#I mean after a line disappears the parts that remain become their own shapes and blocks

[mossmx]

I don't give a shit about the flared base I am fucking that T piece for the spin, you are absolutely right that we need to incorporate the gameplay into the experience

I'm still team | but you are so valid

btw, speaking of gameplay, I feel we are sleeping on the fact you need ALL the pieces to make a line eventually

So idk, I am thinking we should consider the poly aspect 👀

[starshipsofstarlord]

Could I request a Bucky Barnes x reader smut? Basically she and Bucky have been together for some time and maybe it’d be a little angst where the two are talking about the future and Bucky not thinking he can ever have a normal future? Which would result in soft smut and later reader being revealed as pregnant so Bucky finally gets his family

I’m Home

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | based on the request ^^

Warnings | angst, smut, oral sex (m receiving), fluff, pregnancy, mentions of death

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

The Wilson’s boat rocked sturdily upon the water, swaying as the boats worked aboard. Your hand held the weight of a silver spanner, twirling it in your fist as though it were a knife, thinking of the long road ahead of you. Sam had the shield now, that was a good start, but still, there was a ways to go until the world recognised him as the captain that he was meant to be.

There was so much destruction ongoing in the world, what with the flag smashers, and whomever the power broker was, and surely, you knew on the shallow surface, that there would be masses more problems to arise. It was exhausting, to know that there was no end to the war on earth, and that you were surely going to be fighting the threats until you could no more.

Bucky felt the same; he had just gone from one war to another, losing everyone that he cared about along the way. Steve had given everything up to finally find peace, and yet, the two did not share the same opportunity. An escape was never laid at your feet, instead, the pair of you were trapped in the cycle of cruelty, being blended around in a shredder by reality.

“Hey.” A voice confiscated you from the lonesome containment of your thoughts; it was Sam’s hosting sister, Sarah. I’m her own way, though you doubted that she would never admit such a thing, she was a hero. She had become a widow, and not to mention she remained a stable mother to keep her boys afloat, as well as nurturing half the kids that lived within close proximity.

“Hi Sarah.” You put the tool down, giving her your ample attention as you stood, tugging your fingers into the loops of your jeans as you stepped out of the boat, and onto the dock. “Anything I can help with?” It hadn’t passed your attention that Sam and Bucky had disappeared, but not into ash like last time. Instead, they had walked off in the direction of the house, most likely meddling about with a ball, in the back yard with Jim and Jody.

“I just came to let you know I’ve made the sofa up for you and Bucky. Are you sure you’ll be all good, I could always kick Sam outta his bed and make him sleep on the living room floor?” The two of you had nightmares, if you were to be separated from him for even a night, it was certain that the pair of you would greatly suffer. That was something you didn’t want to burden any of the Wilson’s with, screaming in the middle of the night because flashes from your past struck an unconscious nerve.

“All good, and thank you Sarah. You didn’t have to let us stay here, we both appreciate it, a hell of a lot.” One thing that you had learnt throughout your years was to show gratitude. The smallest amount shared had the ability to spring up moods, and had even set you on a much more heroic path than the one that you had been originally been placed upon.

“You’ve earned your stay.” Sam’s sister shrugged with modesty, acknowledging the help that you and Bucky had not only given to Sam, but to her family’s legacy. The two of you had aided with fixing the old wreckage that had now returned to the form of a boat, keeping it afloat rather than permitting it to sink from the quarrels that Sam had with himself regarding fixing the damned yet meaningful port of transport.

“This life you have, it’s great. I get it’s not easy, but it’s beautiful. You have two wonderful kids, that you’ve done such a great job raising, and not to mention, these community that you have is so loving and kind, even to us outsiders.” The pair of you had paused outside of her front door, speaking. “Sam is lucky to have you, he truly is.”

“Well, maybe one day this life could be something similar to what you’ll have.” The sister of your friend smiled, though your mirroring expression retracted. In a stumble of thought, you shook your head, not believing that possibility. This all was... perfect. That was something that you had never had, nor would you think that you’d ever be permitted such a peaceful lifestyle.

“I don’t think that would work out.” You sincerely mumbled, feeling the sad swelling in your chest at the prospect of all the luxuries that life had denied both you and Bucky of. It wasn’t fair all the same, but the two of you were used to being denied human rights, let alone the simplicity of nothing more than a life together. “As nice as it sounds, me and Buck aren’t really cut out for all this I suppose.”

“The world does not choose who can and cannot have a family, there’s always a way. Just because you haven’t had the most ideal line of story does not at all mean that you can’t make it work, from as much as i know, you two deserve a life together, that doesn’t include being shot at, or shooting at other people. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta go for it, and hope for the best.” She gave you a final nod, before heading inside, and you trailed after her into her her residency.

The two of you went your separate ways, and there, you saw Bucky, sat up on the sofa, his hands clasped together as his eyes stared towards the tan bag, that concealed not the shape, but the Stars and Stripes of the infamous shield. It was much a relief that it was no longer in Walker’s toxic clutch, however its presence, among other things, were taking a clear toll on your boyfriend.

“You ever feel like we’re stuck?” The air was tense around you both as he spoke solemnly, it diverting to match the mood of his question. “Like we’re us, and I love us, but it makes me think that it’s it. Just me and you, on this path for the rest of our lives, never getting a compensated break, nor an average person’s future. I want this, what these people here have, not the combat that is aided by this metal arm, or the associations that stick to us like life lines.”

“All the time, it’s on my mind James.” With a sigh, you came to sit beside him on the couch, resting your head against his bionic shoulder. “I ever wonder if there’s a timeline of you and me where there’s none of this ruckus, we just have a nice little house in a quiet and accepting place, and maybe a kid or two in the future.”

“I’d give anything up for that.” He looked at you, almost wide eyed, as his hand slithered down onto your knee cap, rubbing small circles as he wore a blunt and endearing smile upon his infatuating lips. “I mean that Buck, that sounds...”

“Perfect?” He asked, leaning closer as he grabs your chin with his wondrous fingers, his nose brushing alongside your own as his puckered lips fell upon yours, earning a small hun of content from within you. “Because you’re perfect to me, and no matter what life we are encased in, I want to share it with you. I want stare at the night sky and watch the moonlight illuminate the side of your face, and the stars reflect in your entrapping eyes, that I want to look into like a medium’s orbs forever, because that is how I will see the future that I ever so hope for.”

“How long have you been working on that one Barnes, because you are usually not that smooth?” A small laugh erupted from your mouth, but you were quickly silenced as you felt a cold metal hand slither up and beneath the back of your tank top, rubbing along the seam of your spine, as his lips ran down the column of your throat, evoking small and delicate whimpers out of you.

“Shut up doll, because I really want to fuck you now, and those words leaving your mouth are making it kinda hard to concentrate.” A furrow imbedded between his brows, as you tilted your head at him, a smirk proclaiming your expression as you pulled the material over your head, and reached behind yourself to unclip the back of your bra.

“Kinda hard to concentrate, hun?” You asked nonchalantly as his gaze zeroed in on your bare breasts, his hands smoothing along your ribcage as he adjusted his grip of you so that he was palming at your breasts, and squeezing the nipples. “I want you in me baby, I’ve practically gone days without you inside of me.” Licking your lips, you reached down to palm your beloved through his layers, earning a positive groan from the former assassin.

“Hours, you mean. I fingered you on the road trip here.” Yes, that was true, however, it was only his fingers, not even the metal ones, and whilst you loved what they alone could do, he had to be discreet as you were sat on the back of the truck, which had carried the primary parts for the Wilson’s family boat. If you were to scream out, they’d have surely thought that you’d fallen off the back of the truck and pull over, or if they had much sense, they’d have noticed that there was more going on than two passengers sat side by side on the journey to their small neighbourhood by the docks,

“You heard me Barnes, otherwise I’m sure Sam wouldn’t have any problem if I came to his room in this state of undress that I am currently portraying.” Growling was never Bucky’s fortes, however the sound aggressively ripped through the tunnel of his throat, as he threw off his grey top, quickly unfastening his belt, as he awaited for you to strip the rest of your clothing before him.

But rather than doing so, as he stood before you, your hand had trouble resisting the sight of his cock that had bobbed to attention, and thus, you wrapped it around his toned flesh, giving it a couple jerks that had his head reeling back, before you tongued his tip, moaning to yourself at the taste of him invading your sensitive taste buds. “Love your cock.”

As soon as you said that, Bucky gently gathered your head in a ponytail so that it was free from bombarding your face, and groaned as quiet as he could as you sucked him in your mouth, running your tongue up the side of his shaft. “Is that a part of your dream world baby doll, the sight of my cock throbbing to be inching down that perfect little throat of yours?”

To answer him, you pressed your head down deeper, humming around him as your eyes ogled up at the sight of your super soldier, who was trying his hardest to keep his eyes open, and attuned to the sight of you. He held his bottom lip between his teeth, as you lightly gagged around him, pulling off him, and squeezing his balls, before running your hungry tongue along the middle of his sack.

“Always. It would be a dream if you made love to me right here and now though, I’m not sure I can wait any longer James.” Bucky took a long inhale, before ravishingly pulling down your jeans and panties in one go, and tossing you so that he was below your form, and you hovered over him, toying with his erect cock. “I love you so much Bucky, and I’m scared of what’s to come. I have a feeling that there’s gonna be a fight.”

“There’s always a fight doll face.” He rubbed his thumb soothingly across your jaw, pulling your hips down closer so that you were rubbing your slick folds against his standing cock. “But this is what we’re fighting for, the rest of our lives together. I’d be damned, one day after this, and if I were to die, I’d be a happy man. There’d be the memory of you to keep me forever happy in the afterlife, and not to mention, there’d be no more wars for me to participate in.”

“I’m not going to let you die Buck, even hypothetically. We saw how your little hypothetical synopsis went last time.” Tapping his cock against your clit, a breathy sound evicted from your lips, as you stared down at the two of you intimately touching, the sight alone making you more turned on and impatient. “No one is allowed to kill you, otherwise I’ll unleash hell on all their flag smashing asses.”

Giving him one last stroke, you guided his tip towards your entrance, removing your hand once you had him situated, so that you could rest it upon his sturdy shoulder, and sink down on him, the feeling of him stretching you being the most euphoric sensation that you had ever endured. Hushed moans ceased from the both of you, as Bucky’s hands gripped your ass cheeks, only adding to all of the pleasure that was erupting within you.

“Think your pussy is gonna kill me before anyone else does; your so tight.” His pitch had rose, as your fingertips danced along the left side of his handsome face, invisibly connecting the dots of his beauty marks. You allowed the pair of you to adjust for a simple moment, before you began to raise your hips, sliding up his super soldier rod, only to slide down it again.

The actions were repeated, as your own hands trailed down his warm skin, to drag down the golden lines of his vibranium arm, only to bring the weapon to your mouth, and kiss every black finger up, as you tried your best to muffle the moans that were hoping to reap free. “So fucking big, I love you and your cock.” You muttered, your sight turning blurry as Bucky realised that it was his turn to do the work, and thus, he thrusted up into you, making echoing sounds of your skin slapping together reverberate around the room.

“Love you more.” He gritted his teeth, pulling his metallic hand away from your numb lips, so that he could swirl the elegant digits around your clit, the action provoking whimpers to rapidly surpass your exterior, as you bit harshly onto your own lip, and screwed your eyes shut. “Cum for me doll, want you to cover my hard cock in everything you have. Come on baby, you can do it.”

Without much thought, as your mind was too scrambled to do so, you reached for Bucky’s spare hand, pulling it to your mouth as you sucked on his fingers as though you were blowing him. A low moan that was dialled down from the presence of his flesh digits, ran from your mouth, as you began to bounce your hips, chasing and eventually reaching your high. You came around him, pushing him too over the edge, his seed filling your walls, as you collapsed atop of him, huffing from exhaustion as you removed his salivated hand from the realms of your mouth, resting your head against his panting chest.

Stringed sighs fell from Bucky’s breath as he tried to catch his own breath. His hands rubbed your back, not only to comfort you, but also to subconsciously pull you closer against him, and his softening cock that was still inside you, and was keeping his cum plugged within your tender and pulsating walls. If life was easier, there’d be more time for this, and that, but for now, it was just every now and then. Maybe you’d win this fight and survive until the next one, but maybe, you’d lose and never battle again.

Life was precious, that was something that you had not only learned as an avenger, but also something that had been told to you by Isiah. That man thought that you deserved a normal life, no fighting, no super soldiers. He himself was the biggest yet silent critic of those with additional strength, but his opinion was never going to sway you, not as you stared out into Sarah’s backyard, and watched the man that you loved play with the boys.

They had the shield, and were whisking it through the air like a frisbee; dangerous, yes, but again, life could only amount to so much without an ounce of pain. A content and satisfied smile absorbed any pain on your face, you were enraptured with the sight of Bucky like this, he was like an uncle to these two kids. He was no captain America, that was for sure, but you didn’t want a man in Stars and Stripes, all you wanted was him to be at peace, and it was a fact unbeknownst to him, that you had made such an alternative to that.

“Still want all this?” Sarah emerged, a cheap yet formidable bottle of wine pursed in her hand, as she held two clear and tall glasses in her hand. You hummed, watching as she poured the thin red consistency into one glass, but as she went to fill the other, you held out your hand, shaking your head. The woman was confused, last time you had visited, and were entangled on her sofa with the limbs of your boyfriend and a shaggy old blanket, you had kindly accepted her offer.

“Sure do.” You sighed, staring out into the green abyss where Jim was hanging from Bucky’s arm like it were a branch. “How do you do this, this whole mother thing? I’ve never been able to wrap my head around how you make it look so easy, it’s just, you do such a good job.” Your palms rested flat on your thighs as you laughed at Sam ordering Jody to jump on Bucky’s back, as he fell down in faux defeat.

“It never is easy y/n.” She placed the open bottle down, along with the mismatched glasses, that were asymmetrical considering one was half filled and the other wallowed in emptiness. “But every step of difficulty is worth it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss their father, but they’re my priority. For Jim and Jody, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, and you’d understand that if you ever opened yourself up to giving your life of heroism up to have all this.”

“I might have to.” Twiddling with your fingers, glancing up at your boyfriend, realising that he was in fact not looking over, you clasped your intwined hands over your stomach, smiling softly to yourself. “And maybe not having another option is the best option for me and Buck, because we don’t have to fight with ourselves over being included in our duties, we have new ones.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Sarah asked, resting her nurturing hand upon the tile of your shoulder, prompting you to turn your face towards her. There was a conflict in your eyes, it was something that she recognised her younger self having once worn. It was the idea of putting everything aside, all for a child, everything that she had ever known, so that she could put her baby boy first. “Does Bucky know?”

“He will.” You shifted your head down, unsure of yourself. This had been what you had wanted, and whilst you still envied Sarah for the role she had, you were hurt. A part of you wanted to be an avenger until you were nothing but a soul drifting in the abyss of non existence, another didn’t want to let the knowledge of being a carrier for a new future crumble you. “I just need a moment to tell him.”

“I’ve got it.” She sent you a wink, picking up the items she had brought out, before she called on Sam and the kids to come inside. Sarah had gifted you the opportunity of revealing the truth to your partner with no one else around; you appreciated that. As he stalked closer, you met him halfway, sinking into his arms as he hugged you.

“Looked like you were having fun with the boys.” You verbally noted, loving the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair. “You’re amazing Bucky Barnes, to me and to everyone. I just, don’t want you to freak out on me, I have something big, really big, to tell you, and-“

“Baby, I know.” He smiled, pulling back so that he could look you in the face. “I have super human senses, I heard their little heart beat for the first time yesterday. We’re having a baby, and I couldn’t be happier about it. In fact, I want to ask you if you’ll accept my question of making Sam the godfather.” You nodded, tears standing in your eyes, as you brought the man down for a kiss.

“Yes. But I’m not sure that he’ll be praising us for making a baby when we technically created him or her on the couch inside.” Bucky shook his head at you, kissing your forehead before walking inside with you, preparing to tell the Wilson family, that had along the way became your own, the good news- well, not the sofa bit.

[yesokaythatsfine69]

Heavy Dosage (Levi Ackerman x reader)

Description: after getting hurt during a scouting mission, y/n is given quite a heavy dosage of medication. Will her secret crush on her squad leader remain secret?

Character(s): Y/n, Hangi, Levi, nurse, eren

Pov: 3rd person

Warning(s): pain, broken bones, kissing, no spoilers

A/n: hello! I took a little break earlier and recently I've been watching two new animes, AOT and Kakegurui (both r completely different lmao) so I decided to add more fuel to the fire that is the Levi Ackerman x reader tag. Don't worry there aren't any spoilers I just wrote a cute thing.

*none of the gifts used are mine. Full credit goes to the maker.

"Shit!" That was the last thing y/n had said before she disappeared from the view of her fellow squad members. Levi watched, fear causing him to freeze. One moment she had been calling him a "old slow poke", her smile dazzling and eyes brighter than diamonds- and in an instant she was gone.

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Pain had seared through y/n's skull when she finally landed from being thrown. The titan had grabbed a line of her odm gear and flung her, snapping the line and causing her to fall straight down and into a tree. Her body had tumbled through the branches, each branch snapping with the weight of her body and the force she had been thrown from.

Y/n was usually proud to say that Titan's couldn't touch her- she was fast, faster than almost any person in her squad- and that usually meant that she was untouchable to them. She was the one who helped the other members of her squad survive. Today, however, had been different and not even her speed had saved her.

The pain in her skull forced her eyes open. The area in which she laid was dead silent, but she didn't feel scared or worried. It was peaceful and almost poetic. She focused on her breathing, and tried to register where she had been hurt. Her head hurt, her back hurt, and her legs seethed, but she could at least feel pain.

She tried to move but only whimpered when the pain in her legs intensified. Her eyes watered. She couldn't get up and what she thought had been luck that she experienced from not dying from her tremendous fall- had suddenly become a curse. Now, she would be easily found by a titan and just as easily eaten.

"you've...got to...be fucking kidding...me." she wheezed between hot tears. Suddenly a zipping noise broke the silence around her and a small thumping sound caused her tense up. "Y/L/N!" Her eyes widened at the sound of her squad leader's voice. Then, Two arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up. Captain Levi was above her, on his knees before her- not in the ways she had always dreamed about either.

"What did you do, Brat?" His silver orbs narrowed as he searched her face. Any other time being this close to Levi would've been similar to Heaven, but now, it carried a strange and dangerous weight. "Captain Levi, I-" His expression cut her off. His face was blank, eyes were narrowed, mouth drawn up in a thin line. He was angry, she could sense his emotions beyond what he showed with his face. That had been the reason they worked so well together- y/n could read him like a book.

He seemed to notice she had been crying, and wiped away a stray tear. "I-I'm sorry, Captain Levi I-" He said nothing and hoisted her up in his arms, pressing her head against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat- constant and comforting in her ear. For several moments they trampled in the woods in silence.

Finally he spoke. "I'll get you to the wagons and you'll be okay, y/n, try to be still." His voice seemed tired and his movements were oddly weary. Y/n frowned as she looked up at him.

Somehow she felt like he had said these words not for her benefit, but for his own. He hardly ever used her first name, preferring "brat" and "y/l/n" to order her around with. Now, as his grip on her tightened, she buried her face against his chest, deciding it was best to leave her thoughts unsaid.

As she snuggled against him, he relaxed, his shoulders releasing the tension they carried since he saw that bitch titan thrown her out of his sight. Levi had been angry- but not angry at Y/n. Angry at himself for not protecting her, angry at those fucking Titan's for taking away the people he loved from him. He felt y/n adjust slightly and that's when he realized she had fallen alseep. Her breathing evened out, and she seemed limp against him.

When he reached the clearing Petra ran up to him. "Y/n! Is she okay?" Levi said nothing, and Petra watched in worry as he pushed past her.

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Sometimes lines get blurry. The separation between two distinct things gets combined and those two things once so distinctly different are now seemingly the same. Y/n stared straight ahead, boards on the walls combining and shape shifting. They had given her medicine for her pain, that fact was that her leg had been broken, along with a fractured skull and a few other twisted and mangled bones, so anything was deemed worthy to give her.

The medicine, whatever it was could definitely be considered "that good stuff". She giggled, watching as the nurse adjusted her covers. "You're trying to tickle me!" "Y/n?" Y/n's head slowly bobbed to the side, where Hanji was standing. Her arms were crossed, but a smile shown on her face.

"You look better than I was expecting." Y/n smiled widely. "It's the drugs!" Hanji mimicked her smile. Y/n, was for the most part a lively a fun person. She wasn't anywhere near as loud of bouncy as Hanji herself was- mainly because y/n had a better sense of timing. Now however, Hanji noted that her personality seemed to come on quite strongly.

"I just came to check on you, considering what I heard had happened you are very lucky." Y/n only giggled. "lucky-smucky. Luck had nothing to do with it. It's a skill to hit every single goddamn tree branch in the world and still be kicking." To empathize her point she kicked out the leg that wasn't broken.

"woah, maybe you shouldn't move too much." Hanji put her hands up. "It's okay I don't feel anything!" Y/n lifted her hand up and smacked herself right upside the head. "No pain!" Hanji smiled, "Right, I'll be sure to tell Levi how well you are doing."

Y/n shot up at her captains name. "You should tell him to come see me! It's been too long since I've seen that hot piece of ass!" Hanji frowned. "I- um... I don't think that's for the best...you seem pretty uh... preoccupied." Y/n opened her mouth to most likely say something else unexpected when the nurse reappeared, nodding to Hanji.

"I better be leaving y/n, I'm glad you are doing well. I'll see you later, yeah?' y/n nodded excitedly and Hanji let herself out.

She laughed, nodding her head. "Hot piece of ass...Levi Ackerman?" She snorted. Then, quite quickly the pieces for together and she stopped. "Oh no. Oh no. I should...wait a second, this could be quite an interesting experiment..." She smiled and turned in the direction of the lunchroom.

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"She is doing very well. So well infact she told me not to send you, she doesn't want you to worry. She'll be out before long." Hanji spoke gently to Levi who stared at his tea, his face expressionless. "What do you mean she doesn't want me to visit her? I'm her squad leader." Hanji shrugged and smiled.

"She's doing very well. You'd be wasting your time. She'll be back before you know it." Levi's eyes flashed to his friend, narrowing. The rage he had experienced when he had found her broken body...the way her teary y/c/e looked up at him... He could've exploded with rage. but he needed to stay with y/n, and that's what he had done, making sure she was safe...And now he was being told to stay away from her? His fists clenched.

Hanji seemed to see the conflict. "Why don't you try and take of yourself now? You've done enough for her." Levi only stood up, the sound of his chair scraping against the floor caused those in the lunchroom to look up at him. Leaving his tea, Levi, in his own Levi way, stormed out of the room. Hanji sat there, stirring her tea.

She raised it to her lips and smiled.

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Levi's feet practically moved on their own to the infirmary, each step more angry than the last. In angry flashbacks he felt her head pressed against his chest, her warm breathe tickling his neck, her warm orbs searching his own icy pair- he felt all of that and more...and yet she didn't want to see him?

Had those affectionate moments just been something he wished had happened instead that had actually happened. No. It couldn't have been. But the why would she try to shut him out?

He pushed open the door to the infirmary. He stood in the shadowy doorway for several seconds doing what he did best- watching.

Y/n had spent four consecutive hours counting each board- one by one. Every time she got to twenty though, she got distracted and had to start over. "Twenty-one!" "Y/l/n?" Slowly y/n's left hand, which she had used to count the board, lowered to her side. "Damnit! Lost count! At least I got to twenty one this time." Her head slowly turned to the side where her sexy captain stood, peering down at her. He looked absolutely peeved and y/n giggled.

"Well hello beautiful? Long time no see!" Levi's eyes widened the tiniest bit- but he quickly played it off. "You didn't want me here? Your own captain? Unless you forgot-" Y/n purred. "Damn you're sexy when you're mad! I don't have a clue what you're talking about but-" she shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time!" She reached up and tugged him closer.

"I- y/n-" a finger placed itself over his lips. "Shhhhh..." The finger lifted then hit him again. "Shhhhh...shhhh." y/n stared up at him with a dazed, but delighted expression. She gently stroked his face, reaching up and flicking her hair from his eyes. She smiled at his slightly dazed expression.

"how'sithangingbabey?" Levi blinked out of his daze and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand back from his mouth. "What is wrong with you?" His eyes were fairly wide and his stared at her in both worry and confusion. "I'm in love baby!" She shouted. "In love with youuuuuu!" She sang out flailing her arm and hitting him in the head.

"tch! Ow! Will you-" He paused, his brow furrowed. "You...love me?" She giggled and pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhh. Don't tell Levi." He stared at her. "I am Levi, you brat." Her eyes widened. "Whoops!" She laughed. "My bad!" Levi opened his mouth to speak when the nurse appeared. She gasped upon seeing him. "Captain Levi! I didn't know you were coming!" Y/n lifted her head up to look at the young nurse.

"hey, layoff! This Raven haired beauty's taken!" She yanked him forward. The action caught him off guard and he had to catch himself before he fell. Levi grumbled before detaching himself from her. "I'll speak to you later, y/n."

"You're leaving!?" Gently he ruffled her hair, and in the most soothing voice he could muster, he said, "I'll be back later, don't worry brat." Levi Nodded to the nurse to walk him out. As the nurse turned to follow him she glanced at y/n who mouthed aggressively "he's mine!"

At the door he turned to the nurse, "y/n was in large amounts of pain, so we gave her some medicine to dull it. It seems to have a worked a little..." The two turned back to y/n who had restarted counting the boards again. "Too well."

"tch, right." The end of lips upturned into almost a smile. "Keep me updated." The nurse nodded, "Right, sir."

Casting one last glance he left the infirmary, humming a new tune softly to himself.

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Y/n sighed happily. She had finally been released, given a brace for her leg to help her walk till she was 100% and around fifteen get well cards. Her first move was definitely to go to her room. She missed her room.

She visited with Petra and the other members of her squad, making sure to show off her cool ass brace. She also made sure to say hi to Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Jean. She hadn't seen Captain Levi yet but she figured she'd find him soon- or he'd find her. The nurse mentioned that he'd visited a few times, none of which she remembered- but the thought that he cared enough to do so warmed her up.

Y/n entered the lunchroom, coming face to face with her captain and his fellow squad leader, Hanji. "Oh hi Hanji! Hello, Captain!" Hanji immediately jumped up and hugged her tightly. "Y/n! Congratulations!" Y/n smiled brightly, and hugged her back. "Thank you! I'm feeling pretty good!" Her eyes turned to Levi, who had been watching her intently. He nodded. "The squad has been waiting for your return, y/l/n." Y/n smiled. "Well, you guys won't have to wait much longer. The nurse said just a little while longer then I'm ready to go."

Levi nodded, his expression remaining stern. "I am pretty excited to finally get some sleep in my own bed though, so I'll see you all later." She turned, but a hand wrapped itself around her wrist. Levi had stood up, and was behind her. "I'll walk you there." Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed, but she nodded. "The more...the, uh, merrier."

With curt goodbyes the two began their walk to y/n's room. Hanji had watched the interaction without surprise, sipping some tea.

She laughed to herself as the two went out of view, pushing up her glasses. "This experiment- a definitive success."

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"How do you feel?" Levi matched his pace with y/n, careful to make sure he wasn't moving too fast so that she wouldn't have to walk faster on her leg. "I feel good, itching to go back out there." The two stopped walking and turned so that they were right in front of each other instead of side by side.

Levi only made a clucking sound at her response. "Be sure not to push it, brat. You may be feeling fine now but-" He stopped talking when she put a hand on his chest. He frowned slightly and looked up at her from where his gaze had been.

"Thank you, for everything. I- I'm sorry I wasn't more careful. Next time I'll-" He placed his hand over her own. "Tch, there better not be a next time you stupid brat. If there is I do not I think I could handle it."

Her cheeks darkened. "Captain-" "Just Levi." She smiled at him. "Okay, just Levi." The slight upturn smile Levi had worn vanished at her bad joke into a frown. Lifting up his index finger he placed it directly over her lips.

"shhh..." She tried to speak. "shhhh." Y/n raised a brow at him. "I have lost enough in this life, y/n." Her eyes widened at the use of her first name, and his finger remained on her lips. "But, I cannot lose you, too...please." Her eyes glistened a, a familiar wetness clouding them. Slowly, Levi lowered his finger, and soon as he do so she pounced, pulling him into the tightest hug she could administer.

"You couldn't get get rid of me even if you wanted to." He hugged her back. "Good, because I do not want to." She pulled back. It was now or never, and this maybe the only chance she has left. Braving up, y/n swallowed thickly. "Hey...erm, uh Levi...I-I love you, okay?"

Levi smirked, his eyes twinkling with something close to mischievousness. "I know...you, kind of...told me already." Y/n pulled back. "No I didn't." "Tch, you did, y/n." She rolled her eyes. "I think I would remember telling someone I love them."

Levi frowned. "Are you calling me a liar?" Y/n laughed sharply. "Well, I'm not calling you a truther." She turned and began to walk away. "Even if I did, you could at least say it back you jerk!"

With reflexes faster than a blink of an eye, Levi had pulled her back and into his arms. She stared at him, wide eyed. They were mere inches apart now. Never had she been this close to him, and she could clearly see every inch of his face. The silver twinkle of his eyes, his long lashes, the pretty pink of his thin lips. He was so beautiful, like a statue of a god. Y/n blinked, realizing she had been staring a bit longer than innocent and met his gaze.

Levi only raised a brow, seemingly unaffected by their closeness. "I love you too, brat." He said finally, and Y/n relaxed into his arms, much like before. "Good, good. It makes doing this a lot easier." She placed her hand to his cheek, closed her eyes and then she closed the gap.

He sighed into her, clutching her tighter to him. It seemed as if he had been waiting almost as long as y/n had because it was if the flood gates had opened. She dipped her head to get to more of him and he grunted softly, easily letting her. She reached up, finding his soft undercut. She ran her finger threw his soft locks (just as soft as she imagined) and gently tugged. Levi opened his mouth a bit more in response, and she quickly took advantage of his action. Her tongue slipped in, and despite himself and who he was- he gasped.

Maybe this was all a bit quick but hell, she'd been around the man for going on a year now with nothing but this to show. It was quite upsetting, especially because it seemed as if Levi had no idea his effect on women, especially y/n. You can bet on your life, however, she was going to take advantage of it now and teach him exactly what he meant.

He grunted again and pulled his arm to her neck, clutching it softly. She hummed into his mouth, biting his lip and pulling. She loved him, everything about him, and almost as much as that- she wanted him. Now, in almost every way she could've imagined, she had him.

She was so wrapped up in him, y/n put her unbraced leg around his waist, trying to get somehow even closer than before but unfortunately she neglected to remember that her braced leg couldn't handle that much pressure yet and it collapsed under their weight. It sent both her and her lover crashing to the ground.

"oof!" "Tch! Hell!" Levi landed on top of her with a thud. The two shared a look. Levi had messy unkept hair, flushed cheeks and red, abused lips- all thanks to y/n. But she doubted she looked much better. "Are you okay, brat?" "Yeah, sorry. Looks like you made my legs weak." She smiled crookedly.

Levi only sighed and lifted her up. "Tch', Keeping you alive will be much harder than I expected." Y/n laughed and wrapped her arms around him, she was beginning to enjoy him carrying her around bridal style. "What can I say? I wasn't built for the weak."

"No," He hoisted her closer to his chest. "No, you are not."

They resumed their journey to her room. "But at least you are mine, brat."

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A/n: whoo! That was a lot more than I expected to do. I hope y'all like it and don't forget that comments and critism are always welcomed. I tried to make this to where it doesn't really involve any timeline and it's just kind of an extra thing. Thanks for reading!

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[oumaheroes]

Afterlife

Word Count: 2229

Names:

Alba- Scotland

Cymru- Wales

Albion- England

Ériu- Ireland

Set in the same world as ‘Wind Walk’

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‘What happens when we die?’

Alba paused, halfway through carving a gouge in a block of wood to look over at Albion where he was stood by the fire, face turned to the flames. He had his back to Alba, a roughly spun blanket draped over his shoulders which was made from thick, undyed wool that scratched but did the job. Cymru was getting the hang of making them now, able to weave in a few patterns if he had the time and the colours, but it was haphazard work and nothing fancy at all. They were sometimes able to trade for nicer ones, ones with intricate designs of knots and swirls, charms woven into the fabric to dance across borders and seams, but food was more important, usually. Things they couldn’t catch or pick from the land, like bread.

Mama had never really praised overly nice things, or stressed their importance beyond a passing aesthetic appreciation, and so none of them were too concerned that their everyday clothes were dull and shapeless. Their nicer things Alba kept in a bag at all times near his person- golden armlets and bracelets folded in the plaid of their family woven by Mama herself to show them as children of the earth, Gods amongst men. Rich colours and bold patterns that Cymru eyed with greedy wonder.

Alba saved these for when they visited their people, the scatterings of them spread across the island that bore them. He was thankful that he and his siblings didn’t really grow.

‘What do you mean?’

Albion hesitated, mouth pressing into a tight line before opening again to speak, ‘When we die. Because people…’ Albion shifted, casting a quick glance back to him before turning once again to the fire, ‘humans don’t come back, do they?’

Alba, gave up on whittling anything further and sat up straighter, left hand holding what would one day be a bowl resting on his knee, ‘No, they don’t.’

He looked about their camp from his spot on the floor, back pressed again the trunk of a large tree they’d pitched their shelter against. Despite it being night Cymru was off somewhere, away on one of his walks that sometimes took him for days and there was no telling when he’d be back. This time Alba wasn’t too sure what had caused him to need space, the air was calm and friendly amongst them all, but Cymru had grown silent and still regardless and Alba had followed him with watchful eyes until he had taken himself away, seeing him retreat to the West where he could feel him linger on the edge of his perception.

He was the one that usually had these conversations, the ones where there wasn’t a clear answer, or a kind answer. Cymru could mould the truth into something palatable, something easy to understand and swallow without it becoming a lie. These sorts of conversations were not Alba’s strength- he did not like things for which there was no answer, or no easy answer, and so either worked at them silently until there was one, or ignored it. Not all things needed to be understood or reasoned with, some things just were and it was easier in the end to accept that.

But Alba had a feeling that Albion was leading to one of those sorts of questions and he was going to have to be the one to answer it.

‘But we do come back,’ Albion continued on. He said it as a statement; the tone was unquestioning but also unsure and Alba cracked his knuckles on one hand with his thumb as he tried to read between what Albion was saying and what he might be leading up to.

‘Yes, we do.’

An unspoken ‘sometimes’ fell flat and awkward between them. Mama hadn’t come back.

Albion looked down at the ground and rolled a stone underneath his foot. He was barefoot, again, because he refused to stay in shoes for very long if he could help it, and he balanced the pebble under the ball of his foot, round and around.

‘What is it?’ Alba knew this had come out rougher than he had intended by the way Albion’s shoulders twitched, a sudden self-conscious jolt that made Alba click his tongue in regret and try again. He was still getting used to this, ‘What are you thinking about?’

Alba watch the curve of Albion’s brow furrow into a frown, light from the flames silhouetting him and making him appear older and unknown, ‘Do we turn human? When we die? Is that why Mama…’ he trailed off, no words needed.

‘No, we don’t,’ he said it confidently but really, Alba knew as much as anyone did. Which is to say, he knew nothing concrete at all. None of them truly knew what happened to Mama, although her disappearance was as sure and real to him as much as his own hand was. Mama wasn’t missing or elsewhere, she was gone. He felt it as a truth deep within him, somewhere ancient formed long before his time. No matter what Alba didn’t know, he knew this all too well, ‘we stay as we are. We fade, when our time comes.’

He could see that this reply brought more questions than it did answers and thought of a way to try and fill the gaps, ‘humans die from age or sickness, or injury. We die from other things.’

Albion turned around to face him fully, ‘Like what?’

‘By the Gods, what is it with you today? Why so many questions?’

Albion scowled and lightly kicked the pebble he was worrying away from the fire. It rolled somewhere to Alba’s left, landing by the roots of a small shrub. They both watched its progress, ‘doesn’t matter.’

Damn it. ‘Don’t be huffy, why’re you asking all of a sudden?’

Albion shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tensed under the blanket, pulling it tighter around him and huddling in on himself. He ducked his head to stare somewhere off and down, ‘You’ll laugh.’

‘No, I won’t,’ Alba was slightly offended, although it couldn’t say for sure that it was unwarranted. Maybe there had been times when he’d read his youngest brother wrong. Albion was often prickly and capricious and it was difficult to tell how he was truly feeling, hard to know whether he was hiding another truth under thorns.

Alba also wasn’t used to talking with him in such a way yet. Before Mama died, he could be a brother: tease Albion whenever he said something stupid, or fell over, or messed up. But now Alba had to be something more, had suddenly found himself thrust in a role he didn’t ask for and the shape of caregiver hung too large on him. He was trying to fill a space of parent for everyone but all he himself really wanted was for someone else to come and do it for him, for Mama to come back and fill it perfectly.

It was hard to know where to tread on a path you’ve never gone down before, especially one made by someone else.

Albion still looked unsure and as much as a large part of Alba was tempted to let it go, to take the easy option that was presented to him and move on with the evening, another, more stubborn, part wanted to prove Albion, and maybe himself, wrong, ‘I promise I won’t laugh. Now will you just spit it out?’

Albion remained staring somewhere at the ground between them, ‘what if-,’ he cut off, swallowing, ‘what if you die?’

There was a beat of silence in which a flurry of emotions coiled in Alba’s chest, ‘I will die. We all die.’

Albion pursed his lips tight together and blinked a few times in succession- too quick, ‘But I don’t- I don’t want you to.’

Alba’s throat felt thick suddenly, ‘Hey, come here.’

Albion refused to move, still studiously looking down at the ground and locked stubbornly in place, so Alba half stood to reach out and grab hold of the blanket and tug him closer. Albion stumbled at first, unwilling to allow himself to let go easily, but another tug had him near enough for Alba to wrap him in arms, falling back down into a sit with him. Once there, all pretence was dropped and Albion lifted his arms to curl them around Alba’s neck, chin coming to hook over his shoulder.

Alba shifted him to settle more comfortably on his lap, legs around his waist and blanket forgotten on the floor, and rubbed his back, holding him tight with his other arm. Albion’s hands gripped Alba’s tunic in a tight bunch, tugging it awkwardly askew around his back. They stayed there for a few moments, mostly silent and unmoving apart from the odd jolting repressed sob from Albion who still refused to give in completely.

After he’d calmed down, shaky breaths softening into regular breathing, Alba reached up to cup the back of his head and lightly ruffle his hair, ‘I’m not going anywhere any time soon.’

Albion sniffled and released one hold of Alba’s clothes to rub at his eyes, ‘How do you know?’

‘Because I do.’

Albion dropped his hand to once again grabbed hold of his tunic but looser, tugging and pulling at the fabric in a half-hearted distraction, and huffed, ‘That’s a stupid answer.’

Alba prodded him in the side, smiling when Albion twitched in surprise, ‘It’s the truth. I think Mama knew; we knew as well, didn’t we.’

Albion hmm’d, unwilling to agree. Alba knew he had noticed though, as small as he was. He had never fussed or questioned when she’d wandered away and left them, had never tried to follow her on her journeys alone. He had known, as they all had, that she was disappearing into time and a place no one could follow.

‘We are our people. We watch them and speak for them- we remember them,’ Alba shifted him and rested his cheek on the crown of Albion’s head, speaking into his hair, ‘when our people change, sometimes we can’t change with them. I think that’s what happened to Mama.’

Albion stayed silent. Alba could feel him thinking, sense him turning this over in his head to search for holes.

‘What brought this on?’ Alba tried again, gently. He felt Albion swallow against his shoulder.

‘Things feel more different now. Cymru goes away and sometimes I can’t feel where he goes. Ériu feels the most different and-‘ he paused for a moment, thinking, ‘humans feel different. Some I can’t feel them at all, I know they’re not mine now. So, I thought… what if…’

Alba raised his head and shrugged his shoulder for Albion to move off. He leant back, heavy in his lap, and Alba caught him by the chin to keep him from looking away, ‘Just because we’re growing apart now, doesn’t mean we’re going away,’ he smoothed a thumb under Albion’s eye before resting his hand on his neck, steady, ‘we’ll be different but we’ll still be here. You’ll know when it’s my time to go.’

Albion’s eyes slid to stare at Alba’s shoulder so he tapped him under the chin to get him to look back, ‘Alright? You’ll know.’

Albion gave a small nod, ‘yeah, okay.’

Alba eyed him critically, searching for anything lingering that he still wasn’t saying. Finding nothing and feeling satisfied that Albion had taken in what he’d said, Alba gave a moan and rubbed theatrically at his thighs, ‘Good, now get off- you’re heavy.’

Albion scowled, ‘No I’m not!’

‘By Gods you are, I can’t feel my legs.’

Albion shoved at his shoulder but stood, moving off to the side, ‘Maybe your legs are just weak.’

‘Maybe it’s all those raspberries you keep filching when you think I’m not looking.’

Albion coloured, ‘No it’s not!’

‘Must be, I did think you were looking rounder,’

Alba prodded Albion in the stomach and he scowled, swatting his hand away, ‘I’m not round!’

‘Well, you certainly ain’t a feather. Here,’ Alba picked up his block of wood and his carving knife and held them out to him, ‘help me work on this. It can be for you to carry the berries in rather than stuffing them in your shirt and staining everything.’

‘I don’t do that,’ Albion huffed but took the wood and tool anyway, sitting down next to him. Alba picked up the blanket and shook it out to shake off the dirt before draping it back around his shoulders.

‘Do you think I can’t tell? Stop grousing and hollow me out a hole, we can smooth it later.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Albion began to carve in the centre, widening the impressions Alba had made earlier.

Alba fished in his pocket for his hunting knife, ‘I’ll sharpen this and then go and check the rabbit traps.’

He leant behind him and around the tree for his travel bag, pulling it closer and rummaging about inside it for his whetstone.

‘Thanks.’

Albion’s voice was small and quiet- Alba probably wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t still been so alert to noise from him.

He prodded his brother on the arm with his knee and turned to carry on digging through his bag, ‘of course.’

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AN:

Another mini story that will be fleshed out for AO3 one day. Can you tell I’m procrastinating updating my other WIPs? Because I am and I am a cretin.

This is very self-indulgent with no historical accuracy or research whatsoever- please forgive me. If I go digging for historical truth, I fall into a rabbit hole and that is very difficult to peel myself out of.

Thanks for reading!

[carelesscreativity]

Crink Angst Ending ft. Bad Sans Poly

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(SFW, Angst)

Each strike was precise. Cross' brow was furrowed in concentration as he deflected arrow after arrow. Despite his best efforts, they were still pushing him back towards the snowy trees. He wasn't sure how he'd ended up facing Dream, but he didn't really have the option to complain. Blue wasn't too much of a fight for him and it was better than the third party. Cross' back hit the trunk of the tree and Dream cornered him.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Go in, spread a little chaos and then leave, but the Star Sanses must've had this AU on lock because they'd arrived much faster than the Bad Sanses had anticipated. They were still in Snowdin, having not even reached Waterfall yet. They could only fight them as they waited for the backup (Error and Nightmare) to arrive. A blaster activated, startling both Dream and Cross. The overpowered, somewhat purple beam of light that decimated the ground between them was clearly Dust's, but it had carried something over. Someone over.

Cross felt his body freeze up as he saw Ink, the artist stumbling to his feet with a small laugh as the incinerated parts of his body began to bubble back. He glanced to the side and met Cross' wide eyes. His eyes shifted shapes to a yellow star and a pink heart. He turned to Dream with a smile, summoning his paintbrush. "Mind if we switch?" Dream scoffed and went to go apprehend Dust. That left Cross alone with Ink.

Ink's smile faltered as Dream disappeared and he turned to Cross, his eyelights changing to a yellow star and a blue raindrop. There was silence between them for what felt like an uncomfortably long time. Neither of them moved before Ink made the first move. "C..." He managed quietly. Cross stopped him, saying that he shouldn't call him that anymore. His blade shook slightly as he pointed it at him before lowering it. He stood up straight and moved away from the tree, starting to stride past Ink. He jumped as his shirt was snagged and he froze. He wouldn't look back.

"Ink, please." He said, his firm voice only having the tiniest hint of a waver. "We... can't go back." When there was no answer and Ink had yet to let go of him, Cross finally turned to face him. "You made your choice and I made mine." Ink released the shirt as Cross turned around. Cross couldn't help but pause upon seeing Ink. He'd never seen the carefree guardian look like that. Both eyelights were blue and his shoulders were sunken as he stared at him. "Ink..." Cross' voice was little more strangled than he would've liked. "Please... don't look like that."

"Look like what?" Ink asked. His voice was a little strained as well, his eyelights finally moving away from Cross to look at the ground. Though the shapes did change every time he blinked, they continued to remain that dreary blue. "Is it bad? I'm not sure what I look like right now, but I can only assume it's not good." Cross watched in confusion and then dismay as Ink's sockets watered. He'd never seen Ink cry either. He blinked as another blast rocked the town and the snow from the tree he'd been under fell, some landing on Ink. He didn't seem to notice or if he did, he wasn't showing it.

It was a pitiful sight, Ink seemingly struggling not to cry as his body began to shiver from being covered in snow. The other had long let his oversized paintbrush drop to his side. Cross felt his soul squeeze. Ink seemed confused at himself and it struck Cross that maybe Ink had never felt this intensely before. He watched as those blue eyes made their way up to meet his again and the next blink brought that one heart-shaped eyelight again. It sent a pang through his chest.

He gulped and looked back, knowing that he could potentially be in quite a bit of trouble for being seen with the enemy like this. Ink finally spoke. "We were here before. I-It was a really long time ago, so I don't expect you to remember. I took you here and we spent our time in Waterfall, among the echo flowers. You pushed me into the river when I annoyed you..." He gave a weak laugh. "I-I'm not sure how I remember that... M-Maybe it's written on my scarf??" He began to pull the fabric up, his hands shaking.

Cross was paused. He did remember that. Ink had popped up out of the river with such a loud, boisterous laugh that it had startled him. His soul ached again. Ink was still searching his scarf, weakly pulling the fabric and searching. He was becoming more and more confused and distraught trying to find it. His eyelights were shooting through so many shapes per second. Cross finally stabbed his blade into the ground and moved back towards him, unable to keep seeing Ink like this. Ink seemed startled, dropping his scarf and taking a step back.

Warmth suddenly enveloped him and Ink had to take moment to process that he was being hugged. Hugs were always so strange to Ink. He paused before slowly wrapping his arms around Cross in response. Another blast shook the ground and for a moment, Cross felt Ink press into him as he startled. It was just like how he remembered. He finally pulled back a little, looking down at Ink. The other wouldn't look up, even when Cross said his name. Finally, the soldier reached down and lifted his chin.

He paused. Translucent tears streamed down Ink's cheeks, only flashes of rainbow seen in the clear liquid. Cross' eyes were wide and he cupped Ink's cheek, using his thumb to try and wipe them away. "I-It's wet?" Ink asked after a moment, furrowing his brow. Cross' soul sank and he told Ink quietly that he was crying. "A-Am I??" Ink seemed genuinely surprised and reached up, wiping at his own cheeks. "That means sadness, doesn't it? I'm sad?" Cross knew Ink had a lot of trouble distinguishing that. He asked what he thought he felt. Ink furrowed his brow.

"My chest is heavy inside. Everything feels too tight and I think I'm shaking a lot. I... I think it's painful?" He really didn't seem like he was sure. "It happens when I look at you. And think of you." Cross stared at him in quiet dismay. "I-I think I miss you. I miss you a lot." Ink's bluntness never failed to take Cross back, but this time, all he felt was another pang. He pulled Ink close again and the other seemed to accept, hugging him back. "I asked Dream what it was and he said I was experiencing grief. But that's when someone dies, isn't it?"

Cross had started instinctively rubbing Ink's back without realizing, saying quietly that that wasn't always the case. Ink fell quiet and Cross could practically feel him trying to make sense of that. "Would it make you feel better to know that I miss you too?" Cross' voice was quiet and he felt Ink's grip on him slightly tighten after a moment as he nodded. Cross kept glancing around for any hints of the Bad Guys or the Stars. He didn't want either of them in trouble for this. "We can't go back, Ink. We made our choices."

"I-I know that... I was just wondering why I felt like this... Why I'm grieving even though you aren't dead." Ink's voice was weak and confused. "It's odd. Usually, I'm excited to feel new things, but this... I don't like this..." Cross nodded. He understood that it was difficult for Ink to get. Being soulless while experiencing nostalgia and grief couldn't have been fun. He continued to rub his back. He moved them back into the tree line to keep them hidden, dissipating his knife from where it had been stuck in the ground in the clearing.

Ink clung to him the entire time. "Cross?" The soldier looked down at Ink in surprise, knowing it must be important if Ink was using his full name. "Can I have one more kiss?" Cross froze and stared down at him with wide eyes. Ink stared back up at him. "That's all I'm asking for. Nothing more. I just... want something. Like when you comforted me when I was injured. It made me feel good." Cross remembered. The small kisses he would give Ink as he healed him. The way Ink would fluster without realizing. The thought almost brought a smile back to his face. Almost.

"One more." He said quietly. Ink blinked and looked up at him with wide eyes. He hadn't been expecting Cross to agree. At the very least, he'd just expected him to say no. Ink pressed against him and Cross leaned down, gently pressing their teeth together. It was soft, tender and exactly how Ink remembered it. His body filled with warmth from the area where his soul would have been. He habitually wrapped his arms up around Cross' neck and he felt the other's hands rest on his hips in response. He didn't know why, but his sockets suddenly burned and he had to pull away as he screwed them shut.

Cross pulled Ink back into the hug and watched as a cascade of tears erupted down Ink's face and he inhaled shakily. "I-I don't... What's...?" He hiccuped and Cross understood. He lowered them both to the ground on their knees and Ink leaned against him, still trying to pull together enough of a sentence to ask what was happening to him.

"Ink." The artist looked up at Cross with wide, teary eyes as the soldier spoke and Cross sighed. "Just relax yourself and cry." Cry? Hadn't Ink already been crying? He furrowed his brow, but did as Cross said, relaxing himself. However, the second he did so, a sob tore itself from his throat. While he was startled, he couldn't stop himself and Ink quickly became overwhelmed, starting to cry. His sobs even sounded confused. He was trying to stop them, but Cross placed a hand on his back, telling him to just let it out.

Ink stopped trying to contain it and buried himself against Cross, hiccuping. Cross noticed a dark figure out of the corner of his eye and he glanced over. Nightmare watched them quietly. Cross' body tensed a little, but this was a FAR better alternative than any of the others finding him like this. Nightmare seemed docile and Cross could tell he was sensing their emotions. The king had never felt pain and sorrow from Ink before. He'd never felt anything this strong from Ink before. Still, the darker gestured to Ink with a raised brow.

Cross mouthed that he needed a few minutes. That Ink had been experiencing grief without even realizing what it was. He paused before managing to mouth that he felt this was them saying their final goodbyes. Nightmare nodded, keeping quiet. Cross was relieved. If anyone would understand, it was Nightmare. He would know that this wasn't Cross betraying them. He was devoted to them, but Nightmare knew he wouldn't be able to let Ink suffer like that by himself. Nightmare signed for Cross to come back once he was ready.

Cross relaxed and nodded. The entire time, Ink had been sobbing into his chest, his mind a whirlwind as he tried to process what he was feeling. Nightmare disappeared and Cross returned to rubbing Ink's back and comforting him again. He moved to lean back against a tree, pulling the other with him. He couldn't stay like this forever. They couldn't stay like this forever. But he wanted to be there for Ink now. Like he had been then.

One final bit of time together. Then maybe they could both let go.

[justmaybee]

I Want to ‘Hold’ Your Hand

Summary: Venti really has—what—ticklish palms? What does that even mean? Well, he’ll happily show Xiao.

A/N: Whoo, finally. This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks. I just feel like everything I write is gross until I forget about it and can read it with new eyes. Any tips for that? Anyway, hope my first attempt at Xiaoven isn’t too off! Enjoy!

Spoilers for Mondstat Storyline

It’s a warm night—as far as nights in Liyue go—though there’s a persistent breeze that keeps the air from getting too humid or heavy. Xiao can’t say it’s a coincidence.

Barba— Venti, who sits across from him, made that clear when Xiao gave a passing comment on the heat. Perks of the Anemo Archon, he supposes.

When Venti suggested that Xiao make the trip to Mondstat to ‘catch up,’ Xiao had to decline. A day’s notice was far too short to make preparations, and a trip to the City of Freedom didn’t ‘free’ him of his duties to Liyue.

So when Venti showed up, unannounced, at Wangshu Inn asking for an adeptus—

Luckily Xiao was able to pick out his voice quickly, and drag him off to a quieter space, away from people.

The small parlor by the top of the inn is usually empty. Xiao doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone lounging at the table they have set there, not that he’s ever really kept an eye out. That made it the perfect spot for him to take his ‘surprise visitor.’

And though the arrival was — unexpected, something about Venti’s pleasant smile, after being rushed up a flight of stairs without so much as a greeting, is — calming.

The tension in Xiao’s shoulders disappears about as quickly as it came. And before long, they’re wrapped up in conversation. One would think that over centuries it would be easy to run out of things to talk about. But no, that’s never been the case. Not with Venti.

The unfortunate addendum to that is the fact that conversation often veers into the most strange and off-topic things.

“Your palms are...what?”

Venti giggles, Xiao doesn’t know if it’s at him or not. He doesn’t ask.

“My palms are ticklish. It’s weird. I don’t know how I never knew that before!”

Xiao doesn’t know why he knows this now, or why anyone would be expected to know that. He doesn’t even know what Venti means entirely.

“How can your palms be ticklish?”

Venti laughs again, bright and bubbly, almost certainly at Xiao now.

“Like this!”

And just like that, Venti has Xiao’s hand in his own. He’s got it facing palm up and he gives no warning before sliding his fingertips from the bottom up.

It — ah, what.

There’s no conscious thought behind it, but Xiao’s hand clams up immediately. An unexpected noise tangles in his throat, getting partially out before he can bottle it.

For the first time since he brought Venti up, all he can hear is the whistle of the wind.

“No way.”

Xiao sees Venti’s sparkling eyes for a second before they’re glued to Xiao’s hand. He tries to pry it back open, but with Xiao consciously clenching his fist, there’s no chance Venti would be able to do it. Not unless he wanted to drop the bard act and start some rumors in Liyue.

When this becomes clear to Venti, he changes tactics, peering back at Xiao, eyes big and lips pouting.

As if Xiao hasn’t been exposed to that for decades. He stares back, unfazed.

Venti groans, tugging at Xiao’s hand in his. “Come on, Xiao! I thought you wanted to know what I meant! Please? Just a little?”

His voice is whiny, pleading and child-like, and Xiao must once again remind himself that archons come in all forms.

And yet—

It’s — somewhat frustrating. He holds no contracts with this god but—

Venti keeps staring, eyes stubborn and bright.

Xiao’s fist slowly relaxes.

Venti doesn’t seem to believe it at first, but the titter of laughter that bursts in the air shows he’s pleased. It also leads Xiao to believe this is the opposite of a good idea.

This time he takes Xiao’s hand in both of his, resting his own on the table top. Xiao can already feel the muscles in his arm tensing up, but—

Venti rubs his thumbs into the base of his hand, moving up and out. The motion repeats, stretching along the bottom of his hand and out towards the sides. He massages in a circular motion across the skin, smoothing it out with firm strokes of his fingers.

It’s nice.

It’s so nice that when the massage starts turning into something else, Xiao doesn’t pick up on it right away.

The touches become lighter, less rubbing into the skin and more skimming on top of it.

Then he changes positions, resting Xiao’s hand on top one of his while the other brushes along the lines of his palm.

His hand is lax from the massage, but Xiao can feel pinpricks of tingling sensation start to bloom. Feeling that makes his fingers curl up a fraction. Venti smoothes them back down.

His fingers persist, tracing the lines in his skin and then making his own. Swirling shapes and symbols onto the canvas of Xiao’s palm with a small smile of his face.

Xiao...can feel it growing. The tingling feeling from before, almost like when his uses his vision. A light prickle at the end of his arm accompanied by a coolness from the wind.

This is just — more. More tingling, a feeling that sparks in his palm and trickles up his arm. It’s also different, because it’s not cool. If anything, it’s warm. He can feel it in the building tightness of his arm, in the heat by his neck.

He feels a pull at his lip. He bites back before it can be seen.

Venti keeps going, light brushes that leave no space untouched. Focus that goes over and over the places that make his fingers twitch.

Eventually Xiao finds himself pressing his face into his other arm, flat on the table. He’s hardly moved and yet he breathes heavily through his nose. His arm is tense, buzzing with built up sensation, but his hand remains open.

Venti stops for a moment. Xiao takes a shaky breath. Then he scribbles all four of his fingers, short nails and all, from the bottom to the top of Xiao’s palm, a wavy waterfall motion.

Finally, Xiao’s hand curls up, catching Venti’s fingers in his own.

His head jerks up from the table, a breathy ‘s-stohop’ falling his lips.

In looking back at Venti, still lost for breath, Xiao finds him staring back. His gaze is locked on, equal parts fond and mischievous. It makes Xiao’s throat tighten up, makes the hairs of his neck stand on edge.

It’s a good thing his self-defense skills have been honed over centuries.

He puts his hand out, cupping it distinctively. He’s looking to hold something, not offer himself up for more of the bard’s demonstration.

Venti looks confused for a moment. Xiao pointedly looks at his hand.

“It’s only fair.”

Then it clicks, and Venti laughs, pulling his hand out of Xiao’s before placing it—palm up—in his outstretched one.

Xiao quickly finds that Venti shows no restraint in his reactions, though that would be expected of the God of Freedom.

His giggles float like a song on the wind, light and airy to the ear. He cushions his cheek on his arm, eyes shut as he laughs. He can’t see the small smile that slips its way onto Xiao’s face as he marks listless characters onto Venti’s inviting hand.

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

New York High Rise {1}

Chapter summary; During all your years as the most successful mob boss of New York, no-one have ever dared to seriously battle for the crown with you. Up until now. Steven Grant Rogers, son of the infamous mob boss Joseph Rogers, has suddenly chosen you as his rival. Who will be winning in the end?

Pairing: Steve x reader  

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 1/5

Word; 5.9k

Warnings; swearing is standard in my works, mentions of canon-type violence 

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I actually started this series on a whim and all of a sudden ended up having four chapters. I really love it for some reason, maybe because it such a powerplay and I’m a hoe for that trope, especially when it’s a enemies to lovers story. Anyhow, enough of my rambling, I hope you guys enjoy this little mid week update! PSA: If you want to be tagged in the series, jus send me an ask!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Golden chains and champagne. Fancy watches and whiskey on the rocks. Whatever related to the word expensive you were associated with. Although, unlike many others in your business, you hadn't grown up in this world of luxury, nor had you inherited the empire you now were the boss of, enabling you to live the extravagance life you did. No, you were one of the few who'd worked their ass off to earn every last thing you owned.

By most, your efforts looked like a great business mind and some luck. How else could you've become a multi-millionaire on investing in stocks? But to others, those knowing the flipside of the coin, they knew your success in capitals was nothing but a cover for your stealthy work in the shadows. It was a dance, one with feline grace, that you'd performed to reach your position. A status meaning you were one of the most famous mob bosses in New York City.

When hearing mafia, most would think of the old Italian image of people smoking cigars in fedoras, with some moustache that looked similar to pencil lines on their upper lip. Those who owned cities and the whole country knew of it but could do nothing about it.

Perhaps some of these stereotypes suited the older godfathers of New York, who sat proudly on their pedestals and watched the world pass by. But you were different from them. You didn't just watch the world continue and progress by itself. You moved along with it.

You were the new generation.

Compared to the godfathers, who every last person in New York and the bordering states knew off, you had two faces. One you showed the public and one you ruled the underworld with. To society, you were spotless, a name associated with nothing but a sharp mind and benevolence to the public. But you were at the top in the underworld syndicate, the biggest of the biggest. Yet, you didn't rule with fear, simply that of uttermost respect and earned trust. In other words, your reputation or connections weren't bought. They were deserved.

Thus, compared to the older generations, your face could be recognised by a civilian or someone from the underworld, none thinking about calling the police or betraying your trust. You owned the city without it even knowing it.

It was from the way you'd reached this top in stunning silence, together with the grace you played everyone with, that you and your empire earned the alias felines. Like a tiger cub who grew into an adult, your empire was once the smallest but now the biggest. Like a lion, you evoke respect and awe no matter where you went. Like a cat no one cared about, you could cross the streets without an issue in public.

Some of the elders, at least those who were your allies, had expressed their concern of your brassiness. 'Why play cat and mouse with fate?' they often said. But you always answered the same 'I am the cat'. And it was true. Despite some of those opposed to your methods, or just you in general, took the chances they could at picking you off the map. No one ever succeeded. Solely for one reason.

Now, you deemed agreeing to one of your first ever business deals the best choice you ever made. Although it meant you financed some of the worlds leading underground tech corporation with quite some substantial coin, the panthers were nowadays always watching over you. They lingered in the shadows, disarming every try at putting a bullet through your skull.

Albeit not as famous as yourself or the organisation you ran, the Black Panther Operation the sibling pair T'Challa and Shuri operated was, in no shape or form, not impressive. They'd established themselves as the leading organisation, even if not known by half of the people in New York, in the tech area. Not only were they invaluable to the numerous politicians wanting them to work under the radar to get the upper hand on sovereign states, but they also were to you.

They hadn't only supplied you with their physical protection of their elite bodyguards, the Dora Milaje or in common-tongue known as the shadow panthers, but their tech as well. Although, compared to anyone who would've been in your position and chosen the weapons or impenetrable bodysuit that Shuri, ever the genius she was, had invented, you'd chosen one of the other assets. The cloud, the internet.

Hackers were the way forwards compared to warriors. They were the weapon of keeping you one step ahead of anyone by supplying you with the information needed to be able to hold someone's life in your hands.

It was only to look back at the countless occasions anyone tried to persuade you into a business deal you would do nothing but lose at. Thanks to Shuri having dug out the facts that could bring any of your rivals down in the dumps, you'd walked victorious away anyways.

You were certain any of the other godfathers would've killed someone for even thinking, no less trying, to propose a disreputable arrangement with them in the first place. Yet, you knew how much one ever could make a death look like a self-caused accident, that in the end, people would start to wonder why it happened to people of the same background, connected to one and the same empire. However, the former generations didn't really care about bad publicity anyway, so why would they care about lining the street with dead bodies? But the difference was you weren't them.

By all means, some would say your ways was far more torturous than a bullet between the eyes. You wouldn't agree or disagree, only say it was just. Involving a legal and judicial battle was the new way of handling conflicts, after all. It was more efficient than having to wash the blood of your name all the time, according to you. Not only that, you gained a lot more than just a dead body.

You were in somewhat of partnership with most bosses around the city. Those you weren't, rather those you'd only settled a deal with that said "as long as you kept to each of your own territory nothing would happen", did try to bend the rules and use the terror tacit. Either they targeted you personally or something equally as important in your part of the city. It could be anything that would get to you, really. But, no matter what they did, they tried to not do it themselves. Instead, hire a hitman or someone equally as bad. The problem with this was that these people's records were far from innocent, something you used to your advantage.

If you tasked Shuri to find anything and everything these people had done, it was easy to find a person they'd wronged and who sought revenge or justification. The only thing you did was play your hand well, usually meaning you pulled some strings and supply the money. While T'Challa, as the expert he was on it, handed out the information his sister had gathered to reliable sources. Your collaboration made the person you hunted sit opposite someone from their past in a courtroom. Most of the times, they also lost the case.

Choosing to do this rather than go rampage and fire your gun aimlessly meant you settled as a second, or sometimes even third or four-hand source to what went down. So not only did your name remain clear despite answering a rivals offence, your involvement was nearly impossible to track as well. Thus, you could take down five of a rivals' men while they only took one of yours.

Despite one could call you out on hypocrisy, saying that the shadow panthers protecting you didn't own the same benevolence and were quick and silent in their killing, there was one reason you didn't care about the fact. Currently, they may be under a shared command, but their never-ending allegiance was always towards the founders of the Black Panther Operation. If either Shuri or T'Challa said stand back or decided to cut their deal with you, the shadow panther's protection would disappear. The same went if you chose to rip the contract.

However, it was a slim chance that either of the siblings or you would terminate your arrangement. Seeing how now, years later, you still were the sole person working a continuous agreement with them. That was why nowadays, your and theirs organisations were nearly associated as the same by most in the underworld.

Your style of ruling New York and living such different lives in the light and dark made others in your profession joke you were the sole one with an ordinary life. That you were no traditional mafia, simply a highly functioning business-orientated company that invested in stocks. However, both you and everyone around you knew that wasn't true. The reason? You weren't afraid to use every last of your assets to remain in control of your empire. Whatever it took.

And that was a promise someone the last months had put up to the test.

You don't know what set it off, perhaps the old saying of cats and dogs never working well together. Or that because you were at the top drew enough confidence out of someone to try and knock you down. For whatever reason, someone decided to start a ruckus with you.

It had begun small enough you had no idea that someone was behind it. Connections or deals with companies connected to your empire backing out of contracts in the last seconds, saying they got a better offer. The word secrecy, frequently used for ones own safety in the world you lived in, was a term you'd heard enough times by now to grow tired of. It was no significant agreements, seeing how you were well enough to not care about money, but it was plenty bothersome for your pride.

The next step in the escalation had been dealings slightly more important than a question of money, which was your territory and thereby also safety. You still had some meetings with a few godfathers, had fore some time actually. It was mostly those who once had opposed you in the days you weren't a threat or those who just tried to live secludedly enough that they died by natural causes rather than in a cell or from rivalry.

Each of those conferences had been about securing your grip on Manhattan. Primarily to obtain some neighbourhoods closest to Harlem Park and the northern part of the Inwood neighbourhood. Both of which currently was in some sort of grey zone. Meaning neither owned by them nor you. Although those areas were still not written as yours, concerning how those old bosses abruptly didn't seem to want to seal any deals that they weeks ago had agreed on.

Then you'd entered the third stage. The one that made you understand all these cancellations wasn't merely coincidence, but somebody working against you. People from both your closest crew and the Black Panther section had been disappearing. It wasn't uncommon. Your business was nothing but personal feelings and wants most of the times. However, concerning how few men and women you'd lost under your watch, this sudden increase was off-putting.

Closer to the truth was something like this had never happened to this extent before. You hadn't had people close to you or anyone associated with you abducted. However, the worst thing was that the bodies of those disappearing were never not found bloody or in a morgue.

Money or failing to persuade old godfathers wasn't something you took personal, but when people started dropping like flies around you, that you took personally. Hence, you, Shuri and T'Challa worked endlessly on finding who was behind it.

Almost every time, you found the culprit of the act, but not the big boss behind it all. Disabling you from taking more than one person out of play. That your jaw hadn't broken for how much you'd clenched it in frustration, or your teeth shattered from the amount you gritted them was a mystery. You hunted the person ordering these things, yet with no success.

Although one day, when one of the subordinates in your very own team had been missing for a week returned, barely clinging to their consciousness, you'd gotten to know who this new rival of yours was.

Steven Grant Rogers.

The canines, an alias for the Rogers family, were equally known as any of the old US President in the underworld in New York. If one hadn't heard of them in your profession, it was more likely that you already were dead or not in it all because they were notorious.

They'd ruled Brooklyn with an iron fist and was probably the crown specimen of the reputation that accompanied the word mafia. There was a grace in their affairs and killing. But compared to your work, which was performed in shadows and silence, they flaunted it, not scared of running from the police because they already knew they never would be caught.

From what you knew, they'd fallen off somewhat after Joseph Rogers, the head of the Canine Empire, died in one of the rivalries between mobs. His death had been years before you were even born, close to an age it was as high of a chance he could've passed from natural causes. Still, the commotion and continuous dispute following his disappearance and the unclear leadership had served as a fall for the Canine Empire. There was no doubt your rise to the same amount of power as the former union possessed would've been as easy if you'd had them as your opponents.

However, now, it seemed like the past would haunt you down in the form of Joseph Rogers son.

Albeit you never met the new boss of the Canines, there was no doubt you considered, for the first time, to personally put a bullet through someone's head. Steven Grant Rogers was as ruthless as stories told his father had been. He'd even been labelled the golden boy of Brooklyn, rumoured to restore the brutal power of the Canine Empire. Yet, the spot he was reaching for with old alliances regrouping to boost him to the top was a position you currently occupied.

This is where the difference between if you'd had a regular business organisation and the domain you now did, settled in. You went on total offense.

You contacted T'Challa and Shuri, calling them in for a meeting. Even though the pair knew of what had happened so far, they were your partners and thus, you would discuss the actions you would take with them, even if your deal said nothing of that sort. But you knew, compared to your rival, it seemed, how important it was to hold onto your closest allies with other methods than fear and the threat of death. And thus, you also received the help of a friend rather than a business partner.

It must've been the bloodiest month in the last decade from the rivalry that blossomed up between the Felines and Canines the second you started to answer the new top dog's advances. You got reports that the shadow panthers watching your back had cleared more people putting you up as a target than in a long time. As well, did more of the people under your name end up red in back allies.

Then it shifted. As soon as you started getting trails of more people than just the executioners, you were suddenly able to take out divisions of his minions. And while the killing went on, you started winning the big battles. In other words, while Steven continued to play it hard, you started to play smart.

You cut off deals he could do in Brooklyn, much harsher and unforgiving than his initials ones on your side of the East River. It was everything from supplies, to money, to the extra set of eyes. Everything to limit him to sources you knew he wouldn't be happy with having to resort to. While handling this, with the help from Shuri, you also broadened your search to find every little dirty-worker under the mob boss's command. Thanks to those now operating for you on the Brooklyn side, you helped people who'd had a past with Steven's men tip police of and capture them.

Pawn by pawn, you lessened the number of ways the Canine boss could run in taking down your empire. You had him cornered, already several moves ahead of him whatever he chose to do. Only, it was one step you thought he never would do that, in the end, made everything come to a skidding halt.

He'd requested a parley.

"Y'know I don't really like the idea of you meeting him", you didn't look up from the papers you currently were reading to look at Shuri where she lounged on your office's couch.

Though it felt like you should examine the folder that rested in your handbag     -the one containing the event plans for the charity event you would host for the many high society individuals and governors, or anyone with money really, in two weeks- those documents weren't the ones you were looking through now.

It was five days ago since Steven had asked for the parlay. Ever since then, you'd worked on the deal you would offer him. You had no desire to sign whatever he would hand to you. And you knew he would propose something. The Canine boss was the challenger, after all. Even more so, the one requesting a meeting from the start. Thus, he, for one, would offer something to cease your continuous confrontations and two, he would try to drag you down while elevating himself. That you couldn't have.

"I know", you finally responded when having read the side you were on in the contract you had put together for your rival. "Still, I want to hear what the man has to say so I can stop losing resources, time and people", you turned to the next page as you said this.

There came no response immediately despite that you felt Shuri was looking at you. You'd gotten good at noticing this, someone observing you. Hence, even though the best of the panthers always were safeguarding you somewhere in the crowds, it never hurt to not solely depend on others for your own safety. Because that was what your constantly high attentiveness was for anyways. To always be keen on your surroundings and try to detect someone's move before they did it.

"It's almost interesting to see someone challenge you for the position of being the big boss, Lekati", it wasn't only at the reserved nickname Shuri used that caught your attention. The rest of what she'd said also made you pause mid-turn of the last page, eyes automatically shifting to her.

Now, instead of sprawling across the piece of furniture the women occupied, she sat upright with a smile ghosting her lips. Your eyes narrowed as you noted this.

"Oh, stop imagining using your sharp claws on me".

"I wasn't".

"You're a bad liar when you want to be", the tech mogul pointed out with a finger directed towards you. Your features stayed indifferent despite the fact that her remark had been correct.

"When will your brother be back?" The dark-haired women cocked a brow at your sudden change of topic.

"Any minute, I suppose, why?"

"He's more pleasant to have around while I try to work, less chatty", an incredulous snort left Shuri as she crossed her arms, leaning back against the couch's backside. Her reaction made your stoic facade drop somewhat, causing the side of your mouth to tug upwards. It was an act she caught and couldn't help but shake her head at.

"I never get tired of not knowing whether you're about to send half of the city after me or simply are in a playing mood", your repressed smile bloomed into a fully-fledged one, amused by Shuri's comment.

"Opt for the latter for as long as those couple of hundred thousand dollars are rolling into your account". Averting your eyes from the women you were speaking to, you once again inspected the bunch of papers before you. 

Having worked on them for days and ever since this morning re-reading the contract, you knew it was worded to perfection. There were no loopholes nor any unnecessary losses for either part. So, for as long as Steven didn't belong to the old saying of 'it’s hard to learn an old dog to sit', you knew his signature would decorate the last page. 

"However, you should worry about the day when the money is missing", you hummed while stacking the papers orderly, putting them back into the same folder they'd been stored since you'd gotten the paper copies of the transcript.

"Would that be my sign to start running?" You looked up again, instantly meeting Shuri's humoured look.

"It would probably be too late", you shrugged nonchalantly, placing the folder you would have to the meeting in your handbag in a swift motion while swivelling your chair to face her, rather than your desk as you'd done previously. As a chuckle was heard from the dark-haired woman, you crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in your seat.

"It's good that I'm your ally and not your foe".

"Good to hear you view yourself as a friend. Was fearing you would switch sides to my challenger's", you mused, arms coming to prop up against your armrest to support your head when you tilted it.

"I never would, even if I knew he had a chance to win", even though feeling somewhat relieved - because this world and one's alliances could change fast, no matter current contracts or friendships- when Shuri said this, you wouldn't show it. Therefore, instead of smiling at her belief that Steven had no chance of beating you at a game you had been the best player at for years, you simply kept observing the woman as she stood from the couch.

The young tech mogul started to make her way closer to you, a slight sheerness in her step that impersonated the glint in her eye. And you understood why for when she opened her mouth to speak.

"But you can't deny it's interesting someone is seriously trying to take you down", you rolled your eyes while you let your hand fall to tap against your thigh.

"Seems like you're more excited about it than me", you started, spinning your chair slowly to follow Shuri as she settled partly on the empty edge of your desk. She looked expectantly at you, waiting for an answer despite your deflection of it initially. For once, purely because of the topic, you complied. "But no, I definitely do not find it interesting", you sighed out.

"Oh, come on, Lekati...".

"Stop with the nickname", you cut her off with a roll of your eyes. However, instead of earning the quick nod of confirmation to follow your exasperated order, the dark-haired women grinned. Perhaps if it was anyone else than Shuri, you would've been irritated and sent them out of your office, but concerning you viewed her more as a friend than a simple job partner, you did neither when her teasing continued.

"Has the dog really gotten that much under your skin?" She chuckled. "Must be the first one... ever. Or correct me if I'm wrong?" You simply dropped your head and shook it. The young women were right and she knew she was. Steven was the sole one able to make you nearly lose your footing ever since claiming the crown of the underworld.

"Why couldn't he just stay put?" You mumbled under your breath, thumb smoothing out the wrinkles having settled between your brows. "We'd never heard of him before. Why decide to make himself known now all of a sudden? After years of silence?"

"Some men seek the satisfaction of bringing entities down, especially if they ruled it before and now it's overtaken by a woman", you looked up at Shuri. But instead of meeting her gaze, your eyes fell to the piece of paper she held up. Evidently, she'd plucked your Cartier pen and a sticky note from the stack always resting on your desk and written three letters on the piece of paper while you spoke. You, it stood on it.

"Thank you for the flattery", you replied, reaching forward to snatch the note from her. "But I would've prefered if Rogers hadn't, would spare me the task of crushing his ego", the brown-eyed women chuckled at that.

"Maybe he needs to take yours down a step or two too", you stood from your chair as she said this, dropping the slightly crumpled note you'd taken from her into the bin under your desk, then starting to head towards the mirror you had in your office.

"I don't have an ego. I simply know my self-worth".

"Sounds a lot like you're bordering on narcissism", she said in a sing-song voice. "Maybe you and his pride can go on a date. I bet they would rule New York happily ever after", you couldn't suppress a chuckle at Shuri's words, whether you wanted to show how absolutely hilariously unbelievable it was or not.

"Can't your brother come and save me from your antics?" You muttered, spotting the smile the genius behind you sported in the mirror. It was meant for her to hear, so you weren't shocked when she responded to the banter.

"I actually prefer his absence. The two of you together nearly drown me in the seriousness", Shuri complained dramatically. You amusedly rolled your eyes before settling to look at your chosen attire.

Compared to how far away you stood from tradition in the godfather's senses, it was one custom you fulfilled like the rest of them. You believed that the clothes made the man. And, for a meeting like the one you soon would go to, you didn't hesitate to strive for that effect.

You knew Steven was old fashioned. Everything he did cried it. So, of course, you would try to throw him off at every point you could. The skirt and dress were switched out for a suit, midnight black. It was a loose fit and probably matched the high-end fashion more than traditional meeting standards, but you didn't genuinely worry. You were here to show you are the new generation and wouldn't budge because you were the sole women in New York running a syndicate. Doing the best job at it as well.

However, if the man you would meet would frown upon women in a suit, the lace bodysuit, black as well, you wore instead of a dress shirt would probably give him a heart attack. It covered enough but were in no way domesticated and left the upper part of your chest bare. It was a great way to show off the two thin chains of gold decorating your neck.

For some reason, your eyes lingered on the golden metal shining from the light trickling into your office. You started to fiddle with the necklace then, concentrating on how they weren't cold but rather heated up from your body temperature.

You became lost in your own world, fingers splaying over the hollow in your throat to absentmindedly play with the chains there while you thought about the meeting that was rapidly coming closer.

The action, together with the far-away look you stared at your movement in the mirror, was something that caught Shuri's attention.

"Relax", instantly your eyes flickered up to watch her in the mirror's reflective surface as if snapped from a daze. She'd shifted, so she now sat on the front of your desk, head turned in your direction. "It'll go good".

"Wasn't it you who said that you didn't want me to meet him in the first place?" You began to challenge her words of reassurance, hand falling from your skin to instead hang by your side. Not until you'd turned and cocked your brow at her did you continue. "That must insinuate you don't think it will go good", she simply shrugged when you said this.

"I did say I don't like his sudden call for a conference and that you accepted it in the first place", she began, crossing her feet at the ankle and looking down at the movement momentarily before her gaze found yours once more. "But that doesn't mean I don't think it will go good. I know it will. You're good at your job", you smiled at that. You already knew that you worked great under pressure, or else you wouldn't be standing on top of the empire you ruled. Although, it was always comforting to hear it from someone else.

Fittingly, in the next second, a knock on your door echoed in the room, effectively putting an end to your previous conversation with the women perched on your desk.

"Enter", you called without hesitating, as soon as both your and Shuri's attention also turned to the entrance. The guard stationed outside of your room didn't need to inform you of who'd wanted to enter. You already knew it was T'Challa. And as the guard opened the heavy door to your office and held it open for whoever had requested it, indeed it was Shuri's brother stepping through the doorway.

You didn't more than slightly tip your head to acknowledge the guard's nod of respect your way before he closed the door. Primarily because you spotted the slate grey folder the older of the children of T'Chaka held. It was the call about the seemingly insignificant object being completed that had interrupted the earlier discussion you, Shuri and T'Challa had. Your assemblage hadn't been much more than some minor last discussions and to wait for the folder the man now walking through the room held. Thus the portfolio contained a report, the ultimate attempt of finding anything that could aid you in the meeting with Steven.

"Anything good?" You skipped the unnecessary greetings as you gestured to the portfolio in T'Challa's hand while walking closer to your desk, which also was where he was heading.

"Look for yourself", when he said this, the brown-eyed mad held out the folder for you to take. You did but didn't open it until you'd rounded the counter and sat down in your chair again.

You didn't know what you'd expected to meet you, but a photo and a single sheet of paper weren't it.

For a moment, you stared at the picture resting on top of the report underneath it. Presumably, it should've been a photo of Steven sitting in some club. Although it was blurry and had no great exposure, which made it impossible to tell much about his appearance. Still, you knew it was him or else the picture wouldn't be here. However, it did nothing to help you paint a picture of the man which name so far seemed to be faceless.

Putting the picture to the side, you quickly started to eye the document. You scanned it, finding it contained random facts citing what properties the Canine boss had invested in, even owned. Apparently, Steven managed several clubs, which would explain why his first suggestion of a meeting place had been just that. Other than that, he owned some other businesses that wasn't much to cheer for. All infected by alcohol and drugs by the looks and names. Classical.

"This all?" You finally questioned after turning the sheet over, finding the backside blank. When glancing up, you saw T'Challa nodding. You clenched your jaw and looked back down at the paper.

Ever since Steven had asked for an official meeting, between your eyes only, as his message had been clear to state, you'd requested for the siblings to find out whatever they could about him. You wanted the advantage you knew he couldn't get over you. Thus, what was publicly known of you wasn't anything to hide. And frankly, he was more than welcome to read the articles that had written things about you. Yet, every secret of yours, or anything you'd deemed unfitting for anyone to know, had been wiped. No one could ever find something about you that you didn't want on the internet. Though, it seemed you weren't the only one sitting on resources like that.

Albeit the "new mob boss" was discussed in several articles, Steven's name had no face in any of them. In general, there was no picture of him or much information to track him down by either. So, despite your best efforts, now it seemed you didn't have much more than your hunch to go on during the meeting.

"I do not think it's wise to meet him", T'Challa said, much like his sister had earlier. With a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, fingers releasing the paper you'd gripped to pinch the bridge of your nose instead.

"Neither of you wants me to meet him, do you?" At first, silence met you, which made you look up the sibling pair. They shared a glance before Shuri turned slightly to look at you and her brother crossed his arms.

"No", they said simultaneously, which made you huff.

"I may like it as little as you two, but it put a temporary pause to the conflict. And if he comes to accept my terms, maybe that will remain".

"And what if he doesn't?" T'Challa inquired, receiving a frown from his sister, while you simply tilted your head down to look at your watch. "What if he refuses to tuck tail?" He continued to push.

"He won't", you stated, rising up from your chair, handbag now in your grip. It was three minutes until your driver would be here, so you needed to start heading down to the spot he would pick you up in. Yet, you were stopped in your tracks by a hand gripping your upper arm lightly.

"But what if?"

"T'Challa!" Shuri hissed at the unrespectful way her brother insisted on having his questions answered. She'd shot up from where she up until now had remained seated but before she could drag the man staring down at you with insistent eyes away, your raised the hand of your free arm. It stopped the younger women's movement, merely making her watch you and T'Challa.

There was a reason the siblings were able to run their tech operation as smoothly as they did. They complemented each other. What one lacked, the other possessed. For example, Shuri may own the belief everything was possible, then naturally, her brother would be more cautious. As in this instance. Hence, you didn't take any great offence to the dark-haired man's action, despite that your aloof tone could imply such a thing.

"What if he doesn't accept my deal after having me listen to whatever godawful settlement he offers me? Then I've kept my promise on meeting him for the parley he requested and one, which in the end, unfortunately, didn't establish an accord. Henceforth, our war will continue", you said, instantly feeling how T'Challa's hand fell from holding you back. Yet, you didn't pursue your track to the pick up you already was late for. Not until you assured him of one last thing. 

"Let me remind you that he was the one that asked me for a meeting, not the other way around. He asked me for a temporary truce and a chance to negotiate. In the end, that shows who's the most desperate to settle an agreement, no matter the terms".

Translation:

Lekati = Kitten

[teawaffles]

There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 6

As Moran and the others each supported the players in their own way, Bond, Maya and the company ran the length and breadth of London, staging scenes of their play as they went.

At Westminster Bridge, Alice, played by Maya, ran a Caucus race with the Dodo and his friends. At Bloomsbury, she kicked Bill the Lizard out of the chimney. At Southwark, the Caterpillar taught her how to grow and shrink her body at will. At Knightsbridge, she met the Duchess and her household, and asked the Cheshire cat for directions. At Marylebone Road, she joined a mad tea-party where the time had stopped at six o’clock, then played croquet with the Queen of Hearts in front of Buckingham Palace. After that, she listened to the Gryphon and the Mock Turtle’s exchanges at Billingsgate—— and then, near the Old Bailey, she gave her testimony at the Knave’s trial.

They played a host of strange and fascinating characters, across a medley of scenes and a variety of places. Tonight, the whole of London had become a wonderland of their very own making.

The performance went well, just as they had practiced, and the response was more than satisfactory. The audience only expanded as the play progressed, and the sounds of the cheers and applause growing louder made their hearts leap for joy.

However, on the other hand, a suffocating anxiety had begun to build up within Maya.

The final act was approaching.

A story about a dream, which in itself was like a dream, was nearing its end.

The scene of the trial. The Queen of Hearts jabbed a finger at Alice, who had taken the witness stand, and screeched an order.

“Who cares for you? You’re nothing but a pack of cards!” Maya — Alice — said.

Immediately after she’d said that, countless playing cards were sent fluttering in the air. They reflected the light from the street lamps, sparkling beautifully like snowflakes as they settled onto the stage.

Blackout. Dark curtains were drawn across the stage, such that the audience could not see what was happening on it.

The crowd waited in silence for the next location to be announced, but meanwhile, in the wings, the players were growing agitated.

“……What? The actress playing Alice’s sister hasn’t arrived yet?”

Hearing the report from the crew in charge of carriage transport, Bond was stunned.

“By sheer bad luck, her carriage is stuck in a jam……”

“I see…… This is bad.”

They had considered the possibility that the crowds may hinder their movements across the city. But fortune had favoured them thus far — the fact that it had went so smoothly till now had made them careless.

“What should we do? Of all times, it had to be at such an important scene…”

“——I’ll do it.”

A hush fell over the players. Bond’s snap decision had astonished everyone.

However, the man himself proceeded to put on a wig, and began to pull on his costume without hesitation. Of course, he made sure not to resemble the former actress Irene Adler. Thinking of the comicality of dressing as a woman on top of his current dress as a man, he stifled a giggle.

Having Bond stand in for an actor was one plan they had prepared in case of emergencies. But as he wanted to let the company showcase their own talent, he saved it as a last resort for situations when they were absolutely trapped.

Seeing his resolve, the company members shook off their doubts, and steeled their hearts to see the last scene to the end.

“Maya, are you ready?”

“……Y-Yes.”

Something seemed to be on her mind.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re able to concentrate?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

Having confirmed that Maya had switched her full attention to her role, the two of them ascended the stage.

It had only been twenty seconds after the problem was found. The blackout curtains opened, and from a dream, the story returned to reality.

As Alice, played by Maya, lay on his lap, Bond slowly shook her shoulder.

“Wake up, Alice!”

Then Alice rubbed her eyes and sat up.

Bond continued.

“Why, what a long sleep you’ve had!”

Although it had been a sudden substitution, as a former professional, he was right in his element. Watching from the wings, the company members gasped.

“Oh, I’ve had such a curious dream!” said Alice.

Then, buzzing with excitement, she told her sister all about the adventures she had in her dream.

When the story ended, Alice’s sister patted her head fondly.

“It was a curious dream, dear, certainly: but now run in to your tea; it's getting late.”

Nodding, Alice got on her feet and prepared to dash off the stage. Now Alice would leave the scene, and Maya’s part would end—— or at least, that had been the plan.

Just before she left the stage, Alice — Maya — suddenly stopped.

“……Maya?”

Her colleagues murmured in hushed tones at the strange sight unfolding before them.

On stage, Bond had been inwardly shaken by her act, but kept up a smiling face as Alice’s older sister.

Maya remained where she was, silent and motionless. As the actors on stage stood at a standstill, and the scene began to diverge from the original story, the audience also began to grow restless.

Then, Alice turned to face her sister.

“I had a dream.”

“………?”

An unexpected ad lib. Hearing Alice veer off from the script, Bond’s heart began to thump loudly in his chest. But Maya continued to speak in the role of Alice.

“In my dream, there were many strange animals and people, and I kept getting pushed around. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, and they all said selfish things. I journeyed through all that. I didn’t understand any of it until the end…… But it was a wonderful and jolly dream to have.”

Then, Alice looked straight into her sister’s eyes.

“Do you think, I’d be able to dream it again?”

She tilted her head to the side in a cute manner.

To the audience, these were just the gestures of a little girl; But Bond understood the true meaning behind those words, and his heart ached.

After the players left the stage, and the curtains fell, would they ever be able to step into the limelight like this again? Even though their performance tonight was undoubtedly a success, there was no way they would be able to use this extraordinary technique again and again. Moreover, Bond’s support would end here as well.

After this dreamlike night ended, what awaited them was their cruel reality, of life amidst the discrimination and prejudice this society held for the poor.

“When I grow up, will I never be able to dream like this again?”

Alice — Maya — rocked on her heels and toes as she asked this question. To the unknowing audience, this also seemed like nothing more than the actions of an innocent child.

While playing the role of Alice splendidly, Maya was also appealing to Bond.

Could we ever become a distinguished theatre company, and be recognised by the wider world?

They had poured their heart and soul into that cry, and Bond had received it. While staying in character as Alice’s sister, just as Maya did, he wore a sincere expression as he replied.

“Think about it for yourself, and act accordingly.”

His voice was gentle, yet stern.

“Whether you’ll be able to dream like this from now on: that’s for you to think about. Decide on your own. By no means should you constrain yourself by thinking that adults should act like adults.”

Bond had taken Moran’s words and altered them slightly. They now took on a different meaning, but that was alright. Just like how one could interpret an inescapable tragedy as a happy ending, Bond had also given a new meaning to Moran’s words.

The poor should live their lives as befits their station—— to Maya, who’d ridiculed her own way of life as an actress, Bond contended that being born into poverty was no reason to give up on your dreams.

However, even after hearing her sister’s words, Alice was still unconvinced.

She pouted. “But when I grow up, there will also be difficult things waiting for me.”

Even if one were to dream, reality would not allow them to happen. Having experienced this for herself many times over, Maya launched her rebuttal.

To that, Alice’s older sister walked up to her, and gently placed a hand on her cheek.

“Alice, I was so moved by your story. If you just close your eyes…… See, there’s the White Rabbit. And there’s the drowning Mouse. Over there’s the Queen of Hearts, screeching away, and the Cheshire cat, as well as the Duchess.”

Her sister closed her eyes and pointed, and Alice followed her movements with her eyes.

At last, she pointed at the audience: the tremendous crowds, who had been watching their performance with fervour.

“………!”

That very instant, Maya had forgotten about Alice. Enchanted by the crowds, it was this young woman whom Bond spoke to.

“Alice, your story was able to add such wonderful colours to my world. Your dreams, have the power to shape reality.”

Her dreams could change the real world.

Bond’s words pierced straight through her heart.

“If you meet difficult obstacles, remember this sight: for it was created from your dream.”

Then, for one final time, Bond showed Alice the audience watching the stage.

It didn’t matter where you stood in life. Everyone had the right to live their dreams.

Saying his lines in the role of Alice’s sister, Bond conveyed these thoughts to the players.

The crowds watched their improvisation with rapt attention, so much so they even forgot to blink. It seemed this audience, coming from all walks of life, had resonated with their exchange.

Once again, the message exchanged beneath this impromptu performance enveloped the stage and the surrounding crowds in a quiet stillness.

Having understood her sister’s words, a smile rose on Alice’s face.

“——Thank you. Well then, I’ll be off to tea.”

With light steps, she skipped off the stage.

With a peaceful smile, Bond watched her figure disappear, and slowly, the curtains were lowered onto the stage.

Immediately after, a sea of applause thundered like a storm. Joyous whistles and ovations poured forth from the crowds, their deafening cheers rocking the very cobblestone streets.

Then the curtain rose once again for the curtain call, with all the actors lining up on stage and giving a bow. The applause grew even louder.

As the audience showered them with praise, the chairwoman, Maya, shouted over the cheers.

“With that, our play has come to an end. To everyone who has stayed with us all this way — thank you very much!”

She was so moved that she’d forgotten to put on her theatrical tone from the beginning of the play — this was her honest, heartfelt gratitude.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you! Until the day we meet again, goodbye!”

With those closing words, the players bowed in unison once more, and the performance came to an end.

Just as the curtains fell, from the roof of a faraway building, Bond caught sight of Moran giving him a thumbs-up. To his senior, who had been watching over them all this time, Bond responded with a contented smile.

Just like this, the play that had rocked the capital of the Empire for one night only, drew to a close.

Translator’s notes

A rough map of the play’s route across London

At the start of this chapter, the sequence of events described actually follows the exact storyline of Alice in Wonderland. From Chapter 5, we also know that they began at Piccadilly Circus and moved on to Trafalgar Square — again, the respective scenes they acted out are the first two chapters of Alice in Wonderland. I’ve traced their rough route here:

Also, if you recall that in Chapter 5, Part 2, Fred tells the policemen that the next venue is the British Museum, when they were really going to Knightsbridge. From the map, the company had probably just left Southwark at this time — you can see that he really threw them for a loop.

[lightsonparkave]

HAPPY TWO-YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO LIGHTS ON PARK AVE! 🎂🎉 In celebration of LoPA’s birthday (August 22, to be exact), all of the prompts from the previous year are up for grabs.

Round 24 will end on August 31, 11:59 PM ET (what time is that for me?).

As always, you’re free to jump in whenever you’d like during the round, a wide variety of work types is accepted, and there are no minimum work requirements. Unfinished works and works for other fandom events are allowed. You can find more information about Lights on Park Ave and the participation guidelines here.

Here are all 149 prompts. Go crazy and have fun! 🎈

ROUND 13: TIME

A quote about being infinite in the present moment from The Perks of Being a Wallflower

“Vellichor,” the the strange wistfulness of used bookstores

“How long is forever?” dialogue from Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

“Time” - Hans Zimmer (Inception OST)

A quote and gifset from Denis Villeneuve’s Arrival (2016) about the nonlinear structure of time

Agnès Varda’s portraits when she was 20, 36, and 80 years old

A John Irving quote about what time does to the people who matter to us

Ten traveling back to see Rose on New Year’s Day in 2005 before he dies and reincarnates in Doctor Who

Future inventions in 2015 as seen in Robert Zemeckis’s Back to the Future Part II (1989)

A quote about what time does for wounds

ROUND 14: LIMINALITY

A photoset of various liminal spaces

Illustration of a black cat in front of a red-lit house with the caption, “They say no one is living here—but the lights come on, once every year”

A photoset of Victorian-era spirit photography, an art form that attempted to capture the ghost of a deceased loved one

Information on the famous Mojave phone booth, a lone telephone booth in the middle of the desert that received calls from all over the world

Rosemary Ellen Guiley’s The Encyclopedia of Ghosts and Spirits Third Edition’s definition of “witching hour”

Illustration of a ghost train on an abandoned trestle bridge in the Pacific Northwest

A quote by Isabel Allende about spirits coming out at night in the library

Gifset of the spirit world in Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away (2001)

Illustration of a neon roadside sign of a motel that only appears at night by a long-forgotten highway

“Pacific Coast Highway” - Kavinsky

A gifset quote from The Twilight Zone (1959)

Scenery from Twin Peaks season 1 (1990)

A quote about something shifting into a strange, new place inside of a person from Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado

ROUND 15: LOSS

A quote about being lost and found by someone special by Sue Zhao

A photo of the Mildred, wrecked off Gurnard’s Head, Cornwall in 1912

A quote about ephemerality and the beauty of it from Troy (2004)

Two paintings of people visiting ruins by Caspar David Friedrich

A quote about desire and loss by Lara Mimosa Montes

A photo of an overgrown, abandoned conservatory

A passage about what disappears and what remains in ruins from Suicide by Édouard Levé

Dialogue about gratitude for people who aren’t meant to stay in your life but shape who you are from BoJack Horseman

A scene from Fleabag where the Priest chooses God over Fleabag and gently tells Fleabag that her love for him will pass before they part ways

A prayer to St. Anthony, patron saint of lost things, people, and souls

Oscar Wilde’s tomb in Père Lachaise Cemetery, Paris, covered in lipstick kisses from admirers

Photos of a cemetery statue in Austria, wrapped in branches and dead leaves, holding a single flower

ROUND 16: DEVOTION/SERVICE

A gifset of Kevin on the phone, telling Chiron he’ll cook food for him from Barry Jenkin’s Moonlight (2016)

Buttercup’s monologue to Westley about how she would do anything for him from The Princess Bride by William Goldman

Gifs of Merlin saying that he was born to serve Arthur from BBC’s Merlin

An excerpt about giving all of oneself to someone despite what it costs from House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

A gifset of various times Jaime and Brienne demonstrate their loyalty to and love for each other in Game of Thrones

A gifset of all the different ways Cliff is there for Rick in Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019)

A gifset of Nadia deciding to be by Alan’s side no matter what in Russian Doll

“Devotion” - Ocean Vuong

A gifset of Bond comforting a traumatized Vesper in the shower in Casino Royale (2006)

A gifset of Sookhee refusing to leave Hideko, saying her job is to look after her in Park Chanwook’s The Handmaiden (2016)

ROUND 17: DREAMS

A dreamscape gifset and quote about repressed thoughts in dreams and the Internet from Satoshi Kon’s Paprika (2006)

A gifset of Mitsuha and Taki finally meeting in their own bodies in a dream from Shinkai Makoto’s Kimi no Na wa (Your Name) (2016)

A quote by Tinker Bell telling Peter Pan where he can find her and where she’ll always love him in Steven Spielberg’s Hook (1991)

The scene where Keating tells his students that poetry, beauty, romance, and love give life meaning in Peter Weir’s Dead Poets Society (1989)

An animated illustration of a storefront called “Hauntings” with a flickering “99¢ dreams” neon sign

Various dreamscape scenes and a quote about ideas being the most resilient parasite from Christopher Nolan’s Inception (2010)

A quote about how all living beings must dream to survive reality from The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

A comic about people we love taking turns to visit us in dreams every night

Lovers and Sleeping Couple, two drawings by Egon Schiele

A quote about belief in a better world by Robert Frobisher to his lover, Rufus Sixsmith, in Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell

A quote about the feeling of falling in love lingering when you wake up from a dream in Alexis Dos Santos’s Unmade Beds (2009)

A photo of subway graffiti by an unknown author insisting that they’ll never give up making the world a better place to live in

ROUND 18: PHYSICAL TOUCH

A scene about how to return a stolen kiss from Daniel Ribeiro’s The Way He Looks (2014)

A line about kissing someone the way a flower opens from “I Know Someone” by Mary Oliver

A gifset focusing on showing affection and care through hands from Park Chanwook’s The Handmaiden (2016)

A passage about two people leaving invisible marks on each other through the accumulation of touches over the years from A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood

Two conversations about never being touched before and only being touched by one person from Barry Jenkins’s Moonlight (2016)

Going from yearning to touch someone but stopping oneself to being allowed to touch them from Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy

Moving art of two bodies made of stars and the cosmos embracing

A quote about maintaining sanity by touching someone but being separated despite proximity from The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje

A line about proving that one still exists and is real through touch from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong

Different touches between Villanelle and Eve expressing violence, threat, sexual tension, comfort, and companionship in Killing Eve

A juxtaposition of two scenes from Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love (2000) of Su Li-zhen rejecting and accepting Chow Mo-wan’s hand

A compilation of marble sculptures by Gian Lorenzo Bernini

Syd (Chris Evans) trailing kisses down London’s back in London (2005)

ROUND 19: IMMORTALITY

James Baldwin talking about how art helps you discover that people before you have experienced the same thing as you and you are not alone

Dr. Brand saying that love transcends time and space in Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar (2014)

Nadia and Alan meeting for the first time as they’re about to die and relive the same day again in Russian Doll

The loneliness of losing everyone by having a long life as expressed by Ten in Doctor Who

The doomed eternal time loop romance of Simon and Alisha from Misfits

A quote by Edvard Munch about becoming eternal through the flowers that grow from his body after death

Nagai Kei recalling the traffic accident that killed him and triggered his immortality, making him one of the rare persecuted humans to possess the power, in Ajin

A collection of moments from Jay Russell’s Tuck Everlasting (2002)

A quote by Mary Wollstonecraft hoping for something that lasts inside the heart

Various scenes with Jack Harkness from Doctor Who

Aya telling Asou-kun to live on and live forever as she nears the end of her life in 1 Litre of Tears

An excerpt about the immortalization of the self through love from “Love of the Wolf” in Hélène Cixous’s Stigmata

A collection of scenes from the Black Mirror episode “San Junipero”

Naoko telling Toru to always remember her and remember that she existed in Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami

Dom explaining to Ariadne that he uses the PASIV to dream as it’s the only way that he can be with his wife and children in Christopher Nolan’s Inception (2010)

ROUND 20: POETRY

“I’m Going Back to Minnesota Where Sadness Makes Sense” - Danez Smith

A line about wanting to forget how much you loved someone and then actually forgetting from Bluets by Maggie Nelson

“Perhaps the World Ends Here” - Joy Harjo

“In Time” - W. S. Merwin

“By Small and Small: Midnight to Four A.M.” - Jack Gilbert

“Magdalene: The Addict” - Marie Howe

“Wild Geese” - Mary Oliver

“Morphology 2″ - CJ Scruton

“20″ from Moscow in the Plague Year by Marina Tsvetaeva

“To Hold” - Li-Young Lee

ROUND 21: LONGING

“I Loved You Before I Was Born” - Li-Young Lee

A poem about longing for someone through worlds by Izumi Shikibu

A gifset of Marianne and Héloïse falling in love from Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)

“Make Me Feel” - Janelle Monáe

A quote about living in longing being better than realizing that longing from 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami

“I Want You” - Mitski

Orpheus and Eurydice in Hades - Friedrich Heinrich Füger

Long definition of the word “saudade”

Definition of the word “hiraeth”

“Something About Us” - Daft Punk

Two lines about burning quietly from the poem “The Pillowcase” by Annelyse Gelman

A conversation about wanting each other after decades of separation from Pedro Almodóvar’s Pain and Glory (2019)

A Hanahaki disease mood board

“Shrike” - Hozier

Two lines about wanting someone to return from Herakles by Euripides

“Love of My Life” - Queen

“Eyes, Nose, Lips” - Taeyang

A screenshot of Kathy and Tommy holding onto each other desperately from Mark Romanek’s Never Let Me Go (2010) and a quote from Kazuo Ishiguro’s eponymous novel

ROUND 22: YOUTH

“Perfect Places” - Lorde

A piece about realizing you’ll never be this young again, but it’s the first time you’re this old by Kalyn Roseanne Livernois

A conversation between Neil and Mr. Keating about Neil feeling trapped and unable to live the life he wants because of his father from Peter Weir’s Dead Poets Society (1989)

An excerpt about being too young to know how to love properly from Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

“I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor” - Arctic Monkeys

Elio’s father telling Elio not to try to rid himself of his sorrow and pain—and with that joy—which he feels so strongly because he’s so young from Call Me By Your Name by Andre Aciman

A quote about how everything feels final to young people because they’re experiencing it for the first time from Middlemarch by George Eliot

Lara Jean telling Peter that she had to make it seem like she liked him to deal with her love letter fiasco in Susan Johnson’s To All the Boys I Loved Before (2018)

Rue and Jules dancing together and partying it up in Euphoria

“Le Plongeoir” by Laurent Roch

A quote about being pushed into adulthood and not being ready from Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami

A photo of a roller rink illuminated by pink and purple lights

Pastel photo series of Coney Island by Mijoo Kim and Minjin Kang

“Hips Don’t Lie” - Shakira feat. Wyclef Jean

“Young Dumb & Broke” - Khalid

Different moments accompanied by the letter to Mr. Vernon at the end of detention from John Hughes’s The Breakfast Club (1985)

Various scenes and a quote about growing up and realizing life isn’t like a fairy tale from Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

Stills of the young lesbian couple in love from the music video of “You Know” - Jaurim

Lines by Effy about her emotional and mental struggles from Skins

Nathan chiding the group for not taking advantage of their superpowers as young offenders from Misfits

ROUND 23: HEDONISM

A passage about giving into passion and losing control from The Secret History by Donna Tartt

“Thot Shit” - Megan Thee Stallion

An aesthetic photoset of the Greek god Dionysus

A quote about living for ecstasy rather than balance from From a Journal of Love by Anaïs Nin

A photo of an anonymous person in nothing but a silk robe and lingerie

A photo of Donatella Versace lounging in a chair, surrounded by shirtless, muscular men sunbathing around her in Capri, Italy in 1994

An aesthetic photoset based on The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

The music video for “Heartless” by The Weeknd

A plea for summer to never end from Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman

“Plastic Love” - Mariya Takeuchi

A gifset from the music video of “Blinding Lights” by The Weeknd, a continuation of the “Heartless” music video

“XS” - Rina Sawayama

A gifset from the music video of “Body” by Mino

Photos of people dancing at the legendary Studio 54

Photos and a description of the party scene at Studio 54

Chris Evans and Evan Rachel Wood hooking up in a car in the “Gucci Guilty Black” commercial

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 45

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut in this chapter

Loki, despite being raised in a royal family, was at heart a man of simple pleasures. What more could he want from life than what he already had? 

The Edge was a place of wonders, that much was indisputable. And even if not all of them were easy to enjoy, there were still moments worth living for. 

The stars above felt closer than the last time Loki paid attention to them. Galaxies swirled in their eternal dance, the stars bright and colorful. Here, at the edge of the known universe, one had to wonder what laid beyond it. Here, it didn't feel far at all.

But even though some part of him couldn't stop the curiosity, Loki was tired of adventures. Or at least the ones where he had to risk his life and others'. Years ago, he'd have been surprised any 'others' would choose to stick with him and stay by his side despite it all. It was still a strange, new concept that baffled him whenever he realised how comfortable he’d grown in his new life. How vastly different it was from what he had predicted his future to look like.

But it was okay, Loki concluded. If life wanted to surprise him in that way, he'd allow it. 

Loki closed his eyes. The wind gathered the sweet scent of flowers, blowing it through the lush gardens, overflowing with life. It was one of the many wonders of the Edge - how capable it was of change. How easy it was for the muddy creeks to turn into crystal-clear ponds. How the dry patches of grass could turn into fields of greenery and flowers. How the gnarled trees could turn into a forest thrumming with noise and movement. 

All of it for a price paid in blood and ash. 

Loki's hand brushed his throat, where he had still felt the ghosts of pain. 

It was over, Loki had to remind himself again. The mission was over and they were all leaving the Edge soon. There were other, better, things to focus on. He should think about how soft the grass was as he laid on the field. How warm you felt, pushed into his side and wrapped in his cape. How peaceful it was among the trees, with birds singing somewhere in the distance-

"Don't ya fucking LICK that frog, Peter, or I swear on your aunt, I'll-" 

"It smells like carrots!" 

"It doesn't mean you have to- oh my god… This is the last time I abduct you." 

Loki smiled. The birds were no longer singing, or at least not through the deafening ringing in his ear, but he didn't mind. He didn't mind that life at all. 

He heard rushed steps to his left moments before the boy reached him. Loki cracked one eye open. 

The fattest, most annoyed, orange frog he had ever seen flopped from the boy's hands, all six legs dangling loose. 

Peter's smile was brighter than the countless stars overhead. "Look what I found, Mr. Mischief! There were more of them, and in different colors too!" 

The frog burped. It indeed smelled of carrots. 

Loki closed his eye. "What does it taste like?" 

"Like a frog, unfortunately…"

"You should check out the other ones." 

"Okay!" 

And before he knew it, the boy was gone. The thicket shook. A few faeries rushed away, desperately flapping their translucent wings. 

"He's gonna lick all the frogs now," you grumbled from your cocoon. "He's gonna be sick." 

"I can heal him." 

"How nice of you. I'm sure he'll appreciate it." 

"What can I say, darling? I'm a generous god." 

"So in all your godly wisdom you told the boy to go lick some frogs?" 

"Let him have some fun." 

You turned your head to face him. Loki was looking at the stars overhead. Dark bruises peeked from under his collar. Magical aftershock, he had called them when he had explained why they didn't disappear despite his healing. They'd stay for a while, he said. A small price to pay. 

"I'm glad it's over," you said quietly. 

"So am I." 

"Do you think…," you licked your lips. "Is it okay for us to just lay here and enjoy this change?" 

The Edge took a shape that was so vastly different that it still seemed like a miracle. The balance was indeed a precarious thing there, no flicker of energy ever wasted. The land replenished, bringing to life things that made you admit that magic could be beautiful. 

Still, you couldn't forget where all this energy came from. How the Queen had delayed her own fading by killing so many others.

"We did what we could," Loki understood your worry too well. "It is beyond us to change the laws of these lands and their dwellers. Harsh as this might feel to us, this is what life looks like here. All this," he gestured to the shimmering forest around, "is what the Edge was always supposed to be like, if the order of things had been kept."

"Wise words coming from an outsider."

You unfurled from Loki's cape so fast you almost ripped it from beneath him. The Prince was standing at the edge of the clearing the three of you chose to spend your final hours at. He was wearing a robe in distinct shades of silver, the pattern covering the fine fabric meandering within the eye-catching lines. It was the most vivid thing you'd ever seen him wear, the shine of the metal pieces razor-sharp.

The Prince wasn't looking at you. "I have lived for so long I couldn’t remember how my own world was supposed to be. How strange it was to see it wither throughout the centuries despite the Queen's fading supposedly filling out the essence lacking. How strange it was for so many Rifts to form and plague our lands. How peaceful it had become now…"

Loki and you exchanged glances, but kept quiet. The Prince kept his hands clasped behind his back, but you couldn't forget them drenched in blood.

During the silence after the Prince's words, Peter came back from whatever he had occupied himself with and likely annoyed whatever creature he managed to find. He took one look at the visitor and disappeared between the trees again. He was a smart boy, after all. 

"We are glad this issue is resolved at last," Loki said carefully. 

"So am I." 

The Prince nodded to himself. His eyes were cold and distant. You wondered how long one had to live to forget their own past. 

And how long it'd take the Prince to vanish, now that the weight of fading had fallen to him. 

"The body of your ambassador is being prepared for the transport," he said at last before leaving the clearing. He did not take the path towards the palace, though. Loki and you watched him disappear between the trees, walking slowly among the flowers in full bloom. You couldn't help but wonder if he was reminiscing, or creating fresh memories. 

The air tasted like ash in your mouth. 

"I think I prefer spiders." 

Loki shushed you. "Don't bring bad luck. I want to leave this place in one piece." 

"Oh? And where would you rather be?" you asked as you laid back down on the soft grass. 

"Somewhere nice and quiet, but I'm open to suggestions," Loki purred into your ear, bringing you close to his chest. 

"Then I'm sure my little surprise will be to your liking."

Loki stilled. "A what?" 

"You'll have to be patient. We're here, so I'm not sure what's going on on Earth, but I think it should be ready when we're back."

Loki's mind was overflowing with all the possibilities and ideas. He went over your past conversations, trying to piece together whatever hints you might have given him. "Should I guess?"

"I'm not telling you anything. You have to wait." 

Loki did not want to wait, but his options were limited. 

By the time you were to leave the Edge, he was no closer to finding out what you had planned. The three of you waited patiently on the same balcony you had arrived on all those weeks ago. It hadn't felt that long, probably because of how much had happened since then. 

Roses climbed high over the stone walls of the palace, their flowers heavy and blooming. Petals rained down, picked off by the wind and taken away. 

The ambassador's body was wrapped in silk and bound tight, ready to be taken to his birthplace at last. 

"Do you think he found out what the Queen had been doing?" you asked quietly. 

"He might've been suspicious enough to look for all those ancient scrolls in the library and pieced together the facts," Loki said. 

"And the Queen didn't let him spill her secret." 

Peter frowned. "So… she was the bad guy, right?" 

If only things were so easy. 

"Often, there's no good or bad," Loki said, looking at the roses. "There are just things that'll hurt you more than the others, and the things that'll hurt others but save you the pain. Everything is a matter of choice. And values." 

The three of you watched the Bifrost open and swallow the remains of the ambassador. Only he would be allowed on the grounds of Asgard that day, at least officially. No hint of emotion could be noticed on Loki's face as he watched the flash of light disappear. You took his hand. 

Out of the shadows of one of the towers came the Prince, entering the balcony from the side of the river, shimmering far below. He was alone, no guards following his steps. You wondered how many of them were left. 

"Looks like this is farewell," he said in a deep voice. 

"We are glad we could help," Loki lied smoothly. 

There were no words left to exchange. It was clear that whatever would happen now to this place was way beyond either of your control. 

No amount of evidence could ever make you trust the Prince, though. 

The light surrounded you in a flash of colors, pulling on each and every fiber of your being. Loki tugged you into his side, Peter sticking himself to his other. 

The feeling of being ripped to atoms and then roughly put back into shape half a galaxy away was almost familiar by now. Still, it was no more bearable than the previous times and left you with a mild dizziness once your form materialized back on Earth. 

You'd never laugh at people clapping after plane landings again. 

The sudden change of the surroundings hit you with a cold blast of winter chill and sun, although its light was diluted through the clouds. It was strange not to see the galaxies in the reach of your hand. 

What was even stranger was seeing Thor calmly standing at the top of the Stark Tower, where the three of you had been transported to. 

"I think I prefer the bag," Peter mumbled, dangerously green on his face. 

Thor approached you with a frown that, Loki knew, had never led to anything good. At least not for him. Brotherly love could be rough at times. 

"So, you're back," he said, openly eyeing the kid. "How did it go? Are we at war?" 

"We're all good, thanks for your concern," you cooed sweetly. 

"The Edge was never more beautiful than when we left it," Loki smiled. 

Thor took a steadying breath. "...is it in ruin?" 

You thought back to the slightly devastated great hall of the palace. And the gardens still dealing with the aftermath of a spider infestation. 

"I just told you it's not! Why do you always accuse me of lying, brother? I'm deeply hurt by your lack of trust." 

"It's the safer option," Thor said. "As glad as I am to learn that the crisis is apparently solved, I dare ask what is the boy doing with you?" 

Peter blanched. 

Loki pushed him off the roof. "What boy?" 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw not-a-boy swinging off into the city as fast as his webs allowed him. 

The second steadying breath helped Thor even less than the first one. There was a tiny little vein pulsing at his temple, threatening to burst along with his temper. 

Loki patted Thor's arm on his way to the stairs. "Don't worry, brother. We took care of everything."

"That's precisely why I worry." 

You sent him a kiss as you followed Loki. It didn't seem to be appreciated enough. 

You couldn't believe you were back on Earth. The change that felt huge before, only grew with each step you took down the Tower's familiar corridors. The kitchens, the day rooms, training grounds - it all felt so strangely unreal after the weeks living among the shifting, feral magic of the Edge. 

"It's good to be back," you said at precisely the moment Bruce Banner appeared on the other end of the corridor leading through the labs. 

Bruce froze, his eyes growing wide. He, apparently, had a dramatically different opinion about your coming back. 

He shifted nervously on his feet, but there was no escape. "So, uh… How did it go?" 

Loki pretended to think. "Well, don't expect to see the real moon anytime soon." 

The look on Bruce's face was worth a pic, but your phone had been left in your room before the mission. 

"It really is good to be back," Loki repeated your earlier words sometime later, once the door to your room closed behind your back. 

Not much seemed to have changed, which was strangely reassuring. Loki wasn't sure what his feelings were towards the small figurine of his unnerving similarity were, but even its sight was not unwelcome. It still stood on the narrow and slightly dusty windowsill, covered in the snow on the other side of glass. 

But there was one thing out of order that immediately caught Loki's attention. As far as he was concerned, the neat stack of business cards on the bedside table was not there last time, as well as the not-so-neat single one, with hand painted spider and a set of what could be horns, if one squinted hard enough. 

'thought it would be cool' said the little note scribbled with a gel pen. 

"And what is that?" Loki asked, picking it up. 

"Part of the surprise." 

"'Professional mischief for an affordable price'," Loki read out loud. "Sounds like a catchphrase of some detective agency, like the ones from the shows you showed me."

Loki thought about what he just said. He looked at you with a frown. 

"Only if you want it to," you shrugged with a little smile ghosting over your lips. 

Loki blinked. "You're actually serious." 

"I thought it would be nice if we had something of our own. You know, outside of this mess," you pointed towards the door, currently being banged with a fist from the other side. Two voices demanded to know 'everything about that damn moon'. 

Loki looked back at the neat stack of cards. The thick paper was pleasant to the touch. 

"You said it was only part of the surprise?" 

"How glad I am you asked, love." 

Loki watched you pick up your coat and gloves. You opened the large window to the left, letting the alarmingly chill air inside. "Shall we?" 

One more voice joined the ones behind the door. Loki could not see into the future, but he had a feeling that door would be the most occupied place in the Tower soon. 

"That's a lovely idea," he said and picked you up. 

The burst of magic solidified under his feet as the two of you left the Tower and all the people looking for you. 

The sun was slowly setting. It was not late, but as always during the winter time, day hours were sparse. You were high enough in the air for the pedestrians not to notice you, but even then, what would they do? Tony had been flying around in his suit on a daily basis, and wouldn't hear anyone having a problem with that. 

The wind pushed rogue snowflakes into your faces. It felt refreshing to be back in the city you were so familiar with. Everything seemed new and wondrous, especially from such a perspective. Even plane flights couldn't do it justice, not when you couldn't feel the breeze in your face, and clouds passing by so closely you could almost reach out to them with a hand. 

Loki changed course when you directed him to the older part of the city. It was still relatively close to the centre, but no skyscrapers, and certainly no towers could be found in the neighborhood of old brick apartments; only buildings a few floors high, and narrow lawns separating their fronts and the road, both currently covered in snow. No one bothered to take care of it, at least since it last fell. 

Loki put you down in front of the one you pointed him to. 

"I must admit I'm surprised," Loki said. "I'd never expect to come to a place like this, for whatever reason." 

"You don't even know why we're here yet." You led him up the ice-covered stairs to the scarcely lit interior stairwell. 

You ignored the apartments on the lowest floor, and instead took him upstairs. With a set of keys you fished out of your jacket, and which Loki dimly remembered you grabbing before leaving the Tower, you opened the door with a number 13 on it. 

"You're not superstitious, right?" you laughed quietly. 

Feeling you observe him carefully, Loki stepped inside. The short hall led to a room that once upon a time could've been someone's office. But that was a long time and a few crises ago, when the furniture was free of the scratches, and the walls didn't shed old paint every time seasons changed. Still, it had its charm, Loki had to admit as he stepped further in. If cleaned, the large window could allow a lot of light onto the heavy desk in front of it, and to the sitting area with two couches and a coffee table. To the right, Loki noticed another set of stairs, leading upwards. 

"The upper part is connected. The previous owner used it as an apartment, with this here being his working area," you explained. 

Loki nodded. 

"What do you think?" you elbowed him in the side, too nervous to wait patiently. 

Loki sat on one of the couches. Oh, he could definitely feel the atmosphere of this place, so similar to the crime shows you had made him binge (and he didn't even whine about too much). He had never thought of himself as a detective, not like the ones on TV, but on the other hand - who on Earth could be better at solving any and all supernatural secrets this planet might still have? There certainly didn't seem to be a lot of competition in that area. 

He was still contemplating his future and, of course, possible fame, when you slipped onto his lap and cupped his face. 

"What. Do you. Think?," you asked clearly, looking him straight in the eye. "Don't make me wait, asshole."

A lazy, satisfied smile creeped on Loki's face - precisely the one he knew always drove you crazy. 

"I'm still unsure, darling," he drawled, leaning further back onto the couch and reveling in the feeling of having you pressed against him. "For some very strange reason, I can't make up my mind just yet…" 

The setting sun painted golden patterns on your face. Your hand wandered over Loki's chest, and stopped over his racing heart. However much he tried to stop it, his heart had always been the one to betray his every emotion. 

"That's such a shame," you leaned into his neck, pushing his head to the side. "I would do anything to make it easier for you…" 

Loki's hands slipped to your thighs, holding you steady against him. His fingers shook when he felt your lips follow the curve of his neck, right over his rapid pulse. He closed his eyes as you slowly worked on undoing his shirt. 

"Anything you do will be enough," his words were breathy and quiet.

"Are you sure?" 

"I can't think of a single thing I wouldn't let you do to me right now." 

You certainly were enjoying yourself just as much, given the smile ghosting over Loki's collarbone, and the trail of kisses going slowly down. Loki's grip tightened over your legs, his breath becoming shorter the further you went. He felt the heat rising deep inside his chest, just as his thoughts turned murkier with each small movement of your hips, brushing unnervingly close to where he had wanted them to, but still not-

A strangled sound escaped his throat. Loki pushed the coat off your shoulders and threw it to the side, not caring where it landed. He had other things on his mind, and one of them included his hands diving under your shirt, and roaming over your back, so wonderfully warm. 

Loki shivered when you brushed over his bulge, earning you a breathless moan as you worked on his belt. 

"I think I'm starting to warm up to this place," he muttered into your lips. His fingers tugged on your trousers, as impatient as yours. 

You drank in the sounds that came from him. You stroked his shaft gently, brushing your thumb over its underside. He shuddered in your grip, tense to the point of near pain. Loki's nails dug into the skin of your back as you rose and then sank onto him, taking him in an unnervingly slow pace. 

His heart thundered in his chest as you rode him gently, the sight engraving itself into Loki's memories - those deepest, most secretive ones, which he often came back to to relive and thoroughly enjoy. 

The couch kept creaking under the two of you, growing louder as your moves became sloppier and more desperate. Loki couldn't help his hips from grinding into yours every time you rose above him, chasing the pleasure and getting close to it. Loki's thrusts became erratic. His hands gripped your ass when you leaned closer, hitting just the right spot-

He came, shivering under your touch, waves of pleasure shooting through his body. 

"Sorry," he muttered, his voice hoarse. He could already feel the redness blooming over his cheeks. He didn't think he'd be done so soon, hadn't planned it…

You shut him up with a kiss, brushing the hair plastered to his forehead to the side. Your hips rolled over his a few more times, riding him into the couch and melting his bones as you extended the feeling. 

"It's okay," you said. "We have all the time in the world now." 

Loki nodded, words failing him. He brought you closer to his chest, his arms closing around you in a tight embrace as he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck. For a few moments, the only thing he could think about was that home wasn't always a planet, or a building. Sometimes, on those few rare, and incredibly lucky occasions, it could be a person. 

And it was more than enough. 

"I love this place," Loki admitted quietly. 

[the-scooby-gang]

Us... But not quite

Part 7

Summary: After falling thought a portal while they were being chased by their most horrifying monster yet, The Scooby Gang finds themselves in a place they have never been before. A place called Crystal Cove. 

“We are here!” Younger Fred said.

Here, is a large white Spanish style building with red roofs were the front wall read City Hall in big brass letters.

The trip over here was mundane. It was a nice town, composed of small buildings, built like a picturesque Spanish village. Most buildings were painted either a soft cream or vibrant welcoming colours. If it wasn’t for the “Most haunted place on earth” sigh at the beginning of the town they would have happily stayed there relaxing a little and taking their sweet time researching until they found a way to go home.  

“I will go inside. You guys wait for me here?” Young Fred was already outside the van. He had the coffee holder in one hand, one foot on the steps of the building.

“You got it, Little Me.” Older Fred gave him a thumbs up. The gang made their way outside moving towards the young man who by now had walked up the steps, looking at them expectantly.  

“Ok, be right back” he waved at them as he went inside.

“He’s such a cutie,” Daphne said when young Fred was no longer on hearing range. “Remember when we used to be his age?”

Fred and Velma sat down on the third step, leaning against each other. Scooby laid on the sidewalk by their feet while Daphne and Shaggy perched themselves on the stone bannister. They took a deep, long breath, taking in the sea air into their lungs.

It was indeed a beautiful town.

“Like, bold of you to assume I remember anything at any point in time” Shaggy turned his head lazily towards his girlfriend.

“What you had for breakfast yesterday?” Velma’s left eyebrow disappeared under her bangs.

“That’s, like, different and you know it” Shaggy pointed his finger at the sweater-clad woman.

“Rood is unforgettable,” Scooby added from the ground.

They chuckled, a soothing silence fell over them. Scooby made himself comfortable, his head on Velma’s lap with Fred scratching behind his ears. Daphne turned Shaggy’s back to her and resumed braiding his hair. It was past his shoulders again, she noticed. They would have to decide what style they were going to cut it this time.

“What are we going to tell his gang, man?” Shaggy asked, looking at the street while Daphne’s fingers carted through his scalp.

“What do you mean?” Daphne asked, halfway through a five-strand braid.

“Well, are we going to tell, like, everything to them? Everything? ”

“I don’t see why not, it’s not like we have been the face of secrecy with him, you know,” Fred said, gesturing with his one remaining hand as the other was occupied turning Scooby into goo.

“Dude, I ain't talking about the powers and college degrees, that is a different can of worms, I’m talking about us.” Shaggy also started gesturing with his hands, pointing them towards his chest at the end of that particular statement.

“Us?” Fred was confused until Shaggy took his hand, a meaningful look on his hazel eyes.

“Us.”

“But Shaggy, what would be so bad if they knew about our relationship? For all we know, they may be right in the path of starting their own version of it.” Daphne questioned, undoing the five strand braid and starting a french one.

“And that is the problem. We don’t know anything about them. They may be us, but, like, not really us. Maybe nothing goes as they did back home. Then we parade into their lives, like, without knock or warning…”

“And you are afraid that we may accidentally start influencing their decisions or something.” Fred completed, his eyes wild when the information dawned on him.

Velma sprung to her feet, pacing furiously in front of them, her serious face on. “Jinkies, Shaggy is right! At that age, the world was new to us. If an older version of me had appeared to my fifteen old self and told me about my future, I would use all of it as a guideline.”

“But we are not even their future selves, we are from a different dimension altogether. Our lives were shaped by entirely different circumstances.” Daphne contra argued, finishing the french braid carefully to not pull Shaggy’s hair too much.

“It won’t matter. They will see in us models to follow, versions of ‘what could’ or ‘should be’.” Velma sat down once again, both hands under her chin.

“But Shaggy, if you had all these concerns, why didn’t you stop us from talking about our cases? Why expose him to your magic?” Fred asked, looking at his boyfriend expectantly.

“Because these types of things are, like, manageable on the long run, man” Shaggy rubbed his face “Dude, there is a difference between ‘things that I may do when I’m older’ and ‘My future relationship status’. What if we tell them we are together and then they, like, I don’t know, try to force it to happen between them? We,” he pointed to all of them “Clicked together after years of knowing each other, and like, late-night star seeing, but for them? I don’t know where their destiny was going to send them, man. Maybe they end up together. Maybe they would pass the rest of their lives in a harmonious platonic relationship. Maybe they will find love outside of the gang, I don’t know. We could inadvertently cause a sea of heartache.”

Silence fell between them. Fred had to admit that he hadn’t thought about it like that. Daphne hugged Shaggy from behind, her chin on his shoulder, pushing the now made french braid over the other.

“So you think we may cause them harm just by being here?”

Shaggy shrugged “That’s the thing: I don’t know. Not for sure. That’s the problem with interdimensional magic, the rules aren’t as clear cut as, like, time travel ones.” he groaned, resting his head against Daphne’s  “Dude, I hate interdimensional magic. This shit is, like, way trickier than it has any right to be.”

Velma put her finger over her chin. After a minute of silence, she turned towards the gang “I think I get it. In time travel, everything you do affects you personally because you are meddling with your timeline. But once you start interacting with a different dimension you-“

“Your timeline is no longer in the equation.” Daphne completed.

“Exactly, but we are still present in a sense, so our actions will affect the world none less.”

“Just with zero consequences to us.” Fred laid lack on the steps of the city hall entrance, dissociating after such a bomb was thrown in his lap.

“So, we could tell this younger gang about our relationship and then go back to our dimension unaffected…” Daphne turned her body away from the bannister, no longer using it as a seat but as a support. Her arms crossed and her face contorted into a frown as she looked at Fred on the ground.

“But live behind a gang that may not be compatible romantically with each other trying to force themselves together and end up with a nice bucked off emotional issues” Shaggy also turned towards the gang, but remained seated on the bannister in a lotus position.

Daphne covered her face with both hands, her voice muffled “God, I hated having this kind of discussions in Philosophy class, applying them to real-life doesn’t make them better.”

“Well, we have left the room of hypotheses and entered headfirst in an actual ‘non-consequences free’ zone, so is bound to suck harder now. Be glad that you are not being graded by this particular dive into madness.” Velma smirked at the purple-clad girl who threw one of her patented glares.

“Thank you, Velma, for your kind words.”

“I’m here to serve” she mockingly bowed.

They laughed over the girls’ shenanigans. They were giggly since they arrived in this weird new world and they sure hoped it was no psychological effect of being so unceremoniously launched into the unknown. They, still laughing, set all in the steps of the city hall, side by side. Scooby was giving them worried looks. Not a good sight.

“So, what do you guys suggest we tell them?” Daphne was the first one to sober up from the laughing fit, cleaning the tears from the corners of her eyes.

“What they ask of us. Our best tactic now is to not lie. Lies have short legs and can easily trip” Fred said, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

“Especially when you are lying to a bunch of junior detectives.” Added Velma.

“Exactly, so if they ask about something that we deem reality shattering we tell half of the truth or we find a way to change the subject until we figure out if the information could or not have lasting effects. That way we would not be technically lying to them and at the same time we avert any emotional fallout.” Fred had a faraway look in his eyes, probably thinking about all the topics that he simply didn't want to touch again even with a ten feet long pole.

This dimension Jones Sr. better not be a masked villain too or he was going to deck him in the face.

“…When I had that one dream about becoming one of the faes, these were not the circumstances that I thought it would go down.” Daphne had a disbelieving look on her face, looking at her back as if she was expecting a pair of wings to sprout from there.

“I, like, will have to explain the magic, even if not all of it. Even if I erased his memory of the van merging -with by the way I will not do- magic always finds a way of being discovered. It’s, like, better we explain to them now instead of them finding out later by other means.” Shaggy said, remembering that one memorie in Salem where he and Daphne were accused of witchcraft. He was partially offended that the thing that put her in the stake by his side was not any magical prowess on her part and it was more in the line of “Adult Woman With Opinions Are The Devil”.

“Yeah, you said something about mind magic being volatile” Velma turned to him, always curious about magic and its applications and side effects. She was dead set in proving that magic was just another form of science, albeit more flashy. Shaggy thought that if anyone was going to prove that would be the small woman.

“It’s like magical brain surgery. Like, one wrong move and I give the boy an aneurysm. This kind of spell is for casters that have, like, one-third of my anxiety and nothing more.”

The day barely began in Crystal Cove and they had all these problems to think about. The exhaustion was slowly but surely creeping on them. Fred was feeling old. They were all feeling old. Everything was moving at a breakneck pace and seemed to never stop. A new world, new people, new gang, new problems. They prayed that nothing more was added to the list.

“I can wait for this all to settle down so I can find the closest bed and bloody shut down all my bodily functions.” Fred groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Same.” Was the unison response.

Silence.

Is either silence or laughter. That could not be healthy.

“Wait, does this mean no kissing???” Shaggy exclaimed which earned three hands flying over his mouth.

“Not in public, at least. It's a small town on the coast, isolated from major cities by some good miles, most people know each other one way or another” Fred said, removing his hand slowly.

“Yeah, and they would especially notice if the mayor's son was caught kissing all four of his friends” Added Velma, her hand leaving his mouth to find a place on his shoulder.

“Or, like, kissing said friend’s necks and behind their ears” Shaggy sighed, resigned to the ‘non-affection beyond normal friendly’ future.

“Nice just what we- Wait a second, ‘behind their ear’? Since when does Fred kiss behind ears??” Daphne turned her head so fast that Shaggy was afraid she may break her neck with the speed. When her head didn’t fall off her shoulders, Shaggy finally registered what she said.

“Like, since that one afternoon in grad year, on the roof of the culinary building. I thought he did it to all of us ” Brown eyes looked confused between blue and purple eyes, while said purple eyes were now glaring a hole thru the blue eyes owner's skull.

“Fredrick Jones, what affection partiality bullshit is this?”

“Yeah, Fred what gives?” Now pair of brown eyes was glaring at him, the glare somehow amplified by a pair of glasses, and Fred wanted nothing more than to flee towards the nearest desert to avoid vaporization.

“Ok, in my defence, none of you girls does the little shiver that he does when I kiss you guys there and believe me, I checked” He could feel the intense blush in his face and he just knew that he looked like a blond tomato right now.

“Shivers?” Daphne’s glare lost some of its intensity, her curiosity about new information about one of her lovers superseding her perceived slight.  

Velma’s glare also mellowed down, her eyes now zeroed on Shaggy, who was doing his best to turn into a strawberry from how red he had suddenly turned.

“Yup. They run up and down his spine like a bolt of electricity. He gets all flustered, the most beautiful shade of carmine I have ever seen.” No longer under fear of vaporization via death glare, Fred perked up, a smile of one thousand volts on his face. He loved talking about his loved ones.

“Like, Freddie, man, come on” Redder by the second, Shaggy’s shoulders were perked, covering his ears. God, why didn’t he study those morphing spells more? He would give anything to be a rock right about now.

“Oooooh, so our Norvy darling is a shivery shiver boy, huh?” Daphne smirked, leaning against Shaggy, one arm going around his shoulder, essentially caging him from any last-minute spring to the mountains.

“I will pay you actual money to never say that again” He turned his head in the redhead direction, officially reaching ‘completely red’ status.

“Oh? But is the truth, isn’t it? Freddie is not one for lies.” Velma piped in, a mischievous look on her face.  

“Are you lying, Freddie?” Daphne turned towards him, her own mischievous look making her purple eyes shine.

“I would never. Scots honour” Fred, the traitor, put a hand over his heart, the picture of sincerity. On second thought, maybe instead of turning into a rock, he could turn Fred into a rock.

“What do you say to me and Daph test it out? Just to see it for ourselves…” Velma gravitated to his other side. With Fred right in front of him, he was completely trapped.

Note to self: LEARN THE GODDAMN ROCK MORPHING SPELL!!!

Giggling like the villains they are, his lovers got closer and closer, their minds probably a mile a minute in all the ways they are going to make him have a cardiac arrest from the blushing alone when...

“Ah, ruys? Rhat rabout that rhing rabout rublic?” Scooby, the one that was the current owner of the brain cell of the gang apparently, commented from the ground. Those kids took too much influence from that Addams couple they met all those years ago. It had to be, because Scooby could NOT, for the life of him, remember them being THIS horny.  One of these days he was going to get a cardboard box and write ‘HORNY JAIL’ in it to live them in time out.

The trio deflated, the wind completely blew out of their sails while Shaggy signed in relief, no longer trapped in the soon to be kiss cocoon…

And he was disappointed for some ungodly reason!

Lined side by side on the stone bannister, the gang groaned in frustration.

“I hate this already,” Shaggy grumbled, his red cheeks puffed.

“Yeah.” The other three agreed.

Scooby muffled a laugh. God, these next days are going to be an amazing shitshow to watch unfold. He gave them one week before they broke down.

Another groan came from the young adults, shoulder to shoulder, their heads touching, soaking in the small scrap of contact that they could have.

On second thought, a week may be too generous.

All of sudden, they could hear footsteps approaching from inside the building. Young Fred had a smile on his handsome face, putting his phone away as he walked.  

“Hey, guys. Hope I didn’t make you wait too long” He was waving at them, smiling.

Young Fred was really happy with the presence of this new gang. They seemed so comfortable together, he hoped that they could all hang out. They could go to the beach, eat some Fruitmeir’s. They could even build traps together! He should ask them later.

“Nah, we barely noticed.” Daphne waved back “We were just chatting a little bit, nothing big.”

They had become really good liars along the years, huh.

“So, where now? Did you talk with your gang?” Fred, the older, asked his younger counterpart, making his way towards the van, Scooby softly head butting his left hand earning him a nice pat.

“I called them and told them to meet me at the radio station. It’s owned by a friend of ours that helps us from time to time”

“Groovy! Lead the way” Shaggy smiled, snapping his fingers in rapid succession, making Young Fred laugh. 

We talk about this more later after we meet their gang and take a good long nap.

Three different winks of affirmation. Morse code is coming in handy in these weird times.

“Hey, does that radio station have any maps of the town? Not that I don’t enjoy you helping with directions, but I was hoping to familiarize myself better with the place” Daphne casually hopped to young Fred’s side, looping her arm over his shoulders, a sweet smile on her purple lipstick.  

“Sure thing, Angel must have some lying around. I could show you the library too so you could look for them yourself” Young Fred suggested, lining on the embrace. He and his Daphne should do this more, it was nice.

“Really???” Her smile got impossibly brighter, bouncing in place like a child at a candy store. Young Fred soon found himself locked in a bear crushing hug, the older woman long red hair tickling his nose. “Thanks, Little Freddie, you’re the best”

He hugged her back, a soft look on his face. He had hugged his Daphne before, but this hug felt fundamentally different. Maybe it was her age difference with his best friend or the way she looked at him like he was the most precious thing she had ever seen. Maybe it was the effect of having talked with her about all his trap ideas during the journey here, her attention never wavering.

Maybe it was a combination of all of them. He didn’t know.

That didn’t stop, however, the small part in the back of his mind telling him that this is what a mother embrace felt like.

“Ah chucks, it’s nothing really. What are friends for?”

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 40)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5, Lewis POV 7

Part 41: here

. 

VIVI POV

It is weird visiting the Pepper’s Diner without Lewis. Vivi has never been the friend with the car so Lewis or Arthur had always picked her up whenever she visited, meaning she’s never been here without at least one of them present.

Now, Vivi stands in the empty car park, trying not to look at the spot on which Arthur had been shot and Lewis had almost bled out. The memories of trying to frantically to help them both while knowing she would only have time to save one come unbidden, crowding at the forefront of her mind. She swallows, trying to shake the image and focus on locating Arthur’s van instead. Even as she scans the empty lot, her thoughts turn away from the task and back to that night.

Lewis had told her to help Arthur. Those had been his last words to her.

Vivi had already been in the process of helping Arthur so it was logical for her to continue.

Arthur was the less injured of the two, so had a better chance of survival.

Arthur was the rational choice.

If her dad hadn’t arrived when he did, then Lewis might have died, blood slowly spreading across the concrete, staining it red. If Mystery hadn’t done whatever weird supernatural thing he’d done to slow their blood loss...she doesn't want to think about it. 

/The rain has washed away any remaining scent. We will have to do a visual search./

Vivi blinks and there is no blood, no Arthur, no Lewis. There is only the silent structure of Pepper Paradiso, windows dark and lifeless. She rubs her hands together to rid them of the sudden chill creeping through her limbs, before folding then under Lewis’s borrowed jacked and hugging her chest.

“Ye…” She takes a shaky breath, “Yeah. I figured. The van can’t have been parked too far away though. It would have been pretty hard to walk around all these rocks and cactus in the pitch black even with a lightning storm overhead.”

/ A reasonable assumption. / Mystery is eyeing with something akin to worry, head tilted to one side.

She ignores him, walking past to scan for any sign of the van. Unlike that night, the sky is clear with a half-moon just peeking above the horizon, casting a faint grey light over the flat landscape. A gentle breeze tugs gently at her hair. The body snatcher wouldn’t have come from the westward side of the diner because she’d been looking out that way at the time, talking on the phone with her dad. Surely, she would have noticed its approach between all the lightning strikes.

“You head that way…maybe thirty feet or so. We’re going to search in a grid around the diner,” She points out to the main road adjacent to the diner, tracing it in the air with a finger to what she thinks is thirty feet, “We’ll work our way out from the road, moving in opposite directions away from the diner. Let me know when you find it.”

Mystery nods a confirmation but doesn’t move off immediately, opting to instead watch her with increasing concern. Vivi deliberately turns away from him, moving out from the building and off the concrete, picking her way across the uneven landscape, pulling out her phone for additional light.  Eventually, she hears the click of Mystery’s claws as he begins his search, jumping from rock to rock and disappearing amongst the low desert shrubs. Vivi lets her shoulders slump, all the stress and activity of the past few days finally catching up to her, weighing on her.  She shakes herself and pulls the jacket tight. With her phone’s dim flashlight barely providing enough light to see her own feet, it’s hard to avoid tripping over rocks and dips in the ground. It may look flat, but the desert is full of indents and holes. On the bright side, the rough terrain meant the van was probably closer to the road because there was no way anyone could drive very far across this. 

If the van is even out here at all. 

Doubt curls in her gut. 

What if she’d wrong about this too?

Across the darkened landscape the moon finally makes it fully over the horizon line. A new chill descends as the last of the day’s heat evaporates into the night. Vivi persists, continuing until the diner has faded into an outline. Nothing jumps out at her as being strange. It’s just empty in all directions.

/I have found it./

When Mystery finally calls an end to the search Vivi’s eyes are hurting with the strain of squinting.

“Where?”

Mystery’s telepathic projections don’t have a huge range so he must be nearby. She turns, twisting around to scan the darkness. A flash of white fur catches the moonlight. Mystery nimbly leaps over an outcropping of cactus in her direction, pausing to motion with a paw back the way he’d come.

/This way./

They make their way slowly back in the direction of the highway before turning to walk parallel to the road. A car flashes by, momentarily blinding her and she stops to blink away the bright splotches which briefly overtake her vision. The walk feels doubly long with how tied she’s becoming. 

Finally, Mystery turns back into the desert, following a sloping incline downward into a ditch where she spots a familiar orange rectangle. No wonder no one had found the van yet. Unless you were searching specifically for it, it would be almost impossible to see from either the diner or the highway.

Vivi exhales a long, hard breath of pure relief, hurrying to overtake Mystery.

Slowly, she circles the van, stretching up to shine her phone-light through the front window and into the shadowed interior. The seats of the van appear normal. There is an empty fast food bag and it looks like someone has tipped the glove compartment onto the ground. She peers further in, noting that their camping gear is no longer in neat piles but messy and scattered about. Nothing stands out as human-body shaped. She steps away.

“No dead bodies,” She tells Mystery, watching him finish his own circuit of the van, sniffing, eyes narrow.

/I smell blood. Quite a bit of it. The stench of that abomination is also strong./

“You can smell the body snatcher? Wouldn’t it just smell like Arthur?” Vivi questions even as she begins trying all the van’s doors in the hope that one is unlocked.

/These creatures are unnatural and they always leave behind aberrations. I suppose ‘smell’ is the wrong word. It would be more akin to recognising energy residue. Most spiritual energy does not originate from the physical plane. Thus, it always leaves behind some sort of stain./

Vivi rubs her forehead. She has questions. Of course, she has questions. Anytime Mystery says anything related to the supernatural she is left with only questions. Vivi files the information away for future contemplation, distracted when the van’s back doors open unexpectedly.

Both her and Mystery pause and glance at each other. 

Cautiously, she pulls it fully open and peers in. The first thing she notes is Arthur’s keyring, sitting discarded atop a mess of upturned boxes and camping gear. It looks like it had been tossed aside without thought or care. Arthur always took good care of the van’s keys, carrying them on him at all times, so it immediately strikes her as odd. But then, it isn’t only Arthur that they're dealing with.

“Weird,” She mutters, reaching to pick them up.

/Do not touch that./

She freezes, hand hovering. Mystery leaps up into the van, knocking over an open container of cooking utensils which rattle out onto the rocks, clanking off the hard surface. He sniffs the keys, huffing with disgust.

/It is covered in blood. It has a similar scent to that car. Also, I fear I smell Lance’s blood here as well…/ Mystery flicks the keys with his nose so they clatter to the ground at her feet, turning to clamber around the van, snuffling as he goes.

“Lance’s blood…” Vivi repeats, stomach sinking. There’s a lot of dirt -which probably isn’t dirt- covering the pocket knife Arthur has attached to his keys. Blood.

/Hmmm…this does not appear promising./ Mystery pops out of the van again, holding a piece of cloth in his teeth. He jumps free and drops the fabric onto the ground next to the keyring. She bends to pick it up, pinching a corner so she can lift it without touching anything. It’s one of Arthur’s shirts, apricot in colour, and splattered with darkened brown stains. More blood. She thinks she recognises the shirt as the one he had been wearing at the motel.  

/Whoever this second individual is, their smell is all over the van./

Vivi frowns, clenching her fist. “Do you think they’re dead?”

/Most likely./

“…Shit…”

She tosses the shirt back into the van, bending to pick up the keyring, carefully detaching the keys before throwing the pocketknife after the shirt. She slams the doors, breathing heavily, hands resting on the metal. She rides out a sudden wave of nausea threatening her merger lunch. So there had been a third person involved. Probably, this person was someone Arthur knew. Arthur had most likely been an unwilling accessory to the murder of someone he knew. That's not counting being forced to attack his uncle. Poor Arthur. She can’t even imagine what it must have been like. If only she’d got to him faster. If only she’d gone out to help him after Arthur’s fight with Lewis back at the motel. If she’d been with him that morning then she could have stopped him from running off to check his uncle all alone. Instead,  she’d decided to stay and console Lewis first. The wrong decision. She’d failed them both.

/Arthur would not have been able to stop this violence. These parasitic creatures are masters of all forms of manipulation./

“I’m not…I wouldn’t blame Arthur. Never,” She hisses.  Herself on the other hand….

/Neither is it your fault./ Mystery continues as if reading her mind /You could not have known. I should have been the one to act. I suspected foul play long before it was confirmed./

“You’re the family pet. I’m his best friend. I should have done something sooner.” Her voice sounds uncharacteristically hash even to her own ears. She ignores how Mystery grimaces.

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter now. I need to get rid of this evidence or Arthur’s going to get caught up in whatever ongoing investigation spawns when the police realise that whoever owned that other car is missing.” She still doesn’t know who this person is, and she doesn’t particularly care. Arthur would care probably. She didn’t.  Whether they were an employee of Kingsman Mechanics, a friend of Lance’s, some Tempo resident, it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was keeping Arthur as safe as possible with what little ability she had and if that meant destroying evidence then so be it.

She takes a breath, energised now she’s sure of her next move.

“We can’t leave the van here. Luckily, no one’s found it yet but we can’t count on that to continue.” As she speaks, she walks back around to the front seat, key in hand. Mystery follows. “There’s a ton of evidence here. Blood splatters, hair fibres, fingerprints. That’s not including Arthur’s pocketknife as a possible murder weapon.”

/You plan to hide the van./

“No. Not good enough. I don’t want this to come back and bite us later.”

She’s done making bad choices. Vivi starts up the engine and the van jerks rattling like it needs some proper maintenance. Arthur would have never let it get into such a state. She ignores the pang of guilt, driving recklessly over the rocks, dirt and sand and back onto the road. For what she has planned, the van wouldn’t need to be in any sort of drivable condition for much longer

“We’ll burn it,” She elaborates once they are back on the highway.  “That way, even if it is found, no one will be able to tie it to any missing person case resulting from that thing controlling Arthur. In theory anyway...”

She knows a place that is secluded enough that she would probably be able to get away with setting the van on fire and not draw a ton of attention. A place where she could leave it and not have it immediately discovered. Somewhere that wasn’t so far away meaning it would be possible for her to walk back to the diner with Mystery after she was done.

“Can you cast an illusion big enough to hide the flames?” She is sure she’s acting overly paranoid now but better safe than sorry. Though secluded, the area she’s thinking of is still in view of the road.

/I will have to transform to expand my illusion's range./

“Right.” Vivi glances at Mystery who’s taken his usual position beside her in the front. The concern is still creasing his expression and she quickly refocuses on the road. The last time she had seen Mystery’s kitsune form had been that night. Not a pleasant memory. The sight of Mystery looming over Lewis, all teeth and raw natural fury, glowing bright against an almost black backdrop, had been a constant in the recent spate of nightmares which had spawned from the event. Not that she had slept enough to have many nightmares.

The rest of the trip is silent and, in-between bouts of nervous energy, Vivi can almost pretend she is back with Arthur and Lewis, checking out some new local ghost sighting, laughing and joking. It is a short-lived reprieve as she is quickly turning into the small clearing, sandwiched between rock formations and overlooking a three-meter drop into a small ravine. Supposedly, the area was haunted by some disgruntled cattle rustler, run afoul of the law, chased into the ravine during ye-oldie times.  She feels silly thinking back on how serious she’d taken that investigation. 

“Was any of this stuff anywhere near real?” She asks, driving the van as close the edge as possible.

/ I believe most occurrences of the supernatural, as humans understand it, are merely echoes of past interference./  Mystery scans the cliffs, /If there was any otherworldly influence here, it has long faded./

“I guess that makes sense.” She mutters, distracted as she eyes the vegetation around her. It is sparse, so she doesn’t think it’ll be much of a fire hazard.

“You’ll be able to stop this from spreading and starting any other fires, right?”

Mystery hums to himself and begins to glow. Particles of light cling to his coat like dust motes, fading into the air around him. Unlike that night, the transformation is smooth, air shimmering and flowing over his physical form like water as he expanded to take up more space. Five tails fan out, splitting away from each other, opening like the petals of a flower before swaying languidly from side to side in an almost hypnotic pattern. 

/In this form I can stifle the flames if they become too much or contain the fire within a barrier./

Her breath catches and she nods stiffly, barely hearing him, too focused on how Mystery’s eyes flash bright red when he speaks. Bright, brilliant, red. Her hesitation is spotted and Mystery lowers head and tails, making himself smaller.

/I frighten you?/

Maybe it’s the lack of life-threatening conditions but Mystery's presence is not as dominating as it had been that night. There is less force behind his voice. Less raw anger. Even his tails seam to sag like they are taking on too much weight.

/I am sorr…/

“Save it…” She interrupts what was sure to be another in a long line of empty apologies, “Just… stand a bit over there, okay.”

Mystery seems to deflate further, wilting like a dying plant wanting for rain. The anxiety in her chest loosens ever so slightly.

With only the slightest hint of further hesitation, she begins riffling through the van's camping gear, pulling out a small jerrycan of fuel and dumping it out over the vehicle's interior. Next, she’s digging around for the fire starters and any spare lighter fluid to increase flammability. Out comes the blue zippo lighter with cool snowflake patterning.  She holds it indecisively, flipping it open. The small flame dances, bright in the night-time. Funnily, this will be the first time she uses this lighter. First and last.

This was it. Goodbye van. The van that had been a feature of her friendship with Arthur and Lewis for almost as long as she’d known them.

"Sorry Arthur.”  Another apology for the collection.  

She throws the lighter through the van’s open back doors. The fuel catches and flames spring up, spreading quickly. Soon, long tongues of fire are licking at the windows. A series of small cracks appear in the glass, spiderwebbing out. The heat is intense and she backs away so as not to accidentally burn herself. Sounds of snapping and popping echo in the ravine, the noise trapped by the rocks and cliffs.  Vivi watches the interior of the van blacken, metal reddening and warping. Dark smoke twists upward and disappears into the night.

.

Note: An update in honour of the new MSA: Future :) Enjoy!

Part 41: here

[commander-orca]

COTW FANFICTION

CHAPTER 9: THE BROKEN AT EACH OTHER’S THROATS

“Hello Kannavi! Itia greeted, stepping into the infirmary through the front door.

She wore a tunic from here she’d been given on the first day, after the treatments. Her brown hair, still very soberly tied, was discreetly tousled by the wind and her monocle bore the traces of the sun on the glass. She seemed relaxed and the smile on her face, although shocking at first had gradually become one of the expressions she was wearing the most.

"… Hello Itia," the latter replied hesitantly, looking up from his remedies. "Tell me, weren't you supposed to stay in bed for five more days here so the wounds would heal well?" "

Itia nodded in his direction, keeping her smile, bathed in warm light.

“No worries, I'm counting on it. It’s just that I’ve gone out to listen to Suoh's speech.

-Ah. And how was it? "

The young woman raised her palms to the sky, showing that she had no particular opinion.

" I don’t know. He didn't show up.

-Oh ".

The rays of sunshine which accompanied her arrival faded once the door closed with a heavy slam and the room was plunged back into the shadow. Itia quickly took off her shoes and hung her jacket on the coat rack. Kannavi’s eyes followed her as she strolled across the room to her assigned bunk to sit comfortably, legs under the sheets. She breathed peacefully, her chest heaving in regular gusts of air and was mentally present. This carefree, almost lazy air was also new to her, who always seemed wary in Empire territory. Kannavi kept his inner remark to himself and went back to work, rolling up his sleeves.

He was busy crushing herbs in a mortar, then pounding them with a roller, doing a bit of a botched job. He had fallen behind on the chores he had been given for today since he had failed to wake up on time. Fortunately, the infirmary was half empty, most of the patients were still sleeping and Itia's excursion benefitted him well since she didn't seem to have noticed that he had only emerged from bed half an hour ago. Using the excuse of a new environment disrupting his sleep schedule might work for a while, but people here would eventually find out that he wasn’t actually very punctual. However, keeping up appearances for a while wasn't bad in itself; this would allow him to form a new, more flattering temporary image before inevitably one would decide to fire him. In addition, this job was not stressful and did not have the constraints of a superior on your back screaming at you all day that you sucked, unlike back in the Empire. This job was pretty relaxing. So, Kannavi would push himself to work hard and try to stay affiliated for as long as possible.

There were only a few things that really mattered in his life. Making sure you didn't end up on the streets or in jail was one of the most important things. The rest didn't matter. Since childhood, he had had little free will in the end, lugged from family to family like a trinket. Then the army. All these things had been decided for him, without him having a say or being able to influence the course of it and yet, it did not bother him that much. Making decisions for oneself seemed to affect people with crippling anguish and give them all the tools for an even stronger grudge against themselves. That didn't mean he wasn't attached to anything. The young nurse was careful never to stray too far from Orca. But Kannavi preferred his little quiet position; the rudder of his life was not in his hands, he was content being carried by life, chance, people, and if he found himself in an unpleasant situation, he would only have to wait until it would pass. Knowing that we wasn’t at fault for the misfortunes that befell him, or those of others, was a calming thought.

The water in the pot began to boil and he set the temperature to low. He lifted the lid, added the few mint leaves he had pre-cut and the herbal powder he had crushed. The water immediately took on a reddish tint. He replaced the lid on the container.

Rather than a fear of trying or failing, the reason was outrightly simpler than that: Kannavi really didn't wish for anything. Nothing really arose any desires and that surge of excitement others sometimes had looking at their goal from afar, motivating them to work harder, was relatively unknown to him.

"Excuse me if I'm disturbing ...", asked suddenly Itia's voice hatching through the hissing of the pan, "But can I talk to you about something?" 

Kannavi raised an eyebrow, astonished by this wording. People never came to him for serious discussions. Hands caught in the herbs, he continued to extract their juice and stir it vigorously in a bowl. Without looking back, he said:

“It depends on what you want to talk about. I am often told that I am not very delicate, you know ... "

Behind his back, Itia's voice grew more hesitant. The blankets had just moved and she too, making the slats of the bed creak. Outside, a gust of wind shook the windows and the shutters creaked against the walls; the weather was getting colder.

"I know, but ... I have the impression that you are the only one who can really enlighten me on that topic”.

-Mmh. Go ahead... "

At that moment, the door to the infirmary swung open and cracked loudly against the back wall. A clear, confident voice exclaimed, echoing through the room:

“Kannavi! "

Itia jumped up and fell silent, crouching in the back of her bunk, disappointed. Taken by surprise, Kannavi whirled around, his gloves dripping with berry juice beading on the floor. Orca strode towards him. He looked cheerful and more light-hearted than he had been in the past few days, which reassured him. When he had visited his friend at his place a few days ago, Orca had subtly tried to hold him back, stealing part of his night before he had returned to his own hut. The young nurse suspected nightmares, linked to their last adventures perhaps ... However, he was dumbfounded to find him here; usually, he refrained from visiting the most vulnerable and from mingling in the places where the inhabitants gathered.

Orca grabbed his shoulders, half laughing, half teasing. His pale hair twitched at the rhythm of his smile.

"Kannavi, I thought I was going to die of laughter ... I walked out of the council and ... Saw you take a sprint all the way here half-dressed ... I see someone overslept again!

The nurse gritted his teeth and turned a quarter of a turn to glance over his shoulder; he could feel stares on him. Awakened by this sudden animation in the infirmary, a few patients sat in their beds and were now staring at them with a disapproving air. Kannavi grabbed him by the arm, a small displeased pout clearly visible on his face. What an idiot. The duality of his personality was probably a little too strong at times: playing the eloquent strategist at important meetings and immediately switching to a carefree joker when he was no longer doing anything related to his personal affairs and interests. That was probably why he got into so much trouble.

"Oru ... Lower your voice a bit!  Come to the back-shop ... And you just ruined my coverage! I'm going to be fired now ... "

Orca took a quick look around and looked as though he had finally realized the presence of the convalescents. He immediately put his hand to his lips, feeling sorry. Nodding, he quietly followed the direction his friend was pointing. But it would have been to be underestimating Itia who sat up on her pillows, looking furious and threw her legs to the side, ready to jump.

“Wait… Kannavi !?, Itia exclaimed, whose mind had just connected the dots to Orca's words,“Did I hear correctly? You just arrived ?

-Uh ... "

Kannavi readjusted his apron, looking for something to make up or justify. But frankly, there wasn't much to say… He sighed, giving up any attempt to lie.

Orca watched him, putting his hand over his mouth once again, but most likely hiding a chuckle this time around.

“Itia, please come too. If you want to reprimand me, reprimand me in the back-shop”.

Itia got up hastily from her bed, her face closed and fists clenched, and walked in a straight line towards the storage room.

"And that I will do," she muttered through her teeth. "You too, Sir Orca".

Orca raised a few fingers awkwardly at her as she walked past him, a sly smile on his lips.

“Hello Itia.

"Hello Sir Orca," Itia retorted, coldly, as if she had just returned a mockery.

Her figure disappeared under the beaded curtain that separated the main room from the storage area. The brown beads tinkled for a few moments, knocking against each other, hinting between their strings the shape of a shelf and medical posters stuck against the yellowed walls, then froze again, giving the curtain the air of a real wall. Silence fell in the infirmary. Orca exchanged a look with Kannavi, Kannavi's wide eyes meant he was expecting to be given some wild dressing down. His friend nodded, pulling his long hair to the side and shrugging, silently exposing him that he didn't know what he had done to get there. The two men followed her, both looking constrained and sheepish. Kannavi entered the storeroom and leaned against one of the shelves containing the syringes, stethoscopes, and other essentials. Orca removed a stack of papers from the old chair and sat down, bringing the papers to his knees. Itia, for her part, closed the door to the storeroom and remained standing in order to appear more authoritative. She crossed her arms, looking at them in turn, saying nothing. Orca turned his head, pretending to be captivated by the medical scale. He whispered faintly to his friend:

"Ah ... I don't like it when she does that." It means she will -

- Tell me, are you not being serious ?! "

Orca stopped talking immediately, blinking several times. Fury shook Itia's voice, the two of them didn't have to look at her to know that.

"Do you think you are on a vacation or staying at a hotel? Think you can afford to skip your assigned duties and lounge around all day ?! "

“Itia…” Kannavi began, taken aback, “I must have told you already, but… I'm not very good at keeping a job. But I’m trying, obviously. I don't want to lose this job, it's the quietest I've had so far ... "

Itia's face took on a more scarlet color. Swooping down on the young nurse, she grabbed one of the flyaway locks sticking out of his head.

"I can’t believe it! Is that all you care about, Kannavi ?!

–Not my hair Itia, please, ”he begged,“ They still have to grow! "

Orca stared at them, alarmed and hastened to cover his own hair with his hands.

Itia released a panicked Kannavi and walked away. In the corner of the room was an old, moth-eaten desk, neglected because of its disparate surface area that made it difficult to disinfect. The young woman grabbed it with both hands and pulled it with her. She brought it to the center of the room, in front of the two men, after much effort and squeaking. Perched on the table, her legs hanging out to the side, she smirked. It was a more than satisfying sight: these two slackers, looking at her from below, somewhat tense, anticipating what her next move would be. A rare sight that neither of them turned a deaf ear to her or only half-listened to her! But, remembering what she had to say, she lost her smile and granted them a serious expression.

“I believe you’re still caught up in your illusions or you just don't realize, but these people are our only chance to have a normal and maybe even happy life. We hurt them tremendously, many of them died under our attacks. And yet, they’re forgiving us! "

She paused, scrutinizing them closely. Strangely, a glimmer of full attention burned in Kannavi's eyes and he had shed his slumped position. On the contrary, Orca was looking away, occasionally smoothing out the folds of his dress over his crossed leg.dominant, but his wiggling pupils in their sockets, proved that he was also drinking her words.

“We need to give them reasons to trust us a and to have forgiven us! If all goes well, maybe they will allow us to live here. It would be convenient, we who have nowhere to go now! But it is not by botching your work - Itia stared firmly at Kannavi - or by doing nothing - she let a glare fall on her superior - that they will come to consider such a thing!

Kannavi held up a quiet hand, hoping to be able to place a word. He made a small thoughtful sound, but avoided completely contradicting the young woman. His hair still had a long life ahead of it.

"Excuse me, Itia, but I think Orca does a lot for the Clay Whale. He participates in all the councils and has recently started on guard tours ... "

Orca turned his head towards him, eyebrows raised. Itia scowled, looking annoyed. Her hands took the shape of a triangle as she looked up at the ceiling light.

"I know that, Kannavi, but you see, I think Sir Orca has to work twice as hard as we need to."

“Not to the point of collapsing anywa—” the other protested, before being interrupted by Orca who had placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, as if making a call for him to stop.

“No need, Kannavi. She's right. I have to try harder ”.

Kannavi stared at him flatly; Orca was already very involved. Was it possible to try harder? Itia, meanwhile, fixed her pair of eyes on the commander, as if she was rediscovering him. He rarely admitted his wrongs. It was a good thing, it put her in a good mood.

“Anyway, we owe them a lot and I think it is essential for us to help. I can clearly see the efforts of Sir Orca ", she resumed, in a more tender voice,"And I see, given the level of fatigue he has shown in recent days, that he’s worked a lot ".

Even though, embarrassed at the thought that he had plausibly caused her chickweed, her superior lowered his head.

"Get more involved ... What I mean by that is that I find you oddly withdrawn, Sir Orca," Itia said, a soft and compassionate smile dawning on her lips. “You should dare more to sympathize with them. Regain self-confidence. The people of the Clay Whale also recognize you as the one who saved them from an undisputable disaster now ... "

With that, her superior looked away again. Itia, who continued to look at him, began to swing her legs off the top of the old desk, having lost track for a moment. Kannavi took hold of the silence to think about something that had just re-appeared in his thoughts. Itia had said she wanted to talk to him on a certain subject. A subject on which only he could enlighten her ...

"Well ... I'm aware that I haven't done much myself either. I have caused concern and as an injured person I require extra work. I hope I can get down to business soon.”

- You must not feel guilty Itia. These injuries are not your fault… I'm sure you'll find a way to be useful here and fit in really well, ”Kannavi assured him.

The young woman smiled at him, thanking him with a nod, then her gaze fell on Orca who had risen from his chair and dusted his dress vigorously. Itia put her hand towards him as if to hold him back, then hid her hand behind his back.

"Leaving already, Sir Orca?" "

Orca's bangs slid to the side as he swiveled his head towards her to fix her in amusement.

"You give us nice talks about the usefulness of being productive but find it useful to just sit there twiddling your thumbs?" "

Itia scowled and crossed her arms again.

“We’re not twiddling our thumbs. I argue with you for the best. You could have waited for me to finish! "

Orca raised his eyebrows, not losing that mocking smile.

" Well ?

"M-Make an effort to get along with people, please," Itia grumbled, irritated by his impatience and rudeness, “And be more polite”.

Her boss gave one last cheeky little smile before nodding and walking out the door. He arched his back to squeeze under the curtain. The young nurse followed him with his eyes, inwardly amused by this vision; Orca was almost too tall for the dimensions of the Whale, and you sometimes thought you saw an intruder in a children's village. In front of him, the young woman came down gracefully from the office and slandered in frustration. Why did he always have to nod with that smirk that seemed to mean he didn't get it?

“Ah! By the way, Itia, you wanted to talk to me about something ...? Kannavi asked.

The young woman seemed to hesitate. After a while, she opened her mouth to start something, but a high-pitched crash suddenly interrupted her. Then, bursts of voices. Dismayed, Kannavi got up immediately and hurried to the main wing of the infirmary. Itia sighed loudly. You could never have calm for a second here ... Following the nurse, she stepped through the beaded curtain and froze, just like him at her side. The two young people found Orca on the other side of the curtain in confrontation with the Prince of Amonlogia. Slightly behind them, the island's chief, Suoh, stared at a small object at his feet, his palms still open suggesting it had once been in his hands. Rochalizo took a step closer to Orca, his concave nose upturned with great contempt.

" What’s your fucking problem!? You’re all quiet now. Think you can get away with this ?! "

The atmosphere that fell on the room had grown heavy. Dozens of pairs of eyes on them, the two leaders stared at each other in silence, exchanging mute threats and disdain. Orca met his gaze, firm, yet not trying to defend himself in the slightest. Rochalizo's heterochromic eyes were very lively, seething with explosive rage. Kannavi focused on the faint marks of saimia appearing on Orca's forearms, jiggling dangerously, then on the Prince's clenched fists which vibrated crescendo on either side of his body; he thought for a moment that they’d come to get into a fight. But the tension dropped somewhat and the latter finally clenched his teeth and exclaimed again in a calmer, hissing voice:

“Go back to the Country, you only cause issues here. Nobody wants you, not even your sister! "

Orca rounded his eyes for a moment, but didn't show more of him  being destabilised. Hiding behind his eyelids and long bangs, he walked out of the room quickly.

Running after him, the young nurse held back the clapper and also rushed outside. Silence fell, sharper this time and suffocating. Itia bit her lip, completely shattered. Presumably unaffected by his surrounding’s unease, Rochalizo crouched down to pick up the pieces of the object - the small sculpture of a tree made of wood, half of the branches and trunk of which had split in two from the shock. . Once gathered between his fingers, he came back to Suoh's height and sought his gaze insistently.

“Suoh? Are you okay ? He jostled you, didn't he? "

The young chief's face darkened a little more and his hands fell against his sides like a relaxed rubber band.

"Hey, answer me," the Prince persisted, scratching his friend's apron with the tips of his blue fingernails. The words were harsh but the gesture was gentle.

Itia could only watch them, feeling deep inside her a great despair threatening to drown her entirely. Was it futile to try to obtain forgiveness from civilians? Rochalizo was not part of the Whale but they seemed to have adopted him for good. The inhabitants, maintaining in their customs a sympathy and a great compassion for others, had never reproached her for not being in her place or for being an enemy, nevertheless, this tradition of 'forgiveness obliges' did not say everything and sometimes she could feel a reminiscent indignation in their hearts, which had not been listened to, for lack of any outlet. Rochalizo's lack of tact was certainly hurtful to those who ran and crashed into it, but Itia appreciated it for the sole reason that she was sure it was the key to understanding how people here felt, what 'they dared not say. The Prince must have had grown up in an environment which had encouraged him to be frank… Itia couldn't say that was wrong, but his harsh words risked causing further clashes.

Did Rochalizo's words hurt Orca by the way? No one could be sure. She would probably go check on him later in order to oversee the mental strength of his superior. Superior who had just caused another incident ... What a pity. She was starting to wonder if her words had really had effect, when Suoh's voice pulled her from her personal introspection.

“Excuse me, Itia. I was dumbfounded for a while and - he gave a light laugh - I must’ve dramatized. After all, it's just a statuette. It is possible to do it again! "

Rochalizo, looking unhappy to have been pushed to the conversation’s background, leaned forward, still trying to get the island chief's attention.

“It's not just a statuette. Remind me how many hours you spent there ?! You have the right to be pissed off.

"As long as it's not human loss, I don't care," Suoh assured, looking serene.

With the broom hanging from the workbench, he too knelt down and quickly collected the last splinters of wood littering the ground that Rochalizo had neglected. Itia was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable. In normal times, she would have paid little attention to it; the misfortunes of others are usually not her problem. Taking care of other people's problems always brought a lot of trouble. However, in this delicate position, his inability to be able to repair the damage caused or to be able to do something to alleviate the situation caused her great distress. Mortified, the young woman bowed before them, not knowing how else to express the guilt that was rising to her head.

“I'm really sorry for what happened. I'm sure Sir Orca didn't wish for any of that to happen, "she stammered a little before coming to herself and stating clearly," You have to know ... He thinks highly of you! "

Rochalizo mumbled something between his teeth that sounded like a:

"Yeah, well when he gets something from it ..."

Itia bowed again, an attempt to renew her assertion. A benevolent smile broke on Suoh's lips. Clasping his hands together in front of his now soft face, he reassured her as best he could.

“No need to apologize, Itia, please. There are still tensions between our two peoples, but it will only get better, - the Prince pulled a pout which was ignored by all - I am convinced of it, believe me! "

The young woman nodded. Suoh was the lung of the island; his patience and the strength of his ideals would guide them. She had no choice, she left it entirely to him. If the Clay Whale and the United Kingdom of Siderasia had managed to come to a diplomatic understanding despite barbaric beginnings, there must be chances of striving for peace between their nations. Tensions would eventually run out of steam and, perhaps, new bonds would blossom, based on a land of mutual trust and aid.

"I'm in your hands, Suoh," Itia repeated, solemnly, her eyes closed.

A ray of sunlight shone through the infirmary, lighting Suoh's face in a golden glow. His long dress shimmered in the light, its whiteness evoking a divine sign, uttering in the room, a moment of peace. His clasped hands tightened more firmly, a proof of his resolve.

" Of course. Our agreement is only partly postponed. After all, even though we are so much more than that, we are all here victims of the Empire, aren't we? "

As they left the building side by side, Rochalizo pulled Suoh by the sleeve, forcing him to slow down. His worried expression, shaded by the red strands falling over his eyes, he seemed to want to give in to anger, before resigning himself. Hoarse and at the same time cracked, like the sound of a candle crackling in the night, he called out in a low voice:

" Hey. Suoh. Your hands are bleeding again”.

Suoh didn't bother to lower his head to the skin covering his joints, unalarmed. He was used to seeing on his hands, those fingernail marks crossing his flesh with scars or bright red gashes barely coagulated, manifestations of his anguish and inner sadness. It was a habit before, a daily sight since the day Sami died. However, knowing that they were engraved deep in his skin, accompanying him in daily adversity, was a sign of comfort inexplicably. It was the evidence that he had survived until then all the most disastrous days and that he had a way of getting rid of strong emotions. Suoh resumed his walk, imperturbably.

“I'll take care of them when I get home.

“No, you're going to take care of them now,” the Prince stubbornly raised his voice.

With force, he grabbed the shoulders of the young chief, standing in front of him to block the way and anchored his eyes in his menacingly.

"And wear bandages. Now."

The threat in his voice was clear, but his nervous twitching lower lip implied another thing.

"I would like to know ...", Rochalizo reiterated, his voice shaken, as Suoh looked down at the stream of blood flowing from his knuckles to his elbows, "... Why you hurt yourself so much these days".

[carewyncromwell]

*hums the Up is Down theme* All right, let’s get the usual stuff for the POTC AU out of the way super quick so we can just jump right in --

Previous part is here -- full tag is here -- alternate version of picture two with a lame attempt at blood is here -- and characters that aren’t mine are Jules Farrier-Weasley @cursebreakerfarrier; Finn McGarry/Davy Jones @theguythatdraws; Samantha O’Connell @samshogwarts; Arjun Singh and Aishwarya Mehra @hogwarts9; and Ellie Hopper @that-ravenpuff-witch! Hope you enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

The crew member Orion sent delivered his Piece of Eight -- his right earring -- to Jules aboard the Revolution. Both Bill and Jules had been concerned about Orion sending it on ahead rather than bringing it back to them himself; they were even more concerned when the fleet of small ships was led by Jae and the Kumiho, rather than by the Artemis. Jacob and Ashe, however, didn’t seem surprised, even though Jacob’s eyes narrowed slightly and he went oddly quiet when he heard the news. If Bill didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he might’ve even seen some guilt in the curly-haired pirate’s face.

Meanwhile Charlie pulled up alongside the Revolution to drop Chia Dalma off safely before the Phoenix rejoined the Blackbird, Naga, and Treasure. Before parting ways, Charlie actually pulled Chia aside.

“So,” he said a bit sheepishly, “guess it’s time, then?”

Chia nodded. She tilted her head slightly to the right in response to how uneasy Charlie looked.

“Something troubles you?” she asked.

“Not trouble, exactly,” said Charlie, offering a smile. “I mean, I’m glad you’ll get to be free. What the Brethren Court did, back then...it was a right rotten thing to do...”

His smile faded. “I guess I just wondered why you called yourself ‘Chia Dalma,’ and not Calypso. I mean -- you are Calypso, right? It’s not like when the spell is broken, you’ll just...disappear, right?”

Chia was taken aback by the concern. Then her pale face softened, betraying genuine fondness.

“You have a noble heart, Charles Weasley,” she said. “I’m afraid that Chia Dalma will cease to be, when the spell is broken. She is human -- I am human...and I no longer will be, when the spell is broken. I will no longer feel things the way I do now, or see things the way I do now...and my perspective once again will be that of an immortal, not a mere human.”

She gave Charlie a reassuring smile.

“But Calypso will not forget what Chia Dalma has seen and learned. Nor will she forget the kindness you showed her.”

The corners of Charlie’s lips turned up too. He brought up a hand and clapped Chia on the shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“And I won’t forget the sea goddess who was once my friend,” he said with a grin.

Meanwhile, on the HMS Lion, Cutler Beckett had assembled his higher-ranked officers on deck to give them their last set of orders. There would be no quarter during the battle, no prisoners taken -- everyone in the pirates’ fleet and in Shipwreck Cove would be wiped out, without exception or mercy. Carewyn could see how hesitant the other officers were, upon hearing this. Percy, in particular, looked very troubled.

“Lord Beckett -- ” he said before he could stop himself, “d-denial of quarter -- surely that isn’t necessary...we have more than enough room to transport prisoners back to Port Royal -- ”

“The pirates themselves wave a flag that represents no quarter,” said Beckett very smoothly without stopping his stride as he walked past the line of officers. “They have not earned the right to it themselves.”

Percy faltered. “W-well...yes, but...they are pirates, sir. Should we not...show a better example, as King’s Men -- ?”

Beckett came to a sharp stop in front of Percy, looking up at the slightly taller man with a rather beady dark eye.

“Do I sense a lack of conviction, Captain Weasley?” he asked, his voice very soft but very dangerous.

Percy stiffened, his freckled face losing quite a bit of its color. The officers surrounding him looked worried too. Rakepick, who was standing a few feet away from the line of soldiers with her arms crossed, didn’t look worried, but her dark blue eyes did narrow grimly upon Percy and Beckett.

“No, sir!” said the red-haired Captain very quickly.

“Ah, then it’s a conflict of interest, perhaps,” said Beckett, his voice becoming a bit harder as his lips spread into a cold smirk.

He leaned in a bit closer, and whispered something else in Percy’s ear that no one else could hear. It made Percy’s entire frame stiffen, his face blanching in horror as his wide brown eyes flickered over to Carewyn.

“Lord Beckett, Captain Weasley’s loyalty to the English Crown is unflappable,” Carewyn said in a very loud, harsh voice. “As is the loyalty of all of our officers. He meant no disrespect, I assure you.”

Beckett looked at her, his eyebrows raised high over his coldly narrowed eyes. As he strode purposefully over to stand in front of Carewyn, all of the officers tensed up even more anxiously, none more so than Percy. Rakepick had uncrossed her arms and was watching the scene unfold like a hawk.

“I certainly hope that is true,” said Beckett very softly. “Treason is -- as we all know -- a death sentence.”

Carewyn met Beckett’s icy gaze head-on, even as he likewise leaned in, his head once again lingering over her shoulder like it had back in his cabin, so that his breath grazed her face.

“I will not punish your brother for his insubordination, as a favor to you. But I expect proper gratitude on your part. After all, I’m already doing quite a favor for you already, allowing you and him to remain among the ranks.”

Carewyn’s almond-shaped blue eyes narrowed, but she refused to look at him or speak. Beckett’s face grew a bit colder still as he tilted his head enough that his lips were mere inches from her ear.

“Don’t forget, Admiral,” he whispered, and there was an odd satisfaction creeping into the corners of his pitiless voice, “your loyalty is, first and foremost, mine.”

He then moved away, turning his focus back to the rest of the officers with his more usual, detached sort of expression.

“Attack when ready -- no prisoners, no mercy. You’re dismissed.”

The officers all saluted and immediately bustled off to head back to their ships. Carewyn glanced over just in time to see Percy, rather than heading immediately back to his ship, rush up to her. His freckled face was ashen and his eyebrows were knitted tensely over his eyes.

“Carey...Lord Beckett -- ”

“I know,” Carewyn cut him off. She already knew what Beckett must have said to Percy, for the rose-colored lenses to fall from his eyes so quickly.

Percy’s brown eyes widened even more. They darted over to Beckett heading up to the helm and then back to Carewyn, welling up with anxiety.

“He suspected it after you expressed interest in him hiring a woman,” said Carewyn softly. “I reckon him knowing Rakepick first made it easier -- she dressed as a man for a while, when she was in the Navy...”

Percy seemed to be losing more and more of his courage every second. His face suddenly looked so much more boyish as his gaze fell away from Carewyn’s face, staring down at the deck of the ship without seeing it.

“It’s my fault,” he mumbled.

“Don’t say that,” Carewyn cut him off firmly.

Percy closed his eyes and shook his head.

“It’s all my fault,” he repeated, shame and pain pulsing through his face. “I never should’ve trusted him, I never should’ve believed -- I just -- he was so against piracy, and I...after you were taken by Orion Amari -- after you got kidnapped by the crew of the Revenge -- ”

“Percy -- ”

Carewyn brought a hand onto his shoulder, but he cut her off, his soft voice more choked and upset than ever.

“I never should’ve let Bill and Charlie go after you alone -- I should’ve followed them myself in my own ship, if I had to -- ”

“Percy.”

Her hand clutched the top of his shoulder, right beside his neck, so as to force him to look up at her.

“You were only trying to do what was right, as an officer,” said Carewyn, her blue eyes blazing with conviction despite their pain and empathy. “The Navy is your dream, far more than it ever was mine, or Charlie’s, or Bill’s. Don’t hate yourself for trying to do things the right way. ...That’s always been who you are.”

Giving Percy’s shoulder a tight squeeze, she steered him forward enough that she could bring her other arm around him and give him a hug.

“I know what Beckett must’ve threatened you with, Perce, but I want you to forget it,” she said, and her voice betrayed a crack of emotion Percy had never heard before. “Don’t try to protect me or my reputation -- those things won’t matter much longer anyway. Do what you need to, to do what’s right...for yourself and them.”

Them... Percy tensed. He knew who that “them” was, but...the way her voice choked -- was she...trying not to cry?

He looked at his surrogate sibling with dismay, but he couldn’t see her expression.

“Carey -- ”

“Admiral.”

Carewyn pulled away from Percy and looked up.

Rakepick had approached them, her dark blue eyes flickering from Carewyn to back over her shoulder at Beckett, who had seemed to have turned his focus back to the two red-haired officers -- almost as if she was...trying to warn them.

Recovering from this surprise quickly, Carewyn turned to Percy with a harder, more serious look and grabbed his shoulder, giving him a light push backward.

“Go, now,” she said, her voice hardening to try to obscure the pain and tears she was trying to force back.

Percy’s brown eyes rippled with anxiety. He clearly wanted to insist on her explaining, wanted to argue her point -- but he too could sense Beckett’s gaze. So, with a pained expression, he reluctantly straightened up and exchanged a salute with Carewyn, before finally leaving the deck and returning to the jollyboat that would return him to the Clearwater.

Rakepick and Carewyn both watched Percy go.

“You didn’t tell him,” said Rakepick lowly. “No doubt because you don’t want him to try to stop you...”

Carewyn looked at Rakepick, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Didn’t tell him what?”

Rakepick, however, didn’t respond. Her eyes watched the horizon absently, but seemed to almost look beyond it.

Carewyn's eyes flashed with even more distrust as she turned to face the older woman. “Don’t play games with me, Rakepick -- ”

“The time for games is long since through,” said Rakepick sharply, as she turned to looked Carewyn straight on in the face.

What...was that, in her expression? It was certainly harsh and arrogant as ever, and yet...there was something almost sadder there.

“You truly are a guardian, Admiral Weasley,” murmured Rakepick. “Right now, though...it seems to me that it’s you who most needs guarding.”

Carewyn felt a knife in her chest at the thought of Jones and the fate that awaited her. Her blue eyes drifted off to the side and away from Rakepick’s face, hardening further as she tried to obscure her emotions.

“I’m not so much of a coward as to choose my safety over the lives of others’,” she said very harshly, turning her focus to the helm.

She turned her back on Rakepick, her arms looping behind her straightened back in proper Navy posture.

“You should return to your post...before Beckett gives you the side eye too.”

Rakepick didn’t respond, and Carewyn refused to look back as she strode away.

Almost immediately, the strategy Jacob had devised did not go as planned.

The plan had been for Jules to bluff Beckett before releasing Calypso -- but although the Revolution, as flag ship, had pulled into position at the head of the pirates’ charge, Beckett’s (and therefore the Navy’s) flag ship the HMS Lion did not. Instead it hung back, letting individual Man O’ Wars immediately start the charge without it.

In alarm, Jules ordered her crew to hoist the colors and signal to the rest of the Pirate Lords to attack, as the Flying Dutchman sailed out in front as if to meet the Revolution. Charlie and Merula led the charge in the Phoenix and the Blackbird, firing at will against the Man O’ Wars in an attempt to hit their stores of ammunition, even as the Navy’s ships’ superior firepower quickly overwhelmed them, cutting down the smaller ships in the dozens with their cannons.

“Captain!” said Barnaby from his place at the helm. “We just lost three more ships -- oh. Make that four!”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed as he racked his brain.

The Man O’ Wars were too powerful to face head-on -- they just had far too much firepower, compared to their pirates’ fleet --

A mad idea beginning to take root in Charlie’s head, he whirled around toward Samantha O’Connell, who’d been up in the rigging adjusting sails so that the Phoenix could better avoid the Navy’s cannon fire.

“Signal to the Naga! We need to get closer to that Man O’ War at the front!”

Samantha’s mouth dropped open disbelievingly. “Closer? But that’ll only make it easier for them to shoot us down!”

“Not if we divide their attention!” Charlie shot back forcefully.

He ran up to the deck of the ship and leapt onto the railing so he could dangle off the rigging and better talk over the sound of cannon fire.

“We’re going to do what pirates do best,” said the red-haired pirate captain, shooting a huge, blazing grin up at Samantha, “we’re going to sack and commandeer that Man O’ War ourselves!”

With some help from Arjun and Aishwarya running interference, Charlie was able to steer the Phoenix up alongside one of the Navy’s ships, called the Clearwater. As mad as Charlie’s idea was, however, it seemed he hadn’t been completely off-base -- just as Ben Copper himself had proposed earlier, the Navy had indeed not expected the pirates to try sacking and stealing their ship. Unfortunately to get close enough, the Phoenix ended up directly in the path of the Clearwater’s cannons, and as the pirates started to board, cannonballs blasted through the air, smashing the Phoenix to pieces.

“ABANDON SHIP!” roared Charlie. “ALL HANDS TO THE CLEARWATER!”

The pirates all flocked to the rigging and gangplanks to board the Man O’ War, now their only hope at avoiding the ocean waves. Charlie met up with Barnaby on deck, even as its planks was blasted to pieces.

“Is everyone else off?” demanded Charlie.

“Aye, Captain!” said Barnaby.

As splinters of wood and metal shot through the air, Charlie and Barnaby both leapt up into the rigging, preparing to swing across --

Unfortunately, just as they both swung, a cannonball collided squarely with the ringing. In an instant, both men were flung off of the ropes they’d been holding and into the air, falling toward the water with the weight of stones.

Barnaby, in a purely instinctual move, leaned forward in mid-air and, with all of his strength, shoved Charlie forward just enough that he could clear the hurtle between the two ships.

Charlie ended up colliding harshly with the deck of the Clearwater, his leg collapsing out from under him with an unpleasant CRACK.

“ACK!”

With a bellow of pain, the red-haired pirate captain crumpled in on himself, gritting his teeth as he struggled to control his breathing.

“Charlie!”

Samantha chucked a lit grenade right into the side of one of the Navy soldiers’ heads, using the Navy officers’ alarm and the subsequent small explosion as a distraction so she could run over. Bending down, she quickly grabbed hold of his arm to help Charlie to his feet.

“Augh -- “ choked Charlie. “My leg -- I can’t...ack!”

Samantha secured her arm around his waist, using a considerable amount of strength to try to hold him up at her side. “Hold on -- I’ve got you -- ”

Charlie looked up and around, taking in the scene of his men hot in battle with the Navy’s men.

“Barnaby?”

Charlie looked around. His First Mate wasn’t there.

Limping badly on his injured leg, Charlie threw himself across the deck to look over. In the ocean between the two ships was an unsettling set of ripples -- as if a body had collided with the water.

“BARNABY!”

“LOOK OUT!” yelled Samantha.

Charlie would’ve likely thrown himself overboard to try to retrieve his fallen comrade, but he immediately had to yank out his cutlass and defend himself against a Navy soldier who‘d made to attack him. Samantha pulled out her pistols and began shooting, trying to beat the enemy forces back as they descended on the fallen Phoenix’s captain.

Neither Charlie or Samantha saw the second cluster of ripples and bubbles that burbled up from under the surface, nor the gold mermaid tail that briefly flipped up out of the water before disappearing again under the waves.

Nothing turned out as it should. The battle plan Jacob and the pirates had devised hoping to scare the majority of the Man O’ Wars into surrendering was cut off at the legs. If they released Calypso now, there would be no reason for any of the Navy officers to think that her release was a threat pointed squarely at them. Calypso would certainly have no reason to cooperate, even if Chia Dalma had expressed some favoritism toward Orion and Charlie previously. They were still pirates, and Calypso had no reason to help the kind of people who had trapped her for so long just because they released her, especially since the decision was made out of desperation. The only thing guaranteed by Calypso’s release would be that the battle would be harder and would likely put everyone’s lives in even more jeopardy.

Despite this, however, Jules was firm in her conviction. They’d made a promise to release Calypso, and more importantly, it was a decision that was already well overdue. Regardless of whether Calypso decided to help them or not, she didn’t deserve to stay in bondage.

So despite the hesitance on Jacob’s and the majority of her crew’s faces, Jules fetched the tricorn hat full of the seven Pieces of Eight she’d been given by the other Pirate Lords -- Orion’s gold hoop earring, Jae’s copper mun coin, Ellie’s sunflower-engraved pocketwatch, Arjun’s snake-engraved fob seal, Charlie’s “S”-trimmed anchor button, and Merula’s jade ring. Then Jules plopped in the eighth that Samantha had fetched from the inside of the Pirate Codex (a cheap copper brooch shaped like a mermaid and scarred over with greenish-white rust), to represent her as Pirate King, and handed the full hat to Chia Dalma before setting the pieces on fire.

“Calypso,” Jules murmured as gently as she could, “I release you from your human bonds.”

The transformation was terrifying. It was little wonder that the process of turning Calypso into a human was described as her “being bound in her bones,” for when the goddess was set free of her human form, it was like a foreboding, slow-motion explosion. Chia’s eye sockets erupted blueish-white light, while her hair and clothes dissolved away into terrible gusts of wind and crashing sea spray. The low, rumbling, earthquake-esque sound that erupted from her could not be contained by her lips, instead coming from her every pore, as she levitated up off the ground, her flesh and blood limbs dangling uselessly in the face of her supernatural essence breaking free of them. Her flesh seemed to melt away, becoming more liquid and blue and white and incorporeal -- until at last, Chia Dalma’s frame burst open in a violent crash of seawater that for an instant submerged the entire pirate ship.

Jules, Bill, Jacob, and the rest of the crew were suddenly underwater, scrambling to escape so they could breathe. It was only thanks to Ashe that they survived. The merman quickly swam up to the helm and took control of the ship’s steering wheel, chucking it all the way around to tilt the Revolution sharply enough that it forced the ocean wave that had been Calypso back off the side.

Calypso, however, was not just the wave, as the pirates quickly found out. Overhead, there was a horrible rumble of thunder. Within moments, the ocean began to quake under the Revolution and the Flying Dutchman, darkening forebodingly. Somewhere in the distance, Jules could hear a delighted roar, like a triumphant beast’s -- it was Jones, delighted by the liberation of his lover and by the vengeance she would wreck for him.

Rakepick stared up at the darkening sky, her eyes very wide. “This...this storm -- it can’t be -- !”

“Oh, but it is.”

The cursed captain whirled on Rakepick, a smirk curling up into his octopus-stained features and a malevolent gleam in his eye.

“And now,” he said as he unsheathed his sword, “I fear no consequence o’ this!”

Rakepick cried out in agony as Jones plunged his sword right through the upper-right side of her chest. The privateer-turned-pirate-hunter crumpled up on the base of the stairs, her tricorn hat flying off into the wind. She tried to pull the blade out, but she was pinned down to the deck, unable to move as blood spurted out of her chest like a red flower.

“Augh...augh...”

Satisfied that the woman who’d so haughtily lorded over him was going to suffer properly before dying, Jones whirled on the rest of his crew with a victorious gleam in his eye.

“Let’s finish dismantling this ship afore us!” he indicated the Revolution, which was sailing up alongside the Flying Dutchman. “Then we can turn our sights toward different prey!”

Out of the blackening sky, a bolt of lightning crashed down, colliding with the ocean a mere twenty feet from the HMS Lion. The threat of fiery white death terrified Beckett’s men. Carewyn struggled to keep them calm, ordering them to weigh anchor so the HMS Lion could join its brothers in the charge. Beckett, however, contradicted her.

“If we advance, then we’ll merely be sailing right into the pirates’ hands,” he said coolly, as he sipped a cup of tea from the helm. “Our other ships are already dismantling them well enough.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes flashed. In an oddly harsh move, she brought up a hand and slammed it down on the table, making the china tea set rattle precariously and her fellow Navy men flinch.

“Don’t be a fool!” she hissed. “This isn’t some normal storm! Look at the waves you’ve sent our ships into! Look at this lightning -- it’s touching the sea itself! This is not an act of God -- this can only be Calypso!”

The rest of the Navy’s crew tensed up at the name. Beckett looked up from his tea, his dark eyes flickering with some interest for the first time.

“Calypso?” he repeated.

“The Pirate Lords bound her years ago, and now it seems they’ve released her,” said Carewyn fiercely. "We can’t stay still, if we hope to evade the wrath of a sea goddess -- ”

“But you believe she can, in fact, be evaded,” said Beckett mildly, putting down his cup on its saucer with a soft clink. “Good. From what I understand, Calypso doesn’t particularly like pirates much either...so it seems we can have her do some of our workload for us, if we merely steer clear of her destructive path.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened, her pupils narrowing to slits of rage.

“So you sentence your men to death? You choose to abandon our other ships to the mercy of both the pirates and to a vengeful goddess, in the deluded hope that they’ll destroy each other and leave us be -- ?!”

She didn’t even care if her voice was shriller than it should’ve been, thanks to the emotions that rebelled against her chest.

Beckett got to his feet, stepping right into Carewyn’s personal space with a fierce, cold eye.

“Our men know where their loyalty lies -- may you not forget the placement of yours, Admiral!”

Carewyn, however, got right back up in Beckett’s space in return, yanking her pistol out of her belt and pointing it right between his eyes.

All of the soldiers on deck stiffened or let out small, shocked cries. Even Beckett, whose expression did not flinch, raised his eyebrows.

“Just because my soul is no longer mine doesn’t mean that I won’t protect my men, Beckett,” Carewyn spat.

Beckett’s eyebrows furrowed over his eyes, which gleamed with cold, stony, foreboding rage.

“You dare...?” he whispered.

Carewyn’s eyes flared with hatred. “The only leverage you had over me is currently out there, being sent to his death on your orders.”

‘You have nothing left to take from me, Beckett. I’m already enslaved to Jones, and therefore you. I have no future. I can’t do any more good for the others. ...I’m worthless...’

Carewyn returned her pistol to her belt and turned to her men with a gentler, but still very serious look.

“Prepare to abandon ship, Lieutenant.”

The young Lieutenant who’d nearly caught Ben the previous night straightened up sharply. “Sir?”

“I will not have men who were assigned to this mission lay down their lives fighting a sea goddess,” said Carewyn solemnly. “Just as I don’t intend to let the men out there do so. We can’t signal to them to retreat from this far-off, but I won’t endanger your lives while I call them back. Tell the men to abandon ship and head for the Swallow...and then do so yourself.”

Despite the firmness of her voice, she knew the gravity of what she was asking of him.

The boyish, uptight Lieutenant looked from the silently seething Beckett to the grim, pale face of his commanding officer, visibly conflicted. Then, his lower lip trembling, he saluted.

“...Yes, sir,” he said weakly.

The young officer and his compatriots reluctantly followed orders and left the helm, leaving Beckett and Carewyn alone.

“You will regret this most dearly,” Beckett said in a very soft, pitiless voice.

“I only regret that I wasn’t able to do it sooner,” Carewyn shot back icily.

“There will be no safe place to hide from me,” said Beckett. “The entire world will know who and what you are. I will hunt you down with the might of my Company and the English Crown, until you sit under my heel like a dog.”

Carewyn was reminded of how he spoke to Orion, back on that tiny island -- like he was some pathetic, disgusting cockroach.

“I’m not a coward like you, Beckett -- I have no intention of running and hiding.”

‘You won’t need to hunt me down,’ she thought. ‘I already know I'm trapped.’

She turned her back on Beckett and walked away, shooting coldly back over her shoulder,

“Flee with your life while you still can.”

Once Carewyn was sure that her soldiers had all boarded the jollyboats and were on their way toward the HMS Swallow, she immediately made her way down to the lower deck, to where she knew Ben Copper had set up the explosives from the previous night.

The HMS Lion could not use flags to signal the other ships to fall back, from this distance...but the flagship being in distress would be more than enough for them to come back to try to help.

Carewyn approached the highly flammable barrels of black powder, her jaw set in determination despite the fear and paleness of her face. There was only one way she could make it explode on her own -- and so, with a deep breath and a faintly trembling hand, she slowly slid her loaded pistol from her belt and raised it to point at the barrels.

All of a sudden, Carewyn felt someone grab her from behind. She struggled against the grip as the person’s hands seized her arm, trying to pull it back -- “No, please -- please, no -- please -- ”

The voice made Carewyn freeze where she stood.

It was soft, detached, almost airy, and yet so choked and tense...she’d never heard that voice sound that way. Not that voice, at least...only a voice much younger, much less confident --

Carewyn slouched immediately.

“Orion?” she breathed.

The Pirate Lord’s shaking hands still clutched at her arm even after her pistol was no longer raised.

“Please,” he gasped for air, clearly trying to steady his heavy breathing. “Please -- ”

“Orion!”

Carewyn dropped her pistol to the floor with a clatter. She couldn’t pull out of his grip, but she tried to turn around to face him. Only managing to make it half-way, she looked up at him, taking in his parted lips and hollow dark eyes, and reached up to take hold of his face.

“Orion...it’s all right...”

Shakily Orion released her arms. Then, very abruptly, he just as quickly grabbed the back of her head with one hand, cradling it almost desperately.

“Orion, breathe,” Carewyn said desperately as she trailed a hand through his dreadlocks to try to comfort him. “Breathe...I’m here -- I’m here...”

The pirate closed his eyes. His breathing gradually slowed and quieted as he worked to ground himself.

“...Carewyn...” he murmured against her hair at last, still sounding faintly tense, but much more level again.

Carewyn’s chest was so overfull of emotion that her eyes flooded with tears.

“God, Orion!” she swore.

She placed a short, searing kiss against his lips before pulling away to look at him and tearing into him with anxiety,

“What are you doing here!? You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“I could say the same to you,” said Orion, his much more usual, calmer voice low in his throat with disapproval.

Carewyn’s eyes fell down to his shoulder uncomfortably. “I have to signal the rest of the fleet to retreat -- ”

“You needn’t sacrifice yourself for that.”

“I can’t make this signal any other way!”

“Don’t take all of this onto yourself -- ”

“It’s the only way I can help now!” Carewyn burst out. Her own hands were shaking now. “I know what you and Jacob were trying to warn me about, Orion, but it’s no use -- I can’t just stay off the Dutchman! Jones told me that the contract can’t be undone unless I wanted to condemn someone else in my place, and I...I can’t do that, Orion! Even if it means I can never make that world I promised for you -- even if it means I can never get Bill and Charlie and Jules their lives back, or protect Jacob and Ashe from the Navy, or even see you again...”

She fiercely tried to hold back her tears even as they blurred her vision.

“My life isn’t worth protecting, if it means I lose you! I can’t lose you! Without all of you, there’s no point to anything, anything I do!”

Orion’s dark eyes were swirling like miniature galaxies as he adjusted his hand on the back of Carewyn’s head more securely, tilting it up to try to prompt her to look at him before speaking again.

“Carewyn...will you marry me?”

Carewyn looked up at him like she’d just gotten a splash of cold water right to the face.

“What?”

“Will you marry me?” Orion repeated, undaunted.

Carewyn’s mouth hung open in disbelief. Where in the world did this come from?!

“I don’t think now’s the best time!” she said in a weaker, more high-pitched voice than usual.

“Now may be the only time,” said Orion, sounding oddly serious.

Carewyn scanned his face, struggling to understand his thought process.

“Orion...I’ll be part of Jones’s crew -- there can’t be a future for us, even if we -- ”

“On the contrary,” Orion cut her off gently. “We would only have the freedom to be together, this way.”

Carewyn’s eyebrows furrowed. Then, very, very slowly, her blue eyes widened in understanding.

“You’d be a member of our family,” she whispered.

Orion inclined his head in a nod. “I’d take the Cromwell name, rather than give you mine. That would make it so that Jones’s conditions could apply to either of us -- and so, if we wished to be together...the one Jones does not take could volunteer to remain with the other, as part of his crew...or, if not...one of us would be free to leave, with the debt still paid.”

Carewyn stared, hardly believing what she was hearing. She clutched at Orion’s shirt with both hands.

“You...you can’t!” she said desperately. “Jones is still under Beckett’s command -- if you join Jones’s crew, you...you’ll never be free again! I can’t let you enslave yourself to Beckett, not after what he did to you!”

“What he did to me...” murmured Orion.

He cradled Carewyn’s head as he leaned his forehead against hers so that their noses touched.

“Carewyn...what Beckett did to me was make it so that I’m no longer able to live a normal life. What he did to me was make it so that the only life I can lead is that of a pirate -- a creature of few friends, adrift on an unfriendly sea. However much I’ve been able to find independence and camaraderie on the high seas, that doesn’t mean I’ve ever been truly free. For I was never free to stop being a pirate. I was never free to stop running. I was never free...to return to the island where I first met the girl who would flit in and out of my dreams, like a songbird on the wing...see if she was happy...see if...she even still remembered me...”

Carewyn’s eyes widened.

“When I met you, I was an orphan with no name or home to call my own,” murmured Orion. “Although I’ve since crafted a name for myself...thanks to Beckett, I can never have the second. And even if I somehow ever could...that home would not be complete without you.”

His lips spread into a smile as his dark eyes slowly flooded with tears too.

“The freedom I want more than anything,” he said, “is the freedom to stay. Perhaps this choice wasn’t one we ever wanted to make, and perhaps it will be one we’ll have to live with longer than either of us envisioned, but...please...will you let me stay with you?”

Carewyn choked, trying to hold in the storm of emotions beating at the inside of her chest. She covered her face in both hands in a vain attempt to obscure the pain. She could feel Orion’s hand on the back of her head tense slightly, but he made no move to comfort her -- the pirate wasn’t entirely sure how, and he didn’t know if he should, since he knew he’d unloaded a lot onto her.

At last, Carewyn finally tore her hands away and threw her arms around Orion’s neck, burying her tear-stained face into his chest.

“Yes,” she whispered against his neck. “...Yes...”

She placed a feathery kiss to his collarbone.

“...Orion, I’m...I’m so sorry...”

Orion mirrored her, bringing his lips into the crook of her neck.

“Don’t be,” he said seriously, “for I am not.”

Carewyn looked up at him, prepared to speak -- but she stilled when her ear caught the sound of a pistol being cocked.

“GET DOWN!”

In an instant, she’d thrown herself against Orion, knocking him down to the floor just as the bullet whizzed overhead with a loud BANG, just barely missing the barrels of black gunpowder and instead colliding with one of the columns.

Carewyn and Orion both shot up, to find Cutler Beckett standing at the base of the stairs, his stony eyes set ablaze with a kind of hatred Carewyn had never seen.

At the exact same time, the Revolution and the Flying Dutchman were hotly engaged in battle on the rockier, more tempestuous sea. Jules had been firm in not having anyone swing over to the Dutchman until their ship had the upper hand, since she knew her mortal men would be outmatched by men who were already technically dead -- but Jacob, it seemed, had no intention of following her direction. Jones was still aboard the Flying Dutchman, and he had a score to settle with Jones. And so he swung over to the ship of the damned himself to confront its captain.

“Ah, Captain Roberts,” sneered Jones. “Welcome aboard.”

“Where is she!?” he snarled.

Jones’s dark eyes narrowed coldly. “If you mean the Admiral, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. Her enlistment isn’t set to begin for another month or so.”

With a roar of fury, Jacob lunged at Jones, hacking at him with his cutlass. The shorter man was very talented with a blade -- it was fortunate, considering he was hotly engaged in battle with someone who couldn’t be killed through ordinary means.

“Don’t know what you’re intending to do, Jacob Roberts!” spat Jones. “The contract is not one I can break either! The Admiral will be in my crew, no matter what she or anyone else thinks of the matter -- ”

Jacob slashed at Jones’s beard, slashing off several tentacles. Jones cried out in pain and frustration and when Jacob tried to attack again, Jones seized his arm in his claw, snapping down on it really hard.

“AUGH!”

Jones lifted the smaller man up off the deck by his arm so that he dangled off his feet.

“She only has her brother to blame for her misfortune,” the captain of the damned said lowly. “Yet she somehow has enough grace to not do so.”

Jacob’s face blanched and his slit-like pupils flared with hatred as he fought against Jones’ grip.

“You -- argh!”

Jones’s claw twisted Jacob’s arm painfully, making him drop his sword.

“Were I not a heartless wretch, I would feel remorse, knowing I have to condemn so decent a person,” said Jones.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, Jones cried out in surprise as a sword was plunged through his back.

It was Bill.

The eldest Weasley knew that the wound wouldn’t really hurt Jones (and he was correct), but it was the proper distraction for Jules to jump in from the other side and bring her sword down on Jones’s claw with enough leverage that he dropped Jacob. The curly-haired pirate captain fell onto the deck, clutching his arm, as Bill yanked his sword back out of Jones’s back.

“That is for Carey,” he snarled at Jones.

Jones whirled on Bill with his own cutlass, hacking away at him. Jules rushed to help Bill, while Ashe ran over to Jacob’s side to help him up.

“Jack, you’re bleeding -- ”

“I’ll be fine,” croaked Jacob as he clutched his wounded arm.

Jones fought both Bill and Jules singlehandedly, his cutlass slashing at Bill as his claw snapped at the air sweeping through Jules’s dark hair.

“Tell me, William and Juliette Weasley,” he crowed, “do you fear death?”

“Do you?”

Jones froze. Everybody else on the deck froze. Then, as if as a unit, they slowly turned, to look at Rakepick standing at the foot of the stairs.

The privateer-turned-pirate-hunter had shed her red jacket, leaving her in her blood-stained, high-necked and long-sleeved white undershirt, and her ginger-red hair had come loose of its bun and flapped in the gusting wind like a flag. In her hand was the throbbing, pulsating heart of Davy Jones.

Both Jacob and Bill lunged forward, but Rakepick moved before either of them could. Her dark blue eyes flaring with pure, undiluted hatred upon Jones, she yanked her loaded pistol out of its holster, thrust Jones’s heart down hard onto the deck, and fired at point-blank range.

BANG.

Jones lurched forward as if he'd been shot in the chest. He choked, his dark eyes going very wide as he struggled to breathe -- then he swayed, suddenly finding himself unable to stand, as his claw shakily clutched the railing of his ship.

Rakepick’s eyes held no compassion whatsoever as she bore down upon the crumpled-up Jones.

“The Chest’ll be doing its work soon enough,” she said very softly. “As it’s said...‘the Dutchman must have a captain.’”

Jacob suddenly felt like his hand was on fire. Ripping off the bandages, he stared in disbelief as the Black Spot Jones had given him so long ago seemed to shrink and disappear, leaving his palm completely unscarred.

For the deal Jacob had made was only in effect as long as both he and Jones lived. 

Jones gasped for air as Rakepick seized him by the collar.

“I would ask if you wished to serve under me -- but I don’t want scum like you on my crew. So I’ll instead be kind...and send you to meet your dear Calypso.”

In a heartless move Jacob only knew too well, Rakepick shoved Jones overboard, right off of the Dutchman into the rushing waves.

“No!” hissed Jacob.

Rakepick turned to Jacob, a cold smirk spreading onto her face. “You know what this means, then, Black Jack? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised!”

Out of nowhere, Rakepick lurched forward, clutching at her chest, which pulsated with demented, sickly sea-green light. She shrieked in agonizing, hellish pain as her chest ripped itself apart, her own heart molting out of her skin -- the Dead Man’s Chest appeared out of nowhere in a flare of light at her feet -- and it swallowed up the heart that had ripped itself out of her chest before snapping shut.

“What -- ” gasped Bill, “what is -- ?”

“The one who stabs the Heart,” said Ashe, his face very pale with fury and anxiety, “must replace it with their own.”

“And become the immortal Captain of the Flying Dutchman.”

Rakepick clutched her chest with one hand, her long ginger hair in her face. She breathed heavily as her lips spread little by little into a broad smirk. When she pulled her hand away, the wounds in her chest and in her shoulder had completely sealed up. Even the blood had dissipated.

“Incredible,” she whispered. “I can feel the Dutchman -- the sea -- the creatures of the deep, all responding to my every whim...”

She flung out her arm. In an instant, Jones’s fallen barnacle-encrusted blade soared into her open hand, and she raised her head, her dark blue eyes devoid of human light or mercy upon Bill, Jacob, Jules, and Ashe as her loosely flying ginger hair seemed to smack the air like tentacles.

“Now I finally have the power I need,” she whispered triumphantly, “the power to destroy all of you and Cutler Beckett, in one fell swoop!”

[gascon-en-exil]

Crimson Flower lets Edelgard institute all her progressive reforms, and puts a definitive kibosh on both the Agartheans and the dragons. Various other character endings describe the slitherers resurfacing and being foiled again. Dmitri the emperor, and he's a well-meaning lad who probably makes reasonable strides against racism and systemic crest bias, but he largely keeps things going as they were. He makes it very clear that he hasn't thought very hard about his position in the world.

Edelgard, on the other hand, is justified in everything she does by virtue of her circumstances. At no point does she have any options other than declaring war on the continent or dying, because she has been in the clutches of the Agartheans her entire life. They want to use her as a figurehead, but make it very clear that they will bump her off if she steps out of line. She cannot prevent the war, so she instead makes it her own, and rallies her forces until she's can make a move against them.

Dimitri is a hereditary autocrat who secures his family's grip on the entirety of a continent, 2/3 of which he obtains through conquest. Really struggling to see the 'not an autocrat' angle here even if he does some positive reforms later in life. Like we get a fairly decent look at how non-traumatized Dimitri acts in CF and it all sets up that he entered into a political marriage and had a quick child to secure the inheritance. Hereditary monarchy is a scourge even if you have a 'good' monarch

FIrst, let’s get the most obvious thing out the way: there is no evidence that Dimitri has a political marriage and an heir in CF. 

The line about the Blaiddyd line continuing almost certainly refers to his uncle Rufus, who is killed in Cornelia’s coup in the non-CF routes but is presumably still alive in CF because she never gets the chance to carry it out. In the Dimidue death scene Dimitri expresses regret for not being able to get revenge for his family among others, so he’s still thinking of family in terms of his slain father and stepmother. I’ve also pointed out several times that Dimitri’s fondness for orphans is noted in story text and in AM’s ending tapestry, such that it’s entirely reasonable to conclude that he adopts regardless of circumstances as a way of diminishing the role of Crest-based inheritance. In CF his circumstances seem to be nearly identical to the Dimidue paired ending where there is no queen in sight and Dedue is a royal consort in all but name. I highly doubt they chose to adopt while fighting a war that’s by now been dragging on for over five years, so the conclusion about Rufus stands (even more so because he’s noted elsewhere to be a shameless womanizer so it’s likely he’s got one or more bastards somewhere). If you’re looking for a hereditary monarch who founds or perpetuates a dynasty, that would be Claude, or Byleth in various VW/SS endings. Quibbling over monarch vs. emperor has little meaning in this context, especially when Edelgard stepping down after an indeterminate amount of time and naming a successor is fully in line with real world dictatorships. Non-democratic systems of government are the standard for all of FE, although the beginnings of a representative government mentioned in Dimitri’s solo ending might be the single closest instance of a significant movement away from that even if it’s only a constitutional monarchy with the heir to the throne a Crestless adoptee. This follows naturally from the years of the timeskip where Dimitri was homeless and in and out of the slums of the Kingdom, where he saw the suffering of the common people firsthand and, as seen in the AM parley, came to understand their needs better than Edelgard ever attempts. In conjunction with Claude’s ignorance of the lives of the Almyran people as seen in his Cyril supports, it’s actually reasonable to conclude that Dimitri has thought about his position relative to his subjects more than either of the other leaders.

And speaking of Claude, Dimitri does not conquer the Alliance in AM; rather, Claude hands it over to him unexpectedly after the Kingdom army comes to his aid and fights off the Imperial army invading Derdriu. If Hilda is recruited in AM her monastery dialogue the next month reveals that the Alliance council peacefully agreed to go along with Claude’s decision to cede their territory to the Kingdom. This is incidentally a much better deal than the Alliance gets in either VW or SS, where Claude disappears either at the end of the game or after Gronder and it’s given to Byleth with no further discussion (and the same thing also happens to the Kingdom in both routes). The Empire at the end of the game is in much the same situation as every other antagonist nation in FE, with no one to rule it following the counter-invasion from the protagonist nation(s) because they’re all dead. Similar to Genealogy the picture does open up a bit depending on who’s alive, with Ferdinand, Lorenz, Marianne, etc. governing their respective territories if they’re recruited. Ditto unseen noble heirs like Holst and Caspar’s older brother who are still around to inherit their titles even with Byleth or Dimitri ruling the continent. As far as the Empire is concerned the two of them are as much imperialists as Marth, Seliph, the Renais twins, etc., a far cry from Edelgard in CF invading and conquering two sovereign nations without provocation, predicated in part on the basis that centuries prior they were part of the Empire so it’s acceptable for her to conquer them.

Now, onto Edelgard. You must be aware that Edelgard chose to ally with the Agarthans at Hubert’s suggestion, and she continues to make that choice for nearly a decade without any attempt at checking them despite knowing all the terrible things that they’re getting up to behind the scenes at the monastery and that they enacted earlier without her direct involvement to destabilize the continent and make her conquest easier, like the Tragedy of Duscur and the death of Claude’s uncle. As myself and others have noted attempting to spin her as a helpless victim of their machinations only makes her look incompetent and terrible in her choice of allies - not just the Agarthans themselves but also known murderers Hubert and Jeritza whom she cannot fully control with one frequently going behind her back and the other openly disobeying her multiple times on the battlefield. This in combination with Hubert’s status as the Manfroy to Edelgard’s Arvis leaves me very much in doubt of the Agarthans being truly eradicated in the postgame. Not only is this unsatisfying for the player, but given Hubert’s use of dark magic and dabbling in the Agarthans’ experiments (plus that he was the one who suggested the alliance in the first place, for all that he grumbles about Thales ordering him around) it’s more likely that he eradicates their leadership and then installs himself at the head of the remaining cult, folding them into his established network of spies and assassins. Hubert is one of my favorite characters in this cast, but he’s anything but trustworthy especially if his primary motivation really is wanting Edelgard to sleep with him when it turns out she never will, not even in their paired ending. In keeping with his status as the pathetic hopeless suitor pining for this game’s headlining waifu despite her overt attraction to the self-insert, sexual frustration is built into his character even if he gets a wife or if he and Ferdinand become the most notorious lovers in Enbarr.

Plus, if you look Edelgard actually does rather than what she says she aligns more with what the Agarthans want than the stated goals of her own propaganda. She completes their genocide of the Nabateans and unifies the continent with Agarthans in positions of great power. On the other hand she doesn’t eradicate the nobility as a whole but only replaces those who would oppose her seizing absolute power, which goes to support that it was the Insurrection of the Seven and not the Agarthan experimentation that truly shaped her worldview and motivations. The stated reasons she wants to destroy the church are provably incorrect - she knows they didn’t create Relics or Crests thanks to secret Imperial knowledge passed down from Wilhelm, and she must know that they aren’t all-powerful as the Empire disbanded the Southern Church completely a century before the events of the game with apparently no pushback from Rhea or anyone else - and one must therefore conclude that she instead targets them because they, like the Imperial nobles she replaces and like Claud e and Dimitri defending their nations, would oppose her solitary rule of the continent. It’s just awfully convenient that this goal also accomplishes the Agarthans’ main goal of killing or driving into hiding all of the remaining dragons. Saying that the war was inevitable because the Agarthans were slinking around setting it up to happen doesn’t absolve Edelgard of the responsibility of choosing to ally with them and playing right into their hands, especially when her conquest only noticeably improves her own situation, and possibly Hubert and Jeritza’s now that they have a license to kill, torture, etc. for an entire continent. All of the other Eagles go on to inherit what they would have inherited anyway, and all the reforms mentioned in the CF endings are the same or better in endings for the other routes only your side didn’t start a war and complete a genocide to bring those about.

[animegenork]

Digimon Adventure tri. ~ Character Songs + Analysis

I think too much. This is just the danger of being a Creative Writing major and a great lover of anime/fiction in general.

But I feel it is my duty to get purposely in too deep and get into the nitty-gritty of the character songs produced during the Tri era.

Because, when you think about it? There’s A LOT in them.

I ended up writing a lot, so all analyses are under the cut.

Chosen Children Compilation

Taichi/Tai ; Eien no Puzzle

Like all of these songs, Tai’s song is incredibly in-character for him. His song speaks of the adventure he’s found himself on ever since that fateful encounter years ago. His song doesn’t necessarily mention Agumon explicitly, except for one key line:

“I can go anywhere with you.”

Tai has always been constantly moving forward, even when reflecting on the past. Sometimes he doesn’t even think about where he’s going (”You don’t have to know where you’re going”), due to his impulsive nature, but in his eyes, going forward is the key to making it to tomorrow. (I know it’s cheesy. This is Digimon.) I’d like to think that despite his internal struggle throughout Tri, this song represents everything he learns by the end of it all.

I give Tai a lot of tough love about his impulsivity, but this song showcases the positive side to Tai’s almost consistent “let’s go and think about it later.” There’s nothing wrong with going into something without a plan, or without a lick of common sense, so long as the adventure turns out good in the end. (Didja catch that reference to “Butter-fly”?) Although the DigiDestined have gone through a lot, and being impulsive has sometimes turned out bad, the real adventure is spending time with those you care about. In Tai’s case, this means going and “adventuring” with Agumon. He’ll probably get lost along the way, but that’s the fun of it all! After all, the DigiDestined were lost the first time they went to the Digital World, but look at all they accomplished!

Life is a bit of an Eternal Puzzle, but going forward will get you to tomorrow. I don’t know about you all, but I’d follow Tai on his adventures!

Yamato/Matt ; Boku ni Totte

A good number of these songs directly match up with their human/Digimon partner’s, so naturally Matt’s would be the first to do so.

We may not always see it through Matt’s tough exterior (that he rarely lets down even as the years go by), but he has a great capacity for love in his heart. Gabumon is one of two characters we see him express this affection for (the other being T.K.) directly, and this song is entirely dedicated to his Digimon partner.

Multiple times throughout the various installments of Adventure, Matt finds himself separated from Gabumon. Hence the repeated “Don’t say goodbye” with the very clearly pained tone.

I think my favorite line would be this one: “You laughed a little when I said I wanted to become stronger and to protect you / But I thought it was still okay”. The beautiful thing about the human/Digimon bond is that one will always want to protect the other, even though one may be more capable of doing so. Matt’s desire to protect Gabumon most certainly stems from his protectiveness over T.K., but that doesn’t make it any less real.

Matt has a very intense love for Gabumon; his Digimon partner will always be close to his heart and soul. The “I need you” at the end of the song says it all. And it probably explains why this is the song I listen to most out of all of these.

Sora ; Yume no Kanau Basho

Sora’s had her moments of doubt and fear. Of course she has. But let’s not forget that for the most part, she remains optimistic and supportive with everyone in the group.

This song is about missing her Digimon, but it’s so optimistic about seeing her again, it’s hard to remember the pain involved.

The verses of the song seem to linger on good memories with Biyomon (”You stayed by my side when I felt hurt”) while the chorus discusses Sora’s desire to find the Digital World and meet up with Biyomon again (”No matter how far the future is / You and I are connected now”).

One of the most beautiful parts of the song is the verse before the second chorus.

“‘I’m sorry’ for how I’ve changed I wish you would always stay the same ‘Thank you’ with all of my heart I want to send you all of these feelings”

Sora changes a lot over the series, and lots of things change around her. The one constant, however, has been her love for Biyomon. These two are close in a way that the other partners aren’t, and that’s what I love about the series. No human/Digimon relationship is the same, although the forms of love are. The great thing about Sora and Biyomon is that we get to see in action what the others have emotionally/mentally. And that’s pretty much summed up in these two lines (which are my favorite in this song):

“If I could make only one wish It would be to stay with you from now on” 

Koshiro/Izzy ; Kioku no Kakera -Koshiro Side-

We all know it; Izzy has never been the most in touch with his emotions. Hell, he can barely handle his crush on Mimi during Tri without turning into a mess. When he does get his emotions together, though, it’s usually because of Tentomon in some way, shape, or form.

Although Izzy’s song is not expressly about the Adventure as a whole or Tentomon entirely, we do see a bit of insight into how Izzy truly saw his connection with Digimon affairs. He reflects on the first time he met Tentomon (”Your body was small / When I met you”) and even ponders the future (”The future we spoke of making has disappeared”). What remains is him struggling to put to words how he feels about all of this.

“I don’t know why I am crying”

This line is pretty self-explanatory. Izzy will probably always struggle to completely connect reality with his emotions, but because he learned to love Tentomon, he’s also learned to love others and he’s slowly getting there. I love our boy genius to death. Even if emotions don’t make sense, what he does understand are connections, hence, “Always, With you, I always want to stay connected with you”

I must also point out this line:  “When walls are closing in, you encourage me/ ‘That’s right’ ‘tell me more’ ‘try again’, over and over again”. In a world that didn’t understand how Izzy could be so embroiled in technology, Tentomon was always the one to encourage him, and for that, Izzy will always be grateful.

God, I love these two.

Mimi ; Go My Way

The very tone of this song is so Mimi, it’s almost painful.

It’s hard to tell who exactly Mimi is addressing in this song: the gang? Palmon? Meiko? Who can really say? Perhaps it’s all of them at once. Although it’s hard to tell, this song has very much the same feeling as Tai’s. There’s a very upbeat feeling to it, one about moving forward even when times are tough.

Mimi’s always struggled to handle the heavier parts of Digital affairs; she’s not a “heavy” person by nature. She kinda reveals this in-song (”I don’t know and I want to give up” ; “Don’t tell me that I don’t understand”), though. Her Crest, Sincerity (or Purity, but Sincerity’s always made more sense to me ANYWAY-), has helped her overcome this struggle bit by bit. You can see that in these lines:

“I want someone to live for” “I want to live by moving forward one step at a time without fear”

What I love about Mimi is that even though, on the surface, she keeps the superficiality, we know that she has always been in the process of becoming more genuine with others. She is the star of her own life, sure, but she knows she can’t do things alone. Now, she’s capable of apologizing for her own actions (”I’m so sorry for hurting you”), expressing love for those important to her (”I’m so glad to have met you”), and even accepting her own shortcomings (”Whether or not I realize how much of a miracle it is”). She’s grown a lot, and thanks to the reboot, we get to see her grow even more.

Jou/Joe ; I can’t

How much can I scream at one character?

Joe will always be the pessimist. There’s really no way he can’t be. He’ll always be the one to put other things before Digital World affairs, and that’s okay. He has priorities, just like we all do. Sometimes, I prioritize anime over sleep, and THAT’S OKAY TOO (unhealthy as it is).

We don’t necessarily see it in the series (even in Tri, it’s not expanded upon too heavily), but Joe does feel an incredible amount of guilt for not being there with the others on a constant basis. “Why can’t I just make up my mind?” ; “I wish I could make an excuse and pass like always / I feel like you will leave if I do…” ; “I’m not confident enough to do anything” are just a few lines that express his guilt/struggle with himself over this “abandonment” of his friends.

However, Joe does want to change. We see that clear as day in Tri and even in this song: “I sincerely want the strength to protect you too”. Gomamon is hella different from Joe, but that doesn’t stop them from loving each other. Gomamon will always be the one to bring him back, whether he wants him to or not. That is the power of the Joe/Gomamon team. Joe may not have faith in himself, but he’ll always have faith in Gomamon, and Gomamon will always feel the same about Joe.

“I don’t look back on the past I want us to keep living together like before I’m so glad to have met you I think I can be someone who speaks his heart I can’t help thinking of you all the time…”

Maybe Joe can fail the others, but he can never truly fail Gomamon.

Takeru/T.K. ; Kibou no Tsubasa

When did T.K. become this cutie pie with the fedora? WHEN. (I know when, don’t mind me.)

Similar to Sora, T.K. has always tried to be optimistic about things. But similar to Mimi, his comes out in this very idol-ish way.

This song is most definitely for Patamon, who has always been the cutest Digimon (to me, at least). T.K. and Patamon have always been close, and Patamon will always be incredibly important to him (”What is important to me is right here / Your smiling face here with me; I love you”). Ever since Devimon, T.K.’s protective streak with Patamon has been intense. We see that in 02, and we see it in Tri when Patamon gets Infected.

“I want to protect you forever and ever I wish I could capture your innocence I want to evolve from when I was a crybaby”

Even when T.K. grows up and knows that Patamon is technically the one to protect him, he wants to protect him. The T.K./Patamon dynamic is incredible in ways I can’t talk about without crying. They’re so fantastic, and the love they have for each other is beautiful to behold. No wonder T.K. says,

“I won’t lose you ever again”

Hikari/Kari ; Ring

Everything about Kari has always been hard for me to understand, and this song is no exception. (She has such a complex role, like damn.)

Like the others, this song is a message to her Digimon, but it’s a little less sentimental than we would normally expect from Kari. I think, for the most part, she reflects on her role as a DigiDestined and her dreams for peace between Digimon and humans. However, there is also her expressing how much she loves Gatomon: “My heart fears losing you as I wait for tomorrow.”

Kari’s always had a bit of an old soul. Even when she’s made of pure innocence, a part of her has always accepted the hard facts of life with grace. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t dwell too much on her fear of losing Gatomon. Obviously, she was completely shattered when it happened in Tri (indirectly), but that was probably because of the method by which it happened and her role in it.

I think the most powerful part of the song lies near the end, mostly because of its direct reference to Tri itself:

“Even if you have forgotten everything A sense of nostalgia will find you”

Kari will not be the last to reference the Digimon losing their memories, but the fact that she so casually brings up the hopefulness she felt in having Gatomon remember her again is so powerful. It speaks to the bond every pair of Digimon and humans have. And that is exactly what Kari’s always around for: demonstrating that bond.

Meiko ; Mebaeta Tsuyosa

Meiko’s song gives us the Meicoomon narrative in music format, and I actually really like it. This song speaks of the bond these two felt and how difficult Meiko finds it that her beloved partner has such an antagonistic role. It’s not the most positive of songs, but it does speak to the “I’d do anything for you” type of bond we see in just about every pair in this series.

“I felt like I knew everything about you, But the reality I knew has collapsed now”

Meiko had no way of knowing things would turn out the way they did, but she still felt an incredible guilt for something she did not cause at all. Though Meicoomon causes her plenty of pain (”You’ve given me courage, but also darkness”), Meiko cannot simply let go of the bond they have (”It will always be you and me / No matter what fate we are given”). In a way, it’s like a reverse Ken/Wormmon type of relationship.

It’s really too bad Meiko gets the flack she does for her role in this series. I found something rather relatable in her, and I liked her dynamic with Mimi especially. Her bond with Meicoomon is one that the rest of the DigiDestined related to, and that was why they wanted to help her. The bond between the two Mei’s isn’t something to sneeze at; it’s quite beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. This song puts that bond into more perspective.

“I’m sure the bond between us will never change Only I can quietly tell you that now forever”

Digimon Compilation

Agumon ; Agumon SUNba

There is absolutely nothing sentimental about this song and it remains perfect in every way.

Agumon! The ever hungry dinosaur! What better song for him to have than one where he talks about how hungry he is!

I love this song for how purely Agumon it is. We see how Tai has to deal with how hungry his partner is, while also seeing a sillier side to the little dinosaur that I, for one, love to joke about.

Not everything in Digimon needs to have a heavier undertone, and Agumon here just proves it.

Gabumon ; Kimi ni Totte

We see a lot of Matt’s perspective on things, but sometimes, we don’t hear enough of Gabumon. Personally, I think this song gives us all the perspective we need on the Gabu/Matt front. Like damn.

Gabumon has seen a lot of sides to Matt. He is witness to a lot of Matt’s softer and gentler moments, which is always fantastic to see. Although Matt without his harder outer shell wouldn’t be Matt, there’s a part of Gabumon that hopes he continues being gentle and kind in his own little way (”I want your gentle sound to continue, always”).

What I like about this song is that’s it’s a direct response to Matt’s “Don’t say goodbye” - he directly says “This is not goodbye,” which I’m sure Gabumon knows is the exact phrase Matt is looking for. Matt wants to know that Gabumon won’t leave him, and Gabumon makes sure to tell him that that will never happen.

Matt will always try to keep to himself, even though he trusts Gabumon (”Though you wouldn’t tell me how lonely you were”). Gabumon sees this, and while he accepts it, he wants Matt to know that they’re still a team (”I want to be able to run anywhere you will let me”).

Like Kari, Gabumon makes a very blatant reference to the memory loss that still makes me cry a bit:

“If you ever happen to forget everything about me I promise I will meet you again”

OKAY, GABUMON. MAKE ME CRY. IT’S FINE.

Gabumon has always been a calming force, but it’s nice to see him exhibit such strong emotions in regards to his partner. We know he has them, but it’s nice nonetheless. And of course he says “I need you” at the end of the song, which is the same thing Matt said. Even though they express their emotions differently, Matt and Gabumon have such an intense connection to each other, and they acknowledge without pause how much they need each other in their lives. They are a powerful force, even in music.

Piyomon/Biyomon ; Heart wo Sagase

Am I surprised that both Sora and Biyomon make reference to the sky and rainbows in their songs? Of course not. That’s just their way.

Both songs relay a search for “something,” whether it’s the “land of dreams” or “the heart”. Biyomon has a lot less sentimentality, but then, Biyomon has never been one to dwell on the sad side of their relationship. She’s always been a little more positive than even Sora, and we see that here.

Still, Biyomon does mention their connection (”Let’s hold hands to stick together”), and, in general, it’s a sweet song that embodies Biyomon’s heart. Which explains a lot, since the song is called “Search for the Heart.”

I don’t have much to say about this song, but I will admit, at first hear, I thought it was Sora singing and not Biyomon. Very interesting.

Tentomon ; Kioku no Kakera -Tentomon Side-

What I love about this song is that Tentomon isn’t really singing in the traditional sense. But then, he doesn’t need to.

This entire song is dedicated to Izzy. It tells us just how concerned Tentomon is for Izzy and his hardworking ways. He spends an entire verse telling Izzy to take care of himself, ending it with, “You’re my important partner / It’s natural that I’m worried about you.”

Tentomon has always been more in touch with emotions than Izzy, but he doesn’t fault his partner for it. In fact, it’s what makes them so compatible. He has such faith in Izzy (”Koushiro-han will succeed”), and he doesn’t want Izzy to ever lose faith in himself (”Don’t you see what a great person you are?” ; “It’s no good for you to give up hope”). Their connection truly is special; no wonder I started a side-blog dedicated to Tentomon.

Tentomon is the THIRD character to reference lost memories, which is interesting in an of itself:

“Even if I forget everything I can start over again from the beginning” 

I’ve noticed when the Digimon discuss this, they’re very optimistic about their connection with their partner. Kari, meanwhile, was a bit neutral on the topic but still somewhat positive. Very interesting.

Palmon ; Blooming your Heart

Palmon does not directly address Mimi like Tentomon addresses Izzy, but the message remains the same.

Palmon and Mimi’s relationship has always been tinged with more sweetness than the others’, in my eyes. They exist to make each other smile and grow stronger in heart. (”I’ll make you smile more and more, whoa~”) I especially love how Palmon mentions Mimi’s famous hat: “And that ten-gallon hat forever, my heart with you”

Still, there is the presence of comfort between these two. Palmon will always be there for Mimi (”If your pain won’t wither and pain blooms, I’ll be by your side“) and will always treasure her, no matter what. It’s the same for the other Digimon, for sure, but Palmon’s love for Mimi is, somehow, more pure than the others, and that’s what’s lovely about it.

“Because you are my world, my best garden”

Gomamon ; You can

Like Gabumon’s, Gomamon’s song is a direct response to Joe.

Gomamon has always known how different he and Joe are (”We may fight, but we laugh a lot too”), and in some ways, their relationship is rougher than the others - when they argue, it lasts longer than the others’ arguments with their partners. Yet despite all this, Gomamon understands Joe in a way I don’t think even Joe does. (”But I understand you / You have to go your own way”) Gomamon accepts Joe for who he is; a prime example is this verse here:

“I think that’s just the way you are You have a gentle presence But you only show it to me I don’t mind it being that way”

Even though he understands and loves Joe, Gomamon still expresses frustration at Joe’s hesitance when it comes to involving himself in the various Adventures (”You can, so when are you going to stand up?”). Gomamon knows for a fact Joe can do anything he sets his mind to, but anxiety always holds him back. And therein lies the most important line of the song:

“But I don’t want you to forget that you are not alone”

Gomamon knows he can; Joe says he can’t. In some ways, both are right. But I think Gomamon will always be right to push Joe to step outside and face those fears of his.

Patamon ; Daisuki-ism

This is the absolute cutest song ever. This one and Agumon’s have my heart wrapped around their notes.

I don’t have much to say about this song either, as it’s pretty direct. Patamon loves T.K. a whole damn lot, and this song is such a sweet song dedicated to their relationship.

T.K.’s lucky to have Patamon. He so genuinely loves his partner that he’s not afraid to say it, and he’s not afraid to protect him, no matter the cost.

“When you’re happy you show it with your cheeks You always make me smile Every time you hold me I won’t forget that wonderful feeling”

Tailmon/Gatomon ; Together as one

Gatomon has always been more quietly sentimental about her relationship with Kari, and this song is no different.

Because of the nature of their meeting, Gatomon loves Kari in a very gentle way. They met under trying circumstances, and Kari gave her a love she wasn’t used to. Yet together, they lost someone important (Wizardmon), and from then on, they seemed almost closer than a lot of the other partner pairs.

In fact, unless I’m mistaken, Gatomon makes a reference to Wizardmon in the song: “I miss holding hands with my beloved friend”. This could, of course, be a reference to Kari, but I’d like to think that Gatomon never has Wizardmon far from her mind.

In any case, Gatomon’s song is sentimental in a way Kari’s isn’t, and it’s a nice balance between the two. There’s direct reference to a “light,” which surely means Kari’s Crest (”I can believe in the light” ; “I believe the light will guide us towards a bright future”). Gatomon also mentions a “warmth,” which she feels when she’s around Kari, which makes sense, since Myotismon never gave her any such warmth.

Kari’s song mentions nostalgia; I think, in some ways, she was referring to Gatomon. This song has a very nostalgic feel to it, especially in the last line:

“Let’s go back to the time where we can smile together again”

I think sometimes even Gatomon forgets that she is capable of very strong sentimentality and nostalgia. It’s very nice to see in a show like Digimon.

Meicoomon ; Ura-omote Crossroad

I think what we often forget is how much pain Meicoomon was in throughout Tri. She didn’t want to cause all the trouble and pain that she did; she was not in control. This song gives us insight into her hopelessness and how Meiko was the only thing that could really lead her back to a Digimon version of sanity.

Meiko deeply loved Meicoomon, and Meicoomon felt exactly the same way. They’re a very sweet duo, and while their existence in general is a topic of debate in the Digimon fandom, I think it was very interesting to see. Considering all the original eight were wholly good, and so were their partners (you know, despite past hiccups), it was nice to see one of them purposely being an antagonist in spite of their partner’s alignment.

Anyway. In this song, we see Meicoomon’s struggle to stay true to herself and her relationship with Meiko (”I can’t escape them, but I don’t want to lose you / I can’t separate the light from shadow”) as well as her own inner turmoil with everything happening to her (”What should I do if I’m left here all alone?”).

The true point of this song is that Meicoomon was lost and looking for Meiko during the entirety of Tri. She wanted nothing more than to find her way back to her, but of course, that wasn’t up to her. Meicoomon desires nothing more than to be with Meiko, but those of us who have seen Tri know that she doesn’t get to see that through. Still, she can’t help but say:

“Let’s keep smiling forever”

Tri always gave me a lot of feels, but somehow, Meicoomon gives me more of them than I ever think at first glance. So kudos to Meicoomon for being one of those characters that frustrates me as well as makes me cry.

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So this turned out longer than expected, but there it is. Some of these are more tangent-y than I meant, but that’s the way I analyze, I guess. At least I’ve got my thinking cap on, right...?

I highly recommend both “compilations”! I personally listen to “Boku ni Totte”, “Kimi ni Totte”, and “Kibou no Tsubasa” a lot, but I’ve been listening to “Yume no Kanau Basho” a lot lately. “Agumon SUNba” and “Daisuki-ism” are, of course, classics, but the rest are gems in their own right as well!