#I also took off his scars because this is how I imagine Indigo using his alter ego???
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Pardon... but... Indigo in an 80s inspired outfit.
Click for a better image.
Boy, do I miss the crop tops and short shorts men wore in that time period. 😔
#my art#solmuse art#oc#my oc#original slasher#original character#messy sketches#suggestive#I also took off his scars because this is how I imagine Indigo using his alter ego???#Like Iris has the bimbo persona#Indigo has the golden retriever himbo persona#no scars = power of makeup idc I make the rules#this is a fantasy thing but in reality he'd be more covered up#oc: iris#oc: Indigo
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Corren - 1 through 100 - You did this to yourself.
FUCK YOU *UN-IRONICS YOUR ASK*
UNDER THE FUCKING CUT
1. What do they smell like?
Bad. Do you think their party is able to regularly take showers? I thinketh the fuck not. ... Pine and old books when he can self care tho.
2. What is their voice like?
Listen I know Corren, being taller, would be more likely to have a deeper register but you'll tear "tenor Corren" out of my cold dead hands
3. What is their biggest motivator?
Spite.
4. What is their most embarrassing memory?
When he first met his BFF Alondra, he was so antisocial and good at ignoring people that she actually got the impression he might have been hard of hearing. She never let him live that down. (one day I'll finish this fic i promise)
5. How do they deal with/react to pain?
"I will keep all of my pain in here, and one day I'll die." ... Okay but listen he's squishy so he takes like one hit and is bloodied up. Someone get him a healer. Pls.
6. What do they like to wear?
He likes his cloak. Its weighty and soft(well. WAS soft. got a bit of wear and tear these days.) and like. Who doesnt love cloaks.
7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?
Ohhhhh fuuuccck this one's tough. I might have to go with Torvid honestly. While the entire party has had a positive impact on him(and trust me I was this close to picking Alistair), Torvid's been more of the one to call him out on his bullshit and to, oh I don't know, talk about your emotions? Ever??? Yknow BEFORE they become too much to handle and he absolutely breaks down???
8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?
Alistair's cooking.
9. Describe the way that they sleep.
Good luck finding him NOT cuddled up with at least one dog. Tbh he just enjoys cuddles in general.
10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?
FUCKIN. GIVE HIM A GOOD STEAK. THIS BOY IS MOSTLY CARNIVORISTIC.
11. What do they feel most insecure about?
As tempted as I am to say "His cooking", it's actually his singing.
12. How do they like to dress?
"Comfort over flashiness tbh. I gotta go ADVENTURING in whatever I wear after all."
"... Also don't you DARE perceive me as cishet."
13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?
Call him a genie because he will BOTTLE THAT SHIT UP.
14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?
Denial :D
15. What is their greatest achievement?
Shrike: Killing his dad
Me: NOOOOOO
EDIT: WAIT THIS WAS ANSWERED IN Q99 WHAT THE HECK
16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?
Somehow more of a dick than usual. Snappy and cranky and just. Mrehhh.
17. What are they like when they’re drunk?
Doesn't get drunk often, but when he does I imagine he's actually giggly and a little clingy. It's cute :)
18. What kind of music do they enjoy?
*Opens my Corren playlist* Oh yeah. It's either full edgy alt rock or indie alt "depressed millenial" tracks.
19. Are they right or left handed?
FFFuuhhhhck uhhhh well
Looking over my old art I can't seem to pick a dominant hand(I've even drawn him handling his sniper with either hand???????????) so like oops guess he's ambidextrous.
20. Fears?
The dark, the ocean, dying alone and forgotten, his friends losing their trust of him
21. Favorite kind of weather?
Rain!!!! Especially cool rain like what people often get in fall months.
22. Favorite color?
Indigo!!!
23. Do they collect anything?
Books :3
24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?
Cold weather by far.
25. What is their eye color?
Electric blue!
26. What is their race/ethnicity?
Well his race is a homebrew race known as Marelienth. Uhhh ethnicity? Idk he's from a mountain town way up north *shrugs*
In human aus I imagine him as half-Mongolian half-Norwegian so ayee
27. Hair color?
Black!
28. Are they happy where they are currently?
No :D He loves adventuring with his party don't get me wrong but he still has a lot of trauma to unpack. ... Also he was just possibly broken up with soooo. :/
29. Are they a morning person?
NOPE.
30. Sunrise or sunset?
*motions to above question* Sunset.
31. Are they more messy or more organized?
More organized, actually!
32. Pet peeves?
*unravels a list. It's all shit the party has done. Mostly Alistair.*
33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?
HOOUSIDSJFK- HE- Y-YEAH HE SURE DOES
His amethyst pendant used to belong to his brother, Julian, and he gave it to Corren right before they were separated so you BET it's sentimental as shit and he wears it daily.
34. Least favorite food?
Mecha's usually a great cook but one time trolled him with some absurdly spicy curry he couldn't handle and he's never forgiven them.
35. Least favorite color?
Hmmm. Maybe... yellow?
36. Least favorite smell?
He spent a year with his party in a damp cave and no showers, so uh. I'll give you a guess.
37. When was the last time they cried?
Literally last night in our game's timeline :D Full breakdown and everything!
38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?
Torvid :D He was there to comfort
39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?
One time they were in combat and Corren took a few hits and was down to about 2hp or so. He had a temporary level thanks to Kieran, which boosted his HP a little bit. When he teleported them to a safe town, though, well... Torvid was waiting for them so that's cool. But uh. Yeah that temporary level wore off then and there, dropping Corn Cob to exactly 0hp and he just- flopped down face first in the snow and started dying then and there KJNDKLFNSLKN
40. Do they have any scars?
:)
Do you want to talk about the scar over his eye from a fight he got in with his dad or like. The scars on his limbs from the time he was literally experimented on.
41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?
:)
Undiagnosed+Untreated Anxiety, Depression, DPDR, PTSD, just to name a few
42. Do they have any bad habits?
Running away from his problems, definitely.
43. Why might someone dislike them?
He's a pretentious nerd. He can be a dick if he doesn't care about you.
44. Why might someone love them?
He's an adorable nerd! He's a hopeless romantic and oddly enough an optimist. He's passionate and driven too!
45. Do they believe in ghosts?
Well ghosts are like- a canon proven thing in his world sooo. Yeah.
46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?
His party. Well- most in his party.
47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?
Nethyl :)
48. Are they dating/married to anyone?
He's dating Nethyl and they're in a happy and healthy relationship :) *politely ignores canon*
49. Do they like surprises?
NO >:(
50. When is their birthday?
Heroya 5th! I think. I don't wanna check, assume it's this.
51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?
"You guys celebrate your watchdays?"
Jokes aside, he mainly just treats himself to a nice dinner and a new book or something :)
52. Do they have any family?
Two older siblings: Julian and Mila. His parents are Andreas and Fanya!
53. Are they close to their family?
... *Coughs*. He was close with his siblings, but Mila died and he hasn't seen Julian in 30 years. Was close with his dad but last time they saw each other, they fought and Corren might have killed him so. ... Yeah. :/
54. What is their MBTI type?
FUCK uh. I... N... T... J? INTJ. Sure.
55. What is their zodiac sign?
In Sekrezia: The eagle
In our world: Uhhh. Idk. Capricorn????
56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?
Uhhh. Ravenclaw??? I know almost nothing about HP :/
57. What D&D alignment are they?
THIS ONE'S EASY- lawful neutral!
58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?
:)
Used to have typical nightmares, nothing special. Nowadays though he often dreams of being underwater. Not drowning, though. It's... weird. He doesn't like those.
59. What are their views on death?
He's a necromancer lol.
Death is inevitable, though. It's a necessary part of life. Death is not an entire loss, though. One lives on in the memories others carry of them, in the love they hold in their hearts. Death is complicated, but that's okay.
60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?
Alistair :)
61. When bored, how do they pass time?
Dog time :)
62. Do they enjoy being outside?
... Ehhhhhh?
63. Do they have an accent?
Technically??? It's an accent from where he's from but like. I just barely tweak my own voice when I rp him so? Damn Corren I'm sorry you've been cursed with east coast dialect.
64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?
"Damn who's the rich bastard here?" (cake is kinda a delicacy in their world- not like elites only but not NEARLY as common as it is here)
65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say?
Reassurance mode to whomever he's with. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Remember what I told you, death is a natural part of life, yeah? I don't have any regrets, I'm okay... Just. Thanks. For giving me a chance. Thank you. Thank you."
66. How do they feel about sex?
I SWEAR he's allosexual. I'm just bad at writing allosexuals.
67. What is their sexuality?
He doesn't really know how to pin it down, so he just calls himself "queer". Definitely not straight, that's all he knows.
68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?
AHAHA no. He's hella desensitized
69. Is there anything that they find really gross?
Skulking cyst. Look it up at your own volition. It's. NO.
70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?
It's 12:21 in the morning and I'm NOT about to scroll through a bunch of tv tropes just. just. NERD stereotype.
71. Do they enjoy helping people?
Yyyyes? Only really if it's the people he cares about.
72. Are they allergic to anything?
Bullshit.
73. Do they have a pet?
WINGTHARA!! HIS SKELE-DOG!!!
74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?
Oh yeah he's all bark and no bite. He usually just throws a little fit and/or yells.
75. How patient are they?
More than he should be :/
76. Are they good at cooking?
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?
Oh yes he insults the others all the time. No particular favorite, he likes so spice it up.
78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?
Stim. Stim. Stim. His eyes get all sparkly and he. He.
79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?
He will do everything in his power to assure they won't ever have to deal with their fears alone- You afraid of spiders? It's his job to get the spiders from now on so you won't have to deal with them.
80. Are they trustworthy?
Oh yeah. He's like Rapunzel- doesn't break promises.
81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?
Oh yes he tries to hide it. And yes, he's awful at it.
82. Do they exercise regularly?
Yes and no? No like- exercise regimen, but the amount of travelling and fighting they do is just- a workout in and of itself
83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?
Yeah! He's cute and he knows it baybie!!!
84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?
He,,, he likes someone who's physically stong,,, Muscles are,,, aaaaa >///>
85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?
Someone he can nerd out with :)
86. Do they like sweet foods?
Impartial to it. He won't turn sweets away but he's not crazy about them either.
87. What is their age?
43, the equivalent of- I think someone in their mid 30s?
88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?
He's 6'8" :) Which is actually normal for his race
89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?
Sometimes! I like to think he has reading glasses or something like that.
90. Do they consider themselves attractive?
HE'S CUTE AND HE KNOWS IT.
91. What is their sense of humor like?
Julian tainted his sense of humor and now he finds the most dumb shit hilarious. Think very millenial/GenZ humor like "I wish I was Jared, 19"
92. What mood are they most often in?
"I don't get paid enough for this" or Fear.jpg
93. What kinds of things anger them?
People who don't keep their FUCKING WORD. Oh and like. Yknow. Half the shit his party does.
94. Outlook on life?
Again he's??? Oddly an optimist? In the "Things will get better and that is a fucking THREAT" way, but still optimist!
95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?
Talk about his family :) Or the fact that his boyfriend might want him dead :)
96. What is their greatest weakness?
He's squishy as fuck. He goes down easy.
97. What is their greatest strength?
He's extremely intelligent and great with magic and his sniper!
98. Something that they regret?
Not doing more to stop his brother when he tried to resurrect their sister
99. Biggest accomplishment?
Either convincing an entire town his name is Torren or accidentally convincing some very OP people that he's secretly a dragon.
100. Create your own!
FUCK YOU I SPENT LIKE 2 HOURS ON THIS. NO PROOFREAD. IVE ALREADY DESIGNED CORREN'S AND NETHYL'S HYPOTHETICAL KIDS. ANYWAYS THEY'RE TWIN IRINAGA AND I'VE NAMED THEM AFTER THE DNDADS TWINS: THEIR NAMES ARE LARK AND SPARROW.
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WHG 15 Post-Games Brains and Brawn Part 4
This is a day or two after part 3! Tagging: @sparkles-and-hens, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @maple-writes (also thanks for Skyler!), @pen-of-roses, @thoughts-of-nora, and @ratracechronicler!
Churi was looming over me as Triel’s crew was being tortured behind me. I jumped up, trying to get around him, but he just pushed me back down and grabbed my hair. He pulled me up by my hair and laughed. “You think you could escape again? You fool girl. You’re my property. I won’t ever let you go, and anyone who tries to protect you will be destroyed.”
I scratched at him, tried to loosen his grip, but he just kept laughing and laughing…
I woke up with a gasp and sat up. Shit. It had just been a nightmare, but I still sat there, hunched over, shaking. Churi would never leave me alone. I would never be free of him. Sobs escaped my lips, and I curled up on myself tighter. Was I just endangering everyone more by being here? I was a liability. I couldn’t even fight to defend anyone. I was useless.
The door cracked open, and I grabbed my knife that was under my pillow. Until I noticed that it was just Skyler. But why did he open the door? Was there trouble? I lowered my knife and quickly wiped my eyes to get rid of any traces of tears. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
He stared at me. “Uh, you tell me.”
Oh shit. He had heard me. I frowned. “What? I’m fine.”
“You think I’m an idiot?” Double shit.
Time to distract. I set my jaw. “What are you doing up anyway?”
He leaned against the doorframe. “I…I couldn’t sleep.” Sounded like he had bad dreams too.
I nodded. “Me neither…But just because I had too much caffeine. Do you want to walk it out?” I needed to get my mind off the nightmare anyway.
He nodded back. “I know somewhere nice.”
Oh boy! I jumped up. This would be awesome! A nice distraction.
He led me out of the building and down a few blocks to an actual airship! I had been on Triel’s, but seeing another one would be awesome! I smiled and just stared at it.
“This is ours.” He opened the door and hopped in, turning around to help me get in. Which was probably good, since I wouldn’t be able to do that on my own with my leg injuries.
Once we were inside, I grinned and ran my hands along the walls. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks.” He closed the door behind me. “Volt says she stole it years ago.”
“That’s awesome!” Wait. I paused and frowned a little. “Wait, how do you steal an airship? Isn’t it kind of hard to hide it well?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She and Rick won’t talk about it very much.” He led the way into the cockpit where he sat down and checked some of the gauges. “Paint? I never asked.”
Paint was probably correct. I watched him for a little bit and cocked my head. I didn’t know anything about airships. “What are you checking for?”
“There was something wrong with the ventilation system a while ago, but it seems to be holding up now.” He got up and stretched. “I can show you around.”
Awesome! I grinned. “Thanks! I love airships! I just don’t know much about them, so I might ask dumb questions.”
He smiled. “It’s not that big so it won’t take long.” He brought me to a room that had a table and some couches. It looked so cozy! “This is the living room, and there’s a little kitchen off over that way.” He pointed to a doorway off to the side.
Damn. I hadn’t realized it, but I was hungry. “Ooh! Is there popcorn? I tried it earlier, and it’s now my favorite food.”
“Maybe?” He ducked into the kitchen and came back with a bag of the awesome stuff, and he handed it to me. “Don’t know how long it’s been here.”
“Holy shit,” I whispered. I stuffed some in my mouth and smiled. It was sweet! I hadn’t eaten sweet popcorn before. I offered some to him. He had to try it.
He took some, but he made a face after he ate it. How could he do that about such an awesome food? “This must have been Rick’s. He likes sweet things more than I do.” Oh. Understandable. He waved me on, and we kept walking.
We walked through a narrow hallway with doors on either side. Skyler pointed out the rooms as we walked. “This is Volt’s room, and this is Rick’s, and this one is storage…” He paused in front of a room at the end of the hallway. “And this one’s mine.” He opened the door to a small, cozy room. “I think it used to be more storage or some kind of prep area since the hatch to the cargo hold and engine rooms are in the corner here.” He nodded at a hatch in the floor in the far corner.
The engines! That was so cool! I grinned. “This is awesome! It’s so small and safe.” I walked over to inspect the hatch. “I’ve never seen the engines of an airship before. Shine doesn’t let me down there.” I glanced over at him, trying to plead with my eyes.
It must have worked. “Just don’t fuck with anything.” He opened up the hatch and led the way down the ladder. We passed through a mostly empty cargo hold before we made it into a room with tons of machines.
I grinned. “This is awesome!” I yelled the last word to hear it reverberate against the machines. “I can’t believe this is all it needs to fly! I’d never want to come down.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Have you uh, ever flown in one?”
“A little in Triel’s, but I’ve only been with her for a month. I hadn’t thought it would last that long with how much the Shades were hunting me. But Triel had covered her tracks well.” I paused as I rubbed at the scars from my time with the Shades. Why was I even saying this? But I still continued. “I didn’t think I’d ever escape them again this last time.”
“We can take a short flight, if you want. It’s probably best to get it running since it’s been a while.”
I grinned, pushing the other thoughts away. “That would be amazing! I love flying! Thanks!”
He led me back to the cockpit and pointed at another seat, while he sat in the seat he had been in before. “Don’t touch anything.” I sat down as he mumbled something to himself while he started up the airship. I just stared as the airship lifted up, high above the Capitol. It was amazing! The Capitol just looked like a group of glittering lights in the darkness.
He glanced over at me. “What do you think?”
I couldn’t stop staring at the Capitol. “It’s beautiful. I never thought the Capitol could look beautiful. But it does from above.”
“It’s nicer from here.” The airship started to gently move forward, and I grinned wider. This was just so amazing! I couldn’t stop staring at the world below.
At least until he spoke again. “What happened with the shades?”
Shit. I froze for a bit before I smiled over at him. “What do you mean? I’m not scared of shade.”
He frowned, his eyes flitting to where my scars were. Double shit. “You know what I meant.”
Well, I had to explain now. I opened my mouth to do so a few times, but I couldn’t find my voice for a bit. “They—they took me when I was a child and gave me this stupid magic. And then tortured me when I ‘had the gall’ to fight back against their control. I only just escaped a few months ago. And then I had to go back as a victor, and they took me back.” My voice was getting faster and faster as I spoke. “And I fucked everything up because if I could have just not let the crew know what was going on, they would have forgotten about me and helped rescue everyone else instead.” I stopped myself and tensed. I had said way the hell too much. He hadn’t asked me for my life story. “I’m sorry. You don’t really care.” I looked away from him, back out at the Capitol.
It took him a bit to say anything. “I…I do. Care, I mean,” he mumbled. “That’s…A lot.”
I swallowed hard. Why the hell would he care? “Well…thanks for caring. And…I had a nightmare about them. That’s why I was up. Not because of caffeine.”
He nodded out of the corner of my eye, pausing again before he spoke. “Yeah. Me too.”
Sometimes, it felt good to talk about things. And I could not confirm nor deny if that was the case for me this time. But I wanted to offer the opportunity to him. I glanced over at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He stiffened and hesitated, and when he spoke, it was even quieter than before. “My mother handed me over to Indigo one day and I thought she was just taking me for a few days but then she told me what was going on and her people came and took me and kept me in a little room and I didn’t know what was going to happen.” He took a long, shaky breath. Shit. I couldn’t imagine that. “I don’t remember a lot. I figured out they put something in my food to keep me easier to handle but they were still rough, and mean and scary.”
What could I say to that? Comfort wouldn’t be any help. And I sucked at comfort anyway. I sucked in a breath. “I couldn’t imagine that,” I whispered. Churi had always been honest about what he was going to do. That was the one thing I could say about him that was positive in a twisted way. “I really will punch her in the face if I see her again.”
“Most of the time they would talk about me but not really to me like I was more of a thing, or maybe a pet.” He glanced at me. “They didn’t cut me up like you though so I don’t know. There’s that.”
Comparing pain? Nah. I wasn’t going to let that happen. “At least they had always been pretty honest in what they were going to do to me. So, there’s that.” I stared at the Capitol and crossed my arms. It didn’t look so pretty anymore. “But I understand being treated as not human. Churi would always call me his property.”
He cringed at my last sentence. “I think the only reason they didn’t hurt more than they did was so they didn’t leave marks.” He started mumbling. “A few of them would say things like I’d be worth a lot more than others because I was pretty, handsome when I grew up.”
That reminded me of Meras picking out one kid who had grown up to be pretty by her standards. The Shades had just been calling him monster and boy before that, but she chose to name him Kallias only after he was pretty to her. I curled my lips in a snarl. “Sounds like Meras. Pieces of shit.”
He nodded as he had the airship turn gently. “Yeah, they were.”
We stayed silent, both staring out at the Capitol. But when I looked over at Skyler, he looked so upset. Was there a way to distract him from the bad thoughts? I ate some popcorn, trying to think, but then I glanced down at the popcorn and smiled a little. It was a good projectile. I aimed a piece at his head and threw it, hitting right on his forehead.
He looked over at me with a frown, and I shrugged. “I just thought you should have some more popcorn.” He just kept staring at me, but then he held out a hand for some popcorn.
I gave him some. But then I hit him again in the face with another popcorn.
He grinned mischievously back at me and yanked the controls, so that the airship took a sharp turn instead. I yelped and spilled some of the popcorn.
He laughed a little. “Don’t tell Volt I did that.”
I laughed back as I tried to clean up the popcorn. “I won’t. I deserved it anyway.”
He smiled as he leveled the airship again. “Actually, maybe don’t tell her we did this at all. I’m not really supposed to fly without her or Rick on board.”
I grinned back. “But you have me. Surely, I’m a responsible adult. Anyway, I think you’re doing awesome.”
He snorted. “Somehow I don’t think you qualify.”
I clutched my chest, as if he had hurt me. “Rude.” I paused and turned back to the Capitol. It was still pretty, just not as much as it had been. “But thanks. This is amazing.”
“Thanks for coming with me.” The hovercraft started slowing down as it got back to the place where it was. “And listening.”
“Same to you.” I held out a fist for him to fistbump. “Friends?”
He looked over at me with surprise, but then he smiled and fistbumped. “Yeah. Now be quiet while I land this thing.”
We got back down safely, and we walked back without saying anything. Sometimes, silence was fine without having to fill it.
#writeblr hunger games#writeblr#Nesri does not know the difference between airship and hovercraft#she just thinks everything is an airship
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(XCOM) Chosen Stories From the War #2: We’re Not Using the “Zed” Word
For a month, Kon-Mai stayed secluded in the XCOM medical bay, spending most of that month sleeping, in deep meditation, or staring at the ceiling while her thoughts tangled in her mind. Her wounds, despite Malinalli’s assurances, were deep and painful, and often seemed just on the cusp of infection. Her IV contained one dose of antibiotics after another and, when the pain got too bad, the occasional shot of morphine so she could relax enough to sleep.
Seclusion leads to depression. Kon-Mai had never been very social with her brothers before, but being surrounded by the unfamiliar faces of people who kept you at arm's length, it was beginning to wear on her. Tygan was one of the only people who didn’t seem to fear her, but his social skills were lacking to say the least, and thus she didn’t trouble him for conversation.
Her only respite was Malinalli. While often swamped with tending to other injured soldiers, when her nurse could get a moment she would come change her bandages or refill the IV, and then take a bit of extra time away just to talk. She was much more talkative than Kon-Mai would ever be, but even listening to the human girl ramble was a nice reprieve from the solitude.
“I think you need a break.” The girl said to her one morning while changing Kon-Mai’s bandages.
“I have been resting diligently for weeks on end.” Kon-Mai replied. “I am already in the middle of ‘a break’ as you say.”
“I think you need a break from resting.” Malinalli pouted. “You don’t talk to anyone besides me.”
“They do not wish for my companionship.” Kon-Mai tried to sound dismissive. “I am used to being solitary.”
“Is that why you look so sad all the time?”
“I do not look sad, this is just the structure of my face.” Her borther had often commented on her “resting bitch face” and while she hated when he did...she ad to agree. She was no pretty sight.
“Mhm.” Malinalli pulled the new bandages tight and tucked them in. “You’ve gotten most of your strength back, haven't you? If nothing else, your wound looks much better. I don’t even think there’s a risk of dehiscence anymore.”
Kon-Mai was silent. While she’d been out of bed occasionally since the last time, it was only with help from Malinalli and while leaning heavily on a walker, and that was only because her medic insisted that she use her muscles so they didn’t atrophy. There was no other reason: she had no need for food of any kind and, thus, no need for the restroom facilities the other soldiers used. She also had not showered or bathed herself since she arrived, but that was less due to her own genetics and more out of...apathy.
“A bunch of my colleagues usually like to meet in the bar to hang out.” Malinalli kept talking. “I want you to come.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to decline.”
“I told them you were coming though.”
“What?” Kon-Mai bared her sharp teeth and growled. Malinalli flinched, but only for a split second. She stood her ground firmly.
“I can’t pick you up and force you to go.” She said, “I mean literally. You’re a lot heavier than me. But, I want you to.”
“I can assure you, your colleagues DO NOT want me to join them.”
“I think you’d be shocked.” Malinalli said. “They’re really excited to put a face to the name. Everyone’s been talking about you.”
“They fear me.”
“Yeah but…” Malinalli shifted on her feet. “How do I put this...you have a bit of a growing...fan club.”
Kon-Mai growled. “Wonderful. As if the pathetic civilian stalkers were not enough, the very enemy wishes for my attention. Would they like me to autograph their plastic swords?” She said in a high, mocking tone.
“They admire you.” Malinalli insisted. “Facing you in battle made a lot of us realize we’re woefully unprepared in melee combat. Goldilocks has been trying to make a training regimen based on your work but without you it’s all guesswork, and I know she’d love to learn from the best-”
“Cease!” Kon-Mai held up her hand. “You prattle like a Sectoid! Who is this ‘Goldilocks’?”
Malinalli seemed to smile knowingly. “I could tell you, but it would be much easier to just...show you.”
Kon-Mai bared her teeth, but it was half-hearted. “...I will need garments.”
“You can borrow mine…wait…”
Kon-Mai raised a brow.
“I guess you can’t. Um...gimme one second!”
.
.
Kon-Mai stared at herself in the mirror of the tiny bathroom. She towered over the sink and had to look down in order to see her reflection, but even at that angle she noticed how ragged she looked. The battle had taken more from her than she’d thought it had. Aside from her main, self-inflicted injury, she was dotted with tiny bullet wounds that had bruised as they healed, leaving her peppered with indigo dots.
She reached up behind her head and ran her hand through her...her hair. Her long, white hair. She had not worn it down since...she couldn’t remember when. She remembered being issued her clasps, the tubs with which her hair had hidden behind. She remembered the circlet fitting around her skull, the priests clasping it in place and then drilling-
She ran her fingers along the slight scars along the sides and top of her head: they looked uneven. She supposed the doctors must have removed her circlet? If they’d removed her chip, they must have had to. Now, her white hair breathed again: her eldest brother’s hair was soft and radiant, almost glowing. Hers, in perfect contrast, was knotted, kinky and so very oily from years being neglected, only taken from the tube every few months to be cut down and scrubbed raw. She shook her head, the while curls bouncing around her shoulders, and ran her fingers through it. It only grew from the back of her head and down her neckline to the nape. There already wasn’t much of it, and the way it stuck together made her look as bald as The Hunter. No wonder he wore a hood, it was not a good look on either of them.
Following her scarred hairline, she reached back and felt along the thick scar where her chip used to be. She no longer heard the Elders’ voices, and they could not read her thoughts. To them, she must have been presumed dead. She had expected the emptiness in her mind to be stifling, but for perhaps the first time in her life, she had been sleeping peacefully at night.
Kon-Mai reached into the shower and turned it on. She was the Assassin, and if she was going to present herself to the enemy, it was on her to make sure she looked presentable.
She pulled off her gown and stared at herself, at her scar, running jagged along her belly. Her dagger had cut so deep; so many torn muscles and arteries, so many split tendons, she had nearly felt her soul leave her body when she drove the blade into her ribs. The fact that the Commander not only saved her life, had brought her back to near perfect health…
She was supposed to die there.
That woman was hiding something.
Kon-Mai stepped under the hot water, shivering at the sensation. She didn’t remember this kind of warmth. Her baths had always been cold, and she herself was always...cold.
She hugged herself and just stood there for a moment, feeling the water run over her body.
Then she reached for the shampoo. If she went to all this trouble to take her hair down, she might as well wash it.
.
.
She put her hair into a single braid when she stepped out, not wanting to encase it while it was wet. With that, Kon-Mai dried herself off and reached for the clothes Malinalli had brought her.
They were small, of course. That was to be expected, no one here was even close to her size. The pants she was given were more like shorts, stopping just below her knees and hugging her body where Kon-Mai was pretty sure they were supposed to hang loose. The shirt was a flowy dress that on a human would come down to the knees. On her, it almost reached her waist and hugged her lady-lumps a bit more than she would have preferred. It had no sleeves, leaving her arms exposed. She looked over the glowing veins and…
Shook her head.
There were no shoes that fit her, of course, so she walked barefoot into the infirmary, the cold metal floor biting the soles of her feet. Malinalli was waiting for her, and beamed when she saw her. “You look so pretty! And your hair! I didn’t realize you…” She trailed off.
“I do indeed have hair.” The Assassin glowered. “I simply can’t leave it flying like my brother can.”
“No, no, I totally get it.” Despite her dark complexion, Kon-Mai could see Malinalli blushing. “I have to keep my hair back during work so I understand….”
Kon-Mai said nothing, barely meeting her gaze. “Let us get on with it then.”
“Yeah.” Malinalli held out her hand but Kon-Mai shook her head.
“I can walk perfectly fine, if you lead the way.”
“Okay...the canteen is this way.” She opened the door and held it. “After you.”
Kon-Mai had to duck slightly under the doorframe. Perhaps it was a good thing she was barefoot, she could only imagine the trouble she’d have wearing something akin to heels.
Despite the insistence on her independence, every step Kon-Mai took sent a shot of pain up her legs and into her chest. She clenched her fists, biting her lip and willing herself to keep a steady pace with the small human woman. Thank goodness she was walking slowly.
The canteen was, thankfully, close by. They rounded a corner and the metal shifted to dark, polished wood. The bar was much darker, lit with mood lighting and candles, and Kon-Mai could feel her muscles relaxing in the calm environment.
Until she heard the yelling.
“I TOLD YOU!” A distinctly British voice cried. “WE ARE NOT USING THE ZED WORD!”
“Why not?” Resounded another woman’s voice, without the noticeable accent. If Kon-Mai had to guess, she’d say this one was American.
“Because it’s RUDE!”
“Rude to who, the zombies? They don’t fucking care!”
Kon-Mai heard Malinalli sigh audibly, and she looked over to the source of the nose, where two human women sat at a booth.
“It’s the principle of the matter!” The British one said.
“There is no ‘principle’ to this matter.” The other one began counting on her fingers. “They walk like zombies, they’re half-rotten, they eat brains, they talk in weird growls, they are zombies, so I will call them zombies!”
“They still have human rights!”
“NO THEY DON’T! And neither do we, Princess! Have you forgotten the world ended?!”
Kon-Mai approached the table, and the shadow she cast over it made the two women stop and look up at her.
“Guys!” Malinalli called. “Meet Kon-Mai!”
“Oh!” The British woman, a girl in her youth with short purple hair, perked up. “Oh yes! We’ve been absolutely dying to meet you!” She jumped up, and Kon-Mai noticed that clasped in her hair was a little tiara. “Lady Demetria Min of the British Isles!”
“Don’t believe anything she says.” The other woman piped up. “You’re not an actual Lady, Princess.”
“Shut up.” Princess snapped.
The other woman looked significantly older, with wrinkles and scars carved in her dark ebony skin, but the bright red hair she sported gave her a youthful demeanor.
“Kon-Mai, this is Zuri Temitope.” Malinalli gestured to the woman.
“I prefer Tisiphone.” The woman smiled, looking the Chosen up and down. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but you...certainly live up to the hype.”
Kon-Mai nodded in thanks, but remained silent.
Tisiphone turned to Malinalli. “Hm. She’s quiet. I like her already.”
Princess pouted. “Well, come on! Sit with us, don’t just stand there!” Kon-Mai yelped as Princess pulled her into the seat beside her.
“Maybe she can finish this debate for us.” Tisiphone said as she sat back down. “So. I say that the Lost should just be called ‘zombies’.”
“And I say that it’s rude to call them the zed word, and ‘The Lost’ is more politically correct!” Princess countered, her tone rising.
“I’m not fucking worried about hurting the zombies feelings, Princess.”
“It’s not about feelings, it’s about what’s right!”
“What do you mean what’s right? Our job is to mow them down like grass!” Tisiphone turned to Kon-Mai. “But what do you think? Your perspective is probably a lot different.”
“Yes. Tell her I’m right.”
“Shut your goddamn mouth, Princess.”
Kon-Mai blinked as the two women finally fell silent, staring at her expectantly.
“I believe it was one of your kind that said, ‘a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.’” Kon-Mai said slowly. “What you call them does not matter, or change what they are. As long as you can do what must be done and eliminate them.”
“Oh fuck off.” Tisiphone said. “That’s a non-answer. You gotta pick a side.”
“Guys, come on, she said her piece.” Malinalli cut in. “Don’t badger her.”
“Why do you object to their current title?” Kon-Mai asked Tisiphone.
“It sounds like some sci-fi fantasy bullshit. Zombies have been part of human mythologies for centuries and everyone knows the term. Calling them ‘The Lost’ is just needlessly complicated.”
“Of course it is!” Princess cut in. “Everything is complicated right now, Tisiphone! But we have it so much easier compared to them, the way they’re suffering. Even if I gotta put them down, I don’t wanna forget that they are human, just like us.”
There was a brief silence, in which Kon-Mai’s eyes drifted to the hallway and she, unfortunately, locked eyes with a familiar Skirmisher woman.
“Betos.” She hissed, and hid her face with her hand, but it was too late. The conversation died at the sound of combat boots clomping their way towards the group.
“The Commander instructed me to fetch you.” Betos’ gravelly voice sounded too close for her comfort.
Kon-Mai looked up briefly, again catching Betos’ narrowed, yellow eyes.
“I did not expect to see you here.” she said as she stood, Princess helping her to her feet.
“My soldiers are here, and thus so am I.” Betos turned to Malinalli. “You are dismissed.”
Malinalli stammered. “I need to return the patient to-”
“When the Commander is done, she will page you.” Betos said firmly. “You are dismissed. Go back to your post.”
Malinalli looked warily to Kon-Mai, who gave her a nod.
“...Understood.” Malinalli mumbled as she left.
“It was nice meeting you!” Princess called after Kon-Mai. “Come back sometime, alright?!”
Kon-Mai did not answer her.
.
.
Betos’ pace was much faster than her human nurse’s, and despite her best efforts, Kon-Mai found herself falling behind. She dared not call out, but she saw Betos getting farther and farther away and knew if she didn’t, she’d get left behind on this damned ship.
Luckily for her, Betos stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face her, her yellow eyes glowing in the low light.
Kon-Mai bared her teeth. “This was your plan, then? Lead me away, so I would be helpless, and then strike me down?” She nodded. “A devious trick, but it has worked. If you wish to kill me, now is your time.”
“Believe me, if I wanted to, you would already be dead by now. Dead and rotting in your stronghold, where your poor brothers would find the broken body of their little sister, and they would know that your life was taken by your own hands...” Betos shook her head. “But no. No, it’s not enough. Killing you, it wouldn’t be enough.”
Kon-Mai’s goading smile fell, and she felt a chill run up her spine. “What?”
“If you died, that would be it. You might feel a moment of pain and in the end, you might even beg for repentance. But…” She smiled. “No. I began this journey not so different from you. Mox has killed more than you, lest we forget.” ”Do not remind me of that.” ”I will. You are not the monster you want yourself to be. And I want you to look upon that truth, and swallow it like medicine. I want you to renounce your precious Elders and become exactly what you swore to destroy, to live like us, to truly feel.”
“I did feel, once. You saw it yourself, Betos. And yet you did not seem to care so much then.” Kon-Mai blinked violently, hot tears in her eyes. “...Do not be so sure that anything will happen.”
“We’ll see.” Betos turned her back to her. “It’s why the Commander wants to meet with you.” She continued her pace, and Kon-Mai limped along, trying to catch up.
Thankfully, it was only a few more feet down the hallway that they stopped at a single metal door, upon which Betos knocked. “Commander, I have her.”
The door opened, and Kon-Mai froze.
The woman stood up, her long white hair flowing like it had its own wind current around it. She walked slowly around to the front of her desk and locked eyes with the Assassin, those green eyes glowing with warmth and light and calm. She radiated with ethereal beauty.
“Welcome, Kon-Mai Mordenna.” The woman said. “I am Commander Senuna of XCOM. I’ve been so looking forward to our meeting.”
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(God I’ve been looking forward to this. I’ve decided I’m going to post a new chapter once a week on Saturdays, but I already have five or so written so waiting to post this has been torture.
Now that it’s out, I hope you all enjoy!
Also extra credit to the people who catch the “Shawn of the Dead” reference.)
#xcom#xcom 2#xcom 2 war of the chosen#xcom2#xcom assassin#xcom soldiers#xcom oc#xcom commander#commander#senuna#kon-mai mordenna#xcom bradford#john bradford
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Poppies & Sunflowers; A MiriTama Soulmate AU
Chapter Two
Pairings: Mirio Togata x Tamaki Amajiki
Warnings: Fluff, more happy love hours here friends
Art: Artwork by @daddyschlongleg - Permission to use this artwork was granted by the original artist.
A/N: Guys! Chapter two is here! Thank you all so much for the positive feedback on the last chapter, we really appreciate it! Remember that Mirio is written by @montressor and be sure to go and give them some love too! Feel free to reblog and leave all the comments you’d like, we love reading them! Enjoy! 💕 Find the information and masterlist for this fic here!
Mirio had no idea how touch starved he was until Tamaki’s slender fingers caressed his cheek. When was the last time he had felt someone else even hug him? It made the bright blue eyes nearly shine, from the tears and the joy radiating from his own soul.
There were a few spectators and now that he had names exchanged; Tamaki, how sweet. Mirio gives a quick glance around as if to study a way for them to escape. There was no way he could focus on anything but Tamaki - which made more of those pretty yellow flowers come up from the other’s skin. It made him giddy, made him want to bounce and cheer. But also calm and focused.
Reaching to his scarred arm, Mirio plucks one of his own flowers off, surprised that it didn’t hurt. After all, he had never felt this before. With a careful consideration of being respectful of the others space he tucks it behind one of his long ears. “I can’t believe how lucky I am.”
Tamaki took this time to look down at himself, seeing the sunflowers that covered him. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth as Mirio tucks one of his own flowers behind his pointed ears and smiles.
“I-I’m the lucky one,” Tamaki insists, looking toward the ground. A question was tugging at the back of his mind, and his feet shuffled against the petals on the ground as he became aware of some onlookers. “Hey, it doesn’t...it doesn’t bother you that I’m...”
Tamaki can’t get the question out. Obviously it doesn’t bother Mirio that Tamaki is a man, but he didn’t want him to be disappointed. Some people dream about having their own biological family, and that clearly wasn’t possible with who the universe had chosen to put together in this situation. He just hoped that Mirio hadn’t gotten his hopes up too high when he imagined his soulmate.
“Bother me that what?” Now, he was surprised. Maybe it was the fact that Mirio knew he was gay when he was younger that the questioning was falling on some confusion. If he had found a woman as a soulmate... he knew it would have been platonic only. This.. this was exactly who he wanted. “Wait.. do you mean... Oh, no. Not bothered at all. You’re everything I could have dreamed of.”
An audible sigh of relief left Tamaki’s lips as Mirio assured him that he wasn’t put off in the slightest. The flowers that continued to bloom on his pale skin were a reminder of just how true that fact was. The one thing he was focusing on the most was Mirio and how genuinely happy he felt, for the first time in a long time.
Hands start to run up and down Tamaki’s arms in a manner of protection, soft caresses to show Mirio wasn’t going anywhere. “I think.. We should get out of here for now. Find a place to talk?”
If they could share a drink or a meal, just some time together to really settle and start getting to know one another.. Mirio knows it’s going to be the best day of his life so far.
Indigo eyes followed Mirio’s gaze, becoming fully aware now of all the people that were watching and pointing. None of it was malicious, they were all happy for the two of them, but still. It was more eyes on Tamaki than he’d like.
His eyes immediately dipped back to the floor and he gripped onto Mirio’s large bicep as a form of support, the world around the two of them spinning a bit. The warmth and gentleness of the hands on his arms were all that was keeping him grounded in that moment.
He finally manages a nod, eyes flickering halfway up to Mirio’s face before he spoke again, his voice uneven and shaky. “Y-Yeah, getting out of here sounds good.” The longer he was in his presence and being calmed by Mirio rubbing his smaller, but still slightly muscular arms the better he felt.
Eye contact was made once again, Tamaki still gripping his arm for dear life. “I’ll go anywhere with you, Mirio.”
It seemed Tamaki was a nervous type, someone who would usually be hidden in the corners of assemblies while Mirio was the type to stand in front of crowds. It didn’t bother him. Mirio honestly found it endearing and even made his heart beat quicker as if wanting to support the other with sincerest need. “Come on then. Tamaki.” He loved saying that name.
The way his name sounded coming from Mirio’s lips was heaven, causing quite a few more poppies to make their appearance on the taller man. Tamaki was definitely on the verge of a meltdown, but hearing his name and feeling that large hand encompass his own...it was just enough to pull him out of it.
Blue eyes meet Tamaki’s and it’s like a lump formed in his throat - all these new sensations Mirio had never thought to have. Was this what everyone felt like when they encountered their soulmate? Gently and assuredly Mirio slips his hand against the ones gripping onto his bicep and starts leading the other down the hallway.
He still feels the poppies sprouting against his skin and he wondered how he must look - but knows if it’s anything like how Tamaki looked with those bright sunflowers, he would look charming. Out of the hall, down to the front entrance.. Mirio doesn’t even bother to look back, because what he wants is to take Tamaki somewhere the nervous man could be settled and calm.
Tamaki’s watery eyes were on the floor as they walked. On the floor, or locked on the sunflowers that covered his body. He chances a glance upwards, and when he does his heart swells in his chest. Mirio looks proud as he pulls Tamaki along through the halls. Chin up, a huge smile on his face, commanding when he walks.
“This.. isn’t how I expected my day to go.” Blue eyes cast down to observe, smile still remained and likely unable to break. The tears had stopped and he felt the cool breeze hit his cheeks as they stepped outside. “It’s far better than I expected. So much better.. I didn’t know if I’d.. find someone! Let alone someone at UA.”
Fingers tighten on Tamaki’s own. As if he would always be willing to hold them, to steady them, to give him the needed grounding point to calm any sort of ailments.
They couldn’t be more different, but the anxious man found comfort in Mirio’s confidence. Tamaki picked his head up, looking straight ahead, and dropped the arm that was digging crescent marks into his own arm to his side. There was a light blush on his cheeks, but a small smile crept its way there as well.
In the sunlight, Mirio feels as though he can really get a perfect look at Tamaki and even pauses in their stroll to do so. The flowers across their bodies seemed to revel in the light and the blonde could understand why. The sun brought life... and in this case, so did love.
Was it already love?
“Me either,” Tamaki agreed, nodding his head and squinting in the bright sunshine that seemed to surround him. Mirio was radiant in and of himself, and Tamaki felt himself returning the tight, reassuring grip that was placed on his hand. “I never thought I would. It was...tough. My parents were always worried,” he thought, shaking his head and looking at the ground before his eyes lit up in realization.
“My parents! Oh, I need to call them and tell them later. They’re going to be so relieved.” His eyes trail back upward to Mirio’s looking at his beauty in the natural light. “What...what did you want to do, Mirio?”
Flush is brought to Mirio’s cheeks as he looks over Tamaki’s face, letting the mental image of him imbed into his mindset. There was such... perfection in his face, how his eyes were narrowed and dark, his hair deep but in the light... looked as if to carry its own halo. Smitten. Mirio was smitten. More sunflowers sprouted and he reached out to brush the petals of one against Tamaki’s neck. “My Dad knew I was going to find someone, but I was ready to accept it wasn’t going to happen..”
There’s tons of questions he’s ready to ask, about the other’s family and friends. What he was going to school for. If he wanted to be a hero like him. But they had time now, and the strong blonde wanted to make sure the other was calmer than before.
He watched as Mirio blushed, felt the extra sunflowers coming to life on the surface of his skin. It was enough to make Tamaki’s perpetually blushing face blush even further, admiring the god-like man that was now his soulmate. It almost didn’t seem real.
When Tamaki had imagined a soulmate, when he was younger and still had hope for one, he had imagined someone kind, caring, preferably bigger than him, and it seemed at this moment that all of his requests to the universe had been heard and granted.
“Let’s go find a nice noodle shop for lunch. My treat. It’ll be our first date.” Maybe not jump to that so quickly. Slightly embarrassed, free hand comes upwards to rub at the back of his head. “If that’s ok. I know a really good one not far from here. It’ll be quiet too.”
He’s already walking again, but would easily change direction if Tamaki wanted.
He nodded in response to the noodle shop, squeezing Mirio’s larger hand with a smile. “That sounds good. A first date...” he near whispered the last part more to himself than anyone else. He was still in a slight state of disbelief, but there were many things to remind him that this was very real.
Date! Mirio had suggested it, but Tamaki confirming it just made the taller of the two want to skip ahead, to dance, to laugh. All he does is grin, eyes closing for a second as if he needs to see if this was a dream.
But it was real. And he had his soulmate locked on his arm and hand in his own. With so much to think on he locks onto the way Tamaki spoke. Soft. Tentatively. When he had been younger all he wanted from his soulmate was someone who would accept, would care, would be the person he could bring all sincerity and sadness to. Which was why the idea of unloading all his sad memories seemed ok to do.
Withholding it for now, he doesn’t mention the nights he laid in bed, alone, wishing to have a flower bloom on his arm. To see his friends get gardens across their skin and he left with just scarred arms with no beauty to find.
Mirio’s hand against his, the flowers blooming on both of their skin...it was all there to prove and remind Tamaki that he was loved. Love, right? He looked back up toward Mirio, letting the question die in his throat. It was too soon for all of that, wasn’t it?
“I had already accepted it,” Tamaki continued their conversation from earlier as they walked, the idea of the classes they were missing far from his mind. “I mean, I hadn’t accepted it to the point that it didn’t bother me, but I was almost certain I wouldn’t ever find you.” His grip tightens around Mirio’s fingers at this, almost ashamed that he’d given up looking for him.
“But look at us now.” Mirio tears his gaze away to study a poppy on the back of his hand, feeling like he may cry again. “And these... these are like, part of us, aren’t they? These are so beautiful. I think you are more so, but I like these just the same...”
Every time Mirio spoke it was the best sound he’d ever heard. The farther they trailed from the watchful eyes of their classmates the more and more Tamaki smiled. He knew it was something he’d have to get over, especially if he wanted to become a hero, but for now it was just a part of him.
He watches as Mirio inspects one of his poppies and feels his heart swell at the praise before realizing that it was redirected onto himself. Blushing to the very tips of his ears, he reaches his free hand up to tug on one of them.
Laughing softly, Mirio knows the flirt was likely a bit corny. He had no experience with this sort of thing after all. “But I uh... I guess that’s one of the things which make us perfect for each other. We have the same thoughts.”
The praise is new. Tamaki was odd looking, he knew that. People didn’t call him Flea for no reason. “Y-You’re beautiful too,” he managed to get out, staring at his feet and the sunflowers on his body as they shuffled along.
“Perfect. Radiant...” he trailed off, lost in the praise he was showering Mirio. He was sure more poppies were making an appearance as he talked, his mind running rampant with images of his soulmate.
His mind travels back to that laugh, and in that moment Tamaki decides that he will do anything in his power to hear that laugh as often as he can. It warms him from the inside out and he smiles, leaning his head against Mirio’s arm as they walk. “Yeah, perfect for each other.”
Like goosebumps. That’s what Mirio came to some resolution on, the sensation of the flowers continuing to grow, fall, leaving small trails of white and yellow behind the pair as they walked. Goosebumps like when your body gives a shiver, or when there’s something particularly sensational on your mind.
Another aspect of how different they were, Mirio had been praised before by some who wished he was their soulmate. But it never mattered before, it never felt like a genuine compliment until he heard Tamaki’s soft voice say it. And boy did he blush even more.
“I.. thank you. Wow.” Airy laugh comes again, muddled with the sincerity of the moment. Fingers rub at his cheeks as if he could wipe away the red tint. “I need to work on better complements if you’re going to keep me blushing like this!”
Tamaki’s eyes drift upward again, looking at the familiar color dusted across Mirio’s cheeks. It stirs an odd sense of pride inside of him, that for once *he* was the one causing someone else to blush.
Blue eyes glance forward, knowing they’d be approaching the noodle shop shortly. “Maybe I should ask first uh.. I’m not bothered at all, but are you disappointed at all? Maybe I’m not as handsome.. I’m not really wealthy either, despite me offering you lunch!”
Doubt. That’s what he was hearing from Mirio, doubt in his own looks, just in himself in general. Tamaki stopped walking, Mirio continuing on until Tamaki pulled him to a stop as well. He was quiet for a moment, just staring up at those blue eyes.
Mirio feels the other against his arm, his heart starting to race again. He’s never had someone touch him like this, not as soft and assured. It was completely warping his ability to speak as much as he may have, if only from the soft shock.
“Mirio, don’t do that. You’re...you’re amazing. You’re handsome and kind and...and I don’t care about any of that stuff. Even if you weren’t handsome I wouldn’t care. I don’t care about your money. I...” Tamaki cut himself off, getting slightly emotional as he talked, watching the poppies spill from Mirio.
Instead, he walked into the other man again, wrapping his arms around his torso and breathing in his scent. “You’re perfect. You’re more than what I imagined, more than I could have ever asked for. So please, don’t doubt yourself.”
When he’s forced to stop mid-walk by Tamaki, Mirio takes a second to watch him speak. Assurance. That was clear. Respect. He was given it. All at once the blonde felt that same skip of heartbeat and swallowed down the urge to blur out how much he already loved this other man.
Because that was absurd, wasn’t it? “You.. ok. If you say so, Tamaki. I believe you and I trust you.” Softly he wraps his arms around the smaller, muscles tightening as if he can hold the other in this place forever. Head leans downwards so he can nuzzle cheek to cheek, glad he wasn’t crying anymore if only to save them both from a wet mess.
Tamaki remained there, wrapped around Mirio. His face buried in the other’s shirt, just enjoying being held by and touching someone else. He had no clue when he had done this last, but he was sure it was probably a hug from his mom or something of the sort.
“Thank you.” He adds in as a breath, lips turned to press ever so slightly against the cheek he was so close to. A faint, hint of a kiss. Just enough to slate the desire to do more. They had time, they had so much to talk about. And now Mirio had the confidence to do so.
#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha fic#mha fic#boku no hero academia fic#my hero academia fic#miritama#mirio x tamaki#mirio togata x tamaki amajiki#bnha lemon#mha lemon#boku no hero academia lemon#my hero academia lemon#miritama lemon#mirio x tamaki lemon#miritama fic#poppies & sunflowers#mirio togata#tamaki amajiki
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hi em how are you? i've been dying to get your opinion on the lover album, if you have the time/interest :)
hi i’m good!!! i’m real good my mom’s doctor gave us really good news yesterday so i’m cruising on good vibes rn and yeah i’m great!!!
literally i have been DYING to unload my thoughts on lover since 3 seconds after it came out omg????? i had a deeply intense discussion with my roommate last night about each song on the album and what it specifically means to us so like this is Peak Talking Opportunity For Me which as a messy hoe i honestly love
i’m putting it under the cut though bc i do not want to be Obnoxious
okay first and foremost, i forgot that you existed? DEEPLY iconic. my roommate doesn’t like this one as much as some of the others on the album but it’s def top 3 for me. like, everything about it is so perfect - the message the song sends is one of hope for people who are kind of hopelessly tangled up in drama at the moment (i.e. don’t worry, soon enough you’re going to wake up one day and forget that all of those people even exist (which is HELLA true)) but like!!! even the music she wrote with the song kind of supports the message!! my roommate’s biggest complaint with that song is that she feels like the music needs to Build and Go Places more than it does, but like........god the whole point of the song is that it’s written to a person taylor’s indifferent toward, shouldn’t the music seem a little indifferent too?? like yes there’s joy and it does build and it does move but if it DID get super dramatic it would actually contradict the message of the song so like??? it’s??? perfect??? and i have scream-singed it in my car a million times already thank u for asking
i’ll be honest, cruel summer doesn’t do as much for me as some of the other songs on the album,,,,,i mean i like it and i can DEF sing along to it and the line “i love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard” is such a mood. it’s the first song on the album that i was like oh she probably started writing that (or at least getting the idea to write it) the summer every angry mob in america was calling for her head bc like there’s definitely a sense of self-deprecation/preservation in some of the lyrics. idk it strikes me as a song about how terrifying vulnerability is especially in the face of such public and global hatred directed toward you
LOVER. lover. lllllllover oh my god i love lover which i was not prepared to do since that word seriously bums me out 100% of the time but it’s so sweet??? so sweet and honest and like. what i thought love was when i was a kid?? just finding that other person and being like “oh, you’re like....you’re IT” and like HA wouldn’t it be grand to be in love?? also the brIDGE??? THE BRIDGE!!!!! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WILL YOU PLEASE STAND!!! WITH EVERY GUITAR STRING SCAR ON MY HAND!!! I TAKE THIS MAGNETIC FORCE OF A MAN TO BE MY LOVERRRRRR!!!! MY HEART’S BEEN BORROWED AND YOUR’S HAS BEEN BLUE!!! ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL TO END UP WITH YOU!!! SWEAR TO BE OVER-DRAMATIC A N D T R U E TO MY LOVERRRRR!!!! and oh man i wanna be in love anyways moving on
the man honestly took me a few tries to like but i definitely have a healthy amount of respect for it now. like idk it felt a little out of place at first given that this whole album is supposed to be about love and that song is,,,,,,not (at first glance) but the more i listen to it the more i realize that it sort of is in a way? like she’s been painted as this serial dater since day one when in reality her dating history isn’t really that sordid?? just extremely public. and in listening to the lyrics it sort of dawned on me that her frustration with the way society treats women stems from that reputation (ha) that was forced on her and the way that reputation colored every other interaction she’s ever had with popular culture. like every microinteraction i’ve heard about involving her has been overwhelmingly positive but then you look at media as a whole and they make her out to be this entirely different person and part of u has to wonder if it would even be an issue if you took all the same behaviors, dating history, microinteractions etc. and applied them to an equally famous man. and the answer is no it would not be an issue
the archer made me cry the first time i heard it and it still kind of strikes me at my core a lot if i don’t distract myself with other things while it’s on? like sitting down and actually listening to the words is. tough bc i relate to it a lot and not in the fun scream-sing in the car way that i relate to i forgot that you existed. that song actually makes me really uncomfortable with who i am bc like god!!!!! i have been the archer!!!! i have been the prey!!!! i don’t understand why people have left me and i REALLY don’t understand why people stay!!!!! in all seriousness though it goes back to that struggling with vulnerability thing - by being vulnerable you’re opening up the scariest, rawest parts of yourself to other people and risking being rejected for those scary raw parts. it’s a song about struggling between building those walls up to protect yourself or risking getting hurt for the sake of love - and lucky for her she seems to have found someone who has seen the scary raw stuff in her life and has decided that he wants to stay
i think he knows is the song both me and my roommate bump in our cars whenever we go places together because it’s SO FUN i don’t even know what else to say other than i cry laughing every time my roommate tries to sing “lyrical smile indigo eyes hand on my thigh we can follow the sparks i’ll drive” bc it’s SUCH a tongue-twister for her it’s fhaldskfhadslfkj FUNNY
miss americana & the heartbreak prince is another one that i was kind of so-so about at first but the more i listen to it the more i love it?? it’s so Dramatique in the best way like it makes me feel like i’m watching a movie preview about a dystopian high school in slow motion and honestly i LOVE it
my roommate’s favorite song on the whole album is paper rings and i love it too honestly it’s another one we bump in the car bc it’s SUPER fun to sing with other people lmfao she described it as “the song you hear in a preview for a romcom set in new york city” and i was like YEAH THAT’S ACCURATE but what’s really funny is that?? that’s probably?? exactly?? what it is?? anyways
i’m kind of...meh...about cornelia street yikes i’ve read people talking about how good it is and i’m trying to like it but it’s just,,,,i mean it’s not bad not by any stretch of the imagination but personally i like other songs on the album more hfaldskfjs
death by a thousand cuts!!!!!! that’s my roommate’s other favorite song lmao!!! again the more i listen to it the more i like it but i def like others on the album more at this point
i had london boy stuck in my head all day yesterday it’s so funny god i know a lot of people who live in and around london have some issues with it which is FINE i won’t pretend like i know anything about it but i think it’s cute LMAO
i can’t listen to soon you’ll get better without legit ugly crying (like we’re talking full on sobbing) just because of everything going on with my own mom right now so maybe in a year or two when things have cleared a little for her i might be able to listen to it again but rn i’ve only listened to it all the way through once
honestly i don’t really like false god that much and i can’t really identify why it’s just,,,,fhasdlfk
you need to calm down is just a straight up bop that i sing in the shower a lot and i know it was controversial esp after the music video came out but like. on a base level the song is just fun
afterglow is one of my other top three on the album,,,,,,,,bc again,,,,,,,,,,relatable,,,,,,,like realizing that she’s safe with this person after kind of instinctively flying off the handle,,,,,,,god. idk i’ve heard a lot of apology songs in the past but this one kind of strikes me bc like,,,,idk she takes full responsibility for it rather than trying to justify it with the conditions that beat that kind of behavior into her over the last few years. she’s taking responsibility for her actions, she’s apologizing, she’s asking him to stay, and at the same time she’s pointing out that she’s human and will probably make similar mistakes in the future and idk that’s just reassuring? bc i’m also human and i also make really big dumb mistakes that hurt other people in the name of self-preservation and i can only hope that someday i’ll meet someone who will stick around anyways
me! is a bop as well it’s massively overplayed at this point and i kind of skip it when i’m listening by myself but my roommate and i scream-sing that one too LMFAO
it’s nice to have a friend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this really is what i thought love would be when i was in like 3rd grade and just becoming aware of it as a concept!!!!!!!! there was a little boy who lived next door and we were best friends growing up and there was never any romantic aspect to our friendship (that i am aware of) but we used to play outside together all the time and it was sweet and simple and secure and that’s the way that song makes me feel!!! also i read that every single instrument/vocal performance on that song (outside of taylor herself) was done by a children’s music group which just adds to the childlike sweetness of the song and gah it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside
daylight,,,,,,,,,,,,,that’s my number 1 y’all i freaking LOVE daylight holy HELL i can’t wait to make my other roommate play/sing it with me at our house show next month??? god it’s just. it’s so indicative of where she’s been, the hell she’s been through both internally- and externally-imposed, and how it makes this moment she now gets to have with the person she loves that much sweeter?? i don’t know i feel like my heart is going to explode every time i hear it and i’m not even remotely close to being in love so i can’t imagine how much deeper it’ll hit if/when i ever do fall in love again and
god i just
i really like lover as an album a WHOLE lot
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Rain
Word Count: 2,148
Warnings: N/A
My Shance Secret Santa Gift for @chrysonoe. I hope you enjoy it! <3
(Also! Sorry for the late uplaod :3 it’s still the 25th where I am, but I’ve haven’t had time to reveal until now!)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/17167898
________________
Lance dreamed of rain. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for his eyes to close in his dorm on the IGF-Atlas, and to open to his old bedroom, rain streaming down the glass window. In fact, he observed that the dream repeated too many times for comfort. A lot of memories came with the recurring dream. The smell of rain against dry dirt, sweet and clear amongst the billowing grey of the clouds in the sky. The gentle patter of raindrops rolling down glass. Scrambling to grab a light raincoat and slip outside. The warm air venting through the hallways, accented with the smell of cooking. He always felt warm and safe in the dream. And in a way, that was the worst part. Because he’d wake up back in the Atlas. There was no large window by his bed. No comfortable mattress and oversized covers. And, most of all, no rain. The weight of his responsibilities sat on his chest from the moment his eyes opened, as if he was aware of the stakes every single waking hour. And the stakes, he knew, were quite high. The fight with the robeast took a lot out of the Voltron team, and not just energy wise. Being drained of quintessence was no walk in the park. Pidge had retreated to her dorm for what seemed like a week, only coming out once at lunch to stockpile on snacks, with tousled caramel hair and bags under hazel eyes. She’d only give one word answers to questions, with an occasional glare or mumble. Her family visited a lot, which Lance figured helped a lot - they hadn’t been together in years. Understanding her inflated introversion, he and Shiro helped out by transferring her gaming set to her room. She’d only given a slight smile, and a quiet thanks, which, Lance figured, was an improvement from before. Allura recovered by putting herself to work. She’d always gotten comfort out of responsibility, which Lance figured made her such a good Princess and leader. She worked tirelessly around the ship, helping to build and repair Altean-inspired tech, and taking over at the bridge of the Atlas whenever Shiro had gotten too tired to operate. Keith was even less talkative, and more grim than before. As good a leader as he could be, and as encouraging as he tried to be despite his demeanor, Lance knew recovery would be hardest on him. He was somehow paler than before, the scar on his face further contrasted. His hair was so messy, Allura insisted on pulling it back into a ponytail to tidy him up. While Keith didn’t say anything about it, Lance knew he appreciated the gesture. Hunk, being the loving guy he was, insisted on playing games with Pidge and bringing her peanut butter cookies. Hunk, Pidge, and Lance would all do joint game nights every once in a while, enjoying the delightful earth snacks that they hadn’t been able to enjoy in what seemed like years. Hunk got comfort from cooking, and lifting other people up with it. When morale was low, Hunk was just the remedy. Or, his food, as he insisted. His family was also a godsend. The Garett family were cooking fiends, whipping up enough food to feed an entire population. Once, Hunk’s mom brought Lance some garlic knots. Lance couldn’t quite remember, but he was pretty sure he cried. Lance himself spent as much time as possible with his family, hugging his parents too many times to count and worrying about his sisters enough that Veronica threatened, affectionately, to throw him from the bridge of the Atlas. Which, in an odd way, gave Lance comfort that not much had changed. The one unbearable part of his sister, Rachel, was that she claimed to be older than him. Which was completely unfair, as Lance had been catapulted forward in time. Her argument, in his eyes, was invalid. However, despite his recovery, he’d found it harder and harder to sleep. He’d always dream of rain. Every time he did, he’d wake up earlier, as if wanting to shake off his own pain. Lance had always known nostalgia, and even called it a friend, but remembering rain was so much worse. It was a twisted nostalgia, that had his heart in a vice grip. And so, he stopped being able to sleep altogether. He sighed, opening his eyes once again to the bland wall of the Atlas. He’d never actually fallen asleep, but he’d tried to. He was so tired that day, that he’d managed to put his pizza in the dishwasher instead of the microwave. Which was a new low, even for him. He remembered Allura’s and Hunk’s confused and worried looks, snapping him out of his stuper with questions. But even when he was too tired to function, he couldn’t fall asleep. Even though he needed it, he dreaded dreaming of rain. So, he sat up, stretching his aching arms above his body. He gave a groan as his sore muscles protested at the movement, aching still from the quintessence drain. He stood in the dark, reaching out his hand to trace the wall to a light switch. As warm light filled box room, he blinked the cloudy figures from his eyes, letting out a breath and lumbering over to the door. He’d had yet to wander the ship while everyone else was sleeping, so it was like a little adventure. As soon as the door opened, and he turned down the hallway, he gave a slight wince. It was kind of eerie, but peaceful as well. Platinum walls were lined with orange accents, the floor detailed stone. Small windows lined the hall, moonlight softly spilling in and illuminated the grays a light blue. The hallway continued until it ended a distance away, a black square amongst intersections with other hallways. Lance wasn’t too concerned, though. He knew exactly where he was going. He walked mindlessly among the halls, at peace as he observed the ship in a new, peaceful light. Without the bustle of garrison crews and cadets, the ship seemed like a palace, mysterious and extensive. Lance quite liked the change of tone. He wandered from hall to hall, memory guiding him to the bridge. The bridge had the largest window in the entire ship. And Lance wanted nothing more than to look at the sky, and imagine he was looking at it from his bedroom window. What he didn’t expect though, was that someone would be seated on the floor in front of the window. The moonlight illuminated the figure’s white hair, their shadow stretching across the length of the bridge. Their arm separated from their body, a soft blue glow emanating from the shoulder. Shiro. Right. Shiro. While Shiro hadn’t had his quintessence drained with Voltron, he’d worked just as hard, or harder than anyone. He never stopped helping out. Even when he wan’t giving orders on the bridge and directing repairs to the Atlas, he’d be on the ground, helping refugee families who had come in during the Galra’s occupation of Earth. Despite the determination in his steel grey eyes, or the openness when helping others, it was clear to Lance that he was draining quickly. He’d never truly recovered from… well, dying. Which Lance understood, since he had also died, that one time. God, what an odd thought. While Allura had healed both of them, Lance had been affected by his death for a very long time. He’d used to have a constant mental fog, or phantom pains. He’d shock awake at night, as if struck by the malfunctioning shield again. The emotional issues that came with death were…well, insurmountable. Lance was still weird about it sometimes. He had gotten a break. Shiro hadn’t. Which was what made Lance so worried when he spotted Shiro’s silvery floof, awake and aware on the bridge of the Atlas. “Shiro?” Lance asked, voice raspy and quiet with exaustion. Shiro visibly tensed, head turning slowly to peer at Lance, standing aimlessly in the doorway. Upon recognition, Shiro relaxed, giving a slight, yet warm smile. “Oh, Lance. It’s you. What are you doing up?” Lance shrugged and smiled in return, eyelids feeling a little heavy. “Couldn’t sleep. Is it the same for you?” Shiro just hummed and nodded, before amiably patting the ground next to him. Heart warming, Lance padded to Shiro’s side, folding down to the floor with crossed legs. They both just gazed through the window, admiring the sky. It was a haunting, dark indigo, faraway stars sparkling in the night. In a weird train of thought, Lance realized that they had probably visited some of the planets and stars they were seeing. Plateaus and plains eclipsed the dark sky with a warm, caramel brown, tumbleweeds and bushes nothing by silhouettes in the night. “How are you feeling?” Shiro asked, sounding concerned. Lance shrugged, yawning. “I’m okay. I really wanna sleep, but it’s hard. But - what about you? You’ve had a crazy week.” Shiro chuckled, almost a little bitterly. “We’ve had a crazy week. But, I’m feeling better than expected, given the circumstances.”
“You need break,” Lance informed him softly. “You’ve been working nonstop.” Shiro sighed. “I wish I could, but I can only give so much work to Allura. She’s just as drained as I am.” “You deserve rest, Takashi.” Lance could feel Shiro start a bit at the name, but turned to see an almost grateful look. “I guess you’re right, Lance. I guess it’s just hard to not… help, you know? I have responsibilities.” “You are also human,” Lance remarked. “You need sleep.” “You can pry overworking from my cold, dead hands.” Lance snorted, turning back to the sky. They sat in silence, steeping in just being with one another. Lance felt more balanced, peace thrumming through him like a subtle heartbeat. Shiro’s calm swirled around him like a light breeze, soft with the silence of the bridge. Lance couldn’t help but to turn to Shiro, soaking in his moonlit features. Titanium eyes were soft in the light, almost hopeful as he peered up as a full moon. The scar across his nose caught a glare of light, his face graced by a smile. His hair was truly metallic, a bright, dazzling white. Lance could almost feel his heart clench with affection for the man. His entire body was warm. Shiro, as if feeling his look, returned Lance’s gaze, eyes glowing. The look on his face was enough to make Lance melt. It was charged with an emotion Lance couldn’t quite interpret. For a brief second, he wondered what Shiro saw when he looked at him. Did Lance’s vibrant blue eyes shine to him, the way Shiro’s did to Lance? Looking away, he shivered at the thought, soft and vibrant emotions wandering serenely throughout his body. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Shiro shift. “Are you cold?” His voice was soft and concerned. Lance met his gaze again, smile sheepish. “It’s not that bad.” On the contrary, he felt quite warm. “Come here,” Shiro requested gently, an affectionate glint in his eyes. He opened his human arm to him, welcoming. Lance didn’t hesitate, scooting over and snuggling into Shiro’s side. He wove his right arm around Shiro’s waist, leaning a weary head against his shoulder. A strong arm wrapped around his side, pulling him in. The weight of Shiro’s forehead touched against Lance’s scalp. Lance felt like he was surrounded by a warm blanket, and he relaxed, letting out the breath that had been stuck in his lungs. Shiro let out a deep hum and rocked a bit, his voice reverberating through Lance’s body. Together, they gazed up at the stars, the sky swirling with dark navy and deep plums. The moon had rose higher in the sky, full and bright. Lance realized just how light he felt next to Shiro. Everything seemed light and content, in contrast to the darkness of the night. He felt at peace. He let out a yawn, eyelids drifting. “Do you need to go to bed?” Shiro’s voice asked, almost regretfully. “I don’t wanna move,” Lance whined, snuggling further into Shiro’s side in protest. The older man chuckled affectionately, using both arms to envelope Lance in warmth. “Okay. We can stay here a little longer.” “That sounds nice,” Lance’s voice was quiet, slurred with drowsiness.. Unable to help himself, Lance could feel himself slipping, eyes closing under the light of the sky. He felt lips against his forehead, and he smiled contentedly. The next time he opened his eyes, it was to a vibrant blue sky, laced with sunset lit, billowing clouds. And it was to watermelon plateaus, glowing with the rising sun. It was to Shiro, asleep at his shoulder, expression peaceful and loving in sleep. And, for the first time in a while, Lance awoke smiling.
#shance#shancesecretsanta2018#Lance#voltron lance#lance mcclain#vld lance#shiro#takashi shirogane#voltron takashi shirogane#vld shiro#voltron shiro
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all or some of: 10, 18, 19, 20, 25, 28, 30, 35, 36, 39, 40, 41, 42 for the ask meme =) lay all the ari facts on me
ty indigo ilu… shepardposting no limits (HOPEFULLY THE READMORE WORKS?)
10. What kind of friend is Shepard?
the “will give you shit but also go to the ends of the earth” for you type i suppose…he shows his affection thru gentle bullying. he can also be kind of genuinely an overbearing asshole at times, but he gets better with it; it takes him a while to, uh, adjust to having “friends” in the first place. he’s a dad friend if your dad is kind of a grumpy punk with a rude and morbid sense of humor
18. Share a headcanon about Shepard and their LI.
[struggling to come up with something i haven’t talked about a million times] uhhhhhh
kaidan wanted to propose with one of his dad’s old rings but he figured out it wouldn’t fit ari’s finger, so (with his mother’s blessing/assurance that his dad would have been more than happy abt it, etc) he had the gold melted down to make a new ring. in my mind it looks smth like this and yes ari totally cried a little
it also took kaidan weeks of near-misses to work up the nerve to propose even tho he Knew ari was gonna say yes, he was just really worried about getting it right. eventually he just did it on their balcony and ari got surprised and dropped his cigarette and kaidan got a cool new engagement burn scar on his arm but it was nice
19. Why did they fall for each other?
ari fell for kaidan bc he’s not just intelligent, but perceptive; he’s a realist who errs toward optimism and making the best of bad situations; he believes people can and should be better; he has a surprisingly understated sense of humor; he can keep up with ari’s teasing; ari asks him if he’s a romantic and he denies it and then gives, like, the most romantic answer in the world. he’s cute.
kaidan fell for ari bc……. he has big arm. ok but uh i think it’s because he’s, pretty practical and matter of fact and doesn’t care all that much about the social trappings that kaidan continually tortures himself with… he makes kaidan feel Seen and Understood but doesn’t make a big dramatic deal out of everything kaidan tells him, he just treats him… like a person. for someone who’s been living with & defining themselves by their issues for as long as kaidan has, it’s pretty incredible to find someone who just makes him feel like a human being again
20. What are their common interests or hobbies?
a lot of their relationship is like, meeting each other in the middle haha, but there are some things they both enjoy a lot with no caveats:
- cooking! kaidan’s a foodie and it becomes ari’s therapy hobby after me3, so it’s smth they enjoy doing together a lot. they try to do it more often if possible, but their general friday night tradition is to come home, crack open a couple beers, and cook a big meal together
- they are both outdoorsy Adventure Dads… it takes a while before ari can handle more than a walk around the park but eventually he and kaidan can go hiking again and they both rly love it. i imagine theyd be into stuff like camping, swimming, kayaking, etc too dfjnfg
25. Is there something they fight about?
well, everyone gets into arguments occasionally, but i don’t really think they fight all that often… not that they agree on everything all the time, but they’ve both gotten pretty good at talking things out and also deciding whether or not something is even worth arguing about in the first place. when you are dating someone during the apocalypse and don’t have to any time to waste those are both pretty valuable skills haha [i think the most they ever fought in their relationship was post-me3, when ari got out of the hospital and they’d both started to ‘settle in’ to their new lives but it was a bumpy adjustment and they were both going thru a lot of trauma and stress and bottling it up etc. it wasnt a great time but they worked thru it]
28. What would they like to change about the other?
it’s a double-edged sword, bc it’s part of what attracts kaidan to him as well, but sometimes kaidan really wishes ari had more a self-preservation instinct!! sometimes his tendency to charge headfirst into trouble is sexy, sometimes kaidan is tired and sad and it just gets really old
ari wishes kaidan would loosen up a little although, again, the straight-laced military thing (unfortunately) kinda does it for him. he would also take away kaidans chronic pain if he could
30. When did they realise they fell in love?
fr kaidan it was shortly after virmire and it absolutely scared the shit out of him ahaha
ari is dumb so he didn’t really realize until after horizon, which was probably a bad way to figure that out,35. Is there anything they dislike about the other?
ari appreciates how thoughtful kaidan is but sometimes it’s like… a bit… much lmao, he’s not as navel gaze-y as kaidan is so sometimes the process of having to talk everything out gets tiring. for kaidan it’s kind of the opposite, he sometimes perceives ari’s lack of forethought as a lack of care, which isn’t really true, he just works differently
on a much pettier level, ari gets annoyed that kaidan wants to sleep in all the time and kaidan gets annoyed that ari drowns all his food in hot sauce. hello, i worked hard on that steak36. What are their best memories together?
advtykefd cheesy but i like to think they got to take a little bit of leave after me1 so… they rented a log cabin somewhere (not sure if they went back to earth or just a colony planet somewhere?), turned off non-emergency comms on their omnitools and just chilled for a bit… went hiking, had drinks at the tiny bar in the closest small town, holed up in the cabin all day and had sex lmao it was probably the most peaceful week of aris entire life and it left a big impression on him
ofc later there’s stuff like their wedding day, their son’s birth, adopting their daughter etc. kaidan would probably even say, with the emotional distance provided by time, that horizon counts cuz even tho it sucked at the time nothing could have been better than realizing ari was alive
40. Is there someone in the squad of ME/ME2/ME3 Shepard dislikes? Why?
MIRANDA LOL… they just. do not see to eye or get along at all. i find their relationship very entertaining for this reason bc the dynamic of commander & XO who are both trying to be professional but do not respect e/o even the tiniest bit is so funny. theres a convo w her in me2 (i think it might be the one where you can initiate her romance?) where if you choose the renegade dialogue is hilarious to me… miranda makes some snide, passive aggressive comment about shepard based on their background (it’s like “it’s amazing how you’ve managed to succeed despite being _____” lmao) and then shepard is like “OH i get it, you’re jealous bc i’ve been more successful than you and TIM likes me more even tho i’m a big piece of shit idiot?” i love it it’s so funny. they both suck. eventually they do build some kind of mutual respect btwn them but theyre still… not exactly friends. i think in me3 ari was like “damn i hope miranda’s ok” and then when he actually met her again remembered why he used to be so pissed at her all the time lmao. (after me3 tho she saves his life Again and they probably have a lot of time in the hospital to just talk so maybe they do become genuine friends)
41. Are there any important relationships in Shepard’s past that defined their character? /42. Is there someone who had a great influence on Shepard?
just gonna try to combine these i guess,
- his parents, although he only got an unfortunate short time with them, he takes after both of them a lot, and the things his parents imparted on him stuck with him, but especially as he gets older he’s also really aware of the mistakes they made
-the reds, in general. not a really positive influence lmao but. they were his home for years & he learned how the world works through them, for better or worse… it’s why he’s a bit of a cynic, although later he is able to characterize it more as “this shit sucks But we can make it better” rather than just “this shit sucks”
- anderson was the first person ari ever felt saw him as a human being, and it was… a slow-going thing to learn to trust him ahah, but wanting to be worthy of anderson’s approval shaped a lot of his career decisions
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Reflections
Day 2 : Prompt 2 || Scars/ Recovery
Quick note: didn't get a chance to fill this prompt yesterday, so I did it today. I honestly don't mind if you wanna rb and tag as a ship/brotp but keep the discourse out of my comments or else I will be reporting. Told through Shiro's POV bc I wanted to show the differences with Keith, not talk about it from his (Keith's) perspective. Enjoy!
Shiro sighs, looking at the door in front of him. His guilt was suffocating him alive; he felt as though it were chains squeezing around his body tightly, pulling him down, dragging loudly behind him. He turns the door's knob slightly, looking at the scene before him.
Laying on the bed with his eyes closed peacefully is Keith. He looks much older now, and there's a bandage wrapped around his dark locks, an angry red scar on his cheek, marring his otherwise smooth skin, and Shiro feels as though his guilt has increased tenfold.
They have been through so much together, the Paladins, they're so young, and none of them deserve this. They have families who love them, they had their entire futures ahead of them, only to be robbed of it by being thrust into the middle of an intergalactic war that had nothing to do with them.
He couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like for Keith to step up, to step into a position he never wanted in the first place. To leave the team behind in the hands of an evil clone, all the while he'd been d—
He'd been missing.
Keith stirs, as if he knows he's being watched. Indigo irises peep through half-closed lids, and Keith mutters, “Sh-Shiro?”
“Hey Keith,” he greets softly, “How are you?”
Keith lets out a lazy yawn.
“’m fine,” he mumbles, moving to get up, “My head hurts a bit, but I'm fine. Did you manage to find anything on the Altean who attacked in the robeast--?”
“Keith,” Shiro says, placing his hand on Keith's shoulder, “Hey, take a break. You and the other Paladins deserve it. You've been in three consecutive battles and took a pretty bad beating. You need to regain your strength and energy.”
“But--" Keith tries to protest, but Shiro cuts him off with a concerned glare.
“Fine,” he pouts, sitting back.
Shiro settles into the chair at Keith's bedside. The silence gets overbearing after a few minutes. He doesn't know if Keith can tell, but he can definitely tell that there's something different about their relationship. It's the same as it was, but it's somehow more strained. Awkward. He wonders if it's one sided, due to his disorientation from having his essence removed from Keith's Lion and having it placed into the body of his evil clone. Keith seems to be acting pretty normal with him.
His eyes are automatically drawn to the scar on Keith's cheek. That's from him. Well, not him Shiro, but clone Shiro.
No one will ever know the amount of pain and guilt and internal self loathing that Shiro holds for allowing Haggar to possess him like that. Because of her and Lotor, he put his friends in even more danger than they ever realized. Because of them, he became an unsteady, harsh leader. Even though this was not his body, Shiro could still sometimes summon up some of the clone’s memories. He doesn't think he'll ever forget how it (he?) snapped at Lance in a way the real Shiro never would.
“Hey,” Keith looks at him with gentle eyes, as if talking to a scared animal, “is everything alright, Shiro?”
“Do you trust me, Keith?” the words tumble from his lips before he realizes what he's saying.
“What kind of question is that?” there's suddenly a cold, purple fire burning in Keith's eyes, “Of course I do!”
“How could you?” He says this lowly, the pain and guilt finally escapes with the small crack in his voice, “How could you, after I did that to you?!”
He can't bring himself to look at the scar he's pointing at. Keith's eyes drop to his cheek.
“That wasn't you,” he whispers, “I saw the fight happening in the Quantum Abyss, you know? I saw glimpses of the future. I saw us fighting and I saw that I couldn't win against you. I couldn't save you. But then I saw our past. And in every single one of those memories, you were always there. You made a promise to never give up on me, and you kept it. You've always kept it. We're not blood, and you didn't have to do anything for me, but you did. I love you, Shiro, and I swear that I will do whatever it takes to do the same for you.”
This is Keith. He's at peace, he's grown up and he's matured into the man Shiro always knew he could be. Brave, compassionate and loyal to the point where he was willing to die for Shiro. To die with him.
Before he knows it, he's breaking. It’s too much, he's just hurting so damn much, he’s suffered so much, he’s lost so, so much, he's so broken, he has so many mental scars, and he wants a break to relax, to rest, to anything, he just wants to give up this..... this burden, if he can give up this feeling of responsibility just for a little while, if he can---
Keith doesn't hesitate to bring him into his arms and hug him tightly. He doesn't care that Shiro's sobbing messily into his shirt, he doesn't care about his shaky breaths, or his death grip on Keith's arm is probably agitating the wicked scar left on Keith’s shoulder from his Marmora trials. His priority is to comfort Shiro.
“We've all endured so much, Shiro. I don't blame you for anything, and I forgive you for everything. You did the same for me. And yes, we all hurt at some point,” he hears Keith whisper, “But there also comes that time we need to recover. I think it's time that we start to recover. And I want to start by letting you know that I'll always be here for you. Always."
#voltron: legendary defender#vld keith#vld shiro#vld#takashi shirogane#shiro (voltron)#keith vld#keith kogane#keith birthweek 2k18#keith birthweek#happy birthday keith#my fic#my text#my post#luna grey writes#vld fanfic#keith (voltron)
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Two sides of a coin Pt. 2
Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader
Type: Superpower au
Genre: Angst
Word count: 3k
Authors note: kinda inspired by the incredibles 2 but also infinity war and divergent lol my brain just was excited but it’s not that sad trust me
————
Even if your eyes had been down, looking at your own scar as the hand Taehyung had placed upon it began to grip harder, the golden color in his own eyes beginning to rim that dangerous blood rouge that indicated that his patience was wearing thin, very thin.
“All I heard was the mothers screams, and then the little girls… my own before my dad came in and stopped him…”
Needless to say you had been under care at the hospital for the next two weeks, with a lash that large on your torso, as young and small you were, the man ended up serving some time.
Your hand mindlessly rubbing at the scar as Taehyungs own stayed latched to your side, as if he didn’t know how to talk he growled and made you look at him, large hands forcing your face to face him. His eyes boring into yours, flickering to each orb, wanting to make sure that you were understanding his words.
“Y/N, I NEVER, EVER, EVER will let you get hurt like that again. EVER…”
You smile meekly at him, but the damage had already been done, the mental and physical scarring of a child whose childhood was stolen from her before she was even born. Growing up to not look anyone too closely in the eyes, keep your feet planted on the ground, keep her hands clasped at all times, keep your head down and don’t say a word to anyone.
It still stuck with you to this day; old habits die hard.
“I know no one would hurt you like that here, no one would even think about it Y/N. Trust me, believe in me.”
Now, this is the part where you would smile some more. Nod and hold each other.
But no, he was blinded, even if the people here were meek and kind that didn’t change the fact that there were still some out there who were. Sprinkled here and there.
So, you knitted your eyebrows together.
“Tae… I… I can’t trust what I don’t even know is true. And while I’m sure you mean it with a kind heart, there hasn’t been a day since I have moved here that i haven’t been scoffed at or looked at as if I was some vile creature that crawled out of hell.”
Your eyes were now the ones flickering between his. Indigo blossoming from the insides of your irises, anger and malice building up around your heart. Confusion laced his features as his lips remained partially parted, as if he didn’t know what to say but wanting to push the words that had been stuffed up in his chest.
“Yes you were lucky enough to grow up in a place where powers like ours are celebrated and looked at as if we are gods.. But you also have the life of an idol… so how could you possibly be hated most of the time when all the anger and hatred is drowned out by the screaming fans who adore you to no end.”
Your chest was tight with all these feelings each fighting to get a chance in the spotlight.
Anger. Sadness. Embarrassment. Vulnerability.
“You’re an idol, that’s the difference between you and me. I know you’ve had your own experiences, I know you went through shit when you were a kid, and so did I. But it got better for you, you’re going up up up. I’m only staying steady Tae, I’m just a small town girl who was beaten and spit at, yelled and punched and kicked and I never wanted you to know that I was this broken!”
Blubbering your words so tightly together it was hard to hear what exactly what you were saying, but Taehyung was still listening, eyebrows furrowed in worry as you began to shake, sniffling and wiping your tears and snot onto the sleeve of your loose shirt.
“I… I never wanted you to see the little girl who was torn apart… who never flew again after that day…”
He pulled you in as you collapsed against his firm chest, his strong arms wrapping around you as an attempt to keep you shielded from the horrible world he was dim too; until now.
Cooing at you as he ran his fingers through your hair, not caring as your tears and snot now dripped from your face to his sun kissed chest.
Not able to grasp the thought that you hadn’t flown since you were eight… he couldn’t imagine the pain you were put through, having to force your gift down deep inside of you, ultimately making you forget how to fly ever again, along with the pure joy that came with it.
He couldn’t imagine not ever using his powers again, the way the crowd would roar whenever he did tricks with the fire cannons at the concerts. Him and jimin would do tricks together, him with his fire and the other with water, making animals and stories with their opening to the concert. It was joy to see the fans cheer not only at their talent to sing, but also their abilities that made them so much more different from everyone else.
It was about thirty minutes later and you had fallen asleep into his arms. He had pulled the both of you to the headboard of the bed, tugging the sheets up to tuck you in warmly next to his heater of a body, as you were cooler than most because of your powers, a perfect fit.
Looking down at you, saddened that you had harbored so much pain, recalling of the day he met you months ago at BigHit. You were merely an intern, trying to find a job after just moving overseas in search for a better life for your family.
And as you had gotten older you only gained the ability to conjure up small gusts of wind or stop it all together, using it some days, only when it really mattered. Like if someone had gotten too close to the edge of the train platform, their arms swinging to gain balance did you send air to their front, sending them stumbling backwards as the train when rushing by. The individual staring in bewilderment of how they just survived, and you smiling after letting out a held breath of tension.
Though those were small moments that didn’t require a lot of energy, you still hadn’t flown in years.
So you had been stacking and organizing some papers, humming to yourself, before the stack that had been on the desk to your left had suddenly decided to topple over. Thinking quick, you put your hands up to stop the air, causing them all to freeze mid flight, before sighing as relief washed over you, moving your hands back together to bring all of the papers together again.
It wasn’t until you heard a sudden cheer of glee from the doorway did you drop the papers again, sending them in every which direction, Kim Taehyung had been watching the whole time as you thought no one was around to see you perform a small act. From then he would pester you, with no ill intention, he was just excited to see that he wasn’t the only one beside his members, someone new. And over time, your small frown and helpless pleas that he would just leave you alone turned into shy blushes and prayers that he would talk to you the next day.
Taehyung then began to doze off with you in his arms, guilt filled his heart for even pressing the matter, but at the same time glad he did. He was going to find a way to get you to be able to rely on him and fully be able to surrender your fear for the pleasure that was brought to you whenever you flew.
“I promise..”
He whispered as sleep finally took him under its spell.
Authors Note: YAY I finished!! hope you all liked this even if it was a spur of a moment, let me know if you want more okie baiiiii
Also I couldn’t find the same gif so enjoy this one lol - Luna 💕
#vbts#v#tae#taetae#taehyung#kimtaehyungxreader#kimtaehyung#bts#btsfic#btsimagine#angst#kpop#kpopfic#kpopimagine#kpopreaction#vxreader
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Seven
Ross came back to the Cat'n Hammer five days running. He spent until his coin ran out and he had nothing left but the pretty stones. On the sixth day he traded one stone for an entire afternoon in the attic.
"Opals," he said again. "They're all I've got left, love. And each is worth more coin than you'll see in a week."
I didn't believe him but I took the stone anyway. It warmed in my hand.
Ross made me pile all eight mattresses in one corner of the attic and then he took me on the floor, despite the splinter and the damp. He was less enthusiastic, this time. Perhaps the frenzy of lust was finally wearing away.
Nevertheless, when he had rutted his fill, he wanted me to stand in the center of the drafty room and turn about in a circle on my toes.
I humored him, but only because I could see he had something other than his prick in mind.
"You're small," he said. "You won't grow much more. How old are you?"
"I don't remember," I lied.
Ross propped himself on one elbow. His brow creased over the scars on his face. I wondered what he was thinking. And then I decided it didn't matter. The draft had prickled my flesh and I'd had enough of his avid stare.
"You've got long fingers," he continued, watching as I squirmed back into my shift and trousers. The smell of him lingered on my hands. "And you're quick."
"Quick?" I looked up, suddenly uneasy. It was much safer, at the Cat, to be remembered as stolid and loyal.
He stood and stretched. "I've watched you. You're careful. You pay attention. And you don't intend to stay here long, do you, Bliss?"
"No." I showed him elaborate unconcern. "I imagine I'll move on, eventually."
"Got some wage put away for travel? You don't send it all to your grandfather, do you?"
So he’d been asking questions. I felt a knife edge of fear and masked it with annoyance. I wondered who had spoken so freely about my life. If it was Shel, I would make her regret it.
I must have taken a step backwards because he laughed.
"I'm not in the slave trade, Bliss. I'm looking for a juggler."
"A juggler?"
He nodded and collected his strewn clothing, separating boots from tunic. "I own a circus troop. Performers, yes?"
When he saw that I understood, he nodded. "We're about to head south for summer's end. And I've just lost my juggler. To a pretty widow and her passel of brats, Fox save me."
"I don't juggle." And I did not intend to start. Circus folk were little more than beggars. And also thieves, more often than not. That very last thing I needed was a right hand lost to the king for stealing.
"I'll teach you," Ross replied. "Like I said, you're quick. By the time we reach the border, you'll juggle in your sleep."
"I'm happy here."
"You don't belong here." He pulled his tunic over his head, then tossed me a lumpy bag. "It's time for a change."
I could feel the juggler's props through the felt. "I'm not going with you."
"You'll stay here and die of the rot?" Ross mocked. "Or perhaps you had ideas of joining the king's court. They'll never take you, Bliss. You're a peasant and a whore and you look it."
I had not thought of the court, not exactly. Still, I shivered.
"Come south with me, for two seasons. We'll be back in the spring. By the time the buttercups blossom, you'll be in Derby again but this time rich as a lord."
He saw my face and smiled. "Southerners love our kind, Bliss. You'll be fed to bursting, clothed in silk and weighted with jewels. Opals are just the beginning, love. Wait until you earn a Southern sapphire."
I cannot remember if I believed him, truly. But the pretty stone was still in my hand, glinting as I rolled it between thumb and forefinger.
"Come," Ross cajoled. "Let me show you."
I told myself I would be back in the spring, with enough coin and riches to set Granda up nicely. But I think I knew, even then, that there would not be any home waiting for my return.
*****
It was six days' ride from the River Ann to the center of Emman. Bliss would have taken it all in one lump with hardly a stop in between if Maurice had not put his foot down and insisted on wisdom.
"Fear has made you blind and bullheaded," he said. "And you are not doing any of us any good."
She'd listened, for once. Which might have worried Maurice if he were not so grateful for the rest. His body no longer took to the saddle as it once had. He wobbled in the mornings and collapsed, numb, into his bedding each sunset.
Shaara had more energy. The boy went into the nearest village every evening and returned at moonrise with any bits and pieces of interest he could glean.
Which, in truth, was not very much.
After the very first temple the boy disguised himself. Or so he said. There were no more offers of cooked meat for the prodigal heroes.
In the snatches of sleep between dismount and dawn, Maurice dreamt. He dreamt of small faces painted on smooth shell, and of the Southern perfume he could smell on Shaara at the end of the day.
In his dreams the miniatures spoke in urgent, blurred tones. Maurice strained in his sleep to understand and woke with an aching head for his troubles.
As they gained on the Lower Temple he began to dream instead of the past, of the dead lying broken in the mud, and of the sound of pistols and cannons. In one nightmare grapeshot throbbed in his shoulder, the wound searing his flesh. He could smell char as Moire, insubstantial as the rest of the dreaming, bent to tend his wound. In his sleeping mind her hair had grown long and her eyes were bright and dilated, opiate touched, and when she spoke it he could not understand her any more than he could the faces on the painted shell.
"She hadn't a head for healing," Bliss said, unaffected, when he relayed the dream. "And she would never let her hair grow long. Too dangerous."
"It was beaded," Maurice said, slowly, remembering. "And knotted."
This unwelcome news silenced Bliss, but only for a moment. "Was she wearing a temple shawl?"
"No."
"Good." Bliss waved a hand, dismissive. But the rest of that day she'd ridden the pony at an unfair speed, as if trying to outrun Horrid himself.
Emman City lived on the very edge of the Seat’s shadow. Another fortnight’s journey south and the weary traveler would be standing before the High Temple. But a man did not have to be not quite as careful on the streets of Emman, was not quite so afraid that he did not dare mutter about the price of ale, or the constriction of evening curfew.
The city was surrounded entirely by a smooth, white wall made of crushed sea shell and blood plaster. Maurice knew very well how carefully that wall was tended. Once he had spent the daylight hours of every fourth week mashing shell and massaging plaster into a paste used to patch any hole or crack the city watch might report .
Bliss's small troop paused before the city gates, waiting in line to be passed through.
"We'll visit the barracks first," she declared, standing high in her stirrups, trying to see over the milling crowd.
Maurice grunted. He doubted they would find any welcome in the soldiers’ quarter, especially if Bliss barreled in all venom and anxiety, demanding to see Moire.
But by the stiffness in Bliss's stance, there was no point in arguing. She’d never been one for caution, even on a good day.
"Look," Shaara said. "They've the red up, yet."
Bliss on her slow, squat pony, cursed and abandoned stirrups for the saddle. Even standing lightly on the animal's spine, she was too short.
"I can't see it."
"It's there." Maurice could just make out the crimson banner hung high above Emman's gate. "You'll glimpse it soon enough."
The red had been hanging the very first time the’d entered the city, and was still up on the day they finally left it. A call sent out to the young, a search for both initiate and soldier, the banner graced the white walls only during time of war. Maurice had supposed the draft long over. He wondered uneasily whether the red had come down at all during Bliss's self exile.
"Who are they warring with?" Shaara wondered. "If not us?"
Maurice shook his head. Bliss ignored them both.
The sun rose high in the sky and then dipped again before they faced the white gate. Ten soldiers here, and obviously far better trained then their Northern cohorts on the bridge over the River Ann. Their captain, a grizzled ex-slave, looked Bliss and her companions over from head to toe. He knew they were Northerners. He passed them through anyway. The Seat had no fear of spies.
The red banner flapped and snapped above their heads as they entered the city.
Beyond the gate a circle of hotels, brothels and three penny restaurants waited for the casual visitor and off duty soldier. The square courtyard between the buildings bustled. Here and there hawkers pushed through the crowd, singing their wares in the peculiar clipped accent that, to Maurice's ear, was ineffably Southern
They stabled their mounts in a wide building built for exactly that purpose; the Seat did not allow horse or cart into the center of his cities. The scrawny woman who walked the animals to their paddock and took Bliss's coin smelled heavily of opiate gum. She kept her gaze cast down, and spoke in a whisper.
"Nothing's changed," Maurice said, resigned, as they left the horses.
"Of course not." Bliss threw him a mocking smile. "Did you really think things would have? 'In the shadow," she continued, quoting a Temple chant, 'time is as nothing.'"
Emman's narrow cobbled streets were quiet beneath the midday sun. On either side white plaster walls rose into the sky, slit here and there with thin windows, brightened once or thrice by a revealing flash of indigo curtain. Here were the city flats, housing multiple families. The pristine façades reflected sunlight, cooling the rooms within, doubling the heat in the narrow streets. Maurice shed his cloak and loosened his tunic.
"Winter," Shaara marveled, following suit. "And it's warm. I'd forgotten."
"I hadn't," Maurice replied, and sent a prayer of thanks Trout's way.
Emman's barracks clustered in gentle humps at the very center of the city, a squat beehive at the foot of a single, slender white tower. The tower belonged solely to the Seat. Most often the stained glass windows remained dark, the chambers beyond closed and deserted.
Bliss paused and looked up, considering the spire without expression.
"Do you suppose he's been here since Green Hill?" Shaara mused. Maurice saw the lad shiver and wondered if he remembered enough that day to be afraid.
"No doubt," Bliss said. Then she shrugged. She made as if to duck into the first barracks but then paused.
"We should have gone to the Temple first," she said. Maurice heard her teeth click together.
"You'd climb the steps and cross the threshold?" Maurice let deliberate disbelief ring. He didn't like the sudden uncertainty he read in her eyes and he wanted to shake her until she regained bluster. "Is even Moire worth such sacrifice?"
"I'd send you in," Bliss spat. "And wait in the clean air."
She stalked through a doorway so low even she had to slouch. Maurice bent after and gestured at Shaara. The boy looked reluctantly away from the Seat's spire before following.
"Major Moire Kler," Bliss repeated for the third time, elbows on limestone desk, nearly nose to nose with the officer on the other side. "Is she here or not, man?"
"She is not." The officer, a corporal by Maurice's best guest, took visible hold of his courage. The first time Bliss spat her question, the fellow had been too irritated to reply. The second time, understanding began to dawn and he had gone mute with shock or fear.
But the officer was a man in the Seat's barracks and as such no doubt used to both fear and distasteful surprise. He rallied quickly enough and he was not going to let Bliss pass so easily.
"The Major is not available," he said, spine stiff. "If you would be so kind as to leave your name, I might send a messenger -"
"Don't be daft." Impossibly, Bliss inched her compact frame further across limestone. "I can see by your face you know who we are. In fact, I'd bet Horrid's first you've been expecting us."
Maurice had decided the same and he did not like the implication.
"Let us through, soldier." He set his hand on the desk and leaned with Bliss. "Or at least tell us where to find her."
The officer seemed unable to look away from Bliss's scowl. "She will not be back before nightfall." He swallowed but continued gamely on. "And I have orders not to let you pass."
"She still sleeps here, then, does she? In the Major's chamber?"
"Yes."
"Alone?"
Maurice saw sweat bead on the officer's brow. "I'm sure I do not know, ma'am. Captain." He took a breath. "She left something, in case you…If you came."
Bliss snatched the square of paper and unfolded it with steady hands. Love notes, Maurice thought wryly, remembering Shaara's tease. But Bliss's mouth set and she tore the paper into neat scraps, linen threads scattering.
"We'll wait." She rolled her shoulders and paced once back and forth in front of the desk.
The officer released a relieved sigh. "If I can bring you anything? Meat, or tea or temple birds for the evensong?"
Maurice winced. Bliss's chin came up.
"Inside," she added. "We'll wait inside."
She brushed the corporal aside. The man quivered, hands flexing. He could decide to leap, Maurice planted himself in the way.
"She doesn't fight fair," he said, pleasantly. "And neither do we. Best just to go and fetch the Major."
The corridor past the limestone desk was cool and, for the most part, quiet. Muffled voices and the faint boom of training drums slipped through thick walls. The beehive remained a place of shelter and secrets and lives given entirely to the Seat. Maurice felt the old sense of peace descend, and caught himself relaxing.
He could have found his way to the Major's quarters in the dark.
The heavy wooden door waited at the end of the old hall. Maurice could not help but lay his palm against the rough planks. The scars were the same; the cluster of burns where he had snuffed endless cigarettes, the crack Will's axe had cut in the lintel, and the slivered dent Bliss had left a finger span beneath the bronze latch on the night they had run.
That dent Bliss touched, lightly, a slender thumb against splinters.
"It'll be locked," she said. "Shaara?"
For once, Bliss's apprentice blanched at the challenge. "You're sure?"
"Yes."
Shaara shrugged and took his copper pins to the key hole. The latch resisted. Shaara his lip and muttered. Maurice wondered if he was imagining Moire's imminent ire. He set his hand on the boy's shoulder. Shaara twitched and shrugged him off, and the latch gave and the lock snicked open.
Maurice expected darkness. Instead, a single wick burned in Southern oil beneath an amber shade. The cell was as small as Maurice recalled. A single cot on the floor resided still against the same eastern wall but Moire had added color in the form of vibrant, dyed wool pillows and a woven blanket. An earthenware bowl waited on a wooden stool and Moire's leather wrapped dress sword rested against the wall in the farthest corner.
Shaara slipped his pins back up his sleeve and dropped crosslegged to the bare floor, resignation in the slump of his shoulders. Bliss padded carefully into the room. She touched the earthenware bowl first, regarded the lamp beneath lowered lids, and then paused to plump the pillows on the cot.
"Color," she muttered, bemused.
Maurice found himself drawn to the weapon in the corner. He touched the wrapped scabbard and then drew a finger back in surprise. Dust. Yet when he drew the blade free the metal gleamed, well oiled. That, at least, had not changed.
When he turned around Bliss had settled on the cot among the pillows, elbows on her knees, eyes on the open door.
They did not have to wait long.
They heard her before they saw her. Boot heels ringing on cobblestone, which was entirely on purpose, as Moire could be quiet and wily as Fox when the mood took her. Shaara swallowed audibly. Maurice took a breath and fell into parade rest, wishing suddenly for the protection of a dress uniform. Bliss didn't move but Maurice could see her pulse beating fast in her throat from across the room.
The clatter of Moire's haste stopped just outside the cell. A tick of silence, an unheard inhale, and their Major stepped through the door, the affronted corporal three strides behind.
Shaara jumped up, a puppet yanked by invisible strings. Maurice, unable to help himself, stepped from the edge of the room to the lad's side, rank awaiting new orders, the old habit far too deeply engrained to shake.
Bliss did not stand, as friendship or etiquette might require. Instead she took her elbows from her knees, crossed her arms on her chest and slouched more deeply into the nest of cushions. Without uttering a single word, she spoke eloquently of insolence.
And so Bliss certainly would, Maurice realized, between one slow heartbeat and the next, for his dream had spoken true.
Somehow in their absence Moire had given up her soldier's leathers for the dun priestly raiment of the Lower Temple.
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