#For you I went to war/For you I got these scars/For us I stand here now/For us I'll never back down || Post MHA Verse

[truly-quirkless]

@penandswords asked:

"So I have a surprise." Rima offers a small box them. Inside is her ultrasound, and 2 matching keychains that read. "grandparents."(TWO little blobs)

[Prompted! || Accepting!]

"You..." He trailed off, sky-blues on the ultrasound. A hand reached into the box, cautiously glancing to Rima, and then back down to the image. Grandparents? Rima was pregnant? "...have you started thinking of baby names?..." He could ask about the man who'd done it later, he didn't want to ruin the moment.

Fin was just in shock that Rima thought of the two of them as grandparents to her potential children. Think of something to say, think of something to say,...

"If the father's a deadbeat, I'll be kickin' his ass and burying him on U. A. grounds." All spoken with a smile,...and tears that Fin wasn't willing to admit they were shedding. "T-they'll. Never find the body." Stop happy-crying, damnit!!!!

[mayajadewrites]

── .✦ Renaissance - Levi Ackerman .✦ ──

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ levi x fem reader

summary: levi leaves you in the underground for the scouts, only for him to find you again in marley when the war is over. however, nothing about you is the same as it once was. you are not the same person you were 12 years ago. cw: canon universe, smut, fluff, yearning ao3 authors note: there are several things in this story that are not canon to the original AOT storyline (like Levi needing a wheelchair) but I will warn you if/when those things come up.

longer chapter today!! let me know what you guys think and as always ily <3

tag list: @ackerboi, @staarflowerr, @midw1nter

preface - chapter one

CHAPTER TWO

Your entire body stood still as your eyes almost frantically took in what you were seeing.

It's him.

Really him.

Both of you stood in silence, just looking at each other from across the room. Levi was wearing a navy blue casual suit, standing as tall as he did when he left.

Your lips let out a gasp when you look at the right side of his face, a scar from his forehead, over his right eye, to his mouth.

You blink to stop the tears from falling, the feelings you've been harboring for years almost coming to the surface.

Levi stood, still as stoic as ever, almost as if you were a stranger to him. But you could see the ever so slight softness in his eye as he places a. crate of tea on the counter.

Neither of you wanted to speak first. You and Levi are both stubborn as hell, and given the fact that it's been 12 years since you last saw each other, someone had to speak.

"You own a tea shop now?" You clear your throat as you look at him sheepishly.

"Yeah." His reply was short as his eyes drank in your appearance. Obviously you've grown up since he left, as did he. The signs of war can be seen all over his face - the way he speaks, the bags under his eyes, the way his hands look battered.

"It's not open yet, but it will be soon. We just got a shipment in of tea from a few towns over." Levi's voice was deep as he moved in front of the counter he was standing behind a minute ago. "How did you get here?"

"That's what you want to say to me? After 12 years?" Your eyebrows scrunch as you look at him, your feelings of empathy now replaced with anger. "You don't ask me how I've been, if I'm okay - just how I got here?"

He only nods as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Yes."

You scoff, shaking your head as you press your palm to your cheek. "You didn't even try to look for me. It's like all those years meant nothing -"

Levi looked away when you said that, avoiding that conversation completely. "Would you like some tea?"

You don't answer, simply staring at him.

"It's on the house."

"No." You finally say, the word tasting like poison in your mouth. You never liked telling Levi no. In your perfect world, you would give him everything he's ever dreamed of.

But you're not in your perfect world.

"Goodbye, Levi." You turn around and walk out of the tea shop, the sun kissing your skin again as the noises of children playing and people laughing fill your ears.

You don't turn around, knowing that Levi was probably standing at the door, watching you leave.

Just like you had to watch him leave.

As days went by, you found the brothel on the outskirts of Marley that was up and running. There were no other options for you - you weren't going to ask Levi for help, and this is the only job you know how to do.

You're in your room at the brothel, filing your nails and getting yourself ready for the night ahead when you hear a knock at your door.

"Come in."

"Hey, a few of us are gonna get some dinner before we all have to work tonight. Wanna join us?" One of the girls, Leona asked. She was nice enough, welcoming to you when you knocked on the brothel's door late at night, asking for a place to sleep in return for working.

You've never really had friends, always in isolation. Even when you had Levi, it was only the two of you.

"Sure, yeah. Let me finish getting ready." You give her a friendly smile as you stand up, moving to the mirror to fix your hair and grabbing your jacket.

A handful of girls from the brothel came to dinner, discussing random things that happened during the day and some funny stories, while getting to know each other. For once, you had a warm plate of food in front of you and company around you.

There wasn't any looming danger that you felt. You didn't feel like you had to hide, or defend yourself.

You just got to live.

Is this what the people beyond the walls got to feel every day?

"So," Leona says your name, taking a sip of her water. "You said you're from the Underground, right? What was that like?"

You shift in your seat, the memories of living in filth, not having food for days, and loneliness creeping into your mind.

"It wasn't anything like this. Think of something light and airy, fun even. The underground is the complete opposite of that.

"You know, I heard that Captain Levi is from the Underground, did you know him?"

You freeze. Your entire body paralyzed.

The girls stared at you for a moment, waiting for your answer as you try to regain some composure.

"Yeah, I knew him. Barely." You lie.

"He's so cute, I've seen him walk by the brothel." One girl gushes, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger.

"Has he ever been in?" You ask curiously.

"No, but I wish. I would give him anything he wanted."

You let out a sigh of relief, one that you shouldn't have had in the first place.

You managed to avoid the rest of the conversation about Levi, the other girls gushing over how cute he is.

They don't know the real, true Levi.

The Levi who would give his life for someone else.

The Levi who slept on the streets in the dead of winter. The Levi that shared a slice of bread with you that had to last you until the next week.

They will never know the real Levi.

Dusk came and went, and customers were starting to trickle their way into the brothel. Most men came to escape their wives or families, or they were just lonely and had money to waste.

You sat in the front room, the house mother watching over the girls and making sure everyone looked decent for tonights clients.

Wearing a curve hugging black dress, the neckline dipping low to show off your assets, your hair in loose curls and light makeup, you were ready for the night.

Another night of meaningless sex. Making men feel better about themselves.

It felt like hours went on when someone finally sat at your table, his footsteps almost silent as he sat.

Without looking up, you speak. "What service are you looking for?" You look down at your nails, examining the nail beds.

"Full service." You heard the deep, familiar voice.

Your eyes shot up to his, your eyebrows subconsciously furrowing in confusion. "Levi? What the hell are you doing here?"

He stayed silent, putting his wallet on the table as he stared into your eyes. "I said full service. You don't need to ask questions."

You look around, the other girls almost gawking at the scene in front of them.

"No."

"You can't refuse to service me, I know how this shit works." He pulls out a wad of money, handing it to you. "There's $3,000 there."

When you look at the money, your eyes grow wide. $3,000? Where did he even get this kind of money?

You stand up and let out a huff before tilting your head to the side, instructing him to follow you to your bedroom.

His footsteps are quite literally almost silent, you almost thought he ran away at one point. But you know better, Levi Ackerman doesn't run away from shit.

When you get to your room, you turn around to face him and almost melt. He's still so handsome. All of the life, the war he saw, only made him more handsome to you.

"How did you know I would be here?"

"What did I say about questions?" Levi slowly unbuttoned his shirt, not breaking eye contact with you. "I came here for full service, not for an interview."

"You know damn well this is not a simple exchange of sex, Levi. And you've never even been here before."

"How would you know that?" He tilts his head in the cutest way that reminds you of when you were teenagers.

"The other girls in here are apparently big fans of yours. They were talking about you today."

"Ah, I see." He nods, loosening his tie as he gazes into your eyes.

"Can you answer one question for me at least?"

"Jesus, you're still as stubborn as ever." He huffs, shaking his head. "No."

"What about after then?" You take a step toward him, pushing your hair over your shoulder. You needed answers. At least some.

"No."

"I know it took a lot for you to come here." Your voice is softer now, plush against your lips.

Levi told you about his mother about 4 years after you met him. All you knew was that his uncle Kenny raised him, but you never heard about his parents.

He always seemed so fearless, like he didn't need anyone else. Maybe that's why you never wanted to pry about his mother.

The night he told you, it was a full moon. Sitting in the streets, leaning against one another for warmth as you talk about the past, as if they were lullabies.

"My mother worked at the brothel." He spoke, his voice timid. "That's where I grew up until Kenny found me."

"Found you?" You turn to look at him, noticing the subtle hurt in his eyes.

"Yeah, she died in our room. She was sick I think, and we were starving most of the time. But she was so beautiful, from what I can remember."

"I bet you look just like her." You give him a reassuring smile, your fingers gently brushing his cheek. "The Ackerman genes are unstoppable."

He gave you a laugh, a real one, one that you wish you could put in a box and listen to forever.

"I was just waiting for the right woman to be here is all." He looks down into your eyes, searching your gaze.

"You're a shit liar." You sigh as you take off your shoes, beginning to undress. "Tell me why you're here."

"For full service."

You groan, your head tilting back in frustration before you look a him, and he has that stupid grin on his face. His scar moves slightly as his lips quirk up - causing you to smile.

Seeing Levi Ackerman smile is like seeing an angel in front of you.

When you look up again, his hands are on your waist, pulling you closer to him when you notice his right hand is missing the index and middle finger. He gripped your body as if you were going to disappear at any moment, his lips crashing into yours in a kiss so bruising that it would be a shame if anyone else kissed you after this.

But you push your palms to his chest, keeping a distance as you look in his eyes. "Levi, enough - tell me what the hell you're doing here."

"For a." He brought his lips to yours again, speaking through kisses. "Full Service." He was starting to lose his breath as he pulled you close to him, your bodies pressed impossibly together. "From you."

[folkloreandfable]

Anemoia

1998, Battle of Hogwarts became a losing endeavor and the Wizarding world was on the brink of collapse. In its crossfire, a desperate soul finds a time turner that transports her all the way back to 1977.

Pairing: James x f!Reader Tags: Time travel AU Warnings: Non-consensual kissing A/N: First fanfiction for the Harry Potter universe. I apologise in advance for any mistakes but I hope you enjoy it. Any replies or feedback are welcome.

Time was a crushed up glass. Slipping between the fingers and leaving jagged etches in its wake that would scar into stories.

Her story was about to end before it could finish, but time looped the threads of fate. Rather, a time turner.

So here she was. Hogwarts, 1977. She only hoped to turn time just enough to make even the most miniscule changes to turn the tides of The Second Wizarding War. But this was far beyond her depth. 

She sought out Dumbledore who understood everything from her disheveled hair, grimy clothes and the now broken time tuner hanging from the neck. After some cleanup and a change of clothes, he introduced her as a transfer student and was sorted to Ravenclaw.

She was acutely aware even the smallest disruption could alter the course of history and result in catastrophe. Her mere existence in this timeline was the biggest one yet.

Her goal was simple. Keep her head down, isolate, and find a way to get home at the right time. She asked headmaster Dumbledore for a new time turner to send her home, but he insisted she stayed with that same twinkle in his eyes.

Solitude was easy, it was how she navigated life back home too. Friendships and romantics was not something she craved. Her only relationship was in the fifth year, it was intellectually stimulating rather than passionate or intimate. They only kissed once within the one-year span of their companionship before parting ways.

The hallowed halls of the castle were oh so familiar yet distant. She was not close with anyone back home, but they are what made it so. She occasionally saw Lily Evans, young Professor Snape, and the Marauders in the halls. Even shared classes. Sometimes she wondered if they would be spared their doomed fate if she told the truth. But that is a gamble that may take a turn for the worse. It was another day at Hogwarts. The halls brimmed with noisy chatter and footsteps. Though the loudest noise was concentrated on the far end with an eager crowd. She would have ignored it and sped to the charms class starting in five minutes. But a shrill of humiliating cry compelled her heels to turn. She pushed past the crowd to see James Potter and friends in the centre, doubling over from wheezing laughter with a young Snape crumpled on the floor with shredded pants. Her jaw clenched and went in between the bootleg comedians and the unfortunate prop. “Are you out of your mind?!” Her words came out softer than intended, but it caught their attention. The laughter came to a halt as four pairs of eyes and then some landed on her. It prickled her skin, but none more than bullies. “And who might your be?” James Potter swaggered forward, pushing up his glasses to inspect further. “Ah!” He snapped his fingers. “The new girl! A surprise you’ve got claws after all, since we all forgot you even existed by now.” She choked back a response to not give him a reaction. Instead, she turned to Snape and beside him before casting a repair spell. She didn’t look back at them and stood back up, feeling their gazes on his. Still, she held her head high and left the shock crowd with a minute left to her charms class starting.

***

“Hey new girl!” 

She was almost knocked over when someone jumped from behind and wrapped their arm around her shoulders. Her head snapped to come face to see a girl with eyes bright like a spring meadow, her face framed by fiery hair. “Thank you so much for stand up for my friend!” She grinned. “I’m Lily. Come sit with us for lunch!” It did not feel like much of an option since Lily already began pulling her to the Gryffindor table before she could even form a response. Which would have been a no. They were on the far end, away from everyone else. Probably because Slytherins did not make good company in Gryffindor, but Lily seemed to hardly care. Though that was not the problem. Getting close to Lily could mean disaster. She already made an enemy with the Marauders, but they might leave her alone after a humiliation or two. Probably already plotting, judging by the glances thrown across the table. Throughout the meal, she tried remaining distant but Lily would always pull her in whatever conversation she was having with Severus. More so that she was talking and was intently listening. After the meal, she managed to break away and find her way to the library for the free period. Her heart raced as she retreated to a far secluded corner, ruminating over this new predicament. A more rational part of her mind believed this will blow over. Lily was just being nice and Marauders will forget her by the end of the day. There was little harm in their interactions. But then again, all it takes is a flap of a butterfly’s wings to make an earth. “Hey,” She jumped, feeling a tap on her shoulder. And there he was. James Potter. Looming over with a smug smile that had her stomach drop to her knees. She glanced behind him and his friends weren’t there as expected. She stiffened her posture even more, bracing for them to jump out and hex her to oblivion. The clock ticked away, yet no one else came. She craned her head and searched James’ face for any clues what his intentions were. A twitch of a brow or a hidden smile or— “Mhm!” Her back thumped on to the nearest shelves, face held still by James as his lips sought hers. It was unlike anything she ever experienced. Not the tentative, earnest yet clumsy kisses with her former boyfriend. These kisses had purpose. But whatever it was, it crumbled her carefully built world. When they broke for air, she caught him licking his lips as he turned his head away. She followed his eyes, and it all pieced together. A small crowd, probably gathered for studying, saw the whole ordeal. But it was more than enough for the word to spread. His payback truly exceeded the conjures of her imagination.

[callme-naomi]

What's Mine is Yours - My Love, too

post-Shibuya Nanami Kento. In here, the sorcerers won, Gojo and Nanami are alive. This one's longer haha.

You had never believed in something called life after death, but on 31st October 2018, you learned what it felt like.

Hearing the love of your life was in critical condition from severe burns, and that there's a very slim chance of survival? And after hours of agonizing wait, knowing he made it?

Yes, that's what.

You had dropped your daughter off at your parents', and stayed as long as he did in the hospital, sitting on the benches praying for his life as doctors came and gave you updates.

From outside the door you had stolen glances, and you had always turned back with tears seeing his labored breathing, pain tearing through his burned face as he struggled to fight, like the fighter he is.

And when you finally got to see him, one week after being admitted?

He had come to his senses, and the moment he met your terrified gaze, he extended his unburned hand and you clutched to it like a lifeline, your tears falling onto his hand, him squeezing yours as if telling you he's okay. He made it.

You weren't sure if you had cried harder when you didn't see him, or when you at last met him again.

When he finally came home, his face marred with scars as a reminder of what he'd suffered, you called your four-year-old daughter.

"D/N, Papa's home!"

And when she ran to you, she halted, eyes widening and then slowly began to cry, inching towards you as she failed to recognize her own father.

And when he bent down, calling her by her nickname, she was convinced it's really him. And then she let him hug her, her tiny hands circling his neck.

You knew nothing would be the same again, and even though your daughter had gotten over her fright, now warming up to Papa like the way she used to before he left for Shibuya, you could see the way he slightly shrunk on himself when she approached him, how he'd try to stay hidden, and the way his laugh would sound forced, not talking anymore the way he used to.

You thought maybe it was because of the war's pain. After all, even if he is a grade one, that doesn't make him immune to pain. But when you saw him cringe at himself once in the mirror, slowly peeling his bandages and blindfold off, you realized it was more than that.

You could not gather the courage to talk to him about it, because you didn't know how to delicately approach it. And you weren't sure he wanted to talk about it yet.

It was harder for you when you often saw people stare at him, sometimes going as far to gossip. And you hit your limit of politeness when they informed you about how an 'attention-grabbing sight' your husband has become, and that maybe it's time for you to move on. 'A pretty young thing like you shouldn't be stuck with him.' 'there are many other fish in the sea.'

And that's when you made it loud and clear that you have no intention of leaving him.

You were unaware of the fact that sometimes, he overheard those conversations too. He never defended himself, because deep down, Kento knew this was all true. But he couldn't suppress that feeling of gratitude when he heard you stand up for him.

Finally, your chance to talk to him came one night.

You had changed into your nightdress, ready to go to bed with him, but he wasn't in the room, so you went to search for him. Simultaneously, you heard your little girl mumble in sleep, so you headed to her room.

There, in the darkness, you found him, staring with wide eyes at his own daughter, his hand outstretched as if considering to hold her, his back towards you.

Very quietly, you came up behind him, and put a hand on his shoulder. Going rigid under your touch, you whispered, "what's wrong, my love?"

He merely shook his head.

"Why don't you hold her?"

"I don't want to scare her in her sleep."

It might have been a joke, had you not glanced at his dead-serious expression.

Your lips parted in understanding as you silently lifted your girl and turned to him. "She won't be scared. You're her Papa, aren't you? She trusts you."

"Not anymore."

The words, having come out harsher than intended, left the two of you in uncomfortable silence. You silently put your daughter back in her bed, turning to see his face.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to-"

You put a hand on his face to silence him. "It's time you tell me what's going on in your head."

"Nothing."

"Kento, I thought we could trust each other?" you asked, cocking your head to the side, slipping your hand in his. "I don't think you know just how worried I am for you."

"I know, and thank you." His fingers, instead of recoiling, caught yours. "But you don't-"

"Don't you dare complete that sentence," you warned, dragging him to your room. "I was so close to losing you, and I'm not letting you lose yourself again."

He let you pull him beside you onto the bed, such that you could hold his arm. "Now tell me. Why are you so scared?"

"I'm not scared."

"Alright. Then, are you angry? Do you hate us?"

"Never." Before you could say anything else, he slowly said, "I hate myself."

"No, darling, don't say that..." you looked into his eye. "Why? You're perfect."

He let out a sarcastic huff. "Perfect is not the word you're looking for. It's revolting." He pointed towards his burned face. "I heard all you've had to hear in the past few weeks, about how you should leave and move on."

"Let them talk," you fiercely said. "I don't take orders from anyone."

"I appreciate it, I really do, but we have to be realistic, Y/N. You have a life ahead of you." He pointed in the direction of the kid's room. "She has a whole future yet. Who knows if I'll make it back home the next time? And if I do, will death be better than becoming what I'll come back as? I cannot stand by and see you take all the taunts aimed at me. I'll survive somehow, but I cannot let you two suffer."

He looked at you finally, meeting your worried gaze with a plea.

"If you want to leave, I won't hold it against you."

You grabbed his wrist. "I only take orders from one person, and that's you. Tell me: do you want me to stay?"

"You should-"

"Don't tell me what I should. Tell me what you want. Yes or no? Say one word, and I'll leave or stay."

"Y/N, for your-"

"Kento Nanami, there is no future, no life without you. I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me. I did not marry you for your looks alone. I knew the risks of your job, and I knew the risks of loving you, yet I will take it, if you'll say you want me to stay."

You caressed his face. "I'll ask one more time. Do you want me to stay? And think for yourself."

The conflict on his face, deciding between selfishness and selflessness, had you pose another question: "Alright. I want to stay with you because I love you. Do you love me?"

He stared at you as if saying 'is that really a question?'. "Of course I do."

"Then that's settled. You love me, and I love you. I'm staying with you. Happily."

"Y/N, you didn't have to sacrifice your happiness for me."

You looped your arm around his shoulders. "Love, you're all that I wanted this life. You stood for me when nobody else did, so it's only fair I do the same. Only death can wrench me from you."

You kissed his cheek. "We're stuck for life, Kento. And I have no intention of leaving you behind."

"I won't be leaving you either. Any time."

You finally sighed in relief, hearing him talk peacefully. "Your students, your colleagues, we know what you've been through. Your princess understands too. Don't be ashamed of your scars, because I'm not. And I am proud of you for being so strong. Don't let the others get to your head. They aren't worth sacrificing your joys for."

You smiled in your daughter's direction, tracing his line of sight. "And I'll tell her, if she ever asks, how beautiful and brave you are, because that's exactly how I see you."

You then let him lean his head on your shoulder. "If you want to let it all out on me, then do it. Let me carry the weight of your pains too. Let me have your heart."

"You already do," he answered into the crook of your neck. "What's mine is yours."

And the next day, when you and Kento leaned out the window, watching your girl play in the street, you heard her friend point to her father. "Who's that?"

She turned and waved to Kento. "My papa. My best friend."

"Why does he look like that?"

"Because he's a superhero. He is very brave."

"My papa doesn't look like that," she wrinkled her nose.

Even before you could comprehend it, your daughter sent her friend to the ground with a slap. "That's because your father isn't a hero. He didn't fight, my papa did. And don't ever talk like that again."

You smiled at Kento. You agreed with her: he really was a hero.

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 15.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: I'M SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG. Shit in my life hit a royal fan, so that took a lot of my immediate attention. So, we got into Tony's head, and now I think we should jump into the other groups now <3 Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 14

Steve could still remember the way the HYDRA base had smelled the first time he had seen Bucky since he'd gone missing in action during World War II. The burning oil from the guns, the smoke and iron from explosions and blood staining the air like wine on white, and the smell of ozone just before it began to rain. It was all as though it was yesterday despite it being almost 80 years since then.

80 years since he last saw Peggy Carter.

Well, Steve guessed he could count the times he saw her after he woke up; her old and frail body reminding him of the time he had lost since he went under the ice...her casket heavy upon Steve's shoulder when he carried her to the hearse the day of her funeral.

But it didn't take away the feelings of regret and sorrow. Steve didn't regret putting the plane beneath the ice, but he did regret never getting that raincheck for their dance. Even so, Steve knew that Peggy would have wanted him to be happy; to keep fighting for what he believed in; to keep fighting for the little guys.

And so that's what Steve did. He kept fighting, kept saving, kept advocating, and yet it never felt like it was enough. Even when he saved Bucky, Steve still felt as though something was missing. There was never enough records, old antiques that weren't actually antiques to him, never enough clothes that felt right; it all just reminded him that he was living in a time that wasn't his own.

But unlike (Y/n) (L/n), he'd been allotted a lot of time to get used to the new world. Granted, Steve still couldn't stand the hustle and bustle and the noise of the New World, but Steve imagined that it was ten times harder for her. Hell, he still couldn't stand fireworks, and Bucky downright sobbed during the holidays because of them.

Steve sighed as he thumbed at the worn lensatic compass that still held that pretty picture of Peggy in it, and he couldn't help but to look at the picture, pursing his lips.

Yes, Steve understood what it meant to be out of place and because of that, it made him determined to help those that were like him and Bucky if and when he met them.

When he came across the female Winter Soldier with Bucky, Steve had felt shocked yet relieved for having found this woman, and though Bucky had been so reluctant to save her from staying frozen until the end of time, Steve couldn't help but feel determined to defrost her and save her, Peggy's words repeating in his head like a mantra.

"The world has changed, and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best, and sometimes, the best that we can do, is to start over."

Just like him and Bucky, this woman also deserved a chance to start over; to be free of what HYDRA had done to her, and though Steve didn't want to admit it, he couldn't help but to see Bucky again when he looked at this woman.

Though, even Steve knew that what they had done to her had been ten times worse given the horrific scars that had been covering her body. Steve hadn't watched any of the recorded clips that Shuri had obtained while working on the woman's programming, but given the way Shuri, Tony, and Bucky had been acting since being shown the clips, Steve didn't even want to watch them.

Even he knew that he might lose his cool for once.

It made it even worse when Steve discovered that Jack Rollins had been her Handler. Did Brock know, too? Did he also Handle this woman under the guise that it was 'nothing personal'?

"Still feels personal," Steve muttered to himself. Steve became aware of Sam leaning against the wall beside him, his arms crossed and looking ahead as they waited for Thor to arrive at their location to begin their investigation.

"You know, I think you really just like missing person cases. Have you thought of being a detective?"

Steve couldn't help but to chuckle as he glanced at Sam, stating with a small smile.

"I thought about it, but I don't think I'd be satisfied like I am now."

Sam barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gestured to Steve's shield with a raised brow.

"Just can't seem to stay away, huh?"

"I know, it follows me everywhere, man."

The two men chuckled, and Sam stared at Steve for a moment, noticing the downtrodden look crawl back upon the old Captain's face, and he pointed out to Steve.

"You seem like you're back in the trenches."

Steve chuckled before shaking his head slightly, teasing gently.

"I never was actually in the trenches, so that might be a question for Bucky rather than me."

Sam shook his head a bit as well, making a face at Steve before stating.

"Well, I'm not about to go make a quick trip to ask. Seriously, man, what's on your mind?"

Steve pursed his lips tightly before he admitted to Sam, giving the man a worried look.

"I'm just...worried about the woman is all. With Bucky's rehabilitation, it hadn't been easy for him...and it still isn't, if I'm honest. I'm worried that he might have been right...if it would have been better for us to leave her frozen so she wouldn't be in danger like she is."

Sam glanced over at Steve, regarding him with a thoughtful look before he crossed his arms and replied thoughtfully.

"I think you're overthinking it, Steve. Even if you'd have left her there, she would have been in the same amount of danger as she is now."

Steve looked over at Sam, giving the man his undivided attention as Sam continued to speak his mind.

"Just like with Bucky, you strived to advocate for her; to give her a life and the ability to choose who she wants to be. If you ask me, that's a pretty big deal...especially considering who and what she is. You surrounded her with people that actually want to help her and not use her. I think that you and I both know that this is going to be a difficult road, but I also know it'll be worth it to see her blossom into herself and not what HYDRA wanted her to be. Just like with Bucky."

Sam clasped Steve's shoulder, giving him a firm look.

"You did the right thing, Steve...and if that doesn't make you think so...then I think at least Peggy would have been proud."

Steve couldn't help but to furrow his brows at the mention of Peggy, glancing down at the compass again, and he shook his head.

"No wonder you're a speaker at the VA. You're pretty good at this."

"You have to be. Sometimes you're the only thing a brother or a sister has left."

The two men couldn't help but to jolt as the Bifrost Bridge suddenly came crashing down beside them with a bang of thunder, Thor Odinson shaking his shoulders a little bit as a spark of lightning crawled over his chest as he appeared.

"I did not anticipate how difficult a phone could be. What's even the point of it when you could just tell me what I need to know in person. Even a raven would suffice. Less problems."

Sam couldn't help but to ask as he brushed off the invisible dust from his uniform as Steve gave Thor an understanding look.

"I don't reckon you get great service from Asgard, huh?"

"Terrible, actually, I couldn't even hear a word Tony Stark was saying...which isn't really tragic."

Steve nodded a bit before he asked Thor, the God of Thunder giving him a curious look.

"I don't suppose you were able to hear what was going on all the while?"

Thor then made a face as if trying to remember the interaction with Tony, saying.

"Well, I think I hung up when Tony said to meet you here, so not really."

Steve almost lost his composure, closing his eyes and shaking his head while Sam just snorted, crossing his arms.

"Right. We're going after a HYDRA operative by the name of Jack Rollins. We don't really know where he is, but the site that we're going to is a possible location. Even if he's not there, we're going to eradicate any possible activity. It's about time that HYDRA is stopped once and for all. Tony was able to capture an image of the base, so we should get moving."

The three of them began to journey to the HYDRA base, Thor asking as they walked and kept an eye out for danger.

"So, what is the significance of this human? Other than the fact that he is apart of this...horrible organization, it seems there is more to this than I am being informed of."

Steve gave Thor a look, almost like a brother chastising the other.

"Well, if you hadn't hung up on Tony, he would have been able to tell you."

Thor just waved off Steve, shrugging his shoulders a little bit as they began to approach the HYDRA base.

"His theatrics annoy me."

Steve wisely elected not to comment, instead giving Thor the rundown of the last couple of weeks.

"Bucky and I rescued a woman that was a part of the Winter Soldier program...probably created right after Bucky was. We've been trying to rehabilitate her and free her from HYDRA's mind control, but we've been having issues. Jack Rollins was her Handler, and he's been controlling her remotely...probably for a while."

Thor then hummed, saying with a raised brow as he swung Mjolnir around.

"It sounds as though this is personal."

"Potentially. What matters the most is that we eradicate HYDRA. If not for her or Bucky, then for the world. This is a dangerous group of people that are willing to do whatever it takes to gain complete control."

Thor sighed heavily, looking down at the hammer in his hands, scrunching his nose a little bit as he spoke while pointing Mjolnir at Steve.

"Well, even so, I understand the need to protect the honor of a maiden, so I shall accompany you to this HYDRA base and we shall cut off every head of the beast until the earth is pouring with its blood."

Sam and Steve stared at Thor for a moment before Sam asked him with a squint.

"Did you just come up with that on the spot or are you always this poetic?"

Thor shrugged, giving Sam a thoughtful expression as he replied.

"It comes and goes. My mother used to recite the Vǫluspá to Loki and I when we were younger."

 Sam just gave Steve a look, and the old Avenger just shrugged his shoulders before asking the two men.

"Are you guys ready? We're closing in."

Thor then asked as Steve and Sam began to carefully maneuver through the trees to stay out of sight while the God continued to walk as if there was no threat imminent.

"Do you think that I could meet this woman? I think it'll be fascinating. Are female Winter Soldier's different than males? Can she kick Barnes' ass like a Valkyrie?"

Steve pursed his lips, glancing back at Thor with a raised brow.

"Do you want to find out?"

"Well, I think a round or two would be healthy. You know, gauge her skills...see where she can improve."

Sam gave Steve a questioning look.

"Didn't she put a knife through the quinjet windshield? You know, the one made with synthesized AM-III carbon?"

"I don't know what that is."

Thor pointed out with a confused look on his face, and Steve just replied.

"It's strong as hell."

Thor just nodded before he gestured to the large building that they had approached.

"This is the supposed base?"

"Yes. We want to try to be as inconspicuous as possible just in case there is activity."

When Thor didn't respond, Steve and Sam both looked back with a confused look before the sound of thunder and lightning crashing down on the building made the two Avengers fill with dread.

"Is there anybody in the Avengers initiative that actually listens to you?"

Steve just sighed and replied.

"Let's just follow him."

The mission began then, the two men desperately chasing after the God as Thor flew through the building. What perturbed Steve, however, was the fact that there seemed to be no fighting. No yells, no gunshots, no explosions.

Silence.

The place was empty, barren of any furniture and equipment nor documents. It was as though it had been completely cleaned out. Thor came back with a frown, stating as he looked around with confusion.

"The rest of the area is completely barren. Nobody has been here for a while."

"Did you check the lower levels?"

Thor glanced back at the hole he had created on the floor, scratching the back of his head.

"I think so."

Sam shook his head, adjusting his goggles so that they were sitting on top of his head.

"That just doesn't make any sense. It's almost as if they know where we're looking and are cleaning everything out right under our noses."

Steve pursed his lips and looked at Thor.

"You're positive that there was nothing in the building?"

Thor frowned, crossing his arms.

"Why would I be dishonest to you?"

Sam pursed his lips again before he asked.

"What if they have someone on the inside already?"

Thor and Steve looked at Sam with similar expressions of dread. Sam shrugged and continued.

"We know that HYDRA is scary-good at infiltrations and establishing themselves in even the most secure places in the world. In a kingdom of thousands, a rat is bound to get through somehow, especially when the King is already preoccupied with trying to find a specific person. It's just like Nat said: it's easier to get things done when the attention isn't on you."

Thor pointed towards Steve, stating.

"We should get to Wakanda as soon as possible. If he is right, then that means the maiden and your friend are in danger of this foul beast. I can get us there almost immediately using the Bifrost Bridge so they are not devoured by the HYDRA."

Both Steve and Sam give Thor a questioning look.

"You...know it's not a real beast, right?"

Thor made a face at them both.

"Of course I knew that...I just thought it'd be poetic."

Thor looked away, but Sam could still see the embarrassed look on the god's face before he looked to Steve, who was shaking his head to get back on track.

"Listen, we can't just leave the quinjet behind. Stark will have my ass about it."

Steve protested, and Sam clasped his shoulder with a frown.

"You two go on ahead, I'll fly that bird home. Bucky and (Y/n) are in danger, Steve. The quicker you get there, the better off they'll be."

Steve nodded and Thor grabbed the captain's shoulder, nodding to Sam.

"Good luck."

With a strange sound of surging energy, the Bifrost suddenly crashed down upon Thor and Steve, leaving Sam where he was standing as he watched the bridge disappear, and Sam couldn't help but mutter to himself.

"One of these days....just you wait."

-

STORY NOTES: Steve recalls the HYDRA base that he had found Bucky in after Bucky went missing back in WWII. He recalls the smell of smoke, burnt gun oil, and other scents during that time, and Steve makes a note that he could still remember that day clearly. He begins to think about Peggy Carter and his regrets and sorrows of not getting to spend his life with her like he wanted to, and so to honor her, he continues to fight for those around him.

He begins to sympathize with (Y/n) (L/n) and how it must be jarring for her to be thrust into an era she is not from, and the struggles that came with adjusting to a new world. He recalls that when he had found her, Bucky had been reluctant to save her, but Steve was determined because of the memory of a quote that Peggy had said to him before she passed away.

After some more personal reflections, Steve is greeted by Sam Wilson, who jokes with Steve to lighten the mood. When he is unsuccessful, Sam asks Steve what is on his mind. Steve opens up to Sam about his worries and how he is wondering if Steve had done the right thing in defrosting the woman, and Sam is adamant that Steve had done the right thing. He tells Steve that he thinks Peggy would have been proud, and Steve begins to feel better.

The moment is interrupted with the arrival of Thor Odinson, who makes a complaint about the difficulty of cellular devices and how it would have been much easier for someone to send a raven to him. Sam makes a joke about the reception in Asgard, to which Thor quips that he couldn't hear what Tony was saying and it 'wasn't really tragic'. Steve asks Thor if he was able to hear the mission details, and Thor reveals that he actually hung up on Tony, not that he had bad reception.

Steve begins to go into details about their mission and what the plan is, and Thor makes a comment that the mission seemed personal. Steve is vague with his response, but neither Thor nor Sam comment about it. When Thor mentions cutting off 'every head of the beast', Sam makes a joke, in which Thor replies that his mother used to read the Vǫluspá to him and Loki when they were younger.

As they approach the base, Thor makes a inquiry about female Winter Soldier's and if they were as strong and skilled as Valkyries, in which Sam and Steve both imply that (Y/n) is most likely on par with one since she was able to embed a knife into the strongest glass in the world. After a while, the three arrive to the base, and though Steve tries to plan out a strategic entrance, Thor immediately begins to assault the base.

Steve makes a note that the place seems deadly silent and completely barren, no furniture or desks in sight. Thor comes back with a similar report, telling Steve that the base is completely abandoned, and Sam makes a comment that it seems as though HYDRA already seems to know where the Avengers will be looking. He inquires about a possible infiltration in Wakanda, and Thor tells Steve that they should get to Wakanda as soon as possible. Thor and Steve leaving using the Bifrost Bridge while Sam stays behind to take the quinjet home. End scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

Vǫluspá: "The Prophecy of the Völva [Seeress]". It is one of the most famous and important poems in the Poetic Edda, which is a collection of Old Norse mythos and poems. The Vǫluspá goes into detail about Norse Mythology, including the creation of the world, its current state, and its ultimate destruction during Ragnarök—the apocalyptic battle of the gods—and subsequent rebirth.

Valkyrie: [Valkyrja] "Chooser of the Slain": A warrior faction of Norse Mythology often depicted as powerful Asgardian women who serve Odin. Their main role is to choose which Asgardian warrior will live or die in battle. They also guide the fallen warrior to Valhalla, Odin's great hall in Asgard where the warriors [known as Einherjar] prepare for Ragnarök

TAGLIST: @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 3: (bloody) fingerprints

Warriors and Time as a duo :D

Also, my fics haven’t been showing up for some people (which makes me think I might be shadowbanned -_-) so reblogs are especially appreciated while I try to figure out what’s up. Thanks <3

Warnings: injury, blood, traitor-related angst

Ao3 link

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

“—tain!”

Link swam back to awareness at the hazy shout, head pounding and side on fire.

He took in a breath as he awoke, but quickly froze, pain running through him at even that small movement. His breath stuttered and something moved near his head, and his confused mind tried to sort together what exactly was going on.

Someone tilted his head to the side, fingers pressed to his pulse point right next to an old scar. The movement sent a wave of pain up his side and Link sucked in another breath, his very thin hold on lucidity wavering.

A moan escaped him, and Link felt someone pat his shoulder.

“Hey, stay with me captain, you’ll be alright,” a familiar voice said, voice taut with worry, and Link tried to place who it was. His mind went through dozens of scattered faces before settling on one, and he tried to get the features to focus in his mind.

“S... Sprite..?” he slurred, and heard a small laugh that was full of held-back panic.

“Not exactly.”

Link let out another groan, and tried to fight through the haze he was stuck in. He knew deep down that it couldn’t be Mask of all people standing over him because... why?

There was a reason, he knew there was, he just... couldn’t seem to figure it out. Mask wasn’t here anymore. And the reason Mask couldn’t be here, was because... because he...

...he’d gone home.

That... that was right, right, he remembered now. Mask was gone, home to his own time, whenever it was, and Link hadn’t seen him since the war. And the war had been over for a couple years now, and he... he was traveling with different heroes now on a different time-related journey.

And obviously in a fair amount of trouble.

Warriors managed to drag his eyes open and look through blurry vision at whoever was standing over him, catching a glimpse of faint light glinting off of armor.

“Time—” he wheezed, and the man shushed him as he pressed something to his side.

“Don’t speak. Save your strength.”

Warriors coughed, but it turned into a pained gasp as agony shot up his side. His entire body hurt, but his side was the worst, and he could feel something hot and sticky beginning to soak his skin and tunic.

Time gently shushed him again, and brushed a hand across his forehead.

“It’s okay, Captain. Someone will be here any moment, the castle must have seen that,” he murmured reassuringly, and Warriors managed to focus through the pain enough to be confused at his words.

“Wh’ happened?” he managed to get out, “h—”

He broke off into a pained moan, and saw Time’s face grow even more creased.

“You don’t remember?” he said worriedly, and Warriors bit back a cry when his grip shifted.

He didn’t manage to reply, and Time let out a tense sigh.

“We were ambushed,” Time said quietly, and Warriors stared at him. “We’re in your time, I asked if you wanted to take a walk since neither of us were sleeping. We went outside of castle town, but we were followed... they had a magic user with them, and you shoved me away right as they put a barrier around you, I couldn’t do anything until it was too late,” he finished guiltily.

Warriors blinked up at the man staring at him anxiously, and struggled to recall the events he’d just described.

He remembered not wanting to go to bed just yet, enjoying being home again after so long. Time was still up and wanted to get some air, and he’d mentioned they should go for a walk... it got fuzzy after that, but there were flashes. Time acting oddly nervous as he’d tried to tell him something... footsteps following them down the path, ears pricking... the glow of magic and some sort of explosion...

Another wave of pain tore through his side and he choked on a breath, feeling Time grab at his hand.

“You shouldn’t have pushed me out of the way” Time murmured, and Warriors felt a small smile twist his lips.

“Wasn’t t-time... t’warn you...” he whispered, just barely managing to squeeze Time’s hand in his. “I’m... th’ target... H-had to, protect...”

Warriors coughed, and nearly passed out again at the way his side ached.

“S’ my... fault,” he continued in a croak. “Traitors... Couldn’t l-let you... suffer fr’ me.”

Time let out a heavy sigh, the sound thick with an emotion Warriors wasn’t lucid enough to identify.

“You didn’t listen to me back then,” Time murmured, sounding exasperated. Warriors squinted in confusion, and Time let out a another very tired sigh. “There’s something you should know, Captain,” he said softly, and Warriors looked at him, head pounding in time with the pain in his side. “It’s why... I wanted to get out of the castle. I needed to speak to you.”

“Yeah?” Warriors murmured, and Time swallowed.

“During the war, you weren’t the only hero. There were others who were brought there, displaced by time,” he began, and Warriors made a noise of affirmation, unsure of where he was going with this. “Well, I... I was one of them. I fought at your side, Captain. Nearly the entire war.”

Warriors felt his world freeze.

He breathed in a sharp breath as he stared up at Time, meeting the single striking blue eye that was suddenly so familiar. The face he knew so well clicked into his mind again, and Warriors briefly forgot the pain he was so shocked.

That’s impossible.

“Mask?” he breathed, and Time’s face grew just a bit of a smile as he nodded.

Warriors’ eyes widened, and he continued to stare at Time, unable to stop himself from studying his face and trying to pick out the familiar features of Mask. His vision was blurring too much to do a good job of it, but now that he knew, he couldn’t believe he’d never noticed.

“B-been a long time for y-you, huh?” he whispered, ignoring how badly it hurt to speak.

Time smiled. “Much longer for me than for you.”

Warriors chuckled, then his breath caught as a sharp wave of pain rolled through him. Time’s smile quickly faded as Warriors failed to hold back a stuttering cough, and he gave the captain’s hand a bracing squeeze.

Time then closed his eye, and looked like he was desperately trying to control himself. Warriors swallowed back another thick cough, knowing it would hurt, and kept his breathing as steady as he could.

The fiery feeling continued to spread though, heedless of his wishes, and the darkness began to encroach on his vision despite how he tried to resist it.

“Captain, hey, stay with me,” Time said sternly, and Warriors blinked up at him, a smile twitching at his lips. Talking hurt, but he needed to speak, he needed to let Mask know...

“Honor ‘t fight w’ you... again,” Warriors breathed, something wet dripping from his lip. “Missed you Sprite...”

“I missed you too, but you need to stay awake now Captain,” Time said in a more frantic voice, one Warriors had only heard from him once or twice before. Something bad must be happening. “That’s an order Link, open your eyes.”

Warriors didn’t remember closing them, but he did as he said, the commanding voice mixed with old habit making them both crack open.

...for all of a few moments, until they slipped closed again.

“Link. Do not sleep, just hold on, I can see people coming, please Link—”

Warriors somehow managed to raise his hand enough to touch Time’s cheek, blood on his fingertips mixing with a strange wetness on Time’s face.

“L-Love you, kiddo,” Warriors whispered, Time staring at him with both eyes wide, tears shining in them both.

“Me too,” Time croaked, voice wetter than Warriors had ever heard from this version. Warriors shakily smiled, and ran a red-soaked thumb across his brother’s cheek, pride at the man his little sprite had grown up into warming him even as his body grew steadily more cold. “I love you, big brother. Stay with me, please.”

Warriors’ hand slipped from his cheek without his permission, and he barely heard the frantic shouts and approaching footsteps, the pop of a cork...

The only thing he saw was Mask, tears and bloody fingerprints on his face, looking every bit the child Warriors had known back then.

He gave him one last smile, then fell back into oblivion.

[adoreeenina]

I wanna be yours - Prologue.

Relationships: Recom! Miles Quaritch x Sully! Reader x Recom! Lyle Wainfleet

WC: 1.5k

Series Summary: ~~~ 𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝕋𝕨𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕁𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪.

Peace. That’s what I felt. At this moment. Flying through the sky on my ikran, Rawm. During the eclipse are my favorite time to go, it’s peaceful, beautiful, I could never get tired of the sight. Being away from all the responsibilities, my father, my mother, Tarsem. I sometimes think about my most precious childhood memories.

Childhood memories are sometimes covered and obscured beneath the things that come later, like childhood toys forgotten at the bottom of crammed adult closet, but they are never lost for good.

I remember as a child, my father would tell us stories of the Great War, the Great Toruk, how he and my mother have met. My father says it was “love at first sight” but my mother says different. I always admired their love story, I always thought it was romantic. The outsider and the chiefs daughter falling in a forbidden romance.

We used to play tag, fighting over toys, especially Lo’ak and Kiri, exploring the forest, fighting on who gets to hug dad or mom first when they come back from hunting. That life was full of laughter and so carefree. I was such a daddy’s girl, I looked up to my father like he was my hero, he taught me how shoot my first bow and arrow, how to hunt. I still remember how my first hunt went.

“That’s the one. Over there by the big rocks. There he is” father whispers lowly as he stands behind me. Helping me adjust my arm that held the bow and arrow.

I take a deep breathe in and breathe out steadily as I watch the fish swim before releasing the arrow. Remarkably hitting the fish with one shot.

“You got it! Yeah!” My father celebrated proudly as he claps his hands with giant smile on his face.

I love making my father proud, it made me feel complete.

I’m the oldest of 5 children. I’m first… then Neteyam… Kiri… Lo’ak… and lastly my baby sister Tuk, but she’s no baby no more, and there’s Spider. From what I’ve been told he’s an orphan, his parents were killed by the war. He was too young for cryo, so he was just stuck here. He’s been raised by the human’s at the lab.

I was a bit skeptical when I first met Spider, he was so tiny compared to us, weak. I started warming up to Spider when he would come around often. Lo’ak and Spider are attached to the hip. Being the oldest, I started seeing Spider as a little brother, my family.

As I was getting older, it was no secret that my mother despised Spider. She wasn’t being subtle about it. I heard my father calling Spider a stray cat once. I didn’t know what it meant until I asked Norm.

“It’s when a cat is abandoned and basically finds shelter elsewhere that isn’t it’s home. Most people don’t like stray cats”

It took me a while to understand it and when I did, I felt disgusted with both of my parents behavior towards Spider.

When I got older I asked my grandmother why does my mother hate Spider. That’s how I found out who is Spider’s father.

“You’re going to hate me too?”

“No”

“Why not?”

“Cause you’re my brother”

Spider thought I would hate him cause of who his father was, but I don’t see Spider as his father. Spider isn’t his father. Spider is a child Eywa.

Since then, I’ve been spending more time with Spider, my mother hated it, my father was worried. I’m protective of Spider, I promised myself I would lay my life for him, and I have the scars to prove it.

“Ow, stop pressing too hard” I yelp as my grandmother worked on my wounds on my shoulder and my upper chest with mixed herbs.

“Skxáwng” my grandmother cursed at me.

I was attacked by a Palulukan. I tagged along with Lo’ak and Spider on one of their adventures, to keep them out of trouble. We didn’t realize we came upon their territory. It wasn’t until one jumped at Spider, Lo’ak tried to defend him by shooting an arrow, but the Palulukan armor is too thick to make any real damage. I managed to push them out of the way, by doing that, it managed to claw at my shoulder and upper chest. Both of the boys were worried, I told them to run while I distracted it. Thankfully they did, and I managed to get away but not without a few wounds.

When I got home, both of my parents were worried, mostly my mother, my father was pissed. My mother blamed Spider and my father blames Lo’ak.

Once my grandmother was finished, she left and my mother came in, and that’s when the argument started. She accused Spider. I defended him.

“You could have been killed” my mother snaps.

“I had to protect my brothers”

“Spider is not your brother” my mother seethe. My head snap to glare at her.

“Kiri isn’t my sister by blood. But you took her in as your own. Why is Spider any different.” My mother hissed under her breath at the accusation.

“He is not one of us, he does not belong here. This is not his home.” My jaw clench, ears tipping back, outraged.

“Yes it is. He was born here. This is much as his home as it is ours. He is a child of Eywa.”

“Ma’daughter-“

“No! I’m tired of seeing how poorly you’ve treated Spider. How cold you are towards him. You always treated him with such distaste and unworthy just because of who his father is.”

“He is a demon”

“So is dad!” My mother froze.

“Or did you forget? We! Your children, has demon blood. Kiri’s mother is a demon.” My mother turned away not being able to look at me.

“Look at me!” I snarl. This is the first that I ever talked to my mother this way. I should feel guilty but I don’t, I’m finally letting out all of my lent up rage into her. I turned to leave, stopping short to glance at her over my shoulder.

“You disappoint me, mother” with that, I left.

My parents raised me to have strong beliefs, and stand up to what I believe in. I’m guessing they’re regretting it now.

Since that arguement with my mother, I started pulling away from them. My father tried talking to me but it felt forced. My relationship between my parents had gotten worse.

Since passing my Iknimaya and Uniltaron, my grandmother been teaching me the way of Eywa, to be the next Tsahik. I honestly thought it should’ve been Kiri, I knew she had a gift that I could never compare to, and there’s Tarsem, my father has chosen him to be my mate, to be the next Olo’eyktan. I hated being promised to someone I did not love. I found it unfair how I’m promised to someone when my mother and father mated for love.

I would avoid my training to spend my time with Spider, to get away from all the responsibilities that were forced upon me.

I trust Spider, he’s my brother, we confide our secrets, our feelings with each other. I told him how I felt insecure about my eyes, hands and figure.

Since growing up, I knew I was different but the way I look compared to the other female Na’vi. They are small, extenuating their lithe form, the agile body of Huntresses. I’m more on the curvier side, atleast that’s what the scientist from the lab tells me. I have wider hips and bigger breast than the woman from the clan. I felt insecure, a freak when I’m with the clan, but with Spider, I felt normal.

I was at my happiest when I am with Spider, including my other siblings, but they don’t understand me, not like how Spider understands me. But the thing about happiness? It can vanish in a heartbeat.

Everything was perfect, until they came, the sky people. They burned down our village. Many of our people died that day. my mother was hysterical, seeing everything in flames. I felt my heartbreak seeing nothing but fire, what broke my heart was seeing many of our people in tears, I could hear many of the animals cry in pain and fear.

When I made eye contact with my father, that’s when I knew. We were at war once again.

My father got harder on us, me, Neteyam, and Lo’ak. Specifically me, he yells at me about the oldest, I need to protect my younger siblings. He treated us like soldiers, he forgets that we’re his children.

I sometimes just want to go back to my childhood days and love a stress free life… some days I wish I could go back to my childhood. Not to change anything but to live it all over again.

The only thing that’s been keeping me sane is Spider. Despite what anyone says Spider is my brother, I love him like a brother and if shits gets down, I’ll go to war like he’s my brother.

Masterpost | Next

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Living Weapon Whumpee *BONUS* Scene part 26

Warnings: aftermath of being a weapon/semi-retired weapon, lost family, rejection

"That's not my father," he growled with such venom it made Whumpee want to wither away and die.

Miranda's brow furrowed in confusion, but Atlas plowed onward.

"That thing cannot possibly be my father," he hissed, "I've seen and heard what it can do. How many people it's killed. All the experiments it went through to make it into this brute. And last I recall, it was Leader's war dog. What's it doing here, if you have truly escaped Leader? Is this a trap, or a baited ambush?" He raised an eyebrow meaningfully at Miranda, awaiting an answer.

Miranda dipped her head sadly. "Leader brainwashed and tortured Whumpee into obedience. It took awhile for him to break free of the cycle of conditioned violence, but once he did he switched sides and helped put an end to the war with Leader. Leader is no longer an active threat thanks to Whumpee, though a few of his supporters still roam free.”

Atlas barely acknowledged her, his attention fixated solely on Whumpee, gaze roaming over the bare skin where his clothes didn't reach.

"Is that how you got all the scars?" He growled.

Whumpee winced at the vicious memories that accompanied the topic, but nodded stiffly.

Atlas studied him with an unreadable look on his face, eyes scanning him up and down.

“I guess I can see a slight resemblance,” he grumbled bitterly. “Is that why Miranda had to give me up? Because I was your offspring, and you were a weapon? Did Leader plan on turning me into one too?”

Another nod from Whumpee.

“Leader still managed to put you through a few smaller experiments before I got you out,” Miranda spoke up. “I can see how it's affected you. The evidence is there. Have you learned how to control it yet?”

Atlas shrugged with a tense smile.

“Control myself? Yeah. Through a lot of trial and error. Why? Are you scared of me or something?” his grin turned sharp – challenging – testing the waters.

“No,” Miranda said confidently, “I'm not. I was asking because Whumpee could teach you how to refine your strength and wield it if you desired.”

Whumpee nodded enthusiastically, but Atlas's face wrinkled. “You can't just barge into my life like this and control every aspect of it,” he snapped, abruptly going defensive. “I understand that there is lost time between us, but I already have a life here. With Henry and his wife. I'm… reluctantly willing to let you be a part of it, against my better judgment, but you do not get to boss me around like your own kid. You didn't raise me. Henry and his wife did. And I'm the kind of person who can stand up for himself just fine without intervention. I already have a partner-to-be and everything.”

Miranda and Whumpee both blinked in surprise. But it was Miranda who blurted, “you have a girlfriend?”

Atlas narrowed his eyes at her. “I do. A lot can happen in fifteen years. And no, you cannot meet her.” His gaze flicked to Whumpee, almost apologetically. “She is the best thing that's happened to me, and I don't want her to be… scared off by a certain someone.”

Whumpee knew what he meant, but it still stung. Even if he was peaceful now and his days of war and bloodshed were over, the evidence of it was still there – written all across his body, permanent scars a gruesome work of art, a testimony to all he'd endured and survived. He still looked terrifying, and that was all that often mattered to people, and made them steer clear of him.

But he nodded slowly, understanding. “I know,” he rasped, voice nearly cracking. He would never be normal, no matter how hard he tried to be. Missing out on joyful parts of his son's life like this was just one more sacrifice he was forced to make. Would there one day be a wedding? He probably wouldn't even get to attend, lest he scared everyone away including the bride.

But Whumpee knew. And understood. And accepted.

And a small part of him appreciated Atlas setting a clear boundary from the start, so he wouldn’t get false hope.

And rules. Whumpee could follow rules, right? It’s what he'd been doing practically his whole life. Atlas could draw a dozen lines not to be crossed, and he would never even come close to stepping over any of them.

“Soooo… fun family reunion? Yay?” Max awkwardly piped up to break up the tense silence in the room. He nudged Flint with his shoulder, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Do we have a dinner party or something? What's the tradition with these things?”

Flint rolled his eyes with a smirk and gave him a light shove. “Alas, no dinner party.”

“Bummer,” Max chuckled. But it was enough to dissolve the mounting tension, and Atlas even cracked a small smile.

“Well, I think this will take a lot of getting used to, but… I think I’d like to get to know my birth parents,” Atlas said with a sigh. He raised an invisible glass of wine. “Here’s to the strangest family reunion I've ever heard of?”

Flint laughed good-naturedly and did the same, followed by Whumpee and the others, all lifting invisible drinks in the air.

“Here’s to our weird family and a lot of awkward conversations yet to be had,” Whumpee chimed in.

Atlas was right. It would take a lot of change and getting used to, but… maybe the future wouldn't be as bleak as Whumpee had expected after all. And Whumpee looked forward to healing one shattered piece of himself at a time… with both the family he'd once lost and the loyal friends he’d made along his journey.

Whumpee broke out into a cheerful smile of his own making for once as he lifted his nonexistent wine glass above all the others, whispering to himself in his mind.

For Myra. For Flint, Max, Miranda, my son, and all the others. I’ll do them all proud and take back what joy leader stole from me. One day at a time.

This series is finally finished! Yaaaaay! This was the last chapter I had planned! I made it such a bittersweet ending for Whumpee. It took forever to finish this story, but I'm glad its finally completed.

⏪️ Back

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @i-dont-know-sal

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@theforeverdyingperson @dragongodryss

[incomingalbatross]

Thoughts on Ghost Days by Jim Butcher (and possibly the earlier books, if they spill over into this post)

All of this is, as Harry observes, absolutely typical of his existence. Of course he can't just die, he gets sent back as a special unknown type of ghost to solve his own murder. And of course he shoulders like three different new obligations, makes a new friend, and adopts a criminal teenager within his first 24 hours of unlife.

Kinda love how quickly and understatedly he's incorporated the very latest familial revelation into his narration. He says something like "I'd lost the scar on my arm that I got while skinning a fish on my grandfather's farm" and it's so casual it almost slips by.

(Side note: I need to see his grandfather and his brother find out about each other now. I realize there has been no opportunity and these aren't exactly Harry's secrets to tell anyway, but please.)

Mort going "all cats can see ghosts, they just don't usually care" checked out completely, of course, but it was also perfect setup for Mister's "HELLO YOU'RE BACK MY HUMAN HI." Which. Oof.

Ways you can tell it's really Harry Dresden: 1) Mister hits him in the invisible shins, 2) he opens the conversation with a Star Wars quote, 3) he's talking a teenager into turning his life around.

Love all the Bob content in this one. Harry got to see how the other half lived and everything. (Though his amorality credentials are slightly tarnished by that heroic last stand of his. Which he'd better have survived.)

Everyone here seems like they're an inch from cracking, and I'm concerned for all of them, but they're DOING THEIR BEST. (Butters isn't an inch from cracking. He seems to be doing great, I'm very proud of him.)

Very glad and also a little amused that the Super Secret Safe Witness Protection Home for Maggie is... the Carpenters. I mean it absolutely should be, but it's also funny.

Of course Mouse exists equally in the physical and spirit world. I'd be more surprised if he didn't.

I DID have several moments where I went what about Thomas. why isn't your narration even mentioning Thomas, but the payoff of "I couldn't stand to face even the thought of what I'd done to him" made it make sense.

More general/Thematic thoughts:

Uriel and/or the narrative really said "You're going to take a good, hard look at the unintended consequences of your actions. And you're going to do it disembodied so you can process a little better."

There was something that really struck me at some points in the Lasciel period, and it's back again now: I love that when Harry crosses lines, not only is he capable of seeing it, but the reaction of the people around him is, "yeah you sure did cross a line! you did wrong. so stop doing it and get better, because you can. this isn't a slippery slope unless you decide it is."

He has! Free will! Contrition is always meaningful! Change is always possible! Harry is never allowed to write himself off. He is always told that he's capable of picking himself up and doing better - because he is. He's alive and human and that means he has as much hope as he chooses to hold onto.

That said, I also really appreciated the weight his choices in the last book are given here. It's so easy to just go along with "it was for Maggie, it was his JOB" (and it was his job), but this book made Harry and us stop and linger on both the lines he crossed and the unintended harm he caused.

(Though he is taking too much weight on himself. Martin maneuvered a lot of this into play, not to mention the ACTUAL Red Court. And there is something to be said for the SG-1 approach of "stop worrying about ramifications and just kill the ancient evil first.")

(Oh, now I remember! I was also thinking of Hunger Games re: this. Katniss and Peeta's defiance of evil was personally motivated and sparked a lot of unintended harm to others - but it was also the only spark that could have destroyed the machinery of evil. Not quite the same but made me think of it.)

ANYWAY. Speaking of crossed lines and harm caused: I was NOT prepared for the murder reveal.

It DOES explain so much about this whole book, especially in combination with the (not as shocking :P) reveal that he's only mostly dead. He NEEDED to know this. He needed to know and understand all the choices he made, and their results - and the lie that influenced him - if he was going to be allowed back to his body.

First, he needed to know there was no outside killer to worry about. He also needed to know that HE did this. All of it. Part of accepting culpability and facing his choices meant facing that there was a third murder on his account - because that is how he frames it - what he did to Molly and what he did to himself and everyone who loved him.

He also, most crucially, needed his free will reasserted, both by the manipulation being revealed to him and by Uriel balancing the scales.

Because a Harry Dresden who had given up on himself as the Winter Knight is a nightmare the world's not ready for.

Instead he's ready to give Mab new problems. :) She gets what she paid for.

Closing thought: If, when he finally gets back to the world of the living, he does not make at least one "mostly dead" and/or "really most sincerely dead" joke, I will be very disappointed in him.

[rurikkirur]

Drarry/HP headcanons - Pt2

Today I'm going to talk about a headcannon of mine that is a bit different from the most common representations I see in the fandom, and I'll try to explain why I think it would make sense! I got some questions about this in the comments of my fic (DMATAC), so I'll leave my full view on this matter here!

Headcanon #2 - Draco and Harry's relationship with food/cooking It is common to see two scenarios in the fandom: Harry loving to cook and Draco being clueless in the kitchen, or Harry developing an eating disorder (I haven't read fics like this, but I know they're out there). And for me it would be neither of those options... I do believe that Harry would not have a very healty relationship with food/cooking after what he went through at the Dursleys, so Harry loving to cook never really made 100% sense to me. It's not something that bothers me, but I just thought it could have developed the other way around. But I wouldn't go as far as developing an eating disorder mostly because of Molly Weasley, and the role she played in Harry's life. Harry was underfed, and sometimes forced to cook in order to eat, so that's something that leaves emotional scars. But the Weasleys and Hogwarts changed this for Harry to some degree, and I think it could have made Harry actually like to be given food, instead of preparing it himself. He would see it as an act of love and care for him, that would fulfill a need of his 'inner child'. So I believe Harry would dislike cooking, but he would love to eat, and be given food. I like to believe that in his daily life he would mostly eat take-out food from restaurants, and in general he would melt down for anyone that cooked for him. As for Draco, he grew up in the oposite situation and not once in his life he needed to cook, and always had food served to him, as a regular pureblood/rich child. So he would naturally develop into some spoiled 'picky eater', that would always complain about food that was given to him. But I believe this would change after the war. Draco would be broken and emotionally scared after all he went through, so discovering himself capable of small achievements in 'lesser' and 'simpler' activies, such as cooking a dish that he liked, and managing to get the taste that he wanted, and that pleased his picky palate, would give him a sense of satisfaction that could develop into a love for cooking something 'perfect', for his own standards. I like to stand by the idea that Draco is good at potions, and cooking is somehow similar, so Draco could develop great cooking skills. After having his beliefs challenged during the war, Draco might try to cook even as an act of 'rebellion' that would go against who he used to be. Now, you can see how this can work out perfectly for Drarry in a post-war scenario, right? 🤭😏😌 That's my version of their relationship with food/cooking, and the reason why I wrote them like that! 😝

[venomwrites]

I went back and forth on posting this but does work as a stand-alone for a hypothetical missing fight and I have posted all the other ones here. These are all an attempt to get us to the beats of cannon in the same timeframe, but not have it feel rushed.

They can all be found on Ao3: The Cycle

Vi, rightfully, is furious. 

She wakes spitting venom and lashing out. Caitlyn has tried very, very hard not to think about the moment Vi is fully cognizant. She is certain Vi is going to yell at her, probably about Jinx. She’s just not sure which part of it she’s going to yell about. But Vi zeros in and spits about the arrest. And even though Caitlyn has sworn she is not going to rise to the bait, the arrest is the one thing she did not do. Caitlyn has enough of her own sins Vi can yell about. Caitlyn snaps and Vi snarls and then she just—just leaves. Leaving Caitlyn with an ache in her chest and a low in her gut that screams for something more. 

Caitlyn ignores the urge firmly. 

Until she needs something from her room. 

Part of her prays Vi is going to be gone when she gets there. It’s only a matter of time before she flees. Caitlyn knew she would look at her with hatred when she woke up. She knew but it’s like anticipating a stab. The anticipation makes it hurt all the more. She needs to relax into the pain. Breathe into it. She’s had a long time to drink in Vi. To memorize her scars an features, to think on her actions. Vi has been unconscious the entire time. They are on different levels . Again. At one point that was her worst fear when it came to Vi. Now the image of her body washed in antiseptic with machines breathing for her is permanently brand by behind her eyes. It still aches when she opens the door and the room is predictably empty. The only sign anyone was here is the dangling tube Vi ripped out of her arm. 

“Shit—“

But not the bathroom. 

“Shit. Shit--“ the swearing continues, low and angry. Caitlyn hears the toilet paper spin through the door, “fuck.”

“Vi,” she raps on the door, “may I come in?”

“No!” the answer is snarled though the door. 

“No?” Caitlyn repeats, “Vi, the bleeding is not going to stop,” the toilet paper roll stops spinning, “it’s me or my father. Which do you want?”

What is she still doing here?

“Fine!” 

Caitlyn opens the door easily. Vi is standing in front of the toilet closet, ball of toilet paper in her hand. There’s red spotted paper everywhere. Red across Vi’s stomach. Caitlyn has sworn things will go slow, she will give Vi everything she needs. But her heart clenches at the splatter and before she can stop herself she’s in front of Vi, shoving her shirt up to check the bandage. Vi jumps back at the touch like Caitlyn has burned her. All the fears Caitlyn had about being the one to touch her come roaring back as Vi puts several steps between them. Her face is twisted, lip curled. She looks like a snarl made human. 

“Sorry,” Caitlyn says quickly, “I thought—“

“I didn’t tear those!” Vi snarls, “I’m not that useless.”

“I never said that!” Caitlyn shoots back. 

“Your face did!” Her tone pitches in volume, “I guess you were too busy arresting my sister!”

“She surrendered!” Caitlyn screams right back. 

“I bet you just loved that!” Vi continues, ignoring Caitlyn’s very fair point, “how many wet dreams have you had about her surrendering?!” Caitlyn reels with the accusation and something cruel sparks in Vi’s eyes, “So you got your satisfaction because Caitlyn Kiramman always gets what she wants in the end and us Undercity scum are just left following in your wake!” 

Caitlyn screams. 

She can’t help it. t’s like she’s been holding her breath this entire time. Maybe since her mother died. Certainly she’s been holding it while Vi lays and dies, while she brings endless trays to Jinx and tries to sort out the entire mess she’s gotten them into. She’s reshaped the world with her grief, brought them to the brink of war. And somehow that is easier to reconcile than the helplessness of watching Vi lay there. Of hearing the truths from Jinx’s lips. It rips from her chest in one brutal noise that echoes around the bathroom. 

She hasn’t screamed in here since Jinx clawed her fingers around her mouth and cut the sound off. 

This one just echoes around the vast space. Over the blood soaked tissues and the woman in front of her who Caitlyn loves but doesn’t love her back. Who thinks she is horrible and doesn’t know that Caitlyn has been fighting her way back this entire time. That the mere memory of Vi’s love is enough to carry her through. But she cannot say that. She cannot force the apology from her lips so she just howls. 

She grips the lip of the sink afterwards, panting like she’s run for miles. Like they are back on that battlefield and she is dragging Vi away. She is vaguely aware of Vi standing there staring at her. She drags her eyes up to the mirror. Vi’s remain locked on her. Confusion has wiped across the rage. Whatever response she was expecting from Caitlyn, apparently her screaming was not it. Caitlyn tries to collect herself as Vi watches her in confusion. Unsure of what to do. Of course she is unsure, it’s the first time she’s been upright for any stretch of time. Caitlyn does not know how she is standing. The blood loss is not helping matters. 

“I apologize,” she says, collecting herself, “you’re right. May I see your arm?”

Vi thrusts it out wordlessly. Probably to get out of the bathroom as quickly as she possibly can. Caitlyn doesn’t blame her. Vi has angrily ripped out the catheter. Caitlyn’s actions have once again torn at her. Caitlyn guides her elbow over to the sink and opens the medicine cabinet to pull out the hemostatic gauze. Things go almost automatic. She places it on the crook of Vi’s elbow and curls her arm around it. It’s like moving automatically as she undoes the wrist brace with one hand and puts it aside to wipe clean. She wets regular paper and wipes the blood from Vi’s wrist, careful not to get anything else wet. 

Then she remembers Vi is watching her. 

“Sorry—“

“Stop apologizing,” Vi cuts her off, “you—seem better at this,” her eyes narrow, “Ambessa give you time to have hobbies?”

“My father is a doctor,” she reminds Vi. 

“Bullshit, I’ve seen your patch jobs, Cupcake,” she says, “this is new.”

Caitlyn checks the pad, pleased with the progress before she returns he hand to Vi’s elbow to keep it up.  Instead of the smooth, familiar skin of Vi’s elbow, her hand meets Vi’s own. That snaps her back into the present. Vi is awake. She can hold up her own elbow. Caitlyn has just gone on automatic given how many times she has cleaned Vi up. Vi is considering something. Her eyes drag around the bathroom and she peers over Caitlyn’s shoulder. The entire time her elbow remains around the gauze, arm lifted above her heart. Her eyes lock onto Caitlyns.

“You’ve been taking care of me?” 

“Yes,” Caitlyn says, “I’m sorry I know this was an overstep. I wanted to make you as comfortable as possible. You’ve been under the care of doctors. Not my father.” 

“And this?” She says, jerking her head to the bandage. 

“I thought you wouldn’t like a stranger touching you. Or you would like that less than if I did,” Caitlyn says, “we worked together,” she tries to justify, “so I thought I was the better option.” 

Vi looks away. Caitlyn hates that she cannot look at her. All this time she only wanted Vi’s eyes to be open. Now she wishes desperately they could look at her. What right does she have to want anything from Vi? She turns to the wrist brace and focuses on wiping it clean. She can do this at least. While Vi gathers her strength to yell at her like Caitlyn deserves. She dries the brace with one of the cloths by the sink and offers it to Vi. She can ask someone else for help. Then she can come back and yell some more. Caitlyn can at least let her have that. 

Vi offers her wrist instead. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she says quietly, “I would have hated that.” 

Caitlyn focuses only on Vi’s wrist as she tries to do the brace up without touching her. Vi’s arm wiggles and she immediately flattens her hand along the join, supporting it. Like when Vi was limp. She looks up to see something satisfied on Vi’s face at the contact. Caitlyn feels her own face get hot as she tuns back to the wrist in her hand, easing the brace on it and doing it up. Vi straightens her arm fully and lets Caitlyn wind the gauze the rest of the way around the injury. 

“Why?” Vi blurts out abruptly, catching Caitlyn off guard, “I was unconscious, why did what I want matter?” 

She’ll go to the ends of the earth for the people she loves. 

“What you want always matters,” she says, “I know I haven’t been the best at showing you that lately. For that I am sorry.” 

Vi stares at her in total confusion. Suddenly everything between them seems to fall away. It’s like they are back in the bedroom, Vi in her red jack and her in her purple dress. Vi is staring at her like she has reached into a place she did not even know existed. It sends a warm feeling through Caitlyn’s chest. Surprising someone as brave as Vi, someone who tries to plan for the worst case in every scenario. But still tries anyway. Caitlyn’s never impressed anyone like that, not in a way that means something. Vi doesn’t leave the bathroom when Caitlyn finishes. Instead she joins her next to the sink. They both lean against it silently, but close enough to feel Vi’s warmth. 

“So that scream—

“I don’t know what that was,” Caitlyn starts.

“How long you been holding that in?” Vi asks. 

Caitlyn sighs. 

“Probably since my mother’s funeral,” she admits. 

Vi nods. 

The feel of her thigh next to hers catches Caitlyn off guard. Vi doesn’t look at her, doesn’t acknowledge that she’s moved closer. But something warm curls through her belly. She has spent so long touching Vi in a practical way. A chaste way. Now Vi is not limp, not choiceness. And she chooses to press her thigh to Caitlyns. To stand next to her in the bathroom. Instead of doing what she wants to do and run off to see her sister. Some part of her wants to be here with Caitlyn. 

What will you do if she chooses me?

It’s hard to be loved like that.

“That’s a long time,” Vi says finally. 

Caitlyn nods. Vi opens her mouth and then closes it, blowing out a breath. The question hovering. 

“She’s as fine as I’ve seen her,” Caitlyn says, “I got her to eat every third day at minimum. We talked.”

Vi’s eyes go wide and hungry. 

“You talked?” She says, “with words?”

“Yes,” Caitlyn says. 

Vi looks like she cannot comprehend what is being said. 

“Bullshit,” she says but there’s no anger there, “what did you talk about?”

She loves you.

Do you love her?

Will you still love her?

“How your sister almost blew me up when I ruined your job in Jayce’s lab,” she says instead. 

“Wait, what?!”

Caitlyn inclines her head. Vi’s disbelief mirrors her own. It helps given how annoyed Jinx looked. Apparently she is not the only one who cannot wrap her head around the idea. Surely the pair of them have to be right and Jinx is just—too smart for her own good. Vi turns fully towards her, breaking the contact and staring at her in disbelief. But she knows exactly what she is talking about. Caitlyn can practically see her flipping though her memories, trying to pinpoint the moment. 

“I dropped something from a box.”

A surprised laugh leaves Vi’s lips. A sound Caitlyn wasn’t sure if she would ever hear again. Especially with her speaking. She can see the recognition plain on Vi’s face. Recognition and warmth and something more. Something Caitlyn can’t quite put her finger on. But something she wants to see more of in those alert grey eyes.

“That was you?” She nods, “you scared the crap out of me, Cupcake,” Vi says. 

The nickname cuts through Caitlyn’s core Cupcake. She likes it so much when Vi calls her Cupcake now. She really is turning into such a sap. Caitlyn knows it has nothing to do with the nickname. It has to do with the way Vi’s eyes light when she says it, the way her mouth twists like she’s proud of thinking of it. 

“Then I guess we’re even,” she says. Vi goes silent. Considers her with those sharp grey eyes of hers, “About that an—“

Vi touches her knee. 

“Yeah,” Vi cuts in, “think we’re even.”

She will never, ever be worthy of this love. 

But she will spend the rest of her life trying to be. 

“I need to go take care of some things,” she says getting to her feet. 

Vi watches her with some confusion. Caitlyn hates to break the contact. But she knows her time is running out. Vi trails her out of the bathroom and watches as she goes into the closet and puts a fresh shirt in front of her. Vi is already in her boots. Caitlyn goes to the door. Everything in her wants to stay in that room with Vi gently touching her knee. But this is not about what she wants. She has taken enough. Vi would willingly give her the world without a second thought. Caitlyn refuses to let that happen. 

“I know it may be too soon to speak about the upcoming battle,” she says, “but if you need to find me I will be at the Hexgate with all the guards.”

Vi inhales sharply. 

“When will you be back?” She asks, voice tight. 

“I don’t know,” Caitlyn says. 

She reaches into the bedside drawer and produces a small bottle of white tablets, placing them on the table next to Vi. 

“These should help with the pain if you are moving around too much,” she says.

She walks to the door.

Vi’s eyes are hot on her neck. There is so much Caitlyn wants to say. So much she wants to repeat. She wants to tell Vi everything, make her understand the answer to Jinx's question has always been 'I will love you anyway'. But this is not about her. And Vi has given enough. So Caitlyn gathers up the part of her that wants to beg Vi to please not go far. Or to please come back. Or to please stay, since she just got here. Since Caitlyn loves her more than she knew she could. But right now that is not what Vi needs. She needs what some part of her has always needed. She needs to go get her sister. 

"Don't pull or lift anything heavy," she says instead, "nothing more than opening a door."

Then she opens her own and walks away. 

[themultiuniversal]

I think it's a shame that The Boy and The Heron was released under that name rather than the original Japanese title "How do you live?" because that's literally the theme and the core message of the film.

Like, I spent a good few hours after I finished watching it puzzling over the film's themes because at first glance it looked like it had a million different themes and most of them either didn't resolve by the end, happened only briefly, or appeared out of thin air in the last half of the film.

(Heavy spoilers under cut)

So the first part of the film discussed the effects of war, loss, and acceptance in typical ghibli fashion as Mahito lost his mother and struggled to move on past it. There's also a dash of classism, self-harm, and masculinity when Mahito went to the new school looking obviously like a rich kid, gets beat up for it, then hit himself with a rock in, what i assume, is either an attempt to not go school to avoid the other kids or to look to his father like he actually put up a fight and didnt just got away with light bruises in a misguided attempt to look tough/masculine.

In the second part he went into the tower world and there's the topic of death/life (with the warawara and the noble pelican), taboos, leaving a legacy behind (as the great granduncle wants to leave the world behind to Mahito and let him decide how to build it forward), self-worth (Mahito denying the offer and choosing to go back to the world because the scar was a sign of his "malice" which he thought could affect this new world), and plot thread of loss/acceptance is tied together as Mahito accepts Natsuko as his new mother and choose to return to the world.

And for the life of me I couldn't figure out how the whole thing ties together. It felt like there's a divide in the middle, around when Mahito found Natsuko then blacked out and met his great granduncle, where the films kind of shifts from one set of themes to another.

*mini aside*

(I also felt like the worldbuilding/settings kind of changed around here. Initially the world was an afterlife of sorts with dead people and warawara as reincarnated souls. Human visitors gets attacked by the pelicans unless guarded by the blue heron, a stand in for the reaper/boatman/charon who guides and guards souls to the underworld. Then at the end it turned into a world created by the great granduncle using the power of the stone, with the whole afterlife dealio just being discarded. Like, when the parakeets were first introduced they were at the blacksmith and it was implied they weren't meant to be there - so who occupied the blacksmith in the first place? The dead people? Were there other people there? I assume not since you need to get to the tower and there's the whole bit about the blue heron bringing you in so why would there be other people there? So who was in that house???)

(Also the parakeets were going to use himi to bargain for more power and stuff but the king just brought her up to the great granduncle, told him "yo, mahito did a taboo", then kinda left without asking anything before immediately sneaking back and destroying all the stones??? What was up with that???)

*end of aside*

Anyway, so I couldn't figure out how it all tied together until I remembered the original japanese name for the film.

"How do you live?"

And it clicked.

Mahito was struggling with that very question in the first part. His mother died. There's war. Life sucks. School sucks. How do you live?

And through all his adventures he kind of accepted all that and made peace with it. He made friends. He appreciated the people around them for who they are. He rejected his great granduncle's offer of a perfect world he can control in favour of the real world with all the people he loved, despite the war, the suffering, the evil, and everything. Himi rejected Mahito's offer of going to his time with him despite knowing her fate because she know that, regardless, she will have lived a happy life.

They answered the question - "How do you live?"

And it's a bloody shame that core context, that crux of the story, got changed in the English release.

[verdemoun]

What happens if the gang was found a document show about the reform school sean went to? Since sean never goes into detail what happen to him, what would their reaction/responses be?

Like, say there trying to find something to watch and they find this documentary about reforms schools, “oh, didn’t sean mention he went to one? Maybe we should watch it” and then they see a photo of one of the classes and then boom!! It’s a picture of sean

(Sorry this is weird or makes so sense)

People also forget Bill canonically went to reform school too.

Sean's started to drop some reform school lore, see here and here.

Lenny would get curious because despite it having been 12 years since Sean timewarped, and therefore decades since reform school, the subject still comes up the second Bill and Sean decide to go for a drink together not long after Bill timewarps.

Bill and Sean had always been able to talk in a way the gang hadn't understood, but the pair hadn't actually made the connection they both went to reform school until after timewarping and were very quick to discuss war stories and the horrors they endured in hushed whispers and dark humored laughter.

Lenny, politely eavesdropping as a concerned partner (it's always a concern when Sean starts drinking hard, considering how long it's been since he cut back to drinking socially) finally catches the name of the reform school Sean went to.

Lenny starts obsessing. Even in 1899, they knew what reform school usually meant. He'd watched documentaries, most about schools in the 20th century. He'd privately had nightmares about what Sean might have gone through. He thinks he has an idea. But now he has a name.

Not a lot of documentaries exist from that time period. But documents? Specifically state reports and judicial inquiries into abuse in those institutions that a college professor would have significantly easier access to?

Lenny is reading a 900-page report about Sean's reform school - the abuse, the horror endured by children at the hands of staff and other children during the years Sean must've been there. And then there's a photo: Reformee 1-8-4-8. Ironic: that's Sean's pin number. There's a lot of photos, none of a face.

There's something sickly nostalgic about old photos. Because to the gang, they're not really old. Images in sepia, blurred by motion - that's how photos looked to them. It's looking at a photo the way they're meant to be looked at for the gang, the way they grew up with and knew photographs.

Except Lenny can recognise those freckles. Not really freckles: moles. Those distinct spots that look almost black in grainy 1890s photographs. And fresh, bloody whip marks that he recognizes as faint scars running along Sean's lower back.

Lenny spent days reading the testimony of reformee 1-8-4-8. He read about being locked in the chapel cells - not cellar, cells, no different to prison cells, for days or weeks with only bread and water. Straitjackets with gags that left boys almost immobilized but if they found the strength to stand they would be punished with another day of the jacket. Sweatboxes, ironically named, where they were locked in boxes as small as coffins and hosed with cold water until they agreed to submit or froze to death. Boys in the shoe shop made to tan the leather straps that would later be used to beat them. The things that happened in the night.

He reads the testimony of an anonymous victim of this reform school, and then he sees his husband: happy, safe, laughing as he gives his daughter a piggy back ride around the room and whines to Karen that he's hungry only to be met with the typical onslaught of 'I have to get Maeve ready for school pick her up from school entertain her after school and all you do is deliver pizzas. If you're so hungry you should've got something from work!!'.

That night, Sean crawls into bed and kisses him with the same 'maybe?' grin he always has. And Lenny rubs the small of his back under his shirt, not to much feeling the scars but the way the muscle of Sean's back rises between each ridge.

And he tells him he's there, if he ever wanted to talk - about anything. About reform school, about the Ike Skelding gang, about 1899, Lenny will always listen.

Sean pauses for all of a second. A long second, but a second, before he laughs and says why would he want to when the now, the present, was all he wanted?

Lenny laughed, wrapped his arms around his husband, and watched the heavy rise and fall of Sean's chest as he fell asleep. Lenny did not. He laid awake, wondering if timewarp was a second chance for some more than others.

[cassandra-knows]

Ff

As a Millennial I was scarred by having my formative political years coincide with the rise of Dubya.

I didn't think anyone could possibly be thick enough to vote him in. And they didn't-! But he was escorted over the line by others in power, went on to miss a devastating attack on home soil and used it to start a war for oil, THEN GOT ELECTED FOR REAL ON THAT RECORD. All while coming across as a total nitwit.

Since I was in middle school I have been dumbfounded by what Republicans will steal in broad daylight and browbeat everyone into shifting the overton window to accept. No one called foul on them. No one EVER calls foul on them.

You can go all the way back to America's Original Sin and see the exact same pattern that has repeated over and over and over again. A small group of wealthy people pitch a fit about a policy that would hamper their acquisition of more wealth and power, cloaking their greed in the language of religious righteousness or patrotism or paternalism or fearmongering, and the rest of the people with wealth and power may talk a good game about equity and justice but at the end of the day they have far more in common with their fellow parasites so they agree to carve out an exception for them. But the wealth addicts have no concept of 'enough', only 'more' so they spend a few decades learning to exploit the status quo and when they hit that ceiling that bust through it increasingly brazen audacity and act like they're the victims, or they're entitled to it, or God promised it to them, or just WHAT'RE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT, HUH? Actually ousting and defanging these leeches would risk the whole country coming undone. (WOULD IT THOUGH?! Maybe now, but that's because it's been left to fester for so long!!!) So we'll pretend this coup/ethnic cleansing/fraud on the people doesn't actually count. But just this once! Just the one time. We'll definitely get serious and punish the next person who tries something really bad.

When I was a teen I was appalled by everything about the War On Terror. I couldn't understand why my fellow youths weren't marching in the streets. Our parents were former hippies, what happened to that spark?! The apathy was deafening. It broke something in me: I felt so helpless.

Now I know why they didn't march. Because the hippies were always a minority counter culture, and the rest bought into Greed Is Good, this is how the world works so you better learn to play the game. Even my former hippie dad was adamant that I needed to learn the game in order to look after myself. As a generation Millennials were told a lie about how to secure our futures, and certainly older Millennials bought it. If the global economy hadn't crashed in 2008, it we'd been allowed the same advantages as our parents, we would be just as insufferable as the worst Boomers.

I worry that the decades of zero options, zero hope, zero money, have fostered that apathy. We literally couldn't go anywhere or do anything because that requires money. Many of us still live hand to mouth. I've half-joked for years that our generation's retirement plan is going to have to be to dismantle capitalism, but it becomes truer every day.

The system is working as designed. We are all too tired, too poor, too anxious, too sick, or too scared to take any risks. We're all one car failure or health incident away from penury. We keep hoping someone will go marching in on our behalf and sort things out, clean up the mess, provide some relief, be the adult in the room.

There are no adults here but us.

Do we deserve to call ourselves adults if we won't take a stand for something that really matters?

Adulting didn't have to be hard. America didn't have to be hard. Other people made them hard and convinced us that was the right and proper way to do things.

We're burned out and barely hanging on for whose benefit? The gerontocracy that refuses to let go of power, but WILL die sooner than they want to accept? The shareholders who are addicted to making money, even though they could never spend it all in a human lifespan?

I don't think I'm the immature one here. I'm not the snowflake who has a tantrum when someone suggests I share the toys I stole. If I'm sent to the corner I don't call the other kids liars who are out to get me. I don't crap myself in public or fall asleep at my own trial. And I'm not dumb enough to believe it when a kid covered in chocolate tells me he's never taken any pudding but if he did that would be fine because he deserves pudding and he should definitely be given more pudding now.

America is being held hostage by squalling toddlers.

No one is coming to save us but us.

We are the adults in the room, if we act like it.

[liquid-luck-00]

Marks of Magic

Day 3 Curse of Maribat Spooktober 2023

First *** Previous *** Next

Language and cursing is used

1470 words

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On one hand her parents were supportive and agreed that her taking time away from Paris would be good for her. So they helped her pack on Saturday night, seeing as she was leaving very early on Monday morning.

She didn't hear anything about Gabriel Agreste, but there were whispers wondering why Hawkmoth was quiet.

No she hasn't said anything, except to Luka, no one else knows that the war in Paris is over. There was no way she could after all. She couldn't become Ladybug, and she couldn't do it as Mari without her life turning upside down. Hopefully the people of Paris will believe the miraculous went dormant.

Hopefully.

Sunday she tried to adjust to E.S.T. so she wouldn't be too jet lagged on Monday. And it worked to an extent, mostly she got some much needed sleep and was able to make it through with a cup of coffee.

There was only enough time for her to set her things in the apartment, that was provided with the transfer program, and change into the uniform before leaving again.

She grabbed her backpack and left for the Academy, which was less than a block away.

She arrived a bit early and made her way to the office.

"Hello?" She called out to the empty office.

"Oh! Hi there." A woman popped her head out of an adjoining room. "How can I help you?"

"I’m here to pick up my schedule."

"Oh the new transfer student."

"That would be me." She smiled at the woman who had moved to the desk by the door.

"Your name please, hun."

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"And here we go, and you’ll need this too." She printed out a paper and pulled a second from a cabinet. She grabbed a pen from a cup and started marking a map she had pulled out. "Here we go, sweetie."

"Thank you, madame."

She called as she left the office and stepped into the hall.

She easily found her home room class, the door was slightly ajar. Inside the teacher was at his desk and a single student was in the classroom, the others she passed in the courtyard and hallways.

"Hello Mr. Argyle."

The teacher looked up. "You’re the new student?"

"Yes sir."

"Only desk open is next to Mr. Todd." He pointed at the boy who was currently reading. Before promptly ignoring her and continued reading over the papers in front of him.

So she started walking towards the boy, Todd she recalled he was called.

"Hello." She smiled at him as she was about to put her bag down.

"Fuck off." He responded without even looking at her.

She blinked, and before she could think her mouth moved before her brain could process wether it would be an appropriate response.

"Well aren’t you charming." She set her things down and pulled out her sketch book. "And for the record, this is apparently the only open seat."

"You’re new, aren’t you?"

"Really! What gave it away?" She snorted, before looking over. He was staring at her as if she were a puzzle. Once the silence between them stretch a bit to long she quirked a brow, which broke him from his daze.

"Sorry about that, habit'.'

He rubbed the back of his neck. His black hair was messy, styled up out of his face. His eyes a blue, lighter than her own, with flecks of green. A small scar ran through his upper lip, as of he had been in a fight.

"It’s fine, I wasn’t much better after all." Her lips flicked in a small short smile. "Marinette."

"Jason."

They each turned towards their silent time occupants, until the bell rang a few minutes later. Their classmates started to file in and take their seats, where Mari was instantly pounced on, a group of students flocked the table to ask questions.

"Class is about to start, so sit down."

"No one was talking to you." A red haired girl with green eyes snapped at Jason, Alice she introduced herself as.

"You don’t want to rub off on the poor girl." A boy with blonde hair and grey eyes followed.

"Why are you talking to him like that?" She had to ask.

"He’s cursed no one can stand sitting at the same desk everyone has to transfer to another class within a week." Alice explained as if she was stupid.

"He’s a street rat and doesn’t belong. That’s all there is to it." Mathew, the boy sneered.

Great they really are everywhere. Now that is a real curse not whatever they think this is.

She looked behind her towards Jason. When she did he jumped out of his seat, hands balled into fists.

"I’ll show you what a street rat can do to you, a pansy rich kid." Jason snarled.

"Just cause you were adopted by someone in our circle." He motioned towards the rest of the room. "Doesn’t mean you have class."

Jason was pulling back as of to throw a punch, but she was unfortunately between both boys at the moment.

"Then why don’t you lead by example." That took everyone by surprise, so much Jason froze mid swing.

"Boys!" The teacher finally decided to intervene. "Everyone in your seats now!"

There was some grumbling among the students but she learned quite a bit from that.

One, there was a hierarchy, just like DuPont, but here it was measured by wealth than by achievement.

Two, Alice and Mathew were the queen and king, no one else tried to stop or say a thing.

Three, the teachers might actually do something, but only if things were getting out of control.

Well it’s a start, she took a breath as Mr. Argyle took attendance. Home room is just quiet time slash study hall after all so she looked down at her sketch book. She pulled her new journa from her bag and flipped to the first empty page. Which she placed between the two of them.

M. They are just assholes, don’t let it get under your skin.

Jason glanced at the words before stealing a glance at her.

J. They aren’t wrong.

M. That doesn’t mean they have to tear you down.

He lifted the pen almost going to write but stopped. She almost thought to write more when he did.

J. It doesn’t matter, you aren’t going to be her long anyways.

He turned to the book in front of him ignoring her completely. She doesn’t know why those words stung as hard as they did. She is only here for a semester, and in the long run that’s not long at all. Maybe it's because he might believe he is cursed. But she could guess why if the snippets of gossip the two shared was actually true.

Everyone ostracized him because of his early upbringing, thinking he is lesser, but she has a feeling that’s not the case.

Homeroom was coming to a close so she pulled out her map and schedule to see what was next. Ancient history to the 16th century, at least she wasn’t studying American history, that would kill her.

The bell rang and she started gathering her things.

"I can take you."

"I’m sorry?"

She looked at Jason. "History I’ve got it next too."

"Oh. That would be great." She smiled grateful he was at least talking to her.

"Seriously girl, you don’t want to become a social pariah on your first day, do you?" She heard Alice sneer, those words pulled memories from Paris that she really didn't want brought up right now.

Resulting in her sassing off like she was talking to her ex-friends in Paris. "If the alternative is kissing up to you I’ll pass, let’s go."

She practically marched out of the room, pulling Jason out of the room by his sleeve cuff.

"She’s right you know."

"People like her are insufferable. Why are there bullies everywhere I go! I swear I’m cursed to cross paths with them." She walked beside him, pouting as he led the way.

"Let me see your schedule." She handed him the page, and soon she heard him laughing.

"What’s so funny?"

"We have the same class schedule, which means you’ll have three more classes with her."

"Ugh." She deflated, then a thought occurred to her. "That means you’ll be there too, and you are so far the least insufferable person I’ve met so far." She smirked at him.

"Oh well that has to change." A smirk on his lips flashed as well. "I can be plenty insufferable."

Well this isn't going to be half as boring as she feared. In fact its shaping up to be a blast. Who cares what some stuck up rich kids think about her anyways. She is the savior of Paris and she decides how her life will unfold.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list:

@jennifer-rose123

[bentosandbox]

Chen (guard) module 2 TL

Towards the past

The scars of the land run from across the horizon, striking a Victorian building complex with such precision the structures collapsed in a radial pattern around a singular point, like a cyclone-struck forest. Amidst the ruins of this miniscule empire, two figures clamber up a fallen monolith trying to find a vantage point.

"Just how long has this place been deserted?" Chen stands on the ruins gazing into the distance, the stone slabs behind her once displaying names as symbols of honour, now all worn out beyond recognition.

"They abandoned this area ever since the war broke out, and the juniors still studying were all shuttled to the new campus to finish their classes... That's our old training grounds in front of us, Chenchen. Remember?" Bagpipe's voice travels from below.

"All too well. Always felt like we missed out on some good stuff when we were students. They fixed up both the road and the grounds only after graduation."

A shockwave had splintered the training grounds into separate chunks. Chen picks up a rock and throws it into a bush that had sprung up from the crevices, sending the resident featherbeasts screeching and fluttering away into the distance.

"Come on, it was already good enough then." Bagpipe's voice came from far away, lingering in Chen's ears.

"I suppose. That was probably the most simple time in my life. I only had to concentrate on training and studying with no troublesome problems to think of."

"So that's what got you spending all day everyday in a training frenzy and acing all our common subjects?" Bagpipe puts her hands on Chen's shoulders, shaking her gently.

"After I went back, I realised there were too many things a sword alone could not solve. And sometimes, even if I worked my hardest, there were so many things I couldn't change, and I just felt so insignificant—sometimes simply destroying the enemy doesn't solve the problem." Chen shakes her head, as if trying to throw out all the complex thoughts from the past out of her mind.

The two of them walk down the high slope, the flower garden from their memories still present.

The Guard School sign once raised up high was now half sunken in the dirt, leaning against a broken stone pillar. The sunlight pours down on the rusty signage as the sun sets, and what little lustre reflecting off the metal testifies to the place's former glory.

"Everything's changed... Victoria included, right?" Chen mumbles to herself as she stares at the school crest.

"Some people never change, though. I made sure to visit Instructor Taylor a few days before when I knew you were coming. Back then, you left so quick you left behind all your papers and stuff behind in the dorm—and she's kept it all safe all these years. Here's your school certs. Oh right, and this too!"

Bagpipe pulls out a stack of documents from her carry-on along with a wooden sword.

"This here's your training sword from back then. Technically it's school property, but your grades were so good the instructor wanted to give it to you as a surprise gift..."

"Thank her for me. I left so quickly back then..."

"At least you've come back. In these last few years, many of our classmates... they won't ever get to."

The two were silent for a moment.

"Where do you reckon you'll be in ten years?"

"Who knows. I have to go back, there's still so much to do." Chen looks into the distance, in Lungmen's direction. "Back then, it was them who decided for me to come and leave here, but now, I'm going back on my own accord."

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i know lore =/= gameplay but the idea of a wooden sword giving 70 DEF ignore is so funny uhm this was so good chenpipe besties froever