.
It would be quick, shoddy spellwork either way, and she’d probably have to fudge some records in the database during her next shift, but figuring out a plan to save the wolf came first.
The moment the glamour was complete, she’d whipped her phone out, putting the call on speaker so she could keep her hands free.
Genya picked up after three rings. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I need a favor,” she’d said without preamble, maneuvering a trolley over towards the wolf. It had probably taken four people to lift him up onto the table, but Nina had magic and gravity on her side.
“Okay…?” Genya sounded nervous, and given the wild sorts of favors she’d asked for in the past, Nina couldn’t really blame her.
“Can you get in touch with your contact in the Drüskelle pack? Someone brought in a wolf today—one of theirs, most likely—and I can’t do much to help him when he’s shift-stuck like this.”
Genya had taken a moment to process all of that—a shifted, injured werewolf, brought into the East Ketterdam Large Animal Hospital as if he were no different from the farm animals and racing horses they usually treated—then finally said, “I can try.”
“Good. I’m bringing him back to my place. Have them send a healer there.”
Genya hung up right before Nina’s spell slipped under the wolf’s enormous weight, causing him to fall the last few inches down onto the metal trolley with a loud crash. Even unconscious, the wolf whimpered in pain.
“Sorry,” she’d whispered, before turning her attention to the problem of getting to the parking lot without being seen.
And that was how Nina had ended up driving home as fast as she dared with a werewolf bleeding out in her backseat.
Her sleep spell was fairly strong, but she had no idea how long it would last on a creature this large, so she renewed the enchantment at every red light, just in case.
She also called Inej, the normally melodic timbre of her housemate’s voice sounding tinny and distorted when routed through the car’s speakers.
“What’s wrong, Nina?”
“What makes you think anything is wrong?” She drummed her fingers nervously on the wheel and fought the urge to look back at the wolf again. He was still breathing—she could feel it—but she wanted to check anyway. Just in case.
“If nothing was wrong, you would’ve just texted.”
“Maybe I wanted to hear my best friend’s voice.”
“Nina,” Inej sighed, “just tell me.”
Nina huffed in response. “Fine. Look, is everyone at home?”
“I think so? Well, Jesper had some meetings but he’s on his way back here. He said he was gonna stop and pick up pizza for everyone.”
“Okay, if he gets back before me, I need him to start weaving some soundproofing spells in the basement. Go ahead and grab my bestiary and bring it down there, and my potions kit, too. And we’re gonna need lots of towels, as many as you can find. You’ll have to keep Wylan upstairs somehow.”
Nina hit another red light and bit her lip to reign in a frustrated groan. This is taking too long.
“It’s Thursday. Wylan’s probably planning to do his laundry tonight,” Inej replied.
“You’ll just have to think of some excuse. Tell him the machine is broken or something. But he can’t be down there.”
“And why is that, exactly?”
Cars streamed past in front of her, racing endlessly through the intersection, their light still green, Nina’s still red.
Fuck it. She raised her hands over the steering wheel and mumbled the incantation under her breath, improvising the words a little to fit the magic to the stoplight—it was technically a spell meant for turning an ordinary light on and off, but she thought it might work.
For a moment, nothing happened, and Nina worried that perhaps the stoplight mechanism had too many switches and circuits or too many digital parts for her simple spell to have any effect. She’d never been great with technomagic—as a heartrender, blood and bodies were her specialty—and the more something was computerized and complex, the harder it was for her to navigate. But then…
One last flick of her wrist, and the light for the cross traffic went yellow.
“Nina?” Inej’s voice was sharper now, closer to a warning. “What’s going on?”
Green light. Fucking finally.
“Soooo,” she began, her car surging forward again, “I may or may not be bringing work home.”
“If this is another goat, Nina, I swear…”
Nina winced. Once, she’d snuck a dying goat out of the clinic when her coworkers had decided there was nothing left to be done for the poor creature. And when it came to a human understanding of veterinary medicine, perhaps they were correct, but Nina knew she could save him with the spells in her bestiary and the power of her blood magic. She’d known her housemates wouldn’t exactly be thrilled about the situation. What she hadn’tanticipated was Jesper getting attached.
So now, Milo the goat lived in the shed beside the greenhouse, to the immense displeasure of everyone in Crow House except Jesper. When he stayed in his pen, Milo was tolerable, even adorable, but when he escaped—as he did at least two or three times a month—he became a menace, eating anything he could get his nasty little hooves on. So far, Milo’s list of victims included some of Wylan’s sheet music, one of Nina’s astrological grimoires, a pair of Inej’s pointe shoes, three pairs of Kaz’s ridiculously expensive gloves, multiple waffles, an entire carton of wontons, and some of everything that Jesper and Nina grew in the greenhouse out back, including an unholy amount of weed.
“The good news is, it’s not a goat,” Nina said brightly.
Inej heaved a resigned sigh. “And the bad news…?”
“The bad news is that it’s a werewolf.”
“Nina!” Inej groaned.
“He’s dying! And shift-stuck! What was I supposed to do?” Nina took a turn a little too hard, and in the backseat, the wolf slid and hit his muzzle against the door. Shit.
“What can you even do? You can’t treat a shifted wolf.”
“I know!” Her fingers clenched around the wheel. “Look, it’s temporary, okay? I’ve already called a friend who has contacts in the local pack. They’ll send someone to help and then it won’t be our problem anymore. We just need to keep him stable until the healer comes.”
Inej was quiet on the other end for a long moment. Eventually, she said, “Fine. I’ll see what towels I can find.”
Nina blew out her breath, relieved. “Thank you. I’ll be there in fifteen. It might be good to have some blood on hand, if Kaz has any. And make sure Wylan…”
“Yeah, I’ll keep him upstairs,” Inej interrupted. “See you soon.”
The call disconnected. Nina pressed a thumb to her temple where a headache had already started to build, rubbing the pad of her finger into the skin and releasing a small thread of magic to chase the pain away.
She knew Inej was irritated with her, but at least Nina could trust that her best friend would be on board with helping an injured creature. Inej was kind like that—compassionate, always empathetic with the pain of others. She wouldn’t just let the wolf die, even if taking him in was inconvenient in a number of ways. And Jesper probably wouldn’t mind much either. He was always down for Nina’s wild and unexpected shenanigans, as long as no harm came to his friends or to his precious hats. If all went well, Wylan would never know anything was happening. But Kaz…
Kaz is going to absolutely hate this.
The situation ticked off almost every box on the list of things Kaz didn’t like: last-minute surprises, strangers in his space, unnecessary risks, sticking his neck out for other people, making Nina happy. And while most decisions in Crow House were made democratically, Kaz remained resolutely in charge of the chore schedule, which he enforced by subtly reminding his housemates that he could drain all the money from their bank accounts—and possibly all the blood from their bodies—in the blink of an eye. Nina had a feeling there would be a lot of toilet scrubbing in her future.
She was only a few minutes away from home when her phone rang again.
“I managed to get in touch with the pack,” Genya said when she picked up.
Immediately, Nina could hear something cautious in her tone, something grim. “And?”
“They’re not sending anyone.”
“Why the hell not?” Without meaning to, Nina found herself nearly shouting.  
“Nina…”
She didn’t have to see Genya’s face to know what expression she wore in that moment—Nina had seen it too many times during her years with the Grisha to ever forget, not just from Genya but from everyone. Zoya’s infuriatingly calm voice echoed through her head, shaming her, as always, for being too fucking much, for acting recklessly from a place of emotion rather than trying to be reasonable. Slow down, Nina. Get ahold of your anger. Control yourself.
And as always, it only served to make her even more enraged.
“They’re the only ones who can help him! Are they really just going to let one of their own die?”
Genya sighed. “Yes, that’s exactly what they’re going to do. In fact, I think it was their goal all along.”
“What?” she screeched, stomping on the brakes in her anger.
Luckily, there was no one on the street behind her, although the wolf did slide forward a bit on the backseat, letting out another heart-wrenching whimper of pain.
“The guy I spoke to was being cagey about it, but I think I pieced most of the story together. The wolf is called Matthias Helvar, and the Drüskelle exiled him from their pack about a month ago.”
“Why?” Nina made no move to start driving forward again, not trusting herself to keep control of the car in that moment.
“I’m not sure. It sounds like he broke pack law, screwed up badly enough that they not only kicked him out but also cursed him.”
Cursed? Nina glanced over her shoulder at the shivering, unconscious wolf, covered in congealing blood that clumped in his fur and stained the fabric of the seat below him, and she suddenly understood.
“That’s why he’s shift-stuck,” she murmured, shocked by the cruelty of it.
“From what I gather, it’s some kind of… werewolf reversal? Where he’s only in his human form on the full moon and stays shifted the rest of the time, instead of the other way around. Apparently, he followed one of their hunting parties down to Ketterdam and was trying to sneak into their camp. When they chased him off, he ran onto the highway and got hit by a semi-truck.”
“So they already knew he was injured?”
Genya’s voice was quiet when she replied, “Nina, they left him for dead.”
Nina knew all too well what it was like to be betrayed and abandoned by the people who were supposed to be your family, but this… She shook her head, angry tears pricking at her eyes. This wolf—this Matthias—had been exiled, cursed, and left to die on the side of a highway by his own pack. Surely, no transgression against Drüskelle law was awful enough to merit that kind of punishment, right?
Faint memories of her lessons at the Little Palace began to trickle in—diagrams in textbooks illustrating the cold, draconian hierarchies of the Northern packs, lectures about wolf culture that devolved into tirades about the Drüskelle’s violent attempts to destroy not only the Grisha organization, but all witches everywhere, fueled by their hypocritical ideology that saw werewolves as the next step in evolution but witches as an unnatural abomination to be cleansed from the earth like a plague. The wolves are not like us, she remembered hearing, over and over. They did not come from the Other Realm but instead began as humans, and like humans, they cannot be trusted.  
Nina had spent the past few years trying to unlearn the prejudice and cynicism instilled in her at the Little Palace, with varying levels of success, but now, she wondered if perhaps they’d been right about some things.
“What are you going to do?” Genya asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied, trying—and likely failing—not to sound too murderous. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Just remember that he’s a wolf, Nina.”
“Does that mean he deserves to die?” she snapped in response.
“No, but he probably thinks that you do, just by virtue of existing as a witch. He may not want your help, and even if you do somehow manage to save him, he might very well kill you in your sleep instead of saying thank you.”
Nina knew she was probably right, and yet… This is why I left—so I could help everyone, not just the people that the Grisha think are worth saving.
“I can handle myself. And I’m not going to sink to their level. Unlike some people, I’m not obsessed with only protecting my own kind.”
With that, Nina hung up and disconnected the phone from the car’s bluetooth, and then, for good measure, put her phone on silent and tossed it into her bag in the passenger seat. She knew she wasn’t being fair, especially since Genya was one of the only people in the Grisha still willing to help her now that she’d gone independent. But it was hard not to be angry when she could hear Matthias’s heartbeat fluttering dangerously just a few feet behind her, could feel his nerves sparking with pain, knowing that his own family had let it happen, caused it to happen, because of one mistake.
It was hard not to relate—even if that meant empathizing with a damn werewolf.  
A sudden honk behind her reminded Nina that she was still stopped in the middle of the road.
“Alright, I’m going! Saints.” She finally lifted her foot from the brake and got the car moving again, squeezing the wheel tightly to stop her hands from trembling. Her headache was already coming back—she’d probably need to take one of those human painkillers when she got home and conserve her magical energy for… well, for whatever it was going to take to help this wolf.
Maybe Matthias wouldn’t want her help. Maybe he would try to attack her (although in that case, she could always sic Kaz on him). Maybe she wouldn’t be able to do anything at all and the wolf would die in their basement amongst the piles of Jesper’s dirty laundry and Inej’s sweat-soaked practice mats.
But Nina Zenik had never once backed down from a challenge. She’d been top of her class in vet school for three years in a row and was the best heartrender the Little Palace had seen in more than a century—even Zoya had admitted it. And if there was any chance at all of saving this wolf, nothing in this realm or the next could stop Nina from trying…
Not even her housemates. 
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I've just finished chapter 9 of Open Heart Second Year and wanted to share my thoughts at the halfway point (ch 10-11 are another world entirely). It's a long post and probably repeats all the arguments that have been made since the original release...but I'm gonna post anyway.
When Second Year started, I couldn't decide which romance route to take. I genuinely restarted the first chapter several times, but EVENTUALLY I settled on Ethan. And...I got bored. He was there all the time and I just didn't feel anything like I did in book 1 (the opera scene had me in a chokehold for a while). Meanwhile, Raf had apparently broken up with MC and had a new partner which was leaving me intrigued on how it would go (sweet naivety before I saw the ch 10 draft). So during the first hiatus, between ch 8-9, I replayed the whole lot for Rafael.
The difference is stark. For two people who aren't allowed to be together, MC and Ethan sure ended up spending a lot of time alone together. They sure held hands a lot. MC sure had a lot of extra flirty dialogue. Yet Rafael appears briefly every couple of chapters to talk about how he would risk his life for another (I should have seen the signs sooner) then disappears back to his new partner that we still know nothing about. Most of the pining for Rafael was in my imagination and personal interpretation of the scenes.
Players were willing to justify this with 'Ethan is our boss' and 'we work on the same team so obviously they will spend time together'. Bryce and Jackie are our best friends or partners, Jackie is our freaking ROOMMATE and we don't see them at all?
Furthermore, we have two brand new characters in June and Baz and barely spent any time with them because Ethan had to be front and centre. I would have happily spent diamonds to get to know either of them one-on-one. But no...
An idea: instead of Ethan having a professional diamond scene every chapter (patient's house visit, visiting the art gallery, making a pictagram account), this is where June or Baz come in. Especially if Ethan also had a personal diamond scene in the chapter. Open Heart was popular because of its diverse cast after all (including Ethan, yes, but there was someone for everyone in book 1).
FURTHER furthermore, one of the 'plots' of this book was MC teaching their own intern, Esme Ortega. And we had a diamond scene to take her with us on Diagnostic work, a diamond scene to mentor her around six chapters later, and...a few quick scenes of MC giving her some work to do. That's it. Because even though being a mentor is part of MCs job, it's not nearly as important as Ethan's screen time.
I've played all four romance routes, and obviously Ethan's had the most content (his romance route v platonic route is night and day!!). Raf's route was completely empty to the point where it made sense to me that MC was in the hospital with Ethan all the time because they didn't want to spend their free time sitting at home nursing a broken heart. But Bryce and Jackie's routes had no reason for that. There's almost no reason to play the chapters without them and it's no surprise their fans started dropping away. All the signs pointed to one LI being killed off, but the other two didn't have anything to hope for either so why stick around?
Chapter 8 is the baseball game and we get to spend time with Bryce and Keiki, AND practice baseball with some friends. Probably the most friend group content we saw since the chapter 5 music festival. I enjoyed being rude to Landry (again, my MC is too stressed and upset at this point to spend energy being nice to him) but I didn't like how my response to him determined how the two sides interacted. Just because I'm rude to Landry doesn't mean I don't want to meet Sienna's med school friends at Kenmore. We then get to go back with Ethan for dinner or go home alone. I don't suppose it would have killed PB to put some kind of friend group scene in as an alternative? They did in book 1...
Chapter 9 is where the emotions really pick up as we have Kyra's cancer getting worse. Man, I love well-written angst. When MC is overwhelmed and has to calm down in a supply closet they are discovered by...June. Who at this point is becoming the villain (despite the fact this plot line would have only made sense if you were romancing 1/4 LIs).
Another idea: we get to choose which LI discovers us, just like in book 1! We could have a rare moment of softness with Jackie because it kills her that she can't help the situation. It could have been the catalyst for Bryce to look into radical gore-tex surgeries as a last resort. Or we could have had a painful heart-to-heart with Rafael, maybe MC being standoffish because he's their ex or open and desperately wishing Raf could comfort them as before. The possibilities are endless, but we can't waste time (or money) on those guys.
Speaking of Rafael, this is the infamous chapter ending:
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Like a punch in the heart. But possibly what hurt more was the fact that chapter 10 opened with - of all things - a time jump to a few days later with the Senator coming to Edenbrook!! Because that's the Diagnostic team which is the only thing that matters! In fact, Rafael isn't mentioned until around two thirds of the way through when the narration - of all things - casually mentions that he is in fact moving to BRAZIL. More fool me, I thought he was just moving to another state, but no. Another freaking country. There is no way that would have been an easy conversation, especially on his romance route, but it's yet another conversation that happens OFF-SCREEN for the reader to be hastily informed later.
Book 2 began with a recap that omitted Rafael completely, despite the fact his superhero complex was going to be 'plot point' of book 2. Luckily he does appear in the next recap but this scene has been retconned with him saying 'I'm moving to Brazil' (if I remember to get a screenshot of that later, I'll post it).
PB tried to justify all this with 'Open Heart is a mature story...exploring themes of heartbreak and loss' (and some players will still believe that), but it never was. If it was, we would have seen the break-up between MC and Rafael, we would have been able to talk with Raf about his suspension in detail and how it was affecting him, and we would have SEEN THIS VERY CONVERSATION. But all the resources went into Ethan and his parents, Ethan and his morals, Ethan cooking a chicken.
I get it, he was a big moneymaker. I myself contributed once upon a time. But that doesn't justify throwing out the rest of your characters. (My school sold out my year group to get some money, and in doing so lost all credibility with a generation of girls). Like I said before, Open Heart was good because of ALL it's characters that we had grown to love and PB now wanted to chuck those out. Unless a LI had absolutely 0% interest, you write for them or you don't put them in the story (and we all know where that leads us: single LI books). Why alienate Bryce, Raf and Jackie romancers when, for all you know, they might be Sam Dalton's biggest fans? (The biggest book I can think of that was releasing at the same time as Open Heart). This whole thing was a stupid, stupid decision by PB and it has nothing to do with Rafael.
I hope there were people on the OH team who knew this was a bad idea from the start. I hope the higher-ups started sweating at the reactions to Sora and the ending to chapter 9, and I hope the smart ones on the team felt unbelievably smug about being right.
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Far Horizons - Ch. 1 (Tsu'teyXfem!oc Avatar fic) regular posts on wattpad
Introduction to my fic I've been regularly updating on wattpad. Just wanna get a feel hereee; my wattpad user is indirys :)
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WARNING: mentions of violent things that might be uncomfortable for some readers.
THE cities on earth were nothing near what she'd been told they'd once been, somewhere around seventy years or so in the past when they didn't meld into one another to form mega urban areas that stretched a crossed states. She'd been told that once, cities had only ranged within a certain mileage in any direction, with some definite end that eventually turned in what they called suburbs and country.
Things that remained as words alone now. Those no longer existed on earth. If any area was not occupied by living spaces or corporate facilities or any other necessary establishment, they were used for facilitating the production of food. If it could be called that. Most of the "food" grown in these areas was so genetically modified and typically lab grown that it brought a different slew of problems to the worlds population in the form of health risks and shortened life spans.
Such congested living brought worse dangers. Being a woman was far from safe, not if you couldn't afford proper protection. The black market alone brought the risk of being kidnapped to have ones organs taken, while the human-trafficking 'industry' had grown bold enough that the UN no longer fought against it. Corporations ran earth now and laws were often far too grey to entirely justify.
Ruth would have rather found herself dead than remain on earth for the entirety of her life. Somehow, the 'most hostile environment known to man' was more preferred than the shell that humanity calls home still.
The last tether she had to her home was long gone by now with the death of her grandfather, who'd passed shortly before she was due to ship off for her six year long trip a crossed the stars.
The only significant figure in her life, Ruth had nothing else to fight for, nothing else to put all of her focus and efforts to stay afloat toward. She still grieved for him every day, but the transition to life on Pandora had been almost effortless because of his absence.
Ruth could remember the suffocating dreadfulness of living in the cities of earth. Cramped, heavily trafficked, dirty beyond belief and not a hint of fresh air or true green in sight. Those factors alone had been enough to convince her getting through college was worth it, that the years she spent busting her ass even in high school would send her somewhere better. It had been the truth.
After graduating at the age of seventeen and immediately pursuing her dream of a doctorate in biology and picking up complex xenobotany, somehow, someway, Ruth Carson scored a gig with the Avatar program, one that ninty-nine percent of trainee intakes failed. The program funded by the Resource Development Administration.
Nightmares of her life on earth had chosen to appear in her sleep the night prior.
Whenever the memories of the life she left behind came up, she'd often wake to a feeling of dread, thinking she'd somehow never left earth for Pandora.
She sat up from her pillow with a groan, the rough, not-so-much to her liking bedsheets gathering on her lap. She rubbed away the sleep from her eyes and gazed with squinted vision around the small room she'd called home for a little over three years.
As barren and dull as the living quarters she'd been given had been when she first arrived, she'd managed make it hers. A few gifts from the Na'vi made it more colorful, including a tapestry, a decorative piece of jewelry far too large for her human body to wear and a few drawings the children from Grace's school house had given her, drawn in crude crayon. Little gifts she cherished more than any of her other personal belongings.
Pulling away the sheets, Ruth forced herself from the bed and padded along the cold floor over to where her sink stood against the wall, a small mirror reflecting her face as she flicked the light on.
Green eyes, ash blonde hair. As much as she was appreciative of her jovial looks at the age of thirty-three and often stressed, Ruth lamented her desire to be in her avatar body. For good.
Her other body was far stronger, more lithe and attuned to the moon she now called home. Her contract with the RDA called for a five and half year trip both ways to get to and from Pandora, as well the minimum six year length of her work on its own.
She was still trying to find a way to never leave. The extend her stay on the moon indefinitely, if that were a thing. Corporate was strange about its rules, apparently.
After promptly washing her face, brushing her hair and securing it into a braid, Ruth donned her typical outfit of any workday: cargo pants, usually of the black or green variety, a t-shirt, and her lab coat. She found that the tactical boots the army grunts wore were far more comfortable than she'd ever expected, therefore she'd tactfully acquired some for herself.
Just as she was beginning to leave the room, she halted at the doorway as her eyes caught the photo she cherished yet lamented over. A picture with a handful of the Omaticaya children, grinning and embracing her as they'd taken a photo at the school Grace had started.
It was closed now. She didn't like thinking about it.
Continuing out into the hall of the dormitories, Ruth navigated the many halls that would eventually lead her to the bio-lab, where she worked everyday.
Along the way, she snatched a mug of creamed coffee and a muffin from the cafeteria before finally making her way into ambient glow of the tech and other light producing items in the lab.
They were supposed to launch some new avatars that day, she recalled after the debrief the day prior.
"Dr. Carson?" An unfamiliar voice said, causing her to turn mid-sip of her coffee, the lip of the cup still against her lips.
It was a tall lanky man, brown hair and weird-looking beard. At his side, a man in a wheel chair looked up at her. Military cut and all, she immediately knew this guy had to be prior service, if the USMC symbol on his t-shirt hadn't already given it away.
"Yes?" She asked, lowering the coffee cup. The one standing was likely one of the new arrivals, but the wheelchair bound one she unsure of.
"Norm Spellman, I'm one of the new lab intakes. I've read your studies on Pandoran fauna and other. . ." He paused as the man at his side gave him a look as if to cut the long introductions and gushing admiration. "Sorry. We're both avatar drivers. We were told to report to you," he stated, referring to him and the man in the wheelchair at his side.
"I don't recall hearing about a paraplegic in the manifest," Ruth muttered as she set her coffee and muffin on the nearest flat surface and crossed her arms. She looked between them both with raised brows.
"Sorry for the inconvenience that I'm not my brother," the man in the wheelchair said icily to her. Fair enough. "He couldn't make it."
A stroke of worry hit Ruth as she finally realized it had been Tom Sully that had been projected to arrive today. They'd been colleagues in school, but after he'd chosen to pursue becoming some deeper training that included a more intensive dive into xenolinguists, Tom stayed back on earth for a while longer before she went into cryo and made her trip through the stars. She had been vaguely informed at one point or another that he had a twin brother. Ruth hadn't seen him since.
"What happened to Tom?" She asked more gently this time, after internally regretting her prior rudeness.
"He was jumped. Didn't survive the scrap," Tom's twin replied bluntly, lip thin.
Hit with a wave of momentary sorrow, Ruth collects herself and nods with a frown. Her heartbeat reflected her reaction to her old friend's death, quick and dizzying. "Tom was a great guy. Top of our class. My condolences…?"
"Jake," he finished for her, finally giving her his name.
"Well," she sighed. "I'm Ruth, as you already know. Feel free to use it, but Carson works fine as well. Now, as for the avatars," she beckoned them to follow her deeper into the bio-lab. The change in subject would hopefully change the atmosphere that had settled over the three of them.
They made their way toward the massive embryonic tanks that held the large bodies of the avatars that were for Jake and Norm, which they would be taking out for their first drive likely by morning.
Stopping near the tank that held Tom's avatar, Ruth frowned as she gazed on its features.
He'd been a good friend to her in the years they were in school and the sight of Jake being the uncannily identical twin he was made it harder to believe he was actually gone.
She watched a moment as Jake looked at the floating body, entirely intrigued by what he saw. She couldn't blame him, it would be expected of anyone. The first time anyone saw what Pandora had to offer was amusing in itself.
"Looks like him," Jake half muttered, a look of grief clouding his eyes as he watched the body twitch in the synthetic amniotic fluid of the tank.
"Looks like you," Ruth corrected him. "This is your avatar now."
Jake turned to look up to her. "I take it you have one too?"
Ruth grinned, pleased as she thought on it. "Of course. I'll be meeting you two on the outside once you've run through all of your diagnostic tests. After that, we'll take sometime to get you familiarized with everything." She crossed her arms, her shoulder resting against the glass of the tank Jake's avatar floated in. "Now tell me, how does a marine end up in a multi-billion dollar program? Did you pursue a degree or something? Was there a particular reason beyond saving the money they'd spent on this avatar to bring you out here?"
Jake shook his head. "I was a dumb drunk before they approached me. I was told I can link with Tommy's avatar, I guess. Probably just didn't want to waste the money, like you said."
Ruth nodded as she began to realize what he meant. "Identical DNA, all that nonsense. It checks out." Jake nodded with a weak smile before looking back to his avatar.
Ruth sighed, saying, "Either way, Jake, you're the only one that can link with this avatar. It's up to you now not to let this five-billion dollar project go to waist," he gave her a look that suggested she'd put the weight of the world in his hands and she smiled. "Consider yourself very lucky, marine. But go get some rack while you can. I'm sure that flight in early this morning was rough. The change in atmospheric pressure can have some affects on you. You'll get to have your fun tomorrow."
"For sure, Doc," Jake nodded. "I'll see you in the morning. But I'll hopefully be blue."
"You'll need a link chamber for that, guy," she jabbed jokingly and smirked before retreating toward the direction she'd left her coffee and muffin, beginning to leave Jake where he sat in front of the giant tank. "I'm just interested in you meeting Grace."
"Who's Grace?" He asked after.
Ruth chuckled as she began to disappear further into the bio-lab. "Oh, you'll see."
•••
EYES fluttering open, Ruth sat up in the cot she'd put her avatar to sleep in the night prior.
Today, they'd be integrating Jake and Norm into the avatar bodies. She was curious to see how they'd react, particularly the marine. Someone who had no training whatsoever for anything he was about to participate in. Some part of her was amused to see how things panned out.
She grinned to herself as she pushed herself up, shoving her long braid to her back and stretching her long limbs before swinging her legs to the wooden floor. She snatched her boots as she got to her feet, making her way to where she would change into day clothes. With her tail flicking behind her, she strode down the rows of beds of the other avatars, sighing contently.
She was always far happier in this body than the other. It felt familiar. Felt right.
Upon exiting the sleep shack, to her surprise, she finds that Jake, still in his medical gown, is just a crossed the small lot with Grace once she steps out into the light of day. A rough start indeed, it seemed. His tail was flicking in excitement before he caught sight of her. She smirks, wandering over. His ears peek at her presence, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Someone seems excited," Ruth chuckled to Grace, who shared the same amused expression. "And still in a gown."
"He came running out from the medical bay within minutes of completing the link like a damn lunatic," Grace exclaimed to Ruth with a smirk, the beads of her braided strands of hair clinking against each other at her cheeks. "What a maniac."
Ruth recalled her first link with her avatar, the most exciting moment in her life. The exhilaration had been unlike anything she'd ever experienced. She couldn't blame Jake, yet he had decided to run out half naked.
"She was not excited to meet me once you left the lab," Jake said to Ruth, a shit-eating grin on his face.
"I'll admit I'm quite pissed to see Selfridge decided to send a grunt to my avatar program, but I suppose preventing the waste of viable resources works for now," Grace exclaimed with a roll of her eyes.
"Now you see what I meant about meeting Grace," Ruth taunted Jake. She looked him up and down, gesturing to him. "How does it feel? Your new body." She was sure it was liberating to be walking again.
"Amazing," Jake replied grinning, an enthusiasm about him she hadn't seen the day before. Already, there was evident difference in his demeanor. Like a fire had ignited again inside him after so long.
"Dr. Carson here is going to help get you get situated for today," Grace told Jake as she crossed her arms, gesturing with a nod toward to other woman at her side. "I'll help out Norm."
"We've just got to do a few things to get you attuned to your new body," Ruth told him. "I'll get him taken care of, Grace. Come on, Jake."
Leaving Grace to take Jake back toward the avatar dorms, Ruth brought them to the jungle hut she'd just woken up in. As they entered, she lead him toward the storage room that had all of the extra avatar clothing and items, specially made considering their size.
"So, how did you know Tommy?" Jake asked as she began rummaging through the folded clothing, finding male specific shirts and pants for him to keep, along with underwear, socks, and two pairs of boots. She grabbed a few other articles along with a backpack before turning back to him.
"We were in the avatar program together. Different classes and I was ahead of him but we still trained together. I graduated before him so I was due to leave earlier," she sighed as she put the large pile of clothing into his arms, yellow eyes turning toward the ground. "I shipped off well before he did. I expected him here yesterday, actually."
Jake frowned, ears pinned back as he nodded. The use of his physical features betraying how he felt. "Yeah, me too."
"Tom was a great guy. I'm truly sorry for your loss," Ruth said to him sincerely.
Jake shrugged. "After almost six years in cryo, the time has passed. So will the grief."
"Time passed is not grief processed," she told him gently, to which he simply gave a tight nod.
She understood he likely wasn't up for talking on his brother much. She couldn't blame him. When he grandpa had passed shortly before her ship date, she'd grown numb too. And dealt with the grief in due time.
"To think, a marine in an avatar body," Ruth breathed a laugh to lighten the mood. "Never thought I'd see that combination. A deadly one at that. Perhaps you'll make an effective guard while we're in the field gathering samples."
"A five-billion dollar body guard?" Jake smirked as Ruth returned the smile and made her way past him into the hall. He followed.
"What other purpose would you have?" She asked as she strode toward the door leading outside. "Get yourself out of that gown. We've got things to do, marine."
Making her way toward the wrap around porch of the hut, Ruth left Jake smiling where he was, smiling while gripping his pile of new avatar-sized clothes.
•••
SURPRISED with Jake's efficiency in mastering the functions of a body he'd spent less than a day in, Ruth took him through an assortment of obstacles to help him gain awareness of senses and balance he didn't have before. She always marveled at the small, minute differences between the hybrid avatars and the Na'vi, their stride and movement, the five fingers per hand and toes per foot. His muscle tone would grow more than the average Na'vi over time thanks to the intermingled human DNA, helping him appear less lanky and small.
Ruth had watched Jake scale a rock wall, take a few laps around the exercise track and run through some basics of the fauna and flora of Pandora before they would venture beyond the safety of the barbwire walls and automated defense systems in the coming days.
Perhaps she was getting too much of a kick out of getting to tell a military dog what to do considering the real work would start tomorrow. They'd fly out to the field sites to gather some more sample and run some tests, with Jake pulling his watch over them for safety. She did appreciate the piece of mind.
Dinner had been leisurely, the avatars gathering under the dining pavilion where dinner was served by some of kitchen staff, humans. Ruth remained amused as she watched Jake look down on those serving their food, likely still intrigued by the height difference between them and normal people.
Grace was sure to introduce both Jake and Norm to everyone during their first dinner before they would put the avatars in the safety of their cots. Afterwards, dinner would be served again, only this time to their human bodies.
Showing Jake and Norm to the cots that would now be designated to their avatars, Ruth crossed her arms and leaned to one hip. Her tail flicked behind her in slight impatience as she waited for them to get situated.
"Waking up will be the same as when you initialized the link. Just clear your mind. Falling asleep works too. After that, we'll get you out of the link room and headed to dinner."
"Second dinner," Jake smirked as he lied his head the pillow on his cot.
"What time tomorrow will we be leaving for the field?" Norm asked her from where he lied halfway up on a propped elbow, the excitement evident in his sparkling yellow eyes.
She smirked. "0630, be at the bio lab ready to link. Afterwards, you'll get all your stuff ready here and we'll catch a flight out. Simple as that."
Norm nodded in excited understanding and Ruth bid them both a good nights rest before making her way toward her own cot. Once lying with her queue arranged comfortably for her to sleep, she found herself finding the most comfortable spot to doze off before finally drifting to the darkness that would send her back to her human body.
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bonesandthebees · 11 months
Note
The heat’s melting my brain a bit, so I’m just going to skip most of the rest of the chapter and pray I find the energy to go back to it at some point, because there’s some great mental shifting in there, my brain’s just not having it.
Anyway, the political reveal. This one is very interesting for a few reasons. 1. It catapults Wilbur straight into political mode. That’s been his life for 10 years and he’s instantly able to put together what Schlatt’s doing. Of course this is because Wilbur knows how he works. He probably knows his thought pattern better than anyone else with all the vision meetings and Schlatt brushing him off. It’s also a fun way to give us more exposition. We get to know something serious is happening, but we don’t know what.
2. The Deathlings plan to make use of this. Whether it’s using the chaos or making new allies. This is an opportunity for them. And 3. Wilbur doesn’t care. He’s supposed go be Clara’s vessel and aid the empower for the good of the country, but Schlatt never listened and now Wilbur doesn’t even have the opportunity to tell him should he get a vision about this. He feels no responsibility. In fact, he’s so angry at Schlatt he feels no guilt or worry. It’s such a stark difference to the first chapter, where Wilbur was constantly stressed out about the Deathling attack and Schlatt not listening.
Now the question of course is what would happen if he got a vision. If it’s one that’s good for the Deathlings, he’s probably going to keep his mouth shut and maybe have a crisis. Though the real crisis would be if he gets a vision that’s bad for the Deathlings (if Clara would even give him one of those). That would be full mental mayhem. The question would then also be if the Deathlings would believe him if he did somehow tell them. Or if they would think it was a ploy to get them to not attack. It would be fun, but this is all speculation, so alas, you can not answer.
Also, genuine question now that I brought up chapter 1. Do the Deathlings know that Wilbur had a vision of the night of the ball? I know he had a big explosion about Schlatt not listening, but I don’t remember if he brought up that specific vision. Actually, I’m not even sure if Tommy knows that. Tommy is the only one who knows about the vision the night Wilbur ran, I think? Which is part of why he’s so confident Wilbur won’t run without a vision. Though he can never be sure Wilbur didn’t have one. (At least, that’s what Phil would argue in that situation.
-🌲
I'm so sorry you're suffering in the heat spruce manifesting cool breezes for you soon
YUP wilbur actually does know his politics in this! he's been involved with them for the past ten years so of course he's got a pretty good idea of how this stuff works, and more importantly, he knows how schlatt works. I've definitely been wanting to get more into talking about the political situation outside the temple, but I just haven't been able to until we got to a point where phil felt he could say that to wilbur and not put things at risk. but even then, he's not telling wilbur everything.
the deathlings are certainly going to take advantage of this situation :)
wilbur doesn't even realize the choice he's making by not caring about what's going on. technically, according to his duties, clara wants to keep their country as safe as can be and it's wilbur's responsibility to see that through. wilbur not caring is just another sign of how much he's changed since he got there.
yes that's all very fun speculation but nothing I can comment on </3 good thoughts though!
yes, wilbur actually did let it slip that he had a vision of the ball at one point! it happened back in ch 11, when wilbur, niki, jack, tommy, and techno were all chatting and techno started grilling wilbur about what was going on in the palace. and yes, in that conversation wilbur did explicitly say he had a vision about the night of the ball and schlatt refused to listen to him about it. however, you're right about tommy being the only person who knows that wilbur had a vision when he tried to kill him. no one else knows that except him.
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annwayne · 11 months
Text
The Red Logs: Return to the Temple Ch. 15
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Chapter 15: The Mess
Last Chapter <- -> Next Chapter
Fem!OC X Crosshair
Word Count: 2225
Fic Summary:
There are benefits to owning a clone bar. Underworld lords don’t threaten you to pay for protection. Clones are great company. And the drinks taste great. However, there are also risks to owning a clone bar. Like, for example, becoming the fuck buddy of a special clone task force member so your life gets threatened when a Separatist puts out a bounty for your capture in order to use you as blackmail. Also your sleep schedule gets wrecked. But Anya Tougt is a little more capable than an average bar owner.
Ao3 Link Here
Warnings apply to whole fic:
Canon typical violence, descriptions of panic attacks, alcohol, swearing, 18+ themes (eventual smut), trauma, religious trauma parallels, mild gore
Authors Note:
Laughing at the title of this chapter. Didn't even see the double meaning when I picked it. Got another chapter finished so another chapter gets published. Even though I had told myself I wouldn't post another chapter till the whole fic was finished, well I didn't expect there to be another chapter to write. So in my defense, I've got yet another chapter to write before the fic is done... Also yeah, there will be a series. This story is no where near done. (Well, this part of the story is near done but-you know what I mean.)
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25 BBY. Unrest has sent several Jedi Masters and their Padawans out into the galaxy, but Tali requested we stay on Coruscant. When I asked why, she told me she doesn’t agree with making Jedi into enforcers. But, isn’t that what we’ve always done?
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Eventually, I found the mess hall. Bacta always made my stomach flip, but for a place to hunker down away from Kenobi I was willing to stand the stench of what they considered food on these ships. The clones left me alone, though their confusion was tangible through the force. The thought snapped my spine up. I hadn’t noticed emotions so strongly through the force in years. A glance through the clones confirmed that none of them were overtly high emotionally–something that’s easier to detect. Now it was tangible. Almost visible, but not like looking at something with my eyes. More like looking with my mind.
“Annie,” A voice calling out to me pushed away my thoughts. “We’ve been looking all over for you!” Wrecker waved at me as I glanced up from my hands to see four men walking my way. “We stopped by the general’s quarters, but he had no idea where you went.”
“Neither did I.” Irritation crossed my arms and brought a furrow to my brow. But then Wrecker’s expectant look forced a smile on my face. “Am I right to guess that you had a hand in this new look?” With flourish, I stood and gestured towards the new armor on my body.
“Yeah!” Wrecker grinned ear to ear. “If you’re going to be working with us, you shouldn’t look like a reg.”
“Oh?” Behind him I caught Tech’s hazel eyes watching me before flicking back down to his tablet. While the effort was appreciated, I hadn’t told Tech I was completely on board with his plan. He didn’t look back up. “So, Tech told you…?” I slowed my words hoping one of them would fill in the details I was unaware of.
Wrecker sat across from me, while Tech took the seat beside me.“That you asked Obi-Wan for assignments with us more often! In a way, that makes you our Jedi!”
“Not that we need one.” Crosshair sat beside Wrecker, giving his brother a light shove with his elbow in jest.
Hunter sat down beside him, exhaustion clearly written under his eyes. He said nothing, instead opting to shovel mush into his mouth. All the others had a similar tray of food before them.
“Already eat?” Crosshair asked.
I shook my head. “Bacta makes even the most appetizing food unappetizing…” With one hand I waved towards their trays. “That’ll require a stronger stomach.”
“So you came to the mess to sit around?” Again, the gravelly voice questioned me.
Beside me Tech shuffled. Wrecker watched me between bites. Hunter didn’t pay us any attention.
“Wanted to stretch my legs.” My arms crossed as I leaned back on the thin bench that made up the seating at the table. “Don’t usually feel so stiff after a night in the bacta tank.” I rolled my shoulders for emphasis.
The clones exchanged glances.
“What?” I leaned forward and uncrossed my arms.
“You were in the tank for three days.” Beside me, Tech answered with that attentive voice he gets when someone doesn’t know something. “Did General Kenobi not inform you of the complications with your healing?”
“What?” I had rushed off to the refresher for a bath before either the medical droid watching over me or Obi-Wan could get a word in. When I finally got out… “We had other things to discuss.”
“How’d you think we had the time to get your armor painted? Took two days of free time to do it.” Wrecker grinned at their accomplishment. “Another day just for Tech to round up the pieces.”
The lost time started to dawn on me as I recalled my stiff joints and the extra strong scent of bacta. “Complications?” The question was more or less rhetorical, but Tech was at the table.
“You were much worse off than I estimated.” Tech’s eyes avoided my own as a thin frown set on his face. “Due to your lucidness, I thought the injuries did not cut so deep. Looking back, I realize I saw the signs of deep injuries and I dismissed them. Apparently force users have a significantly higher pain tolerance than the other members of their species.”
“Tech.” Thanks to his modifications, there was finally emotion in my altered voice. “You didn’t know.”
He shifted his gaze to his tray. “Yes.”
Before I could try to reassure him further, Crosshair spoke. “Not that it mattered, she’s perfectly fine and got to sleep through half the journey back. Seems like a bonus to me.” He held his spoon out, pointing it at me, but gave a smirk to his brother.
“Some of us like to use our time more productively than just sleeping.” Tech shot an annoyed look at the sniper, but lifted his shoulders from their slouched position.
“Speaking of, commander, now that you’re healed you should join our training.” Hunter finally joined in the conversation. “We only have a few days of travel left, so we’ll have to make the most of it before we land.”
“Wait, you’re not leaving The Negotiator?” The surprise in my voice was not subtle. Each clone gave a shake of their head as I scanned the table for their responses. “That means you’ll be on leave when we get to Coruscant?” Again, I scanned. This time they nodded.
“We usually go on a few missions before going on leave again, but considering the complications of this one Obi-Wan specifically requested we be given time off.”
Helmets were really useful. “Oh, That’s good, that you get a break, I mean.” My eyes drifted with my swirling thoughts till I was looking at nothing in particular. What was that Jedi up to? “When’s training?” I asked, slowly pulling my eyes back into focus as I turned to Hunter.
“In a few hours, when the ship goes on Night Shift.” Hunter answered.
“We like to use the gym when it’s empty.” Wrecker added.
“Two and a quarter hours, to be exact, Annie.”
I nodded my head in response, still mulling over the implications of Obi-Wan giving the batch leave immediately. No chance I’d be able to go home right after we land on Coruscant. The council will likely require a debriefing. That means Crosshair would probably beat me to the bar. I won’t have time to get Stinky, fill in Jayas with whatever lie I’ve yet to come up with and–
“Have you got your room assignment yet?” Tech’s question cut off my spiral of thoughts, though part of me felt he didn’t even notice my change in mood.
“No.” My lips pursed under my helmet. “I left before Obi-Wan could say…”
“No worries, I’ll check the ship’s system.” Tech tapped away on his data pad. “If you’ve got a room assignment, it’ll show up here.” He tilted his screen towards me, showing me a list that looked like a mess of numbers and letters.
“Thanks, Tech.” I slid closer, trying to get a better view of the datapad.
Across from us I could feel someone staring. I glanced up to see a reticle aimed at me. Crosshair had finished his meal and was now sitting with his arms crossed while Wrecker talked to him. He didn’t look away when I caught him staring. Instead, the sniper twirled the toothpick resting between his lips. My head tilted down, an involuntary action as I attempted to guess what the sniper was thinking.
“Deck 3, Room 371.” Tech, once again, snapped my attention.
“Now I just have to find it.”
“Actually, that is why I asked in the first place. Since you are still unfamiliar with The Negotiator, I wanted to offer directions.” Tech swiped his screen, showing me what looked to be blueprints for the star destroyer. They didn’t help with my understanding of the ship.
“Didn’t you need to sync the nav system?” Before I could answer, Crosshair questioned his brother.
Hesitation parted Tech’s lips. “...Well, yes. But that will take me no more than an hour.”
“Tech.” This time Hunter spoke. “Last time you said that we were nearly three hours behind departure. Just enough time to finish before training.” Hunter’s soft expression clashed with his commanding tone.
“Leave the Commander to me, I’ll make sure she gets home in one piece.” Again, Crosshair met my gaze. Despite almost always wearing a glare, this piercing look dug deeper than usual. Movement beside me turned my head. Tech glanced between the toothpick wielding clone and myself. A look of uncertainty furrowed his brows together.
“That’s fine.” I answered in a tone that did nothing to help Tech understand my thoughts. All I could do was hope this was about something other than my identity. Even still, my stomach turned in fear.
With my acceptance, Crosshair stood, carrying his tray to the nearest bin. I followed, leaving Tech to watch us exit the mess. We matched stride in the halls, passing clones and a few droids, until we turned a corner into a less traveled corridor. Only our footsteps and the various sounds of the ship echoed down the long hall. Until, “My brother is off limits.” Crosshair spoke, but kept his head straight forward.
Relief escaped in a sigh. Then the confusion set in. “What?”
“You seem to have left an impression on Tech.” That earned a side glance. “He’s the one who orchestrated your new gear and has been pitching your involvement with our squad since you’ve been in the bacta tank. His attitude about you has significantly changed since your time in the escape pod with him.” There was a hint of accusation in that last sentence.
“Hold on,” I took an extra step forward and turned to face him. My movement forced him to halt, landing him a few centimeters from me. “You haven’t explained what ‘off limits’ is.”
A silver eyebrow shot up and the clone gave me the most confounded expression I had seen on anyone before. “Fucking, Annie. Don’t fuck my brothers, especially Tech.”
My helmet did not help me this time. “No! You think I want? From him?” That earned a frown from Crosshair and glare to match. “He’s not my type?” Unfortunately, my words weren’t muffled by the foot in my mouth.
Crosshair sighed and stepped around me, continuing our path to my quarters. His pace was faster than before. After a moment of internal screaming I chased after him.
“What I mean to say is, while Tech is handsome and most likely perfectly good in bed, I have not thought of him, or Hunter, or Wrecker, in that way.” Now I was the one forced to stop.
Crosshair turned suddenly, staring silently at me. His toothpick twirled slowly.
“What?” The scrutiny of his gaze was wearing through my patience.
“Tech, Hunter, or Wrecker.” Crosshair lifted the toothpick from his lips and pointed it at me. “But you didn’t say anything about me.”
“We weren’t talking about you.” I answered too quickly.
His smirk, that stupid pretty smirk I could get lost in, grew. “Uhu.” He returned the pick to his mouth. “Well, so long there’s no issue.” Crosshair turned on his heels, yet again leaving me behind to silently scream.
“There isn’t!” I called after him.
Luckily our journey was over.
Crosshair stood in the doorway while I entered the small room. It was stuffy, like a rarely used supply closet. My things laid on the bed, evidence that even Obi-Wan had a limit I pushed past. As I zipped open my bag, Crosshair followed me into the room. The slide of automatic doors pulled my head up.
“If you aren’t trying to get in my brother’s bunk,” The sniper cocked his head at me. “Then why’s he taken such an interest in you?”
My eyes returned to the contents of my duffel bag. “Me?” To my surprise my personal datapad had been returned to me. This had to be some kind of breach of security, right? I tucked it to the side. “You’d have to ask him about that.”
“I’m asking you.”
Footsteps neared the bed. My spine crawled. Before Crosshair could reach me, I turned on my heel. “Why? I told you nothing has happened or will happen between Tech and I. What more are you fishing for?” The words came out breathy.
Only a nose from me, Crosshair looked into my visor, seemingly trying to replicate the expression of an emotionless helmet. My question gave him pause. After what felt too long under his reticle, Crosshair spoke. “You’ve worn a bucket the entire mission. At first I thought you were smart; a Jedi wearing head armor for once. But then it didn’t come off in the ship. Or while we trained in the cargo bay. You never took it off.”
Anger and fear welled up in my chest and scratched at my throat. How could one bartender playing spy put me through hell? This wasn’t my life! I shouldn’t be here. I… I answered.
“Don’t ask me to. Not yet.”
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Authors end chapter notes:
Is Crosshair being a presumptuous ass thinking Annie is into him? I mean, we know the answer but technically he doesn't. They weren't talking about him!.. right? 😏 Let me know your thoughts if you have any! Thanks for reading :D
Dividers by Djarrex   
Tag list: @midnight-sun-01
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yeahwhatdidisay · 1 year
Text
The Body Series Book 1: Ch 9 'Whispers'
18+ please!! minors DNI (For other chapters) [Prev. Chapter] [Next Chapter] [First Chapter] [Ao3 link]
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Summary: The day started out rough but slowly turned began to get better. Thanks mainly to your best friend, Layla. Unfortunately, like they had been lately, your day caught up with you. You only have yourself to blame.
Pairing: Steven Grant x F Reader, Marc Spector x F Reader, Jake Lockely
Warnings: Angst, mentions of alchohol and hangovers A/N: I think I have some explaining to do. Many apologies for taking so long to post the next chapter. I've been struggling with the work load I've had to endure this year and to top it all off, I lost someone close to me at the beginning of September and it really hit me hard. It's taken me a while to come out of my haze and I feel like the chapters I'd written before have gotten so much better after going over them this past week.
So with that said I'm hoping to get back onto my regular schedule of a chapter every one to two weeks.
Thank you to all the readers who stop by and especially those who leave such kind and lovely comments. You are all greatly appreciated and I am humbled by your kindness.
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You slowly opened your eyes the next morning to soft glints of the early morning light seeping into the room. The dim light that comes just before the sun actually rises, basking the room in its soft glow.
Normally this would have been something you would have enjoyed but the pounding headache currently keeping beat in your head made this a less than ideal experience.
You closed your eyes and rolled over, placing your hand over them to deepen the dark you needed to help them from straining.
However, even with the piercing headache you were thankful. 
You imagined how much worse it would have been if it wasn’t for your healing ability.  Although, you still wished it was completely healed like a wound or a broken limb would have been.
The one thing your healing ability could never fully heal by the time you woke.
A hangover.
Slowly you moved your hand and opened your eyes again, your back now facing the window.  With your eyes adjusting to the dim light you began to feel another ache begin to grow within you.  
The ache of realizing what you had tried to initiate the night before…with Jake.
Technically nothing had actually happened but you knew you couldn’t ease your guilt with a technicality.
You had been willing to put everything on the line.  
You couldn’t explain away how you had acted and you couldn’t deny you would have taken it further if Jake hadn’t stopped you.  
What made the whole situation worse was you never once thought of Marc or Steven during it. 
You hugged the pillow beside you and tried your best to rationalize.
‘I hadn’t seen Jake in such a long time, of course I couldn’t help but focus on him!’ 
‘He was ignoring me so I put all my attention on trying to keep his?’  
‘It was all the alcohol’s fault!’
You buried your face into the pillow and let out a deep groan before pushing yourself up.
Nothing made what had happened okay. It couldn’t be explained away and your guilt in the whole matter couldn’t be taken from you.  You were at fault!  This may not have fully been your own doing but you hadn’t tried to fight it in a long time.
What made the whole thing worse and ate away at your chest was if given the same chance, minus the alcohol, you still would have pushed and you wouldn’t have contested it going further. On top of that, Jake wouldn’t have had a reason to push you away.
You raised your eyes away from the pillow and stared at the glints of light that shined on the ceiling and the wall beside you.
What were you doing?! This wasn’t you!  Risking everything you had, everything you loved… but that was it, wasn’t it?
You thought about what Jake had said.  Were these feelings only because they shared the body?  Was that how it happened with Steven and Marc?  
You’d loved Steven and cared for Marc before it grew into love. Even before you realized how deep it was… right?
You thought back to the time before you and Marc had decided to start dating officially.  How you were both just friendly after finally meeting.  How you had enjoyed being around him to the point it grew into a little crush before it ballooned into deeper feelings. 
You felt that even if ‘that night’ had never happened you would have ended up together in the end anyway.  ‘That night’ just put that outcome on the fast track. 
Is the same true for Jake?
Or was all of this based on lust?  Did you actually care for Jake or did you just yearn for him on a strictly physical level?  
Did he actually have deeper feelings for you or was he right?  Was all of his feelings just because he shared the body?  Were your feelings only because of the same reason?
And why was it so important that he remained hidden from everyone?
This whole situation was beginning to become too much for you to handle and the only person you could really talk with about it was the other half involved in it.  The person you weren’t sure wanted to have anything to do with you.
‘What am I doing?’ you repeated in your mind as you pushed yourself up out of bed and stopped in the kitchen for some water on your way out to the balcony. 
The sound of people below starting their day echoed through the streets and up into the sky.  You leaned over the edge and watched as some of them made their way to the market down the street to open their stands and shops.
The early morning air, still cool from the night, began to push and sting at your cheeks.
‘What am I going to do?’ you thought again, walking over to one of the chairs she had on the balcony.
How could you fix this?  How could you look Steven and Marc in the eyes knowing you had these feelings for their third identity?  An identity they knew nothing about.  You might as well have been cheating.  This was cheating.
 “I need to talk to him…”  you whispered just as you heard the sliding door open.
“Good morning…” Layla groaned,  her voice hoarse from lack of use. “What’s with the sour expression?”
You shrugged.
“Just…looking how I feel I guess.”
“Well that makes two of us.”  
She reached out and handed you a cup with what looked like an egg yolk and some spices in it.
“What’s this?” you asked, your voice sounding just as hoarse as hers was.
“It should help with our hangovers.”
You took the cup as she filled it with a clear liquid.“Go ahead and down it but whatever you do, don’t smell it before.”
You looked over at her and plugged your nose before downing the cup's contents in one go.
This was followed by the most god awful guttural sound to match how you felt in that moment. A shiver pushing up through your spine then out to the rest of your body.
“What the heck did you just give me?!  Are you trying to poison me?!”
She smiled and downed her own cup, making pretty much the same sound.
“No…not poison…” she said with a scratchy tone, “just using the hangover cure Marc taught me.  I think he called it a ‘prairie oyster’.”
“Of course Marc would be behind that!” you complained, shivering one last time before downing as much water as you could.
Layla laughed as she did the same.
“So…what’s on the agenda for today?” you asked, trying to not dwell on the taste that lingered in your mouth.
“Up for more partying?” Layla laughed.
“I’m never drinking again!” you exclaimed.
“Thank the gods!  I don’t think I’ve ever let loose like that before!  You’re a bad influence on me!”
“Oh please!  I’m the guest!  You were the mastermind of last night!”
Layla shook her head in denial then started laughing, taking the seat beside you.
“Okay, I secede.  What do you say we take it slow?  Then, maybe, go to the market down the road later?”
“I think that’s the perfect plan.” you said, leaning deeper into the chair.
At least you won’t be alone with your thoughts for a little while longer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two of you did literally nothing for the rest of the morning.  
You spent the majority of it sitting on the balcony.  Talking, sharing, and laughing the way you had the night before, drinking some coffee you both had made and trying to eat the toast that accompanied it. 
Unfortunately your stomach’s still weren’t ready for real food yet.
The only other time you both took a break from your morning conversations was when you got up to get your phone from the guest room.  You returned a few minutes later, looking down at the messages you’d received with a soft smile on your face.
“The guys?” Layla asked, already knowing the answer.
You nodded.
“We got a few scolding texts from Marc and a couple worried voicemails from Steven.” 
“Did you respond last night?”
“I texted Steven letting him know we were okay and sent the middle finger emoji to Marc. He just responded with the angry face emoji then texted ‘be careful’ and a heart.”
You showed Layla the messages and she couldn’t help but laugh.  
She missed this light conversation between the two of you and couldn’t help but thank all the gods that you had returned to being yourself.
As the day went on you both regained a little more of your strength and finally decided now was as good a time as any to venture into the market.
Something Layla quickly regretted considering the market seemed extra congested that day.
The two of you ventured into the crowd of people, being pushed this way and that. Trying your best to casually enjoy the small shops and stands when you came across a vender selling small statues of various gods, prints of famous works of art, and animals.  
As you scanned over everything you zoned in on a small statue of a cat that seemed to be by itself in the far corner of the table it rested on.  Where most of the statues had multiple copies layed out this was the only cat statue of its kind.  
This detail wasn’t the main reason the statue had grabbed your focus.  No, the main reason you were so interested in this cat was because of the slightly hunched pose it sat in and the sour expression that rested across its face.
You picked it up and held it in your hands, smiling down at its bothered face. 
‘It looks just like him…’ you thought.
“Araa’ ‘anak muhtamun bitimhal quatatay alsaghirat alghadibati.” 
You looked up to see a kind older man staring back at you from behind the table.
“I’m sorry…I don’t speak Arabic…” you replied, even though you were fully able to understand him. 
You’d grown used to pretending that you couldn’t understand most languages.  Another perk from your avatar abilities.
“Ah… I see you find interest in my little angry cat.”
“Oh! You speak English…yes.  I think his sour face is kind of cute.” You laughed.
“Yes, you would be the first to think this.” The man chuckled. “I have had that statue for a long time.  I believe my youngest ordered just the one, but he has remained on my table for what seems like an eternity.”
You smiled at the man and looked back down at the cat.
“Well today is the day that comes to an end.  How much would you like for him?”
The man thought for a moment then reached out and closed your fingers around the small statue.
“I believe I was only holding the statue for when you came to claim him.  He has always been yours.  Perhaps, if you were to show him some kindness his expression will change.”
“But that’s my favorite part about him.”  you replied.
The man let out a deep laugh and nodded.
“Then he truly is going to the one who deserves him.  May you be forever blessed in your choices.”
You nodded and thanked the man over and over as you walked over to Layla who was looking at some dresses and purses in a nearby stand.  
She looked over and saw the little sour cat in your hands.
“He looks angry…where’d you get him from?   Are you sure you didn’t pay too much?”
“Not unless you consider free too much.  I like his angry face…he reminds me of someone.”
Your voice became hushed until it was barely audible at the end of your sentence. 
Layla watched as you looked lovingly down at the little figurine.  Then a sudden and familiar pit began to form in her chest. 
She’d felt this pit before, back when you had pulled away from everyone but had managed to explain it away to herself.  Taking it as an assumption with no ground to stand on, but now that it had returned she began to question her notions again.
Your smile slowly faded as you lightly touched the cat in your hand.  
The pit in Layla growing bigger and pushing her nerves to fire the longer she stared at your expression toward the little figure.
You put the small cat in your bag and wiped away at your cheek for a moment before smiling over at your friend.
“Find anything you like?” you said, not noticing how intently Layla watched you.
“Yeah…yeah.  What do you think?” 
Layla held up a scarf, opting to keep her questions to herself for the time being.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The walk back to Layla’s apartment was a quiet one.
The sun was now setting after a nice dinner at a local restaurant.  Or at least as much of the dinner the two of you trusted to stay down.
Which still wasn’t much.
The mood throughout the late afternoon had noticeably shifted as well.
Layla went from being her usual light self to coming off a little more guarded.  The two of you still laughed and enjoyed the conversation, but it was far from as easy going as it had been.
Now, though, it was obvious something was wrong.
“So…are we going to call this a night in?”  
You lightheartedly tried to start up another conversation once you both made it back to the apartment. After the long awkward walk home you hoped you could regain the mood of earlier.
“We can watch a movie, any movie!  Even one that isn’t in English.  I don’t mind reading subtitles…your choice!  Ooo, maybe that one you were telling me about earlier today!  You know the one with the little boy and his father going off to….”
“Is there someone else?”
Layla’s voice was soft and quiet.  Almost as if she didn’t fully mean to say the question out loud.
Your heart sank instantly.
“What?  What are you talking about?”
Layla began to shake her head and looked down to your feet. She was hoping if she brought this up she would be able to keep her emotions in check, but feeling them bubbling within her she knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“Is there someone else?” She repeated, “Is that why you pulled away from all of us?  Were you cheating on the guys?  Are you still cheating?!”
Her voice began to raise and become more stern.  She looked deep in your eyes as she asked the last two questions.  You were sure you looked like a deer in the headlights but quickly regained yourself.
“Where did this come from? If this is some joke I’m telling you right now, it isn’t funny!”
“Yes or no, Y/N.  Is there someone else?”
Layla was no longer being kind.  She had reached her conclusion.  A long and well thought out one and although she hoped you would put her assumptions to rest she was ready to stand up for her friends…against another.
You took a breath, ready to deny it all.  Ready to keep your secrets like you always had but the look on her face broke your heart more than you anticipated.  
She looked at you with anger, yes, but also despair.  Her eyebrows were turned up and her face was stretched in a way as if she was pleading for you to put her worries to rest. To assure her these worries were just a big mistake and nothing more.
You turned and looked down at your hands which were now grasping tightly onto your bag straps.  You could feel your body begin to tense and slightly shake and a lump began to form in the back of your throat.
You could keep secrets, but you didn’t want to lie. Especially not to Layla.
“N-no…yes…no…” you began to stammer.
“Which is it, Y/N?  You either are or you aren’t, it’s not that hard of a question to answer!”
You turned to Layla, whose face was now completely filled with anger.
“I…I’m not…no I’m not but…”
“No!  The answer should be no!  Just no! There shouldn’t be any sort of continuation to the answer!  You should be able to say ‘No, I am not cheating on the two people who I’m supposed to care about the most!’” she yelled.
“Layla…I, I can’t…it’s complicated and I…” you whispered.
“No!  You don’t get to explain this away! All I want is the truth!  Tell me the truth, Y/N.”
“I … I want…you don’t understand.  You haven't been around and I…”
“No, you don’t understand!” Layla’s voice broke and her anger gave way to frustration.  “You didn’t see how your actions affected the guys!  They were sure you were going to leave! They were so sure they had done something to make you want to leave.  So much so they fell back into that dark place they were when I found them!  Losing themselves more and more often but it was you!  This whole time it was you going off with someone else!  How could you do that to them!?”
“I didn’t!  I wasn’t…I would never…I…”
“Then why can’t you say there isn’t anyone else?” she interrupted. 
She was right.  The memories of how worried the guys were and realizing that they were putting themselves through hell just as much as you were.  You knew all the details and they were left not knowing.   Thinking they were the ones to blame!  
Your whole body began to shake and you began to tear up.  You brought your hands up to your mouth and you could feel your breath break into a soft sob.
You wanted to tell her.  You knew you couldn’t tell her everything but you wanted to tell her what you could.
Layla’s breath broke too.  She let out a deep sigh and placed her palm on her forehead.
“Listen…I’m sorry.  I know I, I just didn’t want to believe that you could do something like this…but I get it.  Marc and Steven come with…baggage.  I can see the want to gravitate toward something ‘normal’.”
You shook your head.
“It-it’s not that…I want to explain everything but I…”
You lifted your head, ready to admit that you were an Avatar.  Ready to just let her know that the someone else was another part of Marc and Steven but you lost your nerve when you saw Khonshu standing in the corner of the room behind Layla. 
He shook his head and raised his finger up toward his beak, signaling for you to remain quiet.  
You could feel the hurt and shame give way to an anger that rose within you.  You returned your focus to Layla and could only stare apologetically.
“I’m sorry, Layla…I can’t.  I just…I can’t…” 
You turned and quickly rushed out of the room and toward the guest room.
‘Damnit!’ Layla thought, following you through her apartment just far enough to have the door slammed in front of her.
She raised her hand to knock on it but stopped herself, instead lightly placing her open palm on the cold wood.
‘You messed up, Layla, you messed up big time.’ She thought.
“Y/N…I’m sorry, just…I think it’s better if we don’t…let’s just get some rest.  We can talk in the morning.  I’m sorry.”
You stood on the other side of the door, wiping away the tears you allowed to flow out of your eyes.  
You wanted so badly to explain.  Let Layla know what was happening but the ever looming presence of the moon god made it clear you weren’t free to do so.  
Layla’s footsteps began to echo from the other side of the door, becoming fainter until you finally heard the door to her room close and shut.
You slid down the wall and buried your face in your hands again.  
It was then that you let yourself go and began to sob into your hands.  This situation had gotten so much worse and out of hand.  
Layla knew…something, and the fact that you had been unable to confirm or deny anything made it almost unbearable.
She must think that you’ve been cheating on Marc and Steven the whole time!  Going out behind their backs with some random man!  From work?  From the university?  Someone you met on your walks home?  Her mind must be racing!
But she wasn’t exactly wrong.
How were you going to explain this away?
You lowered your hand and saw Khonshu, staring down at you from where he had materialized on the other side of the bed like he had the night before.
“I see I’ve come at a bad time…” Khonshu said, standing on the opposite side of the bed.
You sat silent, the anger on your face being something that he had seen often from you but hadn’t seen in a long time.  
It had been so long, in fact, that its appearance caught him by surprise.
Khonshu stood and said nothing.  He moved his head from side to side, looking the most bird-like you’d ever seen him.
“I’m sorry, Little Bug…we’ve been summoned.”
You stood up and tried to dry your eyes and cheeks as best you could.  You took Khonshu’s extended hand, instantly materializing in your own flat back home.
You hung your head and hugged yourself as you scanned the flat around you.  The room smelled like Marc and Steven which made the ache in your chest hurt that much more.  All you wanted to do was hug them and apologize for being such an awful person. 
“Don’t worry, Little Bug.  Marc and your idio…Steven have gone to work.”
You sighed at Khonshu’s usual inability to remember not to call Steven an idiot in front of you but you didn’t contest like usual.  This made Khonshu worry.
“I figured that’s where they’d be…” you whispered instead.  Taking a moment to wipe away at your eyes again.
“What happened?” Khonshu asked.
“Human stuff…” you answered, “Nothing you could fix, or even be interested in.”
“I could try…” he said.
You looked up at him and let a faint smile grow across your face.  Khonshu’s answer warmed you.  Masking over the anger you felt toward him.  
In all the years you’d known him he had never even tried to pretend to be interested in anything having to do with your ‘human troubles and worries’.  He was a proud, immortal god who didn’t have time to worry about such trivial things, but he was willing to try at this moment.
You also knew none of this was his fault.  You needed somewhere to direct your emotions and the god became the focus of what had turned to anger.
“Thank you…” you replied just as Thoth appeared before the two of you.  Materializing between blinks.
“I asked for one thing!  One thing and the two of you decide to disobey me!”
His voice boomed through the room as if it were a cavernous space.  Echoing around you and feeling as if it could pull you apart at any moment. “I asked you to do nothing and yet you defy me and do as you wish!”
You straightened up but hung your head, averting your eyes. Partly because of the shame that overtook you and partly to keep him from seeing that something else may be wrong.
“Don’t blame the girl.  She did what I asked to keep the body safe.”
“She still chose to defy me! Regardless of the reason, there must be a consequence for disobeying my orders!”
“Wait, Khonshu only sent me to find an artifact like he’s always done.” You said, instantly regretting doing so and returning to hanging your head and averting your gaze.
“You used your higher abilities for a task that wasn’t of my own decree.  You of all people should know your higher abilities are not to be used whenever you please!  Add to this offense the fact that you were working for another god while using those abilities!  Would you like me to continue?”
You shook your head as a reply. 
“She didn’t know I was sending her to retrieve that particular artifact, Thoth.  I was also the one who coaxed her into using her higher abilities.  If anyone is to be punished it should be me and me alone.”
You looked up at Khonshu then over to Thoth, who looked as if he was thinking over what Khonshu had said.  
His gaze was to the floor. His hand rested under his beak and his eyes began to take on an angrier stare. It was slight and subtle but in that moment you felt the fear begin to creep in.
You never feared Thoth.
He was not one of the gods that could be described as ‘vengeful’, but you had also never seen him angry.  You wondered what a punishment from him could entail. Would you lose something precious to you?  Would you need to atone for your actions on a different plain? Would you be able to see the people you cared about?
“I can’t be lenient and ignore the punishment for defying my word lest you both choose to defy me again.”
The panic inside of you began to bubble up to the surface as you instinctively took a step back from the two gods.  You needed to think quickly before it was too late. 
“Wait,” you interrupted, hoping to stop Thoth from making a decree that couldn’t be undone, “I know where the whispers are coming from!” 
“What?” Thoth replied.
Khonshu looked over at you, surprised.  He wasn’t expecting that type of information to come, especially at a time like this.
“Have you been further disobeying me, Scribe?”
“No, no…I was helping out at an excavation site.  They’ve unearthed what they think is a tomb or a shrine of some sort and I heard the whispers coming from within it.”
“Was there any writing?” Thoth asked.
“Yes, but most of the tomb is buried deep within the side of the mountain and the part that was unearthed was too damaged to read.  I was able to make out ‘APO’ though.”
“Hmm…” the Ibis god hummed.
“Take us there.”
“What?  How, I…”
“Imagine the location and take my hand again.” Khonshu instructed, reaching out his hand to you.
The instant you took his hand you found yourself high up on the ridge overlooking the site.  You could see the last of the archeologists cleaning up their tools and areas as they began to light the lanterns around them.
“It seems we have come at an inopportune time.” Thoth stated. “You two will wait here for the humans to clear.”
“Yes, Thoth.” The two of you replied in unison.
“And as for your punishments…”
He took another moment to continue thinking before announcing his decision.
“My Scribe, you will no longer be able to tap into your higher abilities without my explicit permission.  Aside from your added strength and your suit, your healing abilities and the summoning of your fog form will be the only added abilities you may use.  All else must have my permission.”
“I understand…”
“And you, Khonshu.  I will add only 300 years to your punishment, rather than the 1,000 you deserve.  I would thank my Scribe for sharing the added information she found. It’s what saved you both from a harsher punishment.”
“Understood.”
“I do not wish to have this discussion again.”
With that Thoth disappeared leaving the two of you alone to wait for the people below to clear out of the excavation site.
You took a seat at the edge of the peak, bringing your knees up and resting your crossed arms on them along with your chin.
Khonshu continued to watch you beside him, neither of you speaking while you continued to wipe the tears away from your face.
“Little Bug?”
“Yes?” 
“Did I do something to make you cross?  I hadn’t seen that angered expression of yours for a long time.”
You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head.
“No…you didn’t do anything.  I just needed someone to be angry at and you were the only other person in the room other than Layla.”
“I see…”
He looked off into the distance of the darkened desert.  He felt he was starting to understand your ‘human emotions’ a little more.  
“Is this about Jake?”
“Kind of…yes.”
Khonshu again returned to staring down at you when he thought of something that could possibly make you feel better.
“Will it help to know why you shouldn’t reveal him to the others?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist: @delicatespiritualitysciencebat
14 notes · View notes
rocknluvy · 6 months
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can i imagine them ever dating? no
but would they be so funny as exes?
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yes.
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kachuusha · 3 years
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I just suddenly felt like talking about hanji's maybe we should just live here together in 126. so here it is.
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I've seen this get discredited countless times by saying hanji only said it because they are tired and nothing more.
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the thing is, hanji was already tired when eren went rogue and long before the yeagerists took over paradis BUT not once had they expressed that they want to run away.
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it was only after hanji had found and saved a gravely wounded levi when they finally voiced out that desire.
before anything, I don't think levi's near death experience was the only reason. I still think the immense stress and pressure were factors but I do think that levi's accident had a huge influence.
levi has been a dear friend of hanji for the past years and was the only one remaining among the survey corps veterans. levi had been a constant companion of hanji all these years. it's not surprising that levi's accident had greatly affected hanji and they may have been struck with the need to keep him safe because they are afraid to lose him. I mean is hanji's protectiveness over levi even a question when they jumped and swam through that river with levi in tow while yeagerists were firing at them? hanji didn't even have a single weapon with them. it's likely that either of them would've died during their escape. levi's survival rate was even lower as he is already suffering with numerous injuries. but hanji still risked their life if it meant that levi could have a chance to be saved and live on.
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would hanji have asked the same question to any other random character? I don't think so because like I said earlier, hanji had never expressed anything of sort before even when they were alone in ch 107 and ch 109.
hanji only said it after their reunion with levi and it is directed towards levi. it's "maybe we should just live here together. right..levi?" and not "maybe I should just live here."
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you cannot even call it a spur of the moment thing or hanji simply joking around because we have an actual dialogue coming from hanji saying that they were the one trying to run away.
hanji had seriously considered it. and we all know with whom. they wanted to run away and start anew with levi. this is what hanji would've wanted if they didn't choose their duty.
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fanmoose12 · 3 years
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Actor/actress AU headcanon! After filming the plane scene in ch.132, Levi decided not to leave the same regret in real life. 🛩️🛩️🛩️
Love love loveeeee your recent journalists fic!!!💕
"You died, four-eyes. The fuck you're doing here now?"
"Oi!" Hange quickly stepped inside the trailer, just in time before Levi shut the door in her face. "Is that how you greet your favorite co-star?"
"Favorite?" Levi raised his thin, perfect eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit of a stretch? And besides," he turned around, returning to the game he had opened on his phone. "You're not my co-star anymore. Or did you forget that your character had died?"
"How can I forget, it's a tragic loss!" Hange dramatically cried out, before erupting in a fit of giggles. "But as great as my character was, I'm so glad that it's finally over. For the first time in years, I'm on a vacation, Levi! The freedom tastes so sweet!"
"Wow," he deadpanned, not looking up from his game. "C'mon, Hange, rub the salt deeper into my wound. Tell me about just how much you enjoy your vacation while I'm stuck here, surrounded by dumb children."
"Oh, someone is awfully grumpy," Hange sat down next to Levi, wrapping an arm around him and reaching out to pinch his cheek. "Is your face so sour because you miss me? Maybe, you miss my hilarious jokes and witty comments because no one on set is as funny as me? Maybe, you also miss my incomparable acting skills and perfect, unbelievably sexy body?"
"Don't push it, four-eyes," Levi huffed, but- he didn't even try to escape from her embrace. Hange counted it as a definite win. "I do not miss you. Besides, you're the one who showed up here. Maybe, you're the one who misses me."
"Of course, I miss you," Hange didn't hesitate to answer. "That's why I'm here, bringing you a delicious lunch," with a grin, she pushed the package closer to him. "And since you don't miss me, let me tell you what I've been busy with this morning."
Splaying more comfortably on the sofa inside Levi's trailer, Hange threw a leg over him, ignoring his irritated grunt completely. "So I woke up at noon, spent another hour in bed doing absolutely nothing," the envy inside Levi's gaze didn't escape her notice, prompting her smile to grow even wider. "Then I got up to make breakfast; by the way, I prepared the sandwiches that you love so much. After that I decided to work out for a bit, the weather is so hot today that I had to put my shorts and crop top... You know," Hange slowly traced her finger around Levi's biceps. The way he tensed didn't go unnoticed by her as well. The fact that he abandoned his game completely only stroked her ego further. "How tight and short that outfit is..."
"Hange." Levi's voice was low, excitedly close to growl. "If you say another word, I'm going to go to the writer's room and demand they kill off my character in the next fucking episode."
"Oh?" Hange feigned a surprised face. "And risk breaking the hearts of your beloved fans?"
"I don't care," at last, he moved, falling on top of Hange. With complete disregard to his costume and make-up, he covered her body with his, gripping her thin waist with his knees. In this position, he was looming over her, his eyes dark and filled with frustration and desire. Hange felt a shiver of anticipation. "I'm sick of being stuck in here, away from you." He cradled her chin, their lips now close to touching. "Besides, the show won't lose much. There is no Levi without Hange anyway."
Hange laughed, shortening the distance between them and finally capturing his mouth with hers.
There was no Levi without Hange? Huh, she couldn't say it any better.
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o-king-of-suns · 3 years
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Hi ^^ I've recently found ur blog and read ur meta. Ur analysis is great! I'm kinda new here but I've seen so many ppl talk about Levi's guidebook page, referring to it as "the confirmation of what Levi was solely fighting for in the final battle i.e revenge by fulfilling the promise" I'm sorry if this has been pointed out before but as a Levi fan who believes otherwise, I'd love to read ur interpretation. Also u also believe the GB is implying this? I think ppl are having the wrong impression.
Hi! :) Thank you so much! I am glad you liked my meta! English is not my first language, so I try my best to express what I want to say.
Almost everyone agrees that the final guidebook is just an ABSOLUTE hot garbage! xD At this point that no one is taking seriously anymore! xD It straight up contradicts what happens in the manga, has VERY reductive and nonsensical descriptions of the characters and is FULL of errors.
The main reason to why many people have issues with Levi’s part (apart from it having nothing new or because it mainly focused on the promise) is one word that was used in the text that has been translated by some biased people into “obsessed”.
I asked 3 Japanese people (including my teacher) about the word that was used in the text and the meanings that I was given were: (be) dedicated to; have an uncompromising commitment to ; to really focus on; to be determined to; etc. From what I understood, this term is always a headache as it truly depends on what the writer wants to convey and what it “feels” right in the context. "Obsessed” is like, the most reductive reading of that word, and it's the exact word that Er_ris chose to use xD
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Japanese is often qualified as vague, and it CAN leave room for interpretation. For example, the word (きれい) Isayama used to say Levi was the opposite of Rorschach could mean "pretty" or "clean" based on the context, but here's the thing: Rorschach is notoriously ugly, so it makes sense that Isayama meant that Levi is "pretty" (and it IS officially translated to "pretty" ), but I have seen MANY Japanese people say that Isayama meant "clean" not “pretty”! This word meaning in the text literally and solely depended on Isayama's intention even causing translators to get confused and translate it to “pretty”! If we look at the context of Levi’s character description in the last gb, the last line mentions that after his final mission, Levi “meets his friends with a calm heart”. Why would Levi be able to meet his friends with a “calm heart” if his entire arc was about him being “obsessed” with a personal goal and revenge?! Is this why he salutes them and they salute him back in the final chapter?! I am 100% sure that the word “obsessed” was not the one that the person who wrote the description wanted to use.
Now let’s stop talking about language translation and focus on Levi in the manga xD Is the gb version Levi the same Levi whom Isayama described as "as an existence more superior to myself" during Levi’s statue reveal just last March?!
You know, when I asked my native Japanese teacher to help me translate Isayama's statement about Levi, she sent me a 4 minute voice note breaking down the terms Isayma used and explaining how much respect the person speaking (Isayama) has for the person he's talking about (Levi). I was embarrassed to tell her that the person he’s speaking about is actually a fictional character lol
Isyama used 頭 の上がらない which literally means “can’t raise someone’s head” but it actually means “can’t raise someone’s head in front someone else for how much respect they have for this person”
Now let’s look at Levi’s actions in the manga to see if we can reach to the same conclusion.
Levi is one of, if not the most, perceptive characters in SNK. In one the official short stories, he was described as a person who is able to “know the true nature of Man”. For Levi, Zeke is a man who cheered with satisfaction as he threw rocks through fifteen year olds. He’s the person who nonchalantly explained to Levi the process of gassing an entire village of unsuspecting civilians and flinging them into an eternal nightmare in order to weaponize their bodies. Zeke’s manipulations are the origin of almost all of Paradis’ problems, whether it’s encouraging Marley to ramp up aggressions or pulling shady shit with Kiyomi, Yelena and the Jaegerists that destabilizes their already vulnerable island. And what’s worse - because we’re reading a story where torn-up characters are often excused by circumstances of coercion or perceived necessity - he doesn’t care. He feels no remorse. He wants to do this. Levi doesn’t know Zeke’s ultimate reasoning of course, but he recognized through the smoke of the campfire a man who doesn’t give a fuck about the wishes and agency of others. Who will force his own will on a race of humans and call it mercy. AND YET, Levi stays with him for  A WHOLE MONTH in the forest bringing him books, drinks and a pillow to sit on. He keeps asking him about what happened in Connie’s village trying over and over to understand him. And then the guy transforms Levi’s own teammates in front of him, forces him to kill them and taunts him with their suffering. Levi perceives a person who’s arrogant enough to consider his cruelty compassion as he decides whether the lives of their children are worth living.YET, Levi decided to keep him alive because he believed that it is what’s the best for Paradis; a decision that eventually caused Levi’s severe injuries and the activation of the Rumbling!
During the final battle, Levi offered to act as a bait for Mikasa so she can try to bring back Armin and risks his life TWICE to save Jean and Connie risking his chances to ever fulfill his promise to Erwin.
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Please tell me now that these are actions of an “obsessed” man who is only focused on killing Zeke and revenge.
The first time Levi mentions the vow after the time skip, he says: “Erwin, I think I will be finally able to fulfill the vow I made to you that day. Your deathS had meaning. At last I will be able to prove it”  Levi clearly associates giving meaning to his comrades’ deaths WITH fulfilling his vow to Erwin. This is the line that proves that the vow has always meant something more.
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Levi made a promise that came to represent the fulfillment of the goal all his former Survey Corps comrades laid down their lives for. Slaying the Beast Titan took on symbolic stature, a tangible way of giving their sacrifices meaning - especially in a world where the circumstances had drastically shifted and enemies, allies, and other were suddenly seen from a completely different perspective.
In Ch. 136, Levi remembers his friends and reflects upon their sacrifices and what they meant. They did not sacrifice their lives to “trample the lives and hearts of others”.
We never got a SINGLE panel in which he says that he fulfilled his promise! In the last apparition of his fallen comrades, Erwin isn’t even in the center. He salutes his fallen comrades for devoting their hearts for humanity and they salute him back for honoring their sacrifices.
If there is one thing that Levi was “obsessed” about, it is him trying to give meaning to the deaths and sacrifices of the people who truly devoted their hearts to humanity and whom he truly loved
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crownandwriter · 3 years
Note
Hey, I saw your answer to that one follower who thanked you for not removing your DBH pieces. I want to thank you for it too, and I would like to ask you something. You said that it's possible you would be returning to DBH at some point. Would you consider continuing Illegal Intervention if you end up returning to DBH fandom? I completely understand if not since it's been a few years.
It's just that Rupert never got enough x reader love and even less now when the hype is over (people write x readers mainly about Connor now if anything at all, other characters get love very very rarely) and I love the bird boy so much and regularly read Illegal Intervention again and always hoped you would return to it. It's one of my all time fave serieses to be honest, even with only those 2 chapters. But if you don't believe you'll ever return to it, do you have any memory of how the storyline was supposed to continue? I completely understand if you don't remember, but I thought to ask anyway.
If you have any plans or urges to continue it, then you don't have to spoil the storyline, I'm willing to wait for another 3 years if it comes to that and would much rather read it and be excited for new chapters. Asking just because if you don't have any plans, it would be nice to hear how the story would have continued/ended.
But please don't feel bad if you aren't planning to continue and don't remember how it was supposed to continue, I've made a few assumptions and scenarios in my head to have some kind of closure even when your writing and ideas would absolutely be golden and better.
Heya! I'd love to continue it, actually! I still have the notebook where I wrote my notes and rough drafts of requests and fics I was working on, and I have the basic outline for each chapter. (There would be five, maybe six total, just depending on how long the final chapter got. If it was very long I'd split it into two)
I'd also like to continue the To Be CYOA story if there's interest, but I'm not certain that I still have the massive poster tree chart where I was plotting all the events....
That said, it may be a little while longer before I get around to writing it fully because I want to replay the game and refresh my memory of the characters before I get back into writing them. I'll add the other chapter outlines below the cut, in case you really want to know right now ;)
MAJOR spoiler alert, however, because the exact ending was basically already written out.
Ch. 3 - The reader is contacted by Markus following the first few protests and together they plan a warehouse raid. The reader is there for “inspections,” and uses their presence to seriously cripple the facility security. They share a tense but tender moment with Rupert as all the androids file out with supplies.
Ch. 4 - Rupert meets with the reader again to update them on how much the raid had helped. They do some serious talking here about Rupert, his past, Androids in general, and the reader’s involvement in the Revolution. They part ways feeling closer, and the Reader more infatuated with him than ever.
Ch. 5/6 - Small time skip, with vague mentions of the filling events. The Reader goes to hide with Rupert, following the bomb, and they find themselves in the old church together. They stay close, comforting one another, and the reader asks Rupert why he would risk his life just to make sure they got out of there, The romantic tension is at a breaking point, but Markus speaks before Rupert can answer.             - Rupert and the reader go along for the final protest. They get separated from the leading group when the SWAT trucks charge in. The reader pulls Rupert off to hide. The reader gets injured, but nothing life-threatening.             - They are both present for Markus’s ending speech, when suddenly some of the journalists and cameras train on them (They’re huddled together close, holding hands, and the reader is bleeding red so is clearly human.) The reader briefly worries that Rupert will be afraid or embarrassed under their scrutiny, but he simply scans the crowd of watching humans and leans closer, whispering, “Kiss me.”
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saiilorstars · 4 years
Text
Falling in Temptation
Previous chapters • Sequel to Stars Dance
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: 11th Doctor/ Female OC
~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~
Ch. 11: A Different Wire
Chapter summary: The Doctor charges on to find Amy and her baby. He's taken every precaution possible to keep everyone else safe, including putting Avalon into a lockdown. He's determined to keep his word to Rory and keep Avalon safe but when the battle seems to be over on Demons Run, they learn that the Silence has not only been watching Amy closely...Avalon has also been under their careful eyes.
Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)
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A little fairy comes at night,
Her eyes are blue, her hair is brown'
with silver spots upon her wings,
And from the moon she flutters down.
She has a little silver wand
And when a good child goes to bed
She waves a hand from right to the left
And makes a circle round its head.
And then it dreams of pleasant things,
Of fountains filled with fairy fish
And trees that bear delicious fruit
And bow their branches at a wish.
Of arbors filled with dainty scents,
From lovely flowers that never fade,
Bright flies that glitter in the sun
And glow-worms shining in the shade
And talking birds with gifted tongues
For singing songs and telling tales
And pretty dwarfs to show the way
Through fairy hills and fairy dales.
A little fairy comes at night,
her eyes are blue and her hair is brown
With silver spots upon her wings
And from the moon she flutters down
Amy held her baby daughter in her arms as she recited the poem she knew by heart. It was a stupid poem - lullaby - that her own mother used to sing to her before bed. Amy would never tell Avalon that, though. That woman thrived on fairy tales it was ridiculous. But now Amy could see why her mother would tell her the poem. It was soothing and magical. It calmed her daughter each time she read it. Maybe when this was all over, Avalon could take over in the fairy tale department because Amy felt like her voice lacked the talent Avalon owned.
But for the meantime, Amy had to do things on her own. It was a scary job to do when she had no idea where she was and the fact she didn't own one weapon against the people holding her captive. She could only hold her daughter close to her when she was allowed to carry her.
Melody was the only thing keeping Amy sane. At one month the baby girl was a cheery one, a gurgling one, and she never seemed to cry. It was as if Melody knew that things were tough and she didn't want to add more to the problem. Melody would attentively listen to the things her mother would tell her, from the sweet poems to the inspirational speeches. She loved them all.
Amy tried not to think about the soldiers inside the room she was in, all packed even with the eye-patch woman, Madame Kovarian.
"I wish I could tell you that you'll be loved. That you'll be safe and cared for and protected. But this isn't a time for lies. What you are going to be, Melody is very, very brave," Amy was quiet with her words, but only because she didn't want Melody to pick up on her stressed tone.
Madame Kovarian - the eye patch lady - was waiting at the front of the room, just like she always did. "Two minutes," she warned, not that Amy would look at her.
"But not as brave as they'll have to be," Amy continued with Melody close by. "Because there's someone coming. I don't know where he is, or what he's doing, but trust me. He's on his way. There's a man who's never going to let us down. And not even an army can get in the way..." She trailed off when she saw the soldiers with Kovarian coming for her again. Not her, but her. Melody. Amy instinctively backed away a couple steps. "Leave her, just you leave her! Please leave her! Leave her!"
It was the same thing each time, and each time Amy fell for it.
Kovarian took Melody from her and returned the infant to the bassinet at the front of the room. Amy was right on Kovarian's trail though and stole a last look at Melody. "He's the last of his kind. He looks young, but he's lived for hundreds and hundreds of years. And wherever they take you, Melody, however scared you are, I promise you, you will never be alone." She leaned down and kissed Melody's forehead. "Because this man is your father."
~ 0 ~
A grim Avalon awaited in the console room for the Doctor and Rory to return, practically at the doors. Eventually, the two men entered the TARDIS and took a long breath. It'd been another close one but a very good success.
Avalon and the Sapling had promptly waited for them to return, but the former looked close to bursting from anger.
"Good moment?" Avalon crossed her arms with a raised eyebrow. "Success? Victory?"
"I think you know," Rory pointed at her, moving to give her a hug but Avalon stepped back, making him sigh.
"You don't get hugs until my lockdown is lifted," she snapped and looked at the Doctor next, "Goes for you too."
"Ava, we've been through this," the Doctor began as he followed her towards the console with Rory.
"Give it a rest, big brother, it's not gonna work," Lena Reynolds poked her head from behind the console rotor. "Better spend your time over here to get that location the Cybermen told us."
The Doctor grumbled under his breath but followed Lena's suggestion. She'd been recruited after ganger Amy had been deactivated in hopes of finding the real Amy faster. Apart from that, Avalon had been set into a deep, serious lockdown in the TARDIS after the events in the ganger factory. Avalon literally screamed, thrashed and at one point was locked in her bedroom, but nothing would get through to her. They were trying to keep her safe and in return she wanted to kill them.
The only thing that somewhat calmed her was bringing Lena along. It'd worked so far but Avalon already had thin patience. One month was about it.
~ 0 ~
"C'mon, at least let me help get the people," Avalon was following the Doctor around the console, resorting to bugging the hell out of him until he agreed, like always. The screaming hadn't helped and the fact she'd kicked him in the shin definitely didn't do any favors.
She would resort to old fashioned begging.
"Avalon, you know the rules. You need to stay in here for your own safety."
"Oh c'mon! You've sent Lena to pick up a Silurian! That right there was very irresponsible!"
"Vastra is an old friend and she wouldn't hurt anyone...anymore," the Doctor kept his gaze fixated on the controls because the moment he met Avalon's begging eyes, he would fall right for it.
"This is ridiculous! You can't keep me in here, you know!? I do have rights! I should know, I've been in an actual jail!"
"I could very well drop you off at UNIT," the Doctor warned, or threatened, whichever one would make her understand. "I'm sure an old friend of mine wouldn't mind keeping an eye on you."
"What?" frowned Avalon. "You are beyond ridiculous! I can't believe you're not using one of your biggest assets to get Amy back! This is beyond me - this is about our friend who was kidnapped! With her baby!"
"I know that!" he snapped, finally turning to her. At least she wasn't begging anymore. "And it's because I've already lost Amy that I'm not risking you! Never you, Avalon."
Avalon paused at his sudden softness. "Don't do that," she said after a moment.
"Don't do wh-"
"-don't go all soft and mushy on me when it doesn't mean a damn thing," she snapped. "I'm tired of it. At least your ganger had the decency to be honest before we let him die."
"Oh, here we go again!" the Doctor flapped his arms in frustration. Every damn time they had an argument, his stupid ganger would come up in the conversation. It drove the Doctor crazy not knowing what his ganger had told Avalon just before they escaped the Flesh. "If you're going to keep bringing that up, the least you can do is tell me what he said that got you so riled up with me!"
"It's the fact that he was able to be honest with me and you can't! That's incredibly sad and each time I remember it hurts, do you get that? It hurts. You hurt me."
Her words punctured each of his hearts. Her eyes had watered up as soon as she said them. That's what got him. She wasn't angry with him, she was disappointed and hurt. Hurt because of him. And he had no idea how to fix it, especially when he didn't have the context.
"Ava," he slowly touched her cheeks until he had successfully cupped her face without being slapped for it. "You need to understand that everything I'm doing is to keep you safe. I can't lose you too. You have to be different."
"Different from what?" she begged for at least one answer to her millions of questions.
"From everyone before you," he smiled sadly. He wanted to change the story so badly, he wasn't letting himself think about himself for one second. All he allowed himself to think about were the people that had come before Avalon who had suffered terrible fates because he hadn't been careful. "Have I ever told you the story of Donna Noble?"
"No, who is she?"
"She is the woman who used to travel with me before you and the Ponds. She was my best friend. She saved the 27 stolen planets from being destroyed. She was so loud and so courageous - you remind me of her sometimes. You even have the ginger hair to match."
Avalon felt the 'but' coming soon. He had never talked about his previous companions and she'd never really dared to ask considering what their endings had probably been. "...what happened to her?"
The Doctor sighed and let his hands drop from her face. "I happened. I was selfish and I wasted a regeneration and put all that energy into a jar. Donna absorbed that energy in what we call a metacrisis. She became part Time Lord and that could never be. She nearly died if I hadn't wiped her memories."
"She...lost her memories?" Avalon gulped. This is what many of her stories of the Doctor didn't contain: the tragic endings of his trips and his companions. "Like...everything?"
"Everything that had to do with me and her travels. Avalon, she was the most important woman in the universe. Different alien species still sing about the Doctor-Donna because of what she did and who she saved. And I had to erase everything from her head. She's off living her life on Earth and I can never see her again. And she can never remember what she did in her travels." It was the first time that Avalon saw true, genuine tears in the Doctor's eyes. He was reliving that terrible moment of his lives, firmly believing it was his fault. "She was my best friend, Avalon, and I lost her. And I've lost people I considered more than a friend. You want to know where the last person I had feelings for is at right now?"
"No-" Avalon's voice had turned frail, full of guilt.
"She's stuck in another universe. I did that to her. Twice. She can never come back."
Avalon felt the twinge of guilt double in that one second. Okay, maybe she hadn't been thinking as logically as he obviously had, but in her defense he wouldn't let her. She just wanted to be with him, be happy together. "I'm sorry," she whispered, bringing one hand to rub her other arm. "I-I didn't think about that stuff. But I mean...Doctor, you never say anything about your past. I stopped asking questions because I assumed that with time you would trust us to tell us on your own."
"It's not about trusting you, it's about how you'll react to it. There are horrors that come with me. Tragedies. And no matter how much I try, I can't stop them. Amy and Rory have already become part of that list- their daughter who was unborn is already on the list. I'm not gonna make that mistake with you. You are where the cycle ends."
Now this Avalon could appreciate because now she knew what he meant. He stopped being cryptic with her and just told her the truth. It was a truth she couldn't discard so easily because it was so important to him, but she wasn't going to let it ruin what she knew could be so good for them both.
She would just need to prioritize first. Her patience could last a bit longer now.
"Okay, I hear you," she said, stepping closer to him. She brought her hands to his face now, smiling encouragingly. "But I'd also like if you heard me."
"Avalon-"
"I propose that for the moment we set aside our differences and work together to get Amy back. Afterwards, we can resume this conversation. Sound fair?"
The Doctor would nod if he didn't already know what her proposal consisted of. "You can't go outside."
Avalon's smile wanted to falter but she kept it right on her face. "You'll find that I do as I please. Besides, it's been one month and they haven't done anything else. I bet their minds are so preoccupied with Amy that they don't even remember about little ole me. Now c'mon, I know who's next on that list of recruitment and I so want to be the one who picks her up."
"No, Avalon. It's just too dangerous."
"It's literally a prison - how much safer can it get? I don't think whoever's behind this is stupid enough to go barging into the highest maximum security prison, do you?"
The Doctor swayed his head, able to see that clear logic. "Well..."
"Please? Please? Please? Please? Please!?" the ginger clung to his arms as she begged, though now she did with a wide smile, "You can even send Rory or Lena with me, if you want. Or you can come, or-"
"Fine," he covered her mouth. See, he shouldn't have looked into her eyes. "But only because it's a prison and I know if River tries anything she'll be shot down."
Avalon took his hand off her mouth and frowned, "Since when did you become so doubtful of River? She's done nothing but help us every time we see her."
"Yeah and half the time it's because she made the mess," the Doctor pointed out. They all loved pointing out how many mistakes he made that River had to come and help fix. "Plus, there's things I've learned about her, things that make me nervous."
"Like what?"
The Doctor gaze on her was long. There was no way he could tell her that a good part of his reluctance with River stemmed from the fact River was meant to harm Avalon. "Future things."
Avalon rolled her eyes. "Oh, well, please, that's more than enough explanation. I completely understand. But you know what, I'm taking Rory to go get River. Thank you!" she gave him a quick hug then started shouting for Rory as she ran into the hallway.
The Doctor really hoped he hadn't messed.
~ 0 ~
In Stormcage, alarms blared as River Song, dressed in a Victorian gowm, swayed her way towards her cell. It nnver got old how frantic the place would get whenever she would pop away for a trip. It wasn't like she wouldn't come back! She stopped in front of a wall phone and picked it up, "Oh, turn it off. I'm breaking in, not out. This is River Song, back in her cell..." She was about to hang up when she thought of something else and pressed the phone back to her ear. "Oh, and I'll take breakfast at the usual time. Thank you!" She finally hung up and continued down the corridor but stopped when she saw two silhouettes in the dark, one specifically dressed as a Roman. "Oh, are you boys dressing up as Romans now? I thought nobody read my memos."
Avalon stepped out of the shadows first with an amused smile, "Your memos are about Roman costumes?" she glanced at Rory, snickering, "This is why I like her!"
Rory shook his head at her and got to business. He wasn't pleased that the Doctor had broken his promise and allowed Avalon out, even if it was to a prison of maximum security. Rory wanted to get out of there fast and return Avalon back to the TARDIS. "Dr. Song? It's Rory, and Avalon. Sorry, have we met yet? Time streams, I'm not quite sure where we are..."
"Yes. Yes, we've met," River nodded, sounding rather sad. Avalon could tell, despite the darkness that surrounded them. "Hello, Rory, Avalon."
"What's wrong?" Avalon asked her, taking a step forwards until Rory gripped her arm to keep her from taking another one.
"It's my birthday," River nervously laughed.
"Oh, happy birthday," Avalon smiled, now understanding her current attire, "That's why you broke out, then. Where'd you go? Victorian London?" River nodded her head. "You know, the Doctor's yet to take us there."
"You'll be there soon enough," River promised, though she didn't look very happy about the idea. Avalon presumed this was another 'spoiler'. River knew something that they couldn't know about yet.
"I hope you didn't go alone, though," Avalon said, hoping to steer the conversation somewhere lighter. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to do much.
"Um...somewhere, with a special someone," River nodded, still forcing a tight smile on her face. She couldn't tell Avalon anything of where they'd gone for her birthday. If she did, she'd have to explain why it was only them two and no Ponds nor Doctor.
"We need your help," Rory declared. Things weren't moving fast enough.
River nodded and went to her cell, pulling out her diary to pinpoint their timelines. "Where are we then?"
"They've taken Amy," Avalon said just as River pinpointed their timelines.
River froze for a moment then turned around with widened eyes. "Demons Run."
"How...how did you know?" Rory blinked as did Avalon.
"I'm from your future. I always know," River tried to keep herself calm as she glanced back at the two, "Why on earth are you wearing that?" she eyed Rory's Roman garbs.
"The Doctor's idea."
"Of course. His rules of engagement," River rolled her eyes, "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."
"Look ridiculous," Avalon remarked with a smirk.
"Have you considered heels?" River joked.
"They've taken Amy. And our baby," Rory was in no mood for jokes at the moment, "The Doctor's getting some people together, we're going after her, but he needs you too."
"I can't," River mumbled, her eyes teary. "Not yet, anyway."
"River?" Avalon was confused by the change of attitude that took place in the brunette. She'd fought so hard with the Doctor to let her come get River and now the woman was going to leave them hanging!?
"This is The Battle of Demons Run," River neared them, "The Doctor's darkest hour. He'll rise higher than ever before and then fall so much further. And...I can't be there till the very end."
"Why not?"
"Because this is it," River shuddered a breath, "This is the day he finds out who I am, when everyone finds out."
"Timelines," Avalon could understand the reason and had to resign her insistence. But just as River had explained, her expression turned frantic.
"Avalon you need to stay away from that place! Demons Run is where everything happens - it's where you are in most danger!"
Avalon groaned. "Not you too, River. You're sounding just like everyone else."
But River was adamant to be heard. "I am serious! You know why the Doctor will fall the hardest here than any other time he's had battles? Because of you."
Avalon's eyebrows knitted together, frankly offended that now it was all being blamed on her. "What, so it's my fault things go wrong?"
"No, it's mine," River didn't hesitate to answer, startling both Avalon and Rory. "I should've been more ready, but I wasn't and now I need the Doctor to step up and keep you safe. You need to stay in the TARDIS until it's all over." River's eyes flickered to Rory, pleading him to heed her warning.
Rory didn't need to be told twice what he already knew. But now if River was begging for the same thing, then there must be a serious good reason. "She's been in the TARDIS this whole time. She only came for you."
"Yeah and you're making me look bad here," Avalon folded her arms, deeply scowling. "What the hell, River!?"
"Tell the Doctor that he needs to listen to me," River told Rory as if Avalon wasn't shooting her daggers.
"You got it," Rory nodded and this time held Avalon's arm tightly as they headed back for the TARDIS
~ 0 ~
This time there was no getting discussion with the Doctor. Once he heard what River told them, he had no hesitation to shout like Avalon - making it an interesting fight when they both matched volumes - until she got the point that she wouldn't be leaving the TARDIS.
"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" Avalon was as red as her hair, possibly more. "You can't just bench me!"
"Oh I can and I am," the Doctor leveled her glare with his own. And given his age, he had a better one than Avalon...but not by much. "You are staying here with Lena-" he gestured to the woman in question who was being forced to watch the entire argument unfold, "-and taking control of the TARDIS."
"Avalon, if River says this is what has to happen then we should follow it," Lena chimed in only to get the same hard look from Avalon. "She's from the future, she knows what happens."
"Today's the day I start hating River," Avalon resolved. "Only question is will you be added to the list?" she landed her hard, blue eyes on the Doctor.
"If it means keeping you safe then so be it," he resolved as well. "I told you I wasn't making the same mistakes again."
He could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears at this point. She walked up a few steps until she could better look him in the eyes. There were so many words running through her head right now, but she wanted to find the words that would sting the most. It was one of her flaws. She would default to hurting people one way or another in retaliation.
"You know what?" she raised her head, allowing him to see how serious she was. "I bet that when you had to wipe Donna's memories you didn't give her a choice either, huh?"
The right words indeed.
She saw the pain strike across the Doctor's face in two seconds flat. There was a hint of betrayal, asking her how could she turn that against him when it was such a difficult memory to share.
She tilted her head to the side, letting him know that she was studying the effects of her words on him. "Remember me when you're out there, winning or losing. I'm supposed to be your friend, someone you value apparently, yet you won't let me make my own choice. Some Fairy Tale Man you are." She turned around and stormed into the hallway.
The Doctor was left to process her strong sting until he remembered Lena was still there. She was gazing at him sympathetically, and perhaps sorrowfully.
"I'm sorry about her," Lena felt compelled to apologize on behalf of her sister. Despite not knowing what Avalon was talking about, it clearly hurt the Doctor a lot. "When she's angry she'll say anything to win. Once she's cooled off she'll realize how insensitive she was. I'm not excusing her, I'm just telling you what's going to happen...in case you don't want to forgive her for that."
A brief smile appeared on the Doctor's face. "Please," his sarcastic tone pretty much stated he would always forgive Avalon. "Ava is Ava and that's who she needs to be...who I want her to be."
Lena nodded and did patiently wait for him to finish that sentence but when he didn't, she did. "Because you like her. A lot." For once, Lena was satisfied to be the one who left the Doctor speechless. She didn't have a lot moments like those. "I've always known, big brother," she shrugged. "Just like I've always known where my sister's feelings lie. That's why you're so upset with each other, right?"
"Baby sister, I really think this is not the time to discuss such matters. We have Amy and her baby to find," the Doctor turned to the console. They were about to finally land where Amy was and that required all of his attention.
Lena sighed but gave a nod of her head. "But are you sure you're going to be able to concentrate?"
"Oh, I'm not worried about me," the Doctor said, clearly lying but there was something else he was thinking about it. "I'm worried about you considering you're going to be stuck in here with Avalon."
Lena laughed softly. "Well, the Sapling will be here with me too."
"Oh, he's just as angry as his mother," the Doctor shook his head. The Sapling had gotten both his and Avalon's anger and that was a very poor combination. He might self combust if he didn't calm down soon.
"I'll be okay with them, but to be honest..." Lena tilted her head to the side, "I don't know how long Avalon is going to last in here. She's kind of like you. Staying still isn't for her, much less when someone she loves is in danger."
The Doctor solemnly nodded. He knew that too, which was why he needed to work fast.
~ 0 ~
Madame Kovarian was an astute woman, not to mention an incredible actress. Her base was being overran by the Doctor and his army that foolishly thought they were winning. All she had to do was pretend to be afraid that her plan was going to ruins.
"I need to get off this station," she ordered the nearest soldier with her. "Bring me the child and prepare the Silence."
"Yes, ma'am," the soldier nodded and went off with another soldier to retrieve the infant.
"Ma'am, the Silence?" another of the soldiers reluctantly asked. None of the soldiers - none of the army for that matter - were that happy with Kovarian's decision to work with the Silence. From the very beginning they felt like the Silence would do whatever they wanted, dismissing Kovarian's orders. For the record, they hadn't yet, but no one trusted those creatures. Who could trust a creature they couldn't remember?
After they'd been killed off on Earth - yet another warning from their Colonel to keep their eyes peeled when it came to the Doctor - everyone figured Kovarian was done with the Silence. After all, they'd done their part in the job. They cared for the child while she grew up. They were supposed to be over now.
"They're not done here," Kovarian rounded into a new hallway, quickening her pace each time she heard a different bullet downstairs. "The Silence has yet to retrieve the girl for me."
"But we have the child, ma'am," the soldier insisted, briefly exchanging glances with his other comrades. They were all just as nervous. "The infant. Isn't that what we needed?"
"Yes, but I want the other one too," Kovarian said and finally stopped in front of the airlock that would bring her to her own private ship. She turned around and prepared to wait for the infant to be handed over. "I cannot leave with just one."
"So the Silence are still here, then?" the soldier, just like the rest, started looking around with nervous eyes.
Kovarian smirked. "They never left. They will do the other job and bring me the girl. All we have to do now is wait. And watch." Her smirk widened at the thought of what was coming. "Watch how the Doctor will 'win' before he truly falls."
~ 0 ~
"This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong!" Avalon shouted at the TARDIS monitor as if the people on the other side of the screen could hear. Her hand was gripping the console in utter fury.
"Avalon, stop that," Lena scolded her sister and had to physically pry Avalon's hands off the console.
"Mother, I've never seen your face get so red!" the Sapling said and because Avalon caught his fearful face, she calmed down a bit.
"Sorry," she apologized and exhaled heavily. "I just...I should be out there! I should be helping!"
"Yeah, me too," the Sapling folded his arms and pouted like only a child would. "I can literally grow up like a giant and Father still didn't let me go out!"
"First of all, you're a child," Lena wagged a finger at him. "And second of all, Avalon, you know they're just trying to help and I think you were fairly rude to the Doctor. In fact, you were horrible to him." Avalon rolled her eyes but even as she looked away, Lena could see the guilt on her face. "I don't know what the hell you were talking about in the end, but I know that really hurt him."
Avalon's gaze slowly fell to the bright floor. Of course she knew she'd hurt him. That was the point. She turned back to the monitor and watched through their security feed the battle that was unfolding on the main bridge. The Doctor had disappeared after causing mass pandemonium. The strange part was that they'd lost visual on Kovarian too. She started switching through the security feed, watching Vastra the Silurian and her human wife Jenny basically kick soldiers' asses near the control room and in the next were several soldiers running down the hallway with a bassinet in hand.
"They have the baby!" she exclaimed.
Lena rushed to her sister's side, as did the Sapling, and saw the same thing Avalon had found. The bassinet bounced with each step the soldiers too. "We have to let them know!" Lena said.
Avalon moved along the console with natural speed, her fingers already knowing exactly which controls to use. Lena raised an eyebrow at her sister, her expression question enough.
"He finally taught me how to drive the TARDIS," Avalon answered quietly, momentarily pausing.
"Oh Avalon," Lena sighed. "You really have to control that tongue of yours."
Avalon blinked away the tears in her eyes and focused on getting through to someone. "Yeah, I know, I'm an outright bitch."
"I didn't say that-"
"You didn't have to," snapped Avalon, but not necessarily at her sister. It was information she already knew based on everything she had lived before coming to the TARDIS.
"Are you calling father?" the Sapling trailed after his mother, nonethewiser of the conversation around him.
"I'm trying but as usual he's not answering," Avalon groaned. "Maybe he should have a cellphone or something! Nobody's answering! Lena!" Lena flinched at the sudden call of her name. "Watch the monitor! Tell me what's going on!"
"Right!" Lena hurried back to the monitor and started going through each camera. "Uh, well, I see Rory! He's gone off with someone else in the hallway! Oh! Vastra and Jenny have gotten into the control room! Ah! Those monk things - they've nearly taken care of an entire room! Don't look Sapling." She ushered the Sapling away from the monitor. "Avalon, they brought the bassinet to Kovarian!"
"They did what!?" Avalon screeched. "That's it! I'm going out there!"
"No you can't!"
"The Doctor can yell at me all he wants - I deserve it, I know, but it's a baby! And more importantly, it's Amy's and Rory's baby! I'm going to be good for once!" Avalon turned and dashed for the doors.
"Avalon, please don't!" Lena went after her but Avalon yanked open the doors.
"Just stay inside, Lena. You and the Sapling will be just fine in here!" Avalon smiled at her sister and child before running out.
"Oh God, my big brother's going to be very crossed with me," Lena hurried for the monitor in hopes of finding where the Doctor was at the moment. She kept going through tabs again until a Silence popped on her screen. She yelped and stumbled back as if the creature would come out from the screen. "Not you again, definitely not you again..."
'I know you can see me, Reynolds,' the fact it was actually talking to her made her yelp again. 'You have come to us just like you're meant to. Now you will come with us. Tick, tock..."
"Aunt Lena, he looks like the Scream," the Sapling had moved over to the monitor but as soon as he did Lena pushed him away.
"No, you stay there! And listen to me, Sapling, because right now you're the only one who's going to remember. You can't see him which means he can't affect you. Remind me that I saw him, and that he's threatening to take my sister."
"But how do you know he's talking about Mother?"
"Because it's always about my sister," Lena regrettably said. "I don't know what it is about my sister but there's always something threatening her, like-like she's just destined to be. Just remind me, okay? Remind me when I look away. We need to find the Doctor."
The Sapling nodded.
~ 0 ~
The Doctor had made his way to the control room where Vastra, Jenny and another old friend(ish) Dorium were in. They were so close to finally getting the hell out of that place, but he had to admit the dark satisfaction he felt knowing that the entire was but one step away from crumbling into nothing.
He sat in front of the controls and turned his chair just as Strax the Sontaran brought in Colonel Mantel, the leader of the army they'd basically destroyed and were now mere stragglers. "Sorry, Colonel Manton, I lied. Three minutes, 42 seconds."
"Colonel Manton, you will give the order for your men to withdraw," Strax ordered.
"No. Colonel Manton... I want you to tell your men to run away," the Doctor told the man instead.
"You...what?" Manton raised an eyebrow, not quite following.
"Those words. Run away. I want you to be famous for those exact words. I want people to call you Colonel Run-Away. I want children laughing outside your door, cos they've found the house of Colonel Run-Away," he stood up and pointed at him, "And, when people come to you, and ask if trying to get to me through the people I love... is in any way a good idea... I want you to tell them your name. Oh, look! I'm angry. That's new-" his voice hardened, as did his eyes. He walked up to the man and looked him in the eyes, his lips curling into a smirk when the Colonel visibly gulped. "I'm really not sure what's going to happen now."
Two more Silurians walked into the control room and with them came Kovarian. Despite her situation, she didn't seem that upset. "The anger of a good man is not a problem. Good men have too many rules," she had the foul decency to speak.
The Doctor slowly looked back at her. He forgot about the Colonel and moved onto her instead. "Good men don't need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many."
Kovarian glanced at Manton calmly. "Give the order," she surprised everyone in the room with that statement, "Give the order Colonel Run-Away."
~ 0 ~
Amy was surprised as she heard a knocking on the door. She was pretty nervous given what was going on downstairs. Quickly, she tried to find something to use for protection, "Who's that? Who's there?" she called and picked up a thermometer, eyeing it with hesitation, "You watch it, cos I'm armed and really dangerous and...cross!" Of course once she heard Rory's voice she froze, wondering if it was truly him. "Rory?"
"Yeah, it's me!" he called back, "Hang on a minute."
"They took her. Rory, they took our baby away," she explained with shame, feeling like it was her fault her baby had been taken away. She should have fought stronger for her daughter.
But the doors slid open to reveal Rory holding Melody in his arms. "Now, Mrs Williams...that is never, ever going to happen."
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God," Amy dashed for him and Melody. She took her daughter into her arms and quickly checked her for any visible injury. "Where's she been, what have they done to her..."
"She's fine. Amy, she's fine. I checked," Rory promised her. As soon as he had his daughter in arms, he made sure that she was safe and clear of any mark. He didn't want to let her go until he was with Amy. "She's beautiful. Oh God, I was going to be cool. I wanted to be cool. Look at me." The tears just kept pooling in his eyes.
Amy laughed at him but she was crying too. "Crying Roman with a baby, definitely cool. Come here, you!" she grabbed him with her free arm and kissed him.
The Doctor had found the room but not with a pretty view. "Ugh, kissing and crying, I'll be back in a bit."
"Oi, you," Rory snapped his fingers at him. "Get in here, now." The Doctor shrugged and happily came into the room. "My daughter. What do you think?"
The baby could barely blink at him but she did squeal, although he didn't think it was for her. She was just happy to see people that weren't so mean to her mother.
"Hello. Hello, baby," the Doctor waved at the baby girl.
"Melody," Amy cut in.
"Melody! Hello, Melody Pond! "
"Melody Williams," Rory was getting tired of the name switches.
"..is a geography teacher," Amy shook her head, "Melody Pond is a superhero!"
The Doctor leaned over to listen as Melody gurgled, "Well, yes, I suppose she does smell nice. Never really sniffed her, maybe I should give it a go. Amelia Pond, c'mere!" he hugged the new mother.
"Doctor!" she exclaimed.
"I'm sorry we were so long."
"It's OK, I knew you were coming. All of you," Amy smiled but her eyes did search behind the two men. "Well, where's Avalon? She needs to meet my daughter. She's got a lot of singing to do cos this one-" she nodded to Melody, "-likes the singing!"
"Um, Avalon's a bit indisposed right now," the Doctor's eyes flickered to the side. "Actually, I was thinking of letting her burn this place down afterwards and see if that'll cool her down."
Amy arched an eyebrow at him but since he was looking at her now, she turned her attention to Rory. "What did you two do?" she assumed they were both in on it, otherwise Rory would be upset.
"The necessary," Rory answered without hesitation. He stood by all the choices they'd made so far. "Avalon's going to be safe."
"Doctor! Take a look," Vastra entered the room, "They're leaving," and she pointed at the large glass window on the side of the room, "Demons Run is ours without a drop of blood spilled. My friend, you have never risen higher!" she cheered while the Doctor looked out and saw the army leaving the base.
Though behind him, Rory swallowed hard when he remembered River's words earlier.
~ 0 ~
The Doctor had made a hasty return to the control room, along with Vastra, when he heard Lena's voice frantically calling through the speakers. When the hell did Lena get out of the TARDIS? And if she was out of the TARDIS then Avalon...
"I'm so sorry!" Lena practically cried to him when he reached the control room. "She just...she saw the soldiers taking the baby and she ran out to help!"
"Course she would," the Doctor rubbed a hand over his face. "Okay, okay, it's fine because..." he laughed nervously, "The soldiers are leaving anyways and-and everything is safe. Everyone is safe. She is safe."
"Um, Doctor?" Dorium called from his seat. "I've hacked into the software. Wasn't very complicated given that I sold it to them. But I've, uh, I've found something interesting."
"More interesting than this entire place and plan of that woman's?" Lena asked, thinking it probably paled to everything they'd gone through so far. "And did you know there's Silence here? The Sapling told me that!"
"There are no Silence here, Lena," the Doctor said dismissively as he gazed at the screen.
"I thought that too but the Sapling was very adamant that I told him to remind me."
"Lena, let's focus on the plans here and then we'll see about the Silence."
Lena agreed but only because the Doctor already seemed so lost on whatever was on the screen. "So, what is it, then?"
"It's records about the child," Dorium replied. "They are very extensive."
"They've been scanning her since she was born and I think they found what they were looking for," Dorium pulled up a tab on the large screen with a DNA module.
"Human DNA," the Doctor assumed as he moved closer with Lena.
"Look closer," Vastra instructed, "Human plus. Specifically...human plus Time Lord."
"But that's..." Lena looked at the Doctor, "Did I get my biology wrong or..."
"She's human," the Doctor blinked, just as confused as Lena was. He didn't even know why they were having this conversation in the first place. "She's Amy and Rory's daughter."
"You told me about your people. They became what they did through prolonged exposure to the time vortex," Vastra reminded, "The untempered schism..."
"Over billions of years, it didn't just happen!"
"So how close is she? Could she even regenerate?"
"No, no! I don't think so..."
Vastra raised an eyebrow, "You don't sound so sure."
"Because I don't understand how this happened!" the Doctor snapped at her and looked back at the screen again with no clue in his mind. None of it made sense!
"Which leads me to ask... when did it happen?"
"When?" Lena raised an eyebrow, "Are you really asking that?"
"I'm afraid so," Vastra nodded.
"When?" the Doctor still hadn't caught up.
"I am trying to be delicate...I know how you can blush," Vastra pointed and Lena couldn't help but giggle, "When did this baby... begin?"
The Doctor's face did indeed flush at the question, "Oh, you mean..."
"Quite."
"Oh c'mon you guys, you're not really gonna sit here and try to pinpoint a time of conception...are you?" Lena looked between the two, almost laughing if the situation wasn't so dire.
"She's right," the Doctor pointed at her, "That's all human-y, private stuff, it just sort of...goes on. They don't put up a balloon, or anything."
"But could the child have begun on the TARDIS, in flight, in the vortex," Vastra began.
"No, no, impossible!" the Doctor cut her off, "It's all running about, sexy fish vampires and blowing up stuff. And Rory wasn't even there at the beginning. Then he was dead, then he didn't exist, then he was plastic. Then I had to reboot the whole universe...long story. So technically the first time they were on the TARDIS together, in this version of reality, was on their..." his eyes widened as the realization struck him.
"Oh..." Lena had also caught up on the date.
"On their what?" Vastra dreaded to ask.
"On their wedding night," the Doctor swallowed hard, "But that doesn't make sense! You can't just cook yourself a Time Lord."
"Of course not, but you gave them one hell of a start and they've been working very hard ever since."
"And they truly have," Dorium agreed before pulling up another screen. "Kovarian's team spreads through time and space, Doctor. They've been keeping record of somebody, alright. Take a look."
The screen page he had was full of a list of names, titles, for documents. Upon a closer look, they were discovered to be videos too.
"Big brother," Lena suddenly called, her voice frail with newfound fear, "Why do all of these have my sister's name on them?"
The Doctor had noticed that detail straightaway. He didn't answer the question as instead he practically pushed Dorium's chair away to take reign over the controls. He started scrolling through the page, finding it to be endlessly filled with different videos and documents. He got more frustrated the longer the list became. Finally, his finger accidentally clicked on one title.
Avalon was a teenager, perhaps fifteen or so, and she was in her school uniform. She was angry as hell - which was confirmation that this was truly Avalon - and raging to Rory about something. The audio wasn't very comprehensible but it was clear when she managed to make a dent against a street pole with her bare fist. The act froze Avalon, and Rory, in her spot. She brought her fist, which was turning purple fast, and then checked the pole to make sure it'd been her who did it.
"She was always so freakishly strong," Lena whispered, eyes fresh with tears as dread took her over.
"...as are some Time Lords," Vastra made her comment knowing the reaction she would get from the Doctor.
"Don't you even go there," he pointed a finger at her face, nearly poking one of her eyes out. "I won't hear such a stupid idea, such a-a completely insane idea!"
"You said the Silence had been after you and your friends for months," Vastra continued calmly despite having the wrath of the man radiating towards her. "Who's to say that they weren't after just one of you? They already had Amy..."
"But this is Avalon!"
"Precisely. What exactly are her medical records?" Vastra's eyes flickered to Lena for the answer.
"U-um, well...I don't know?" the woman meekly answered, shrugging her shoulders. "I mean...I never really saw them. But..." she hated where she was going with the conversation, "There is the fact that she's adopted."
"Really?" Vastra raised a scale-green eyebrow at the Doctor. The man refused to even entertain the idea, so he turned away. "Adopted?"
"Yeah," Lena nodded her head. "I mean, we don't know who her birth mother is and we're not entirely sure if my Dad is her Dad so..."
"There is a possibility that the child..." Vastra purposely didn't finish until the Doctor would finally give her the attention she needed.
"No!" he snapped at her and basically everyone in the room. "Absolutely not! Avalon is not a Time Lord! She's from New Earth! She's not - she's not their daughter! I think I would have noticed if I was carrying the whole family!"
"...but would you have, though?" Lena's meek question made him pause.
He was growing angrier by the second, but his anger wasn't exactly directed at them. It was more to himself. If this was real, and he had missed it...he would never forgive himself. "She can't be Melody because...because her name's not even Melody," he stuttered the answer as if he was now just trying to convince himself it wasn't real.
"Pull up her records, Dorium," Vastra commanded the blue alien. "The infant's and the woman's. If they are the same, Doctor, then this is most certainly not over. In fact, don't you think this was too easy?"
The Doctor's body nearly shook. He couldn't have missed this, no he couldn't have. His head was spiraling though with all the details he knew about Avalon, the ones he couldn't figure out back then.
Her insomnia?
Time Lords didn't need that much sleep. He went about a week or two without it. Avalon went days without it.
Time Lords had more strength than the average human. Avalon had always displayed her 'freakish' strength in situations. She wasn't in control of it sometimes but she always made a good show of it.
Time Lords' brains were far different than other species.
"I see things differently, I think differently, my brain is just...wired differently. And nobody seems to be able to catch up." Avalon had told him on the first day she came into the TARDIS that she felt like she was ahead of everyone else, and he didn't see it.
The wire. The wire in her brain that was connected differently, that set her apart from everyone else. Why could she remember things that nobody else could? Amy and Lena forgot about the Daleks and the 27 stolen planets, but Avalon didn't. It was in the back of her mind. Amy forgot about Rory after he was erased from existence, but Avalon was aware that she'd forgotten things.
"Big brother?" Lena cautiously touched his arm. He'd gone off in silence and little by little, the expression on his face changed. "What do you think?"
For a few seconds, everyone waited for him to answer.
She's outside of the TARDIS. His eyes zoomed to the door. 'In fact, don't you think this was too easy?' She was outside. And it was too easy.
"AVALON!" He erupted into terrified screams. He bolted out of the door and ran as fast as he could. "AVALON! AVALON!"
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What Makes Us Stronger Ch. 4: The Darkness I've Known In You
Hey y'all! First of all, I want to apologize for taking so long to upload the new chapter. Life has been hectic! I finished college, my mom passed away two months ago, and i have no job, so as you can imagine, I haven’t been on the right mood to write, but anyway, here’s the new chapter and I hope you guys enjoy it! As always, English isn’t my first language, this chapter was unbeta'ed and all mistakes are my own. Enjoy! Also posted on AO3.
The rain hit the ground in the Parisian autumn as the battle kept unfolding in the Eiffel Tower. Ladybug and Chat Noir managed to avoid the blows of Hawkmoth’s cane barely, struggling, strike after strike, to keep up with his unrelenting pace.
This time, Hawkmoth didn’t want to steal their miraculous, no, this time, he was aiming to kill. Desperation brought him to a point where he decided to take the matter into his hands and stop sending his champions after them, and instead, for the first time in almost seven years, he showed up himself.
As unexpected as it was, Ladybug and Chat were doing their best to defeat Hawkmoth once and for all. Without a plan, without more allies, they run into battlefield, prepared to face what would be their last battle.
With the intention of not taking unnecessary risks, they had agreed not to use their special powers until they had effectively cowered Hawkmoth which resulted easier said than done. “We’re wasting too much time, Chat!” Marinette yelled at her partner, keeping an eye on Hawkmoth, who was in turn scanning the area, “We’re exhausting our kwamis and won’t be able to use our powers if we keep waiting for a safe exit.”
Chat considered her words, wiping away the sweat that glistened in his forehead, “he’s being impulsive, maybe we can use it to our advantage,” Chat peeked out from his hiding place to see Hawkmoth ascending the Eiffel Tower. Then, he had an idea. “Do you trust me my lady?” He asked, standing up to face Ladybug, who wore a puzzical expression, “You know I do, Chaton. I trust you with my life.”
Ladybug didn’t like the direction their brief conversation was heading to, and reading her as well as he did, Chat immediately cupped her face between his hands and whispered softly “I promised I’d protect you no matter what, remember? You’re my home, Marinette, the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me. ” She started to shake, holding back the tears that were pooling in her eyes, and sensing her distress, he quickly placed his lips upon hers. Although they had decided not to show openly their affections during battles, he couldn’t help himself, hugging her tightly against his chest as Ladybug placed her hands on his shoulders, practically clinging to him.
“Chat, please, don’t do anything stupid. I need you,” she said pleadingly, to which he only smiled at her, nodding, “I know, LB, but for once, do as I say and stay here, okay? I’ll tell you when it’s safe to come up and cleanse his miraculous.” With a last kiss in her forehead, he pulled away, and started to climb the Eiffel Tower, not before turning around and mouthing the words ‘I love you’.
Their kwamis had told them once that they balanced each other. While one brought death, the other brought life. But they had omitted to mention that, most of the time, when the Black Cat and the Ladybug fell in love, one of them died tragically protecting the other. It was inevitable, and over the time, Tikki learned to accept their fate, embracing with love every Ladybug, while Plagg tried his hardest not to show too much emotion, in a way he protected himself and his holder, in case they lost they beloved one. Thus, Ladybug could do nothing but to watch the cruel battle before her eyes, waiting for Chat to call her over.
“It’s over, Hawkmoth,” Chat said as he stood in a defensive stance, “When your miraculous runs out of time, you’re gonna give it to us. We can help you, Ladybug can.”
“No one can help me, you insolent boy,” Hawkmoth angrily answered, watching Chat’s every move. “You think this is about power? About ruling the world? It is not. I’m above all those false pretenses of superiority. All I need is your miraculous.” Chat stared confused at the villain, trying to put a meaning to his words. “Then what is it, Hawkmoth? You’re acting like the big baddie here, and yet you say you don’t want that kind of power. It’s difficult to believe it.” Chat ran towards Hawkmoth, ready to deliver a hit with his baton, but the older man effectively reflected the hit with his cane, avoiding him. “It’s your last chance, Hawkmoth. We can stop everything here, just give us Nooroo back!”
Hawkmoth ignored the young hero back, and send a wave of furious akumas to attack Chat Noir. He called for his cataclysm and calculating the villain’s next move, Chat advanced slowly. When the villain moved to avoid Chat, a piece of paper that fell from the pocket of the purple jacket that Hawkmoth wore. He didn’t notice it, but Chat did, and with his feline alike reflexes, he picked it up and froze in that moment. A young woman with green eyes and blonde hair stared back at him, and from the distance, Chat barely heard the growl that came from deep inside Hawkmoth. “I will save her. My Cecilia will live again, and neither will you or Ladybug stop me!”
Horrified by the sudden knowledge of who the man behind the mask was, Chat turned slowly. But instead of accepting the truth, Chat softly asked “Cecilia? Is this your wife?” Forgetting that he had called for his cataclysmic, he dropped the picture and placed both hands on the bannister that held his weight. “How could you do this to her, Gabriel?” Unfazed by the hero’s question, Hawkmoth creeped behind him, noticing the rusty metal in which Chat was leaning on. “This will save her and my family.” He whispered coldly, and when the young hero turned around, he called once more another wave of akumas, sending Chat Noir effectively to the ground.
Ladybug observed carefully the scene before her, and was confused by her partner’s attitude. Whatever Hawkmoth told him, was affecting him. Not wanting to waste another minute, she climbed up to where they were, and before she could reach the top, he heard the scream of Chat Noir and a black silhouette flying to the ground. The shock and fear that Ladybug felt then was quickly replaced with anger as the black figure hit the pavement and a green light illuminated the area. Jumping down as fast as she could, she landed next to Adrien’s body.
“Adrien?” Ladybug fell on her knees as she stared at the lifeless body of her partner. His blonde hair was now covered by mud and blood, his face and body covered in huge bruises. Carefully, she took him in her arms, running her hands through his hair. “Adrien, please open your eyes.” Ladybug got no response, and in that moment she released her transformation, not caring if someone was out there watching her.
Weakly, Tikki flied to where Plagg had landed, a few inches from his holder. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and looked at the ladybug kwamii, her expression telling him everything he needed to know. “I tried, Tik, I swear I did,” his eyes then glistened with unshed tears and Tikki nodded, her big, blue eyes closing for a moment to try to keep hers from falling. She knew what would happen next, and although this wasn’t the first time, she wasn’t ready to let her soul mate go. “I’ll see you again, Tik. We always do.” Plagg took her small hand in his, and Tikki nodded. “Take care of your bug. She’ll need you.” With a last smile, Plagg evaporated in a green cloud that was swallowed by the ring that Adrien still had in his hand. He would stay there until the next holder was chosen by the Great Master. “Goodbye, Plagg.” The red kwamii whispered to the green cloud, and then moved over to the distressed Marinette, taking her place upon her shoulder.
Marinette was inconsolable, but when she felt Hawkmoth’s presence, she looked up, ready to fight if needed. “Your turn, Ladybug,” Hawkmoth gave her a wicked grin and lifted his cane, ready to strike, but then she lowered the body of her partner on the cold concrete to stand up, and in that moment, Hawkmoth felt his world falling apart.
“No, no it can be. Chat Noir can’t be…” He was breathing heavily. He released his transformation and stared down at the fallen superhero. to give up when she met Hawkmoth’s eyes staring back at her. “Your turn, Ladybug,” he whispered, closing the distance between them.
A new wave of fury invaded Marinette as she saw the man who was responsible for the death of Adrien. His own father had caused it, and with the little strength that she still had, Marinette launched forward, causing Gabriel to lose his balance. She pummeled him angrily, part of her feeling an strange satisfaction with every strike as he remained still. Tikki couldn’t let her chosen lost herself to the anger and grief, so she flied between them, and with her most severe voice, the red kwamii ordered her to stop.
“But he killed Adrien! He killed his own son, Tikki!” Marinette argued, and Tikki sadly nodded, “And he took Plagg away, too, but this is not the answer. Beating him will not bring Adrien back. I know it hurts Marinette, but you need to stop immediately.” Marinette looked at her kwamii before shaking her head. Then she stood up and took again her place besides Adrien. “You’re a monster, Gabriel, and I hope you feel what I’m feeling right now. That, and knowing that the blood of your own son is in your hands, will be enough punishment.”
—–
The funeral had been simple. While the news reported the death of Paris’ hero, Chat Noir, only a small group of people knew about Adrien’s death. No one questioned why Marinette sat besides the coffin with a plain expression and eyes almost dry from crying, while Gabriel sat on the corner, away from everybody.
Before the coffin was finally closed, Marinette said her last goodbye to Adrien, and made sure that he still had his silver ring. In her mind, she knew Plagg would be there, too, taking care of him. What she didn’t expect was to see Gabriel doing the same thing, placing something inside Adrien’s jacket that she couldn’t quite distinguish. She let that small fact go, as she returned to her apartment. She had refused to stay with her parents or with Alya. She needed to be alone for the inevitable break down.
Gabriel returned to his mansion, feeling lonely as ever. He moved through his house until he reached Cecilia’s room. He saw her for a moment before moving to her side to take her hand. “He will come back,” he assured her, getting no response. “He will come back, and when he does, will be a family again.”
——–
Marinette opened her eyes, feeling dizzy and confused. ‘Where am I?’ She thought to herself as the memories from the previous couple of hours hit her. She remembered her talk with Gabriel, and then the man who was the vivid image of Adrien. But no, that was impossible, he couldn’t be her Chat, he was….
“Feeling better, pruuuuncess?” The man purred, and she looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice. “Who are you?” She timidly asked, taking in her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was that she was chained to a bed, and the room was poorly illuminated. She touched her earlobes and took in a deep breath in panic. Whoever this man was, had taken her miraculous and Tikki with them.
“Don’t you worry about it, my Lady. You’re safe here.” The voice responded and in the corner of her eyes, she spotted a figure almost waltzing towards her.
“Who are you?” Marinette asked again, this time in a more demanding tone, gaining a chuckle from the man. “I think we know the answer. But if you want, I’ll grace you with a name.” The man then stood by the foot of the bed and smiled. His green eyes reflecting a dark aura that she hadn’t seen before.
“You can call me Chat Blanc.”
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