#and I’m finally figuring out ways to paint trees where I don’t have to sacrifice a paint brush every time

[chameleonfoots]

[ID: A spray painting in yellow black and white. The sky is yellow with white stars, with a light yellow planet to the left. In the foreground are multiple rows of yellow and black rocks, one of which has a single white tree with white leaves growing on the right side of the painting.]

Here’s the finished Artfight piece for @fawnnbinary and his character Icarus! I’m weak for: 1. The name Icarus and 2. Loners in need of love. This one is supposed to really show Icarus’s isolation, with hints of bright color peeking through.

[persephones-wren]

heyy! Could I request a Kaz brekker and reader fic where shes really sensitive and kind and the opposite of him and they're dating but he seems to be spending more time with inej planning a heist and reader gets jealous and during the heist she saved inej from a bullet, getting hurt in the process and tells Kaz,in a delirious state, that shes happy she saved inej for him and everyone helps him plan a picnic for her while shes healing and suprises her? Its quite a long request but it would be wonderful if you wrote it!! thanks💕

Ends of the Earth (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

Hope you enjoy reading! I had a lot of fun writing it :)

Warnings: reader gets shot, that's about it?

Genre: Angst to (minimal) Fluff

Word Count: 2126

You’re not sure how you could have ever expected him to return what you felt for him.

You and Kaz were essentially opposites- he was a hardened criminal, you were more of a person who just ran with the wrong people. He was mean and commanding, you were sweet and endearing. Where he’d kill people with no hesitation, you’d probably be torn over it for the rest of your life.

Though the Barrel seemed to have no room for someone as kind as you, you had found yourself to fit fine along with rest as someone to watch over the rest. Your skill of memorization was appreciated when Kaz needed to reflect back on a certain part of the plan, and besides, having someone counteract his cruelty was appreciated by the others.

Sometimes, like now, it was hard to be a part of the Crows. Watching Inej stand by his side, watching them work together like well-oiled parts of the same machine, it was bittersweet. You couldn’t help the jealousy that overtook you, but kindness was ingrained in you. You couldn’t hate him. You couldn’t hate Inej.

“So we’ll take them out there. Inej, I’m going to need your backup here.” His voice snaps you back into the moment.

“Got it.” She nods.

“Before then, though, You’ll be stationed here. Y/N, I’m going to want you to stick close to her. She can fight for the both of you in case anything goes wrong.”

You’re useless, you berate yourself. You’re going to need Inej to save you. Maybe if you could defend yourself the way she could, he’d like you more.

“Understood.”

“That should wrap everything up. We’ll meet at the usual spot tonight. We’ll take transport there and sneak in. From there, everything should go according to plan.”

…

Night quickly falls, and you’re all gathered.

“To reiterate, I’m going to go grab the paintings. Inej and Y/N, stick together and communicate when it’s safe. Jesper, you’re going to shoot out the lights when signaled, and make sure that carriages are ready when it’s time. Wylan, wait it out here with him. If all goes to shit, blow this place. Clear?”

Echoes of agreement echo from around you, and you nod. This should be an easy heist.

“Y/N, c’mon. Let’s head over this way.”

Inej takes your wrist and leads you to the edge of the building. Her stare is intimidating as she surveys the building, before turning back to you.

“I’ll scale the walls, and then I’ll use the rope to pull you up. We can wait on the top of the building for a bit, before slipping in through a window. That okay?”

Damn her for even being considerate to you. And you still have the nerve to be jealous over her. Her and Kaz are so similar- they’d be perfect for each other.

You still can’t find it in your heart to be completely happy about that.

“Y/N? You alright?”

“Huh?” you snap out of your reverie, and give a bashful smile. “Yeah, that’s good. I’ll spot you. Hopefully I’ll be able to get up there…”

Inej throws you a reassuring smile back. “You’ll be okay.”

You watch with awe as she scales the building with no issue, truly living up to the nickname she had been given. She’s nearly invisible as she reaches the top, you note. She’s incredible.

You wait on the ground patiently as Inej lowers the rope, before you hear voices.

You stare up at her, wide-eyed, before running and diving behind a tree.

“The wine good tonight?”

It’s a guard. Your heart rate quickens, and bring a hand over your mouth. Quiet your breathing. If they catch you, you’re dead, and you’ll be the dead weight of this mission.

“I don’t know, haven’t had a drink yet. Maybe once everyone’s gone. Ha! The Stadwatch won't penalize me if there’s no guests to guard!”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit! All we have to make sure is no scum tries to steal the painting.”

“Like anybody would dare show their face here.”

The other guard laughs, and you wait with baited breath as they finally round the corner.

You check both directions, before you quietly slip out.

“Inej?” you’re quiet and slightly shaken. Death and capture was always palpable on these missions, but it had come swinging at you quicker than you had expected. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” her voice comes from above. “I’m here. You’re fast on your feet. Good thinking.”

“Thank you, and thank you for waiting.”

The rope drops down for the second time, and you take a hold of it, pulling yourself up with a bit of her help. Your hands finally grasp the ledge of the building, and Inej extends one of her hands to help pull you up. You’re hauled onto the rooftop, and though it’s a bit ungraceful, you’re okay.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“No problem.”

Your eyes are both directed on the walkways below.

“You scout out for guards down there, and I’ll check for guards in the windows? We should signal to Kaz soon.”

“Sure.”

You keep a careful eye down below, hearing Inej scurry to different window points. You watch as she slips to one of them, peering through.

“Just our luck,” she mutters cheerfully. “This window’s fine. Let’s open it. I’ll go first, but send a flare for Kaz. I’m going to need that window open as soon as that flare goes up.”

“Alright.” You take a deep breath, before shooting the flare off. Inej thrusts open the window and pulls you in behind her.

You watch a figure walk past the doorway. That should be Kaz, and now, he should be slipping past you to go to the next doorway to take the painting-

“To the roof again, now-” Inej says, and starts to step out behind the boxes, and the figure turns back.

That’s not Kaz.

A click.

She’s going to be shot.

You’re acting on pure impulse and nerves when you shove her aside, and the bullet pierces through your shoulder. You crumble, and Inej tries to keep you from completely collapsing.

You grit your teeth. You’re trying not to let tears stream down your face, but everything hurts and Inej is over you and she’s saying something but you can’t hear her-

You try to force yourself to sit up, and you see a cane poised to hit the guard over the head. You turn away, and thank your murky hearing that you can’t hear the scream that emits from the guard.

Kaz.

“What happened?” His voice is losing it’s cool quickly.

“She was shot by the guard, I don’t think she’s quite registering it-” Inej’s voice is more panicked, but she forces herself to be analytical. “She’s going to need treatment, and quickly.”

“Okay,” he breathes in sharply. “Okay. Go down the hall, grab the paintings, and meet Jesper by the transportation. I’ll get her out.”

“Okay.”

Inej dashes down the hall, and he takes in your state. Your pupils are blown wide, and you’re trying not to cry, but it hurts.

“Kaz,” you breathe out. “Thank the Saints. Is Inej okay?”

He frowns at that. What about Inej? Inej was fine, you’d been shot. Did you have no self-preservation instincts?

“Inej is fine,” he mutters.

“That’s good,” you sigh out. “That’s good. I don’t quite think I’m going to make it out here alive, so just in case I don’t, I love you. Though I’m glad she’s okay, for your sake.”

His frown deepens. “I’m sorry? For my sake?”

“You’re in love with her. She with you. You guys can live your happy ending. As happy as the Barrel can get, anyway.” Your smile is slightly delirious, and he knows you’re not thinking rationally.

“Stop talking.”

“I’m sorry, are you mad at me? Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t-” you cough, “think I’d die, but if it’s for you and Inej, then I think it’s worth it.”

“Nobody is worth your life,” he nearly yells. “You’re not going to die, Y/N. I won’t allow it.”

“Please, just let me stay here. They’re going to find you if you don’t.” “I don’t care.”

He’s pulling off his jacket and carefully using it as a tourniquet for your shoulder.

“Can you walk?”

“Kaz, please-”

“Can you walk.” It’s a statement, maybe a threat.

“Maybe- maybe with a bit of support,” your words are weak. You’re running out of time. “The world looks sideways, though- face it, Kaz, I’m not going to make it. I don’t want to be dead weight, your touch aver-”

“I’m not going to combust into fucking flames if you lean on me! Goddamnit, let me help you!”

His anger startles you. You hold back more tears as he pulls you up. At least he took the care to pull you up by the other arm. “Okay.”

The world is spinning and his face isn’t clear, and time seems to speed up as both of you go through the hallways, finally meeting Jesper and Inej in the courtyard.

“Bloody hell,” Jesper mutters.

“Go. To the White Rose. Nina should be able to do something.” Kaz leaves no room for argument. You’re passed out now, and he’s almost thankful you can’t feel anything as the carriage rushes through harsh weather and bumpy roads.

I don’t quite think I’m going to make it out here alive, so just in case I don’t, I love you.

Were you that oblivious? Did you think he was in love with Inej? How could you be so blind?

How could you sacrifice yourself so he could live what you thought to be a “happy ending”?

You didn’t plan it, did you?

He carefully takes off one of his gloves, hovering his hand over your forehead.

You’re still warm.

He doesn’t believe in Saints, but now, he’s almost praying to them that you’ll be okay.

Please be okay.

...

Inej glances at Kaz, standing over her in the White Rose.

She’s been out for days at this point. Nina could only do so much, with whatever corpse-like power she’d gained. The rest had to be natural healing.

Inej clears her throat. “She’d go to the ends of the world for you. For your happiness.” Kaz remains still.

“Don’t make her do so again.”

..

Your eyes flutter open, the brightness of the room nearly rendering you blind.

Your shoulder hurts like a bitch, but besides that, you’re alive.

Happiness and heaviness fill your heart at once. You’re alive, you’re okay. What had you said to Kaz in your state?

Hopefully nothing stupid.

“You’re awake. I’m glad.”

Kaz’s voice comes from the edge of the room. He’s leaning on the wall, cane in hand. When was Kaz upfront with his emotions?

“Yeah. How long was I out for?”

“A couple of days.”

“Days?” Your voice cracks. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

That’s a lie. You thought you were dead, for sure. He doesn’t have to know that.

“...Right.” He’s skeptical, but pushes himself off the wall and makes his way over to you. “This may be a bit early, but would you want to go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Is he kicking you out of the Crows? Why would he want to go on a walk just after you’ve woken up? You’re screwed.

He waits for you to stand, and then you’re both walking side by side, into the gardens of the courtyard. He doesn’t say anything, just leads you to a small place under an apple tree. A picnic blanket is spread out, with a small basket laying on top of it.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and a brief smile flashes across his face. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“Kaz- what is all of this?”

“You said you loved me.”

Horror paints across your face, and you lower your head in shame. “I’m sorry, I didn’t, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, I know you love Inej, that- was a bit unprompted of me, I’m sorry-”

He blinks at your rushed words. “Y/N. I’m not in love with Inej. She’s part of the Crows, as are you. Though- if you mean it,” he clears his throat, “that you love me- then take this as a surprise first date.”

Your expression morphs into a shy smile. He’s probably not ready to say it back. It doesn’t matter. He feels the same way.

“Happy first date, then.”

You’re both talking and eating, small smiles on both of your faces, a stark contrast to the harsh atmosphere of Ketterdam. It doesn’t matter to him. You’re alive, you’re safe, and you’re with him. You’d go to the end of the world for him. He’d do the same for you.

He loves you.

[high-supernatural]

Rituals

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 2136

Warnings: typical tvd themes, S.Assault mentions/details, sex scene, they cut each other’s hands again

Summary: V finds a way to figure out what she is but it involves a sex ritual, Kai volunteers... sort of.

***since y’all like the one shots better than the series, I’m gonna write one shots for female readers under the name V for what I would’ve/will write in the series... read the series masterlist for any of this to make sense, lol***

As the weeks went on, V and Kai basically went back to normal. Kai was a little more stand-offish with pushing physical boundaries even though he knew that V didn’t know the real story.

She went back to obsessing over reading occult books to figure out why she had the abilities she was born with while they both spent their days watching movies while she recovered.

A month had passed until she found something.

Kai had been sitting on the couch as she sat at the desk, “Kai, I think I finally found something,” she said lost in thought.

“What’s the theory?”

“Well, it’s not a theory, it’s a method to see for myself, it’s like an astral projection,” she read, “it says ‘what is needed for a ritual to success is two negatively charged vibrations, energy in the form of a black flame, this symbol, and a mix of the two souls,’”

“Again, in English,” Kai sassed.

V let out a sigh, “it’s basic sex magic,” Kai’s eyes widened, and he looked away from her direction, “I spent all this energy searching and I could’ve found out through a basic sex magic ritual,” she sat back in her chair mildly disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, now all you have to do is trick somebody into some freaky sex romp,” he mumbled.

She paused before asking, “would I have to trick you?”

He looked back over at her with light eyes unsure of what to say, so she asked again with more infliction, “would I have to trick you?”

Kai stumbled on his words, “uh, I—, uh…”

V got up from the desk and went to sit by him, “awh, are you nervous,” she teasingly asked.

“No… it’s just, why me?”

“You’re a witch, you know the game, you’re probably the only one who won’t freak out about being proposed some sex magic sacrifice,” V looked at him for a second, “so would you,” she placed her hand on his forearm.

“What would we have to do?” he asked.

“It says to lay the symbol on the ground big enough for the two people, light a few black candles, say some words, mix a bit of our blood together… then get to it and close our eyes, supposedly it’s supposed to let both of us see into our souls.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Kai questioned. He felt uneasy with the idea, knowing that she wouldn’t even be worrying about this stuff if she had known the real story of what had happened weeks before.

“Then I guess you have a new ‘date from hell’ story to tell,” she smiled.

She knew he was nervous because he never asked so many questions. She figured it was the same emotions you get on a first date, jittery, clammy hands… so they decided to head to the store and come back with supplies.

V laid down a sheet on the floor and spray painted the symbol onto it so it had some time to dry. Kai stood and watcher her silently until she noticed him, “what,” she asked smiling, “nothing,” he looked away and sat down to get everything else out of the bag.

She sat the can down on the dresser and sat by him, noticing he was avoiding looking at her when she could see him.

“Why you so nervous,” she asked, “are you a virgin or something?”

His eyes twitched open wider, not expecting her to be so blunt with the question, “I mean, I’m sure there’s another way to do this,” he started.

“So you are,” she teased, nudging his arm playfully.

“I just don’t want you to regret anything,” he looked down.

“Why would I? If it doesn’t work then we saw each other naked, not a big deal. If it does work then I might have any sort of clue about what I am, I think it’s worth it, but if you don’t want to…” Kai interrupted, “no, I do if you do… I’m just nervous I guess,” he trailed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he muttered and scooted closer to her, trailing his fingers up his arm to cup her cheek, gazing down into her eyes in a way that made her feel like she was experiencing love for the first time all over again.

“You should kiss me for doing this for you though,” he whispered.

Her breath was too taken away for her to respond with words, instead choosing to close the gap between them with a passionate kiss lasting a minute before pulling away.

“Let’s do this,” Kai said, breaking the silence.

-----

V got up and arranged the candles in their appropriate spots before lighting them.

She leaned to grab Kai’s hand and pull him slightly, “ok, now get on the symbol and say the words.”

They stood in front of each other holding hands repeating the chant before they both lowered to sit on their knees.

“Now I cut your hand and you cut mine,” V spoke softly before cutting Kai’s hand and giving him the knife to cut hers.

She interlocked their fingers, “say the words again,” they looked into each other’s eyes and spoke, feeling the energy in the room shift as the candle flames blew rapidly.

“We both have to be 100% naked, by the way,” she teased as if she left that part out before her smirk went away and she pulled him into another kiss.

Her hand slid up his shirt to feel his chest and signal for him to remove it before it trailed down to his belt to unbuckle it.

Kai rested his hand respectfully on her knee with the other on her arm that cupped his face. He avoided telling her he was a virgin earlier when she asked, thinking she’d find somebody else like he had suggested. His whole body felt on fire waiting for her to tell him what to do.

She guided his hand that was on her knee to above her shorts for him to unbutton before guiding him to lay down.

He watched attentively as she slid out of her shorts on her way to placing both legs on either side of his, straddling him.

Again, he waited for her to tell him what to do. She leaned down to kiss him for a small moment before moving her lips to his neck, guiding his hand up the side of her thigh and the other up the front of her other thigh.

V took her lips from his neck and sat up to remove her sweatshirt, exposing that she hadn’t been wearing anything underneath it. Now Kai truly felt on fire, as if he was experiencing love for the first time like she did when he kissed her. He didn’t wait for her to guide him before he trailed his hand up her torso, leaving the other one to squeeze that curve where the hip meets the thigh.

His eyes were glued to her breasts until his hand grazed across one and up to her neck, pulling her back down to kiss him and finding one hand in her hair as the other explored her back and thigh.

Her hand reached down his stomach and into his unbuckled pants to feel him through the fabric of his boxers as her lips moved to nibble his ear and kiss down his neck again.

Kai unintentionally squeezed the parts where his hands laid when she moved her hand underneath his boxers and took him into her hand, pumping at an extremely slow pace before he pulled his pants down so he was fully exposed.

The tenseness in his body and expression of desperation on his face grew more evident when she sat up with her hands on his chest and grinded her core onto his with the pressure of a feather. He squeezed her arms again, “relax,” she whispered, trailing her fingers from his biceps to his hands, interlocking them after pushing them to rest above his head and leaning to kiss him again.

For the first time in a long time, Kai was frozen without knowing what to do in a situation. He was letting her take control.

V slid her panties to the side and aligned them before sliding all the way down onto him, placing her hand back onto his.

“You good?” is the last thing Kai heard before she started slowly bouncing up and down onto him.

After that, neither of them was in the room their bodies were in. They awoke out of their bodies in a forest place that was comfortably and eerily dark at the same time. Kai looked at her before he realized she wasn’t next to him anymore.

He called out her name with no response before seeing a large shadow dart across the room from the corner of his eye. He followed it and was met with a large gold-trimmed mirror leaning against a tree. There was something off about the mirror. He gazed into it, trying to make out what was so different about the way he looked before a large, frightening creature popped into the mirror.

Kai jumped back and stared at it. It had a large animal skull for a head with large, gnarly teeth and huge antlers, its body was covered from the neck down in a cloak, and its hands were shaped like a human’s hands, but they were discolored with long, sharp nails.

He looked at this creature in awe before it whispered in distorted breaths, “you…the chosen pair…”

Kai spoke anxiously, “what? What do you mean? What are you talking about?” He had never encountered anything like this, especially not this size.

The creature let out another distorted whisper and grabbed him, “protect her,” it said intimidatingly.

Kai and V both woke back in their bodies, out of breath and not in the positions they started in. Kai was now on top of her, and they were moaning like it was the last time they’d ever see each other as they both orgasmed at the same time before processing what they saw on the other side.

V threw her head back, digging her nails into Kai’s hair as he buried his face in her neck and rode them both out.

Before either of them had come down, V spoke frantically, “what the fuck was that” she pulled his face to look at her, “did you see that?!” in reference to the other side.

She stood up before Kai could get off her and put her sweatshirt on to sit at the desk and open her laptop. Kai sighed and pulled his pants and boxers back up before walking over to her.

“We’ve been gone for an hour and a half…” she said.

“No way, that had to have been five minutes, tops,” he responded dumbfounded.

“Check the time… an hour and a half on the dot…” she paused to analyze his puzzled facial expressions, “Kai what did you see?”

He scratched the back of his head, “I uh… we were in this forest,” she watched him attentively, “it was pretty dark, you disappeared, then I saw this gold mirror and this creature stood in it,” she interrupted him, “what did it look like?”

She started typing to document what they had seen, “it had an animal head with horns, wearing a black cloak, long hands…it was gigantic…” she interrupted again, typing without looking at him, “did it say anything?”

“It said something about me, then it said, ‘chosen pair’, and told me ‘protect her’,” he imitated the creepy way it spoke.

V glanced up at him and said nothing before looking back at her screen to type.

Kai sat at the desk across from her, “anyways, what’d you see,” he asked.

She glanced at him before typing again, “I don’t know. It all looked like a bad acid trip. One minute I was standing next to you…” she stopped and looked at him again before closing her laptop screen so she could see his full face, “it told you chosen pair?”

Kai shook his head, and she squinted her eyes in confusion and wonder, “did you look at me before we lost each other?” Kai shook his head no.

“We had a tie to each other… like a…” she struggled to find her words, so she drew a picture instead, “like this… it was like a red chord that extended into both of our chests… and then right after I saw it, something took me through like a tour of the matrix of the universe…” she explained.

Kai looked at her like she was actually on acid now. “It told me I could control all of it, then I came back…”

[e-jaegerenthusiast]

so this is goodbye

aot manga spoilers (everything + 139 included)

sketch by me (ik, ew)

warnings/tw; angst. heartache. agony 😁

summary; except for mikasa and armin, what did eren say to the others when he came to visit them?

song; visions of gideon-sufjan stevens

note; i was expecting the extra pages for 139 to be this. but oh well, i love them either way— aot has many stories to tell still. cant wait.

it was the least eren could do for him. after being his captain for so many years, making countless sacrifices for him, listening to him. he knew levi didn’t have a dream for himself, he knew his dream was erwin’s dream, erwin’s promise. so he could only guess what else he would like.

Levi flinched, one second he was sitting with the others on that damned ship, on their way to stop eren, but with a blink of his eye, he was sitting behind a bar. he glanced at his surroundings, trying to figure out what’s happening, he was always good at that, he needed to be. it wasn’t a bar, it seemed to be a counter of some sort, he ran his hand on the underside of the wooden counter, yet no dust came off when he brought his fingers to his own face.

the faint sound of a kettle diverted his gaze onto the stove not so far from him, he furrowed his brows, where was he? as he listened to the way the kettle boiled slowly, a familiar voice caught his attention. “hey...captain,” he had heard that voice call him captain one too many times. he didn’t even need to turn to know who it was, yet he still did. wanting to see with his own eye. eren was sitting in one of the round tables with 3 chairs, he looked younger. he looked like the same fifteen year old brat levi taught and looked after himself. his hair short, eyes burning a bright jade, no longer teal like present..present?

levi wanted to beat that brat up so much, didn’t matter if he was taller than him, or held the power of three powerful titans, he wanted to beat him to a pulp with his own knees. teach him how he has wasted his whole life protecting the boy, was war and genocide how he was going to repay him? repay their sacrifices? repay his sacrifice?

all thoughts were dusted away, sucked away into oblivion as eren spoke to him, levi looked down at his own fists, why were they clenched? why was he mad at fifteen year old eren? he was just a kid. “this is your tea shop captain, do you like it?” eren talked with a monotone voice, it felt like deja vü to levi, yet he didn’t know why. he couldn’t tell why his voice didn’t match his appearance. yet there was this nagging feeling in his brain , he shouldn’t be here.

“tea— tea shop? tsk, i don’t own a damn tea shop.” never in his life levi had doubts about anything, yet for once he spoke his words without knowing the truth behind them. eren looked down at his hands, stretching his fingers out before unstretching them again, he let out a sound, levi’s brows furrowed. was the damn brat laughing? or was he crying? he couldn’t tell what emotions eren held anymore.

“y’know captain,” eren spoke slowly as he got out of the table in the corner of the shop, making his way to the counter and sitting infront of levi, “you’re an ackerman. so obviously you won’t buy this stupid fake reality i made to try and condone my actions to you.” eren put a hand on his own forehead, tugging at his own hair, a tear drop rolled down his face, “it’s pathetic really, out of all the others, i don’t have anything planned to tell you, captain levi.” levi’s eyes widened and he seemed to be deep in thought, “it doesn’t matter if i apologize captain, it won’t bring back the lives of our soldiers who died for this, who died for me.”

levi was getting glimpses of memories back with each word that left eren’s lips, erwin’s limp body laying on that rooftop, petra’s neck pulled back against that tree, “i’ve failed you, captain levi.” hange’s hopefull eyes even as she dived into her own demise.

levi’s eye twitched, lunching towards eren over the counter, both of them falling down to the ground with what should’ve been an ear deafening noise, yet it was quite. it was quite as levi’s punches landed against the boy’s cheeks. it was quite until levi broke the silence, finally shouting. letting it out, “why?! why?! why did you do all this?! huh?” another punch to eren’s nose, yet he wouldn’t say anything, his eyelids low as he looked at levi with a grim expression. “god dammit you brat! why?! if you’re the all knowing! why couldn’t you change things? make it so that so many people wouldn’t have to die?!”

‘tell me if there’s another way!’ he had shouted at hange past the cells of his prison. he knew she was going to die. he knew and yet, shouting at her about not being able to change things was the last encounter between them before she burned within eren’s hell. he would see her later, not in this life. but he would cry and beg for her forgiveness as she smiles at him, making jokes about the bang she went out in.

levi’s knuckles were dripping blood now, yet he didn’t feel even the slightest of burning pain. he brought his hands up, the blood dripping down his fingers and onto his palm, painting it red. with a flick of both his wrists, the blood from his palm splattered onto eren’s face, mixing with the blood running down his nose. “this blood,” levi clenched and unclenched his fists, making more blood drip onto eren’s neck. “all of this blood, it’s on you, it’s on me, it’s on us.”

bang! a bullet. a damned bullet. shot by a young girl, a young hotheaded brat that reminded him too much of himself. he had seen it. he knew it was going to happen, yet why? why was he shaking? why was his heart trembling for the potato girl? why did he burst out crying? his own friends family forgetting the way he copes as they accused him of laughing at their friend’s death. how would he laugh? how could he laugh? it was all on him. he knew it. but he had to continue. for them.

with that, levi rolled off of eren, sitting on the wooden floor next to the boy as he took deep breaths, trying to calm himself. what was this feeling? he felt it all the way in his guts, traveling up his vocal cords and settling right above his adam’s apple. his lips trembled, his bloody hands coming up to cover his face, to try and mix the blood with the tears running from his eyes. why was he hitting eren?

they wouldn’t mix. his tears were hot, steaming down his cheeks as it burned him. eren’s blood.. eren’s blood had ran cold. blood shouldn’t be cold, levi of all people knew that, having felt it cover his hands and face one too many times. blood was supposed to be warm.

blood. blood everywhere. it was warm, burning his palms, burning his soul. he was just a kid, yet he had just killed two grown men. blood covered his hands, blood covered his soul. he knew he wouldn’t be the same. he knew the girl wouldn’t be the same after he wrapped the scarf around her.

he looked next to him, eren sitting with his legs crossed as they both sat in the center of the tea shop. levi looked down at his own hands, covered in blood, matching eren’s face. he blinked, eren’s face now clean, levi looked down at his own hands again, the blood was gone.

eren got up, holding his hand out for levi to hold, levi sighed, getting up as he used eren’s hand for leverage. “captain levi, i’ll explain everything to you as fast as i can, but you have to promise me something,” levi looked up at him, a sad expression on his face. “you have to help mikasa kill me. it’s the only way.” eren said as his face contorted into his older self, messy bun with loose strands falling down to his forhead. only way to what? it gave levi a headache.

-

levi never wanted to visit that god forsaken island again. he was content in marley, he had made a life for himself. his own tea shop, somehow it looked exactly like the one eren showed him. gabi and falco helped him take care of it, while taking care of him without his knowledge. sometimes he would find himself wishing he could visit eren’s grave, so he stared at the wooden floor of the tea shop, blood passing by his eyes as he wishes he didn’t paint the floors with it when he saw eren. he looks away as he feels a tear sliding down his cheek. that selfless brat.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

he would always be fighting with the boy, over things that did not need fighting over. but that’s what they say about frenemies, even as they act like they despise eachother, they truly admire eachother secretly. that’s what Jean felt for him. he was jealous sometimes, but mostly out of admiration for the brunette.

he always wanted a peaceful life, wanted to live happily next to someone he loves, he wanted a normal life. he didn’t even want to join the survey corps at first, wanting to thrive in the easygoing state of the military. yet, something about the hotheaded, determined boy sparred him on to risk his life, over and over.

Jean opened his eyes, the sunset could be seen on the distance not too far from the hillside. tall, green spruce trees sat around him, a cool breezing hitting them as he closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath. he was at peace, he didn’t know why but he was comfortable.

he opened his eyes the moment he heard the annoying voice of his rival, “oi, jean,” eren was sitting next to him, hair fanning around his neck. he looked like he was sixteen, but in jean’s mind, he always looked like that.

jean rolled his eyes, closing them and sighing as he laid down, feeling cool grass tickle his ears. “what are you doing here, idiot? don’t bother me when i’m relaxing.”

eren raised a brow as he looked down at jean, a small smile creeping its way accross his lips, “you’re always smart when you’re giving orders jean, what happened now?”

jean opened his eyes again, this time a slight shock twirling in his hazel orbs, leaning on one elbow as his face relaxed a bit, “right. we’re sitting here in your brain or something, as in reality, you’re actually destroying the whole world.”

eren rolled his eyes, a sad smile residing on his features. “listen jean, this isn’t going to be easy, none of this is. i’m just asking you to see eye to eye with me here?”

jean gave eren a sympathetic smile, slowly nodding his head, motioning for him to go on.

eren didn’t expect that, he didn’t expect jean to just sit and listen to his point of view of all people. his face contorted into one of confusion.

jean put his hand on eren’s shoulder, squeezing slightly as he nodded his head again, “i trust your judgment, eren.”

eren could feel tears pool in his eyes, threatening to fall any second, he was quite literally exhausted in every way. he needed a shoulder to cry on, he knew armin saw him breakdown, but it wasn’t enough. he felt like he could cry a river if he let himself. if his pride let him.

there was a heavy weight on his shoulders, the weight of the whole world, the weight of his friends’ and comrads’ lives, the weight of his own dignity, the weight of his decisions. the weight of the past, present, the future.

a single tear rolled down his cheek, he turned his head to the side quickly, wiping it away with his elbow but it was too late, jean had noticed it.

jean frowned, getting concerned as he wrapped one arm around eren, not really knowing what he’s doing.

eren’s body stiffened, his breath getting caught in his throat. jean took the silence as welcoming, wrapping another hand around him hesitantly, bringing eren close to his chest.

involuntary, the next breath eren let out turned into a broken sob, taking himself and jean by surprise as he broke down in jean’s arms, his screams echoing in the mountains and hilltops around them.

after a few seconds, eren calmed down a bit, moving away from jean as he wiped his eyes, hiding his head in his own arms.

jean chuckled, “idiot, did you just cry? what a baby.” he teased. eren looked at him with red eyes, letting out a chuckle, and several after that. playfully hitting jean’s shoulder

after their shared laughter died down, jean took a deep breath, “y’know eren... i never really hated you, i hope that—“ eren caught him off, saying in a low voice “i didn’t either, promise.”

jean gave him a sad smile, tears burning his own eyes as he tried to blink them away, “i know everything that you’re doing is for us. i know the others don’t realize it, but i do. i know it all has a reason behind it, yeah? suicidal bastard.”

eren nodded rapidly, weakly smiling as he spoke “i promise, yes. yes it does, i’m trying—“ his voice shook, “trying to do the right thing here, jean. everything— everything is happening so fast and at the same time and i just—“

jean ran his hand up and down eren’s back, “i know eren, i know. actually no, i’m stupid, and probably not even half as smart as you are. i can’t imagine or even begin to know what you’re going through.”

eren sniffed, looking back at jean with a pleading look in his eyes, “live a long life jean, please.”

jean gave a broken chuckle, “if you let me, yeah, that’s the goal.”

with that they both broke down, their tears not stopping as broken laughs left both the grown men’s mouths, pressing their foreheads together as they couldn’t even tell the difference between laughter or sobs anymore.

“and jean— make sure mikasa’s happy.”

jean tried to speak but eren shushed him,

“please, draw me for her. i know you can. make sure she doesn’t forget my face, yeah?”

“and take care of her jean, make her happy.” he said with a broken sob.

-

he would hug his own knees as he visited eren’s grave, he would talk to him as if he was there, teasing him and calling him an idiot, in hopes he could hear it from somewhere. he would sit in silence, covering his own ears occasionally. suicidal bastard, he thought as he would repeat their conversation in his head by the hillside as the sun rose.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Connie was always the goofy guy of the group, he’d make eren laugh a lot when they were together. his compassion being shown with jokes and snarky comments here and there.

they were really good friends, eren didn’t know when connie stopped being his goofy self, he didn’t know when he stopped making jokes with him. he had forgot it all, his memories like broken fragments of glasses all messed up in his head.

maybe it was when sasha died, when connie was left alone and broken. when he lost his twin, his other half. when he looked eren in the eyes with horror swirling in them instead of humor, tears rolling down his cheeks as it seemed all of the color from his face was drained and thrown off that damned airship.

maybe he lost all hope in eren then, maybe he thought of him as maniac, a complete psychopath who would laugh at his own family’s death.

little he knew all that eren was going through for them, little he knew all the things the young boy had to endure just because he was born into this world.

hot embers of fire swirled around in the cold air as wind blew, it was silent, peaceful. connie looked around himself, the crackling fire burning brightly on what seemed to be a rocky side of the beach, the sound of waves crashing against nearby stones filling his ears.

he looked up, sky littered in twinkling stars that seemed to be winking just for him. and not long passed before he heard eren’s smooth voice, mildly startled as he looked next to him.

eren was sitting there, staring up at the stars as each of them seemed to twinkle in his emerald green eyes, he looked fifteen, like when they first became friends. like when he would hear his stories and be impressed by the brave boy that wanted to take on all the titans by himself.

“hey, connie, why do you think starts die?”

connie chuckles, “i don’t know, they get sick?”

eren raises his brows, “well, kind of, yeah.”

eren sighed, “fine i’ll tell you, you’ve always been bad at riddles anyway.”

connie pushed him with his elbows slightly as he rolled his eyes.

“they die out, one day they just... get tired and exhausted of shining. even though they look really pretty, they die too.” eren sighed.

connie frowned, slowly realizing where he is and why eren is there. he looked at eren with wide eyes.

eren turned to him, eyes pleading as he spoke, “i’m sorry about sasha, connie. i really am. i swear i couldn’t stop it, if i could, i would. it’s not like that it’s—“

connie stopped him, startling the boy as he hugged him. “it’s okay eren. she would forgive you.”

eren smiled, another tear rolling down his cheek, god dammit.

“your mom can be saved, i’ll save her. i’ll do it connie. live a long life with her.”

-

he would smile at the sky constantly, always staring at the starts as they twinkled down at him, he knew eren was one of them. he hoped at least. “my mom did live eren, thank you.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

eren would look up to Reiner like his own older brother, like his mentor. times were he fell on his ass during training, reiner would be there to pick him up. to always lend him a hand when he needed it.

he didn’t know he would have to go against eren numerous times, every battle of theirs ending with both of their titans beaten down and their souls exhausted, never really having a clear winner.

reiner hated that part of himself, that part that thought of eren as a younger brother, as an ambitious kid that was too goal-driven for his own good.

he also hated the part of himself that longed to kill eren, to finally fulfill his task that made him lose bertoldt, to finally have that weight off his shoulders. to finally be at peace with his family.

in conclusion, reiner hated all parts of himself. he wanted to put an end to himself, yet he couldn’t do it, he was too cowardly, and he also hated himself for that.

the sound of a river could be heard in the distance as reiner sighed, his head aching and not knowing his surroundings, he wasn’t supposed to be here. he was supposed to be fighting. fighting for his life, fighting for other’s lives.

“oh, reiner.” eren’s voice startled him as he looked to his side, eren’s hair long and facial hair on his face was bringing deja vu to reiner. if he weren’t terrified that day, he would be impressed by how much eren has really grown.

reiner sighed, nodding his head in response. “help my friends, they were once yours too. they still are, reiner.”

reiner felt a stinging in his eyes, yet he couldn’t tell what it was as he looked at eren, nodding rapidly, “i am. i know. you were all my family too, eren.”

reiner cried, eren having a sad smile on his face as he watched him. “i want you to live a long life reiner, just like all of them, okay? please don’t end it yourself.”

reiner’s hands shook as he looked at eren, “i’m not even half the man you are eren.”

“you looked out so well for all of us, i promise i will too, i’ll take care of them, bro.”

“good.”

-

he never thought suicidal thoughts anymore. he stopped hating himself for everything. he would visit eren’s grave with a smile, thanking him under his breath quietly, checking in on all of his friends more and more as he found his true self.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Annie didn’t feel much towards the boy, he thought he was a hotheaded idiot who was going to meet his end by annie herself.

yet she was wrong, he was way stronger than she thought. and she admired that.

annie blinked, warm sun dancing on skin as she stood up, she was surrounded by flowers, the smell of colorful tulips filling the air with the soft breeze.

she walked through the field, closing her eyes as she breathed in the scent of the flowers, calming her senses.

when she opened them, eren was standing infront of her, hair short and physique small as he looked just like the last time she saw him, the last time she tried to kill him.

“long time, annie.” he mumbled, his hands inside his pockets as he walked closer.

annie clenched her fists by her sides, taking a deep breath as she looked at him, and then she realized it.

she realized where she was and how she was one of the many people who started this. who turned eren into this, a frown sat on her features as she started panicking, wanting to scream.

she felt eren’s hand on her shoulder, calming her breathing slightly and taking her out of her trance.

“calm down, annie. it’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

“i’m sorry, eren.”

eren gave her shoulder a squeeze, reassuring her as he gave her a soft smile, “take care, annie.”

-

she kept the ring, it reminded her of eren, the only stupid little thing reminding her of all the hardships she’s had to overcome, all the things eren had to overcome as she was frozen in time in that damn basement. she would live her life to the fullest now. his sacrifices wouldn’t go to vain.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

and so, even if war continues, even if all eren’s sacrifices barely made a dent in history, at least his friends were thankful. they were thankful as they lived long lives without no longer having to fight for it constantly. thanking eren and holding him dear in their hearts at all times.

© all content belongs to e-jaegerenthusiast, do not repost or copy any of my work

[airiat]

Boy with the Sun Song (VII.)

iorveth/f!oc | m | friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort | no warnings apply

vesta aep maghenn knows iorveth (iorveth aep mirbrach, to her) in a way that no one else can claim: they grew up together in the blue mountains and have been the closest of friends ever since. when iorveth’s unit is wiped out in an ambush by a powerful but unknown  adversary, he seeks shelter with vesta until it’s safe for him to rebuild.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part 7

[read on ao3]

“Something the matter?” 

I looked up from the notebook I had been writing in over to where Iorveth sat on a tree stump in the grass, shaping a length of wood for my new bow. Soon after our first lesson, he sent me into Vengerberg with a pouch of coin, some mine, some his, and a very detailed, carefully curated list of the supplies I was to get. He told me that this was not how he’d normally liked to do things--his Scoia’tael had their own sources for materials--but such was the condition of his new position in life. 

Still, he’d become much more content after he’d taken on this project, the feel of his energy now resembling something more like the music he plays on his flute.

While I was endlessly happy to see him in higher spirits, Iorveth’s constant presence was a damper on my creativity. I still wrote relentlessly, as I always did, but every time I put ink to paper, the only words that seemed to come were ones about him.

“What?” I asked.

“The looks you’ve been giving your paper…” Iorveth responded. “I might have to use some of them in my next fight.”

“Shouldn’t you be whittling your ploughing wood instead of watching me?” I retorted. 

The scarred side of his lips tilted into a half-smile. “I was, in fact, ‘whittling my ploughing wood’ but all your huffing distracted me.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, returning my gaze to the accursed words on the page before me. Something about a scar ‘like red lightning across a pale sky.’ Abysmal. A disgrace to the Common tongue.

“What is it, Vesta?” Iorveth pressed.

“Nothing,” I answered without lifting my eyes from the paper. “I don’t think you could help.”

“Perhaps I could,” he said. “Why don’t you give me a chance?”

Perched in my hammock strung up high between two tall trees, I had an excellent view of him sitting below me. So plain, so unassuming he looked in his simple green tunic, the tangle of leaves and branches inked on his neck rising past the collar. 

He’d stopped wearing his scarf as often, choosing instead to brush his hair over the disfigurement in a dark, but less intense covering. In that very way, he looked so much like the Iorveth I’d always known--Iorveth aep Mirbrach--not Iorveth the Scoia’tael, Iorveth the criminal.

And then it hit me.

“What if I wrote your story?”

He looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted wings and started squawking like a bird. “My story? What bloede story could there possibly be to tell?”

It was my turn to look at him with the same bewilderment. “Are you kidding me? You’re a living legend, Iorveth.”

He muttered something that sounded like ‘son of a whore’, but I couldn’t hear him clearly enough from where I sat to be sure. Regardless, he scowled and his energy began to churn like storm clouds on the horizon.

“I’m no legend,” he said, loud enough for me to hear that time. “I’ve simply been doing what needs to be done. Nothing more.”

“And building a legacy in the process,” I persisted.

“If that’s how you want to look at it, then fine,” he said. “But that’s not the way I do. I have no story to tell.”

“I have an audience, Iorveth. When I speak--write--people listen. My work has reached all across the Continent.”

“That’s wonderful,” he replied, raising his hands to give me a fake round of applause. “I’m so happy for you, Vesta.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know you understand the power of a story,” I said. “Look at how much of our culture is built upon them. Look at what your story did for Saskia.”

“Some ploughing good that did,” he snapped. “For any of it.”

“Iorveth, could you hold your tongue for one godsdamn minute?” I snapped right back at him.

“Fine, fine,” he relented, inclining his head as if to tell me to continue. “I’m listening.”

“I could write you as a hero,” I began. “I could paint all your deeds under the most beautiful, noble light. I could make people sympathize with you, wonder how they’d ever hated you. Look at everything they’ve taken from you after everything you’ve done for them--we could say that you lost your eye defending Vergen, a haven for humans and nonhumans alike. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“But why should I care about what a bunch of filthy dh’oine think of me?” 

“Don’t be so dense,” I responded. “To further your cause, of course.”

Iorveth didn’t seem to be appeased by that. In fact, it brought the winds of his anger back to a gale force when they had begun to die down. “Why should I whore myself out to become some dh’oine’s infantile little fantasy of what an Aen Seidhe ought to be like?”

 “I know,” I admitted. “I know that part of it isn’t ideal.”

“If you know, then why even suggest it?”

“Because I had hoped that for once in your life, you could set aside your pride and do something for the greater good.”

“My pride,” he scoffed. “What about my honor?”

“The honor is that your sacrifice will make life better for all of us,” I answered. “Your actions have done some good for us, but your reputation still precedes you. Whether you intended for it to or not, your image is what the dh’oine see when they think of us.”

Iorveth didn’t say anything for a long time, returning instead to work on my bow. His attention was not entirely on it, however. I closed my eyes, sat back against my hammock, and felt him cycle through the stages of grief in rapid succession until he finally stopped on resignation. I would have preferred acceptance, but I settled for that.

“If I did agree to let you write this, what would I need to do?” he asked.

I remained exactly as I was, trying not to betray my excitement. “You would have to tell me about everything you’ve done and I would figure out how to best shape it to suit our purposes.”

“You do realize the nature of my past, yes?”

“I’ve heard bits and pieces of it,” I said lightly.

“And it won’t change the way you think of me? You won’t see me as a monster the way everyone else does?”

I sat up and opened my eyes, locking my gaze with his. “No. It won’t. You’re the dearest friend I have, Iorveth. Nothing could change that.”

The tips of his ears reddened, a light flush sweeping across his face as he looked away from me. “We’ll see if you’re still saying that by the end of this.”

“I have the utmost faith.”

“If you say so…” he hedged, but I knew he wasn’t convinced.

“When would you like to begin?” I asked.

Iorveth shrugged. “Right now, I suppose. Not as if you were having any luck with whatever you were writing earlier.”

“Hey,” I protested. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I’m quite certain I do,” he said, cracking a small smile. “Your huffing and puffing was so loud I could hardly hear myself think.”

“Fine,” I said, reaching for my notebook and holding my pen to it. “Whenever you’re ready.”

[starlightsearches]

Sunshine pt. 2

It’s finally here! I got a ton of love for my CEO! Hux oneshot Sunshine, and I’ve been thinking about doing a part 2 ever since. Let me know what you guys think!

Requests are closed  ✨

CEO! Hux x Barista! Reader Modern AU

Warnings: I genuinely don’t know. Probably nothing?

Hux hasn’t been able to get a good look at you—not since he saw you waiting for him outside the restaurant he had chosen—and the sight of you looking so lovely in the fading evening light had made him stop in the middle of the road, frozen where he stood until the chorus of honking cars had motivated him through the rest of the crosswalk. It’s still burned in his mind, printed on the backs of his eyelids: the way your hair brushed against your cheek in the soft breeze, the graceful movement of your arms as you gave him a little wave, your sunshine smile.

Now that you’re together, waiting in the lobby of the restaurant for your table, he can only take you in glimpses, and each one fills him with more pleasure than before. He can tell that you put in a little extra effort for tonight—extra effort for him, and it’s making him jittery, nervous, like he’s had too much caffeine.

You seem fidgety too, as he sneaks another glance, brushing your fingers over your skirt, smoothing the fabric beneath your palms again and again like it might change into something else with just a touch. It’s a very pretty garment, a red sundress that hugs your curves tightly and flows gently over your hips—a detail he noticed from the beginning—but he can tell that you feel self-conscious as you stare at the glittering socialites that litter the restaurant in their matte black dresses and red-bottom shoes. You’re out of your element, here, and although you probably can’t tell, Hux is too.

“You look beautiful,” he still can’t look at you straight on, but he manages to whisper the words in your direction as he takes one of your hands in his, a bold move that he should have done long ago. It’s hard for him to remember that you agreed to be here with him—that you gave him your number without him asking, that you must return at least some of his feelings. This thought is confirmed when you look him in the eye, gifting him with a grateful smile that makes his heart race.

“Thank you,” you say, looking down again, breaking eye contact and giving him a chance to recover, “have you been here before?”

“No, actually, but I hear the food is excellent,” he replies, and you nod, examining the space. He had panicked almost immediately after making the call the night before, his hands shaking as he dialed the number you had given him, his mind providing him with plenty of outlandish scenarios to keep him occupied while the dial tone sounded off in his ear. What if you had given him a fake number? What if he had typed it incorrectly? . . . What if you had changed your mind? That panic hadn’t ended with your agreement to meet him for dinner—now he had to plan the perfect evening.

Phasma had been the one to suggest this place when she found him spiraling in his office with about a million different restaurant reviews open on his computer. It’s beautiful, decorated with crisp white furnishings and sparkling chrome lights. The outer wall is made entirely of large panels of glass, reflecting the bustling city outside in shiny streaks of color.

“Are those . . . paparazzi?” you ask skeptically, looking through the windows; the foyer is filled with excited whispers as the other guests notice the minor commotion outside, and Hux’s eyes snap to the street.  He can see them, maybe three or four of the vultures, the flashes on their cameras creating tiny pinpricks of light as they snap their pictures. “I wonder who they’re here for,” you say, looking around the lobby again before peering into the dining area of the restaurant, searching for any familiar, famous face.

“Oh god,” Hux shudders involuntarily, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you away from the windows, shielding you from the view of the street with his own body. Of course they would find him again, tonight of all nights. Months of relative freedom, of anonymity, and it's tonight that they suddenly reappear, ready to torment him.

He's still holding onto you, holding you so close that he can smell your shampoo, feel the heat of your body permeate the space between you, but he’s too preoccupied to enjoy it, trying instead to catch the attention of anyone who could fix this. All it takes is a sharp glance at the host, and suddenly he’s on the move, whispering to one of the staff and they push through the crowd and out the doors to take care of the problem.

“I sincerely apologize, sir,” a man in an expensive suit approaches soon after, the restaurant manager maybe, wringing his hands and looking repentant, “I can show you to your table right away.” He sets off through the waiting crowd, a few of its members turning to look at Hux with incisive eyes, whispering to their companions in hushed tones, trying to figure out who he is and why those people were trying to snap a photo. Hux ignores them, turning his attention back to you, offering his arm. You take it, after some hesitation, and there’s a slight scowl on your face as you try to understand what’s just happened, even though you don’t have all the pieces.

You’re led to a table towards the back of the restaurant—a relatively private space away from any windows or other guests, and Hux thanks the man with a nod and the discreet passage of crisp bill into the his waiting hand. Your face is still stormy as you take your seat, and Hux is nervous again for all the wrong reasons.

“You told me you work for the First Order,” you say as soon as he joins you at the table, trying to appear nonchalant—but he can read the worry in your face, hear the tremble in your voice as you speak the next words, “what exactly do you do?”

Hux winces, avoiding your gaze. He needs to learn how to talk to you, and fast. He hadn’t lied to you, not intentionally, but he hadn’t forced the conversation either. For most people, work was only one facet of their lives, but for Hux, it was everything. He had made the First Order, shaped it through great personal sacrifice; for him, work had always come first. He had never believed that anything could come into his life that would matter more. Until he met you.

He meets your gaze across the table, taking you in; even when you’re serious you make him feel gentle, make his blood thrum through his veins and his mouth go dry. No more secrets. He’ll tell you everything.

“I’m the CEO,” he says it with more confidence than he feels, trying to force the casual tone typical for first dates, but it still comes out weighted.

“Oh my god,” you suck in a breath, turning away from him and gripping the edge of the table, holding yourself steady.

“Are you upset?” He can't be sure just by the way you look, but you won't meet his eyes, and there’s no trace of a smile on your face now.

“I’m . . . surprised,” you finally speak after a pregnant pause, “when were you going to mention that?”

“It’s not something that comes up in casual conversation,” it’s a poor excuse, but it’s the only one he has; he doesn’t have the words to explain how much he wanted you to like him, how willing he was to tailor himself into something you would love for as long as he could manage.

“I mean, I'd like to know what I’m getting into, especially if things like that-" you nod your head towards the lobby, "-are going to happen." Your voice is a little breathless, a slight laugh punctuating your words. He watches as you let go of the edge of the table, sliding your hand across the pristine white tablecloth, reaching for him.

He's on fire—glowing even, maybe—watching you, in real time, choose to be with him. That's never happened before, with anyone.

“I’m sorry,” he says, meeting you halfway, placing his hand over yours and enjoying the warmth, “I should have told you. Can you forgive me?”

“Yes, but no more secrets,” you state firmly, with a mock frown that doesn't touch the mischief in your eyes, “I like you, Armitage, but you can’t keep things from me.”

“Of course, it won’t happen again,” he responds, his mind is elsewhere, though, as he plays those words on repeat, committing the sound to memory. You like him. You like him.

“So there’s nothing else you want to tell me?” you ask, the question sprinkled with humor and you widen your eyes with mock astonishment, “Oh god, you’re not married or anything, right?”

“Would that be a deal breaker?” he asks, and your mock surprise turns real before you catch on. You’re only able to hold back your laughter for a moment before it bursts out of you—loud and bright and confident—and the sound of it fills the room with light.

The sun is setting over Central Park, the last rays reaching through the thready wisps of clouds that paint the sky, coating them in a golden glow. It's a cool evening in the fading light of New York City, a cool night made warmer by the feeling of your hand in his, the sparks that travel to his heart every time he feels your arm brush against him as you walk among the trees with the slow, comfortable pace of people who have nowhere they'd rather be.

"What are you thinking about?" Your voice is a whisper in the growing darkness, the streetlights along the path flickering on, casting glowing pools along the ground.

"Nothing," Hux responds, surprised to find that it's true. He's not thinking about work, not thinking about Ren or Snoke, or any of the million tasks he'll need to complete tomorrow. He's at peace, being here with you. Your presence has put a pause on everything in his life that he has yet to figure out. "What about you?"

"I'm thinking," you say, pulling him gently to a stop, "that I'd like it if you kissed me, Armitage."

Hux is sure that he's going to combust. He finds himself searching the area around you, looking for prying eyes. There's no one; it's just the two of you in your own private orbit. Still, he can’t help but feel tense; he’s not used to showing affection at all, let alone in public. 

 You move in closer, brushing the tips of your fingers over up his arm, watching as they climb higher and higher until he can feel the soft press of your skin against his cheek.

"Please?" you ask him again, and who is he to deny you? He cups your face with his hands, thumbs resting on the edges of your smile before he presses a gentle kiss against your lips.

It's like holding a star, kissing you—Hux can hardly process the feeling, but he doesn't need to understand it to relish the way your body presses against his, or the strength of your arms wrapping tightly around his neck as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss and slipping your tongue against his own.

Out of all the stars in the night sky, the sun and the moon and the distant planets, in the farthest reaches in the galaxy, Hux is sure that there is no light in the known universe that shines as brightly as you.

[yandere-society]

Day 7 | Hypothermania

Synopsis: Normal people don’t find an upside to dying of hypothermia. But then again, normal people don’t wake up in the afterlife and find they’re able to freeze anything with a mere touch. Of course, you would never use this power for evil… not until hell freezes over. Time to spice up the underworld, just in time for the holidays.

The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist

Pairing: Demon!Jungkook x Female Reader 

Admin: @psycho-slytherin​

Trigger warnings: yandere themes, mentions of death and dying, blood, strong language

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Cold. you’re cold. Your breath, your blood– you’re made of ice. You’re… sleeping? No, your limbs are too light, your heartbeat too quiet. And you’re cold. 

“Where…?” It’s dark. You can’t see your hand in front of your face. The darkness is eternal, as though it’s trying to eat you alive–

Hope. you see a pinprick of light in your mind, and you hear a plea almost destructive in its grief.

Come home. Come home to me.

“I’m coming,” you whisper, your voice echoing from every corner of the darkness. The voice will save you. You just need to follow it. Come home to me.

“Ah!” You open your eyes and cough, feeling as though your lungs were filled with water. Where are you? You’re surrounded by trees, the dim sky growing darker.

Your eyes catch the unnatural blue-purple tinge of your fingertips. Your joints feel stiff, frozen, as you stand up. What’s going on? The last thing you remember is playing hide-and-seek with your friends and family at your annual holiday party. 

Your boyfriend was It, and you had found an abandoned animal burrow to hide in. Jungkook had this habit of always managing to find you, but not this time. You felt yourself shivering, the cold seeping through your layers. Maybe you should get out. But when you pressed against the snow-covered entryway, you encountered resistance. You were… trapped?

Okay. You must’ve passed out or something during the game. But then… why are you alone in the woods, and not in the hospital? And why is there a circle of stones surrounding you? You pick up a stone to examine it, when suddenly–

“The hell?” You blink, for the stone has turned silver-blue and freezing cold. Ice. The rock…  the rock is made of ice. Is this a prank? Special effects? You drop it and stare openmouthed as it shatters against another stone.

You stand, staring at the shards of rock-ice. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it… You need to get home. Yes. That’s what needs to happen. Your family, your friends, your boyfriend–

Jungkook. Will he know what to do?

You pat your pockets– of course you don’t have your phone on you, but maybe Jungkook…

Your thoughts are interrupted by a freezing weight settling on your shoulders, spreading upwards from your pockets. What? Your arms have become stiff, restricted by your suddenly immobile sleeves. 

Off, get off… you wriggle out of your coat and watch as it, like the stone, falls to the earth with a solid, icy clunk.

“What the fuck. What the fuck.” You stumble towards a streetlight, now visible in the darkness. You’re closer to civilization than you thought, and you reach the road quickly. In your stupor you manage to trip over a crack in the sidewalk, catching yourself on some loose cobblestones which, just like your coat and the rock, promptly turn to ice. “No, no, no– what’s happening?”

Come home to me. Every instinct is pulling you to Jungkook. 

“I’m coming,” you murmur, your voice raw. You don’t understand what’s going on, but you know you need to find Jungkook. He’ll help. 

As for your hands… you examine them closely as you walk, scared to touch anything. What if you freeze the whole neighborhood? Your fingers seem normal, albeit numb and stiff from the cold. 

Wait, you know this street corner. Jungkook’s house isn’t far from here. 

Holding your hands away from you, you speedwalk down the snowy streets. The neighborhood is alive with twinkling lights and festive music, and the cold, which you remember like an ache in your bones, doesn’t seem to be affecting you as much– even without your coat.

Jungkook has always believed in you. Sure, it’s only been a few months, but you can trust him. You remember where his house is, but in the time you’ve dated, you’ve never been inside. Jungkook has always bemoaned his messy tendencies, and you understand. But it’s an emergency– and you need him by your side.

You walk up the steps and you’re about to knock on the door when you stop. Will the door turn to ice? You can’t risk it. You open your mouth to call out Jungkook’s name, but a voice from inside stops you.

“Accursed game… humans and their games… well, look what happened. And the summoning, it didn’t even work! Fires of Hades, why didn’t it work?”

That… that sounds like your boyfriend. “Jungkook?” You call cautiously, in case he has company over. “It’s me, y/n.”

“Y/n?” You hear heavy footsteps before the door swings open, and your beautiful, brilliant boyfriend stands in front of you. The sudden relief at finally seeing him makes you want to cry.

“Y/n. Oh, hell, it really is you. I thought I lost you.” Jungkook reaches out to hug you and you step backwards quickly.

“Don’t touch me,” you say, your heart clenching at Jungkook’s puppydog eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me, sweetheart,” Jungkook replies, but withdraws. “Here, come in, you must be freezing.”

You gratefully follow him into the living room. Contrary to what he told you, it’s perfectly tidy. 

“I just need to know what happened,” you tell him, settling on the couch. “I don’t remember anything after playing hide-and-seek.”

“Ah.” Jungkook pauses. “Well, to be perfectly honest… you died.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, what?” You ask politely.

“You died,” Jungkook says again, louder.

“No, I heard you.” You go to rub your temples before remembering the whole ice thing. “I’m just waiting for you to say you’re joking. It’s been a long day, Jungkook, I don’t need to be teased.”

“Angel, I’m not teasing.” Jungkook reaches for your hand and you flinch, moving away. “We dug you out hours after the game ended. It was too late.”

“What?” You croak, the weight and grief in his voice overtaking you.

“You died of hypothermia last week, y/n.”

The darkness. The voice. The cold, oh, the cold. You were gone, so far from the earth, and yet never having left.

“Okay, stop.” You wave your hands, blinking hard. “You can’t keep saying I died when I’m sitting in front of you like this!”

“Well, yeah.” Jungkook looks at the ground. “That’s sort of my doing. It took so long that I thought it didn’t work at all, to be honest.”

“You… what, you want me to believe you resurrected me?” You start to laugh, but Jungkook continues staring at you earnestly, his gaze filled with such devotion that you actually begin to believe him. “How?”

Jungkook stands, nodding to a flight of stairs that you could have sworn weren’t there a moment ago. “Let me show you.”

You follow him downstairs into the basement, careful not to touch the wall or banister. How are you going to tell him you turned into Elsa postmortem?

“What do you know about dying, y/n?” Jungkook asks, switching on the lights.

You blink in the sudden brightness, adjusting to the empty basement. “Uh, it’s bad?”

“Do you know how people die?”

“If you’re my great-aunt Leslie, you get knifed by your partner after they backstab you during a bank robbery. And if you’re me, I guess…” you shiver, clenching your fists. “You get cold.”

“To die,” Jungkook says, lightly tapping the bare basement floor. “A soul must be summoned to the afterlife by a demon. Or an angel, but usually a demon. We’re all sinners, y’know.”

“Uh-huh…” you decide to play along as Jungkook seems to lose himself in his thoughts. “Now what if a demon summoned a soul, but that demon was on Earth?” 

“I guess the soul would remain on earth,” you reply. “But what does this have to do with–”

Jungkook snaps, and you freeze. At his movement, splashes of color reveal themselves: ragged lines of red paint all over the walls, runes decorating the floor, and in the center of it all– a table, on which a bright red circle surrounded a set of items you don’t recognize. But none of this was there before. “What… wha…”

Your boyfriend saunters over to the table. “It was harder, way harder than just summoning you downstairs. I had to make certain sacrifices. But I’ve made a life for myself up here, and I needed you with me. I figured, if dying for humans just means bringing you home to the Underworld, nothing’s stopping me from bringing you here.”

Come home to me. That voice. So it’s real? He’s telling the truth?

“You’re a demon?” You manage. 

Jungkook bows. “At your service.”

He can do magic. He’s a demon. Maybe he can help you with the ice?

“Jungkook, I…” You stare at your hands. “I didn’t come back right.”

“What do you mean? Of course you did. Satan himself wrote the summons.”

“No, I mean-” You sigh and look around, eventually reaching for the table. With the deliberate action, you at last can feel the cold flowing through you, pouring into the table and freezing it solid. You step back and see Jungkook, his eyes wide as he looks between you and the now-ice table. 

“Hades below…”

“Can you fix it?” You ask simply. Sure, your boyfriend is a demon, and sure, you apparently froze to death a week ago, and the red paint on the walls kinda looks like blood, but you’re pretty certain that if you asked nicely, Jungkook would do anything for you. He’s just that kind of guy. Demon? Whatever.

“I…” Jungkook furrows his brow. “Of course, angel. Even if I have to go to Hades and back. Which, by the way, is an eternal flight.”

“Now you’re just messing with me,” you laugh, about to punch him playfully before you remember. Your hands. “So, uh, how did you bring me back?”

“Usually the summons just requires an incantation,” Jungkook says, examining the ice table. “The dead hear our voices and follow us down. But to bring you back to Earth, where you already lived…” he nods to the array of things on the table. “The summons was more complicated. Some orphan tears here, a bit of a virgin’s flesh there– that one was so easy to get, I can’t believe people are into that stuff– some of your hair, a bit of blood I had stored in the back, y’know.”

“What?” Blood? You step back. “Did you– Jungkook, did you kill anybody?”

A beat. “No,” Jungkook says eventually.

“That was a fucking long pause, Jeon Jungkook,” you reply.

“I thought about it, I really did. Your mom, those friends of yours we were playing with, I mean your damned dog for not finding you sooner. But then I realized…” Jungkook cups your face in his hands, his lips almost brushing yours. “You were hiding from me. So your death was my fault, no one else’s. The only one who should have died is me, and–” Jungkook chuckles quietly. “I can’t even do you that favor.”

“Well, I like you alive,” you say fiercely. “But if you killed my dog I would freeze you before you could say sorry.”

Jungkook raises his hands. “Noted. Anyways, I just talked to the great Master Satan himself, and…”

“Wait, what? When?”

Jungkook taps his head. “All in here, angel. He says we can fix your ice thing, we just have to wait until sunset. And we’ll need a blood sacrifice.”

“We just missed sunset,” you complain. You’ll be stuck with these hands until tomorrow?”

“Guess I’ll have to feed you, if every fork you hold turns to ice,” Jungkook laughs. “In the meantime, Christmas is coming up. Want to use that new ability to decorate? And surprise your family?”

You crack your knuckles. Ignoring everything else, you’re alive, and you’re magic. Jungkook may be a demon, but he’s your demon. And he brought you back home– how’s that for a Christmas miracle?

[anokaiwritingblog]

Finally completed my short story assignment. My classmate tore into it and call it confusing and that I should just throw it away but I still love it :)

As preface, this still is not a complete story. I need to heavily emphasize that it’s just the beginning, middle, and end. All the connection bits aren’t included since this is just a showcase. I distinctly separated it using a boarder. So, it will be confusing if you read it straight as if it’s the complete work. I needed to say this since a lot of people didn’t understand the formatting and why I should redo it.

Once every century, it is said that the planets of the solar system align perfectly. In a perfect row, they cast upon the ultimate shadow upon one another; opening the gates to other realms far from our own. It was said that the fallen god rose from this gate and set his sights on destroying our system just like his own. But where evil went, goodness was sure to follow. Out from this gate came the Holy Maiden and her summoned knight. Together, they sealed away the fallen god and cast light back into our system. The two understood that the battle was far from over. “Catch a fish for a man, he would eat for a day. Teach the man how to fish, and he eats for a lifetime.” Despite their love for each other, the Holy Maiden and her summoned knight agreed to go on separate pilgrimages to spread their teachings. The Holy Maiden remained in our system and founded us, the Holy Order, to pass on her teachings and traditions to future Holy Maidens. Her summoned knight, on the other hand, returned into the gate and spread his words to the numerous realms behind the gate. With their sacrifice, we have prevented the fallen god’s awakening over a thousand times…​

“Ay yo… so, like… cool lore but like… pretty cringy not gonna lie. You lost me at the “aligning of the planets” bit. It went from horoscope bullshit to cliched pre-teen novels with a bit of JRPG elements in there,” a voice spoke out, breaking the breathtaking spell that weighed heavy in this beautifully painted dream.

The wind blew soft through the empty courtyard as no one said anything. In a walled-off garden stood seven bodies, each facing each other in a circle with a pond that separated each figure. Each stood on their own path that was surrounded by the water on each side but behind. A mini pier if you wish to imagine. The water was clear, yet the light was too blinding to see past the surface. All seven figures were outlined well enough to show that they were all women, yet a shadow covered their faces to remain a mystery to one another. Sitting above all this was a pink-haired woman. Her hair was braided back and looked far too youthful to be talking like an elder. Her prink eyes scanned each woman to search for the back talker, a glare like a dagger and on edge. Despite that, she kept an icy façade.

“Who cut me off? Head Nun of the Holy Order?” the pink-haired woman spoke up, looking down at the crowd of women below her.

“Uh, me.”

Slicing through the air, the Head Nun’s eyes locked onto the woman who spoke up; her hand raised slightly while maintaining the image of being smaller than what she was. Her limbs were tightly held together like a defensive turtle yet flashing a Chester cat grin as acceptance of the attention. “No offense lady but I felt like I heard this exact same plot with some gacha game I played last month. Can we just skip all this tutorial nonsense to get to the fuckin’ point already?” the woman continued, her blunt and straightforward words not matching the lowkey appearance she was trying to give off.

“Oh! You played Fate/Grand Order too? I’ve been trying to pull Gilgamesh for my team for months,” the woman on the right of the back talker chimed in. Though she was covered in shadows, the third party was animatedly clapping her hands together in excitement that she found a companion who played the same game.

“Eh, I stopped after two months. The drop rates are insane for that game and you don’t get enough of the in-game currency. I prefer Epic Seven since you actually win the gamble in summoning a strong hero-“

“Silence!”

Slamming her hand against the armrest of her chair, the Head Nun demanded all attention back onto her. The sound of flesh against marble echoing throughout this supernatural courtyard. Zeroing in out the outlier, the Head Nun sized her up before letting out a scoff. Receiving this judgmental look was a young woman of 21 years. If she never stood by herself, she might have blended in with a crowd with her rather ordinary looks. Brown hair, matching brown eyes, and a pair of glasses. Tell that description to any sketch artist and they would draw any other woman. One in five women looked exactly like her. Was that statistically correct? Of course not, but most would believe it these days.

The nun craned her neck over these seven women, peering down with arrogance. Who would have thought that the bold one in this group wasn’t the goth but this… loser. Despite not being affected by the spell, the rebel was overseen like the shadow of her chair or the trees. “Are you done speaking over me?”

“No, actually. You aren’t hurrying the fuck up and you rudely cut me off from having a pleasant and stimulating conversation from my neighbor here,” the woman said, “If you aren’t going to tell me what my horoscope is, I don’t want to hear another hour of lore.” From her side, the woman could hear the reactions from the other women who listen to this back and forth. Some ‘tsk’ from her disrespectful actions while others acted a bit shocked. Of course, some snickered at the show while one seemed to be rather disinterested. Tough crowd… To be fair, she wasn’t normally as blunt as she was today. She knew when to keep things to herself but quite frankly, this lady was going on for the last hour about prophecies and cosmic evils. This nun sounds like those writers who only focus on worldbuilding and not writing their stories.

           “Hurry up? We’re talking about the end of the world- YOUR world. This “lore” is vital. People’s lives are at stake with this information, Two,” the Head Nun said.

           “Shit, really? Then why don’t you act it? Literally… no agency. This is the part where a creative writing teacher tells you “show don’t tell”,” Two answered right back; sarcasm dripping from every syllable. She wanted to correct the hag. Her name was Mia, but she understood there was anonymity for a reason. She was tactless, not stupid. Well, Mia would argue she had some tact, but her patience ran thin for this grossly, mishandled magic society. She thought those campy young adult books with organizations ran by idiots were meant to be… you know, fiction?

It all started right when Mia got to bed. She just got home from a long shift at work and all she wanted was nothing more than lay in bed. And that she did once she took an evening shower before bed. It was normal, everyday stuff for the third-year college student. She had school tomorrow and Mia just wanted to rest her aching body. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she opened her eyes to a completely new world. Looking around, she found herself not alone. There was one other person with her face covered and the pink-haired woman as well. Mia was greeted as “Two” and was told to wait for the other five to show.

That was an hour wasted in waiting and add in the additional hour for the hefty speech, we got our recipe for an irritated Mia. She didn’t go to bed just to stand up for two hours for some fantasy bullshit. Any other time? Sure. It’s cool. But now??? WHEN SHE HAS A TEST TOMORROW?! INCONVENIENT! It killed Mia since this was pretty fucking cool and different from the norm. Everyone dreams of being picked the chosen one but, come on… this was too predictable. If you read a fantasy book or consumed any fantasy media before, then you know what’s going on.

“Rude child. This information isn’t something as trivial as a novel,” the Head Nun spoke, looking down at Mia like a haughty teacher.

“I’m gonna assume that we’re all candidates in being chosen as the new Holy Maiden. We chose our knights or whatever. Compete and whoever wins must reseal the fallen god then tada! Happy ending! Yay!” Mia said. She even raised her hand at the ‘yay’ portion of her phrase. “Listen, dude, I play too many games and read a shit ton of books for this. Can we please not do this while I’m in my pajamas?” Mia said, practically begging to be released from this mild inconvenience.

“… You guys weren’t exactly chosen. The universe brought you to us…” the Head Nun spoke, not really arguing with what Mia said. There was a cocky grin on Mia’s face as she just couldn’t help but find it funny how she got some otherworldly person tongue-tied.

“A lottery system huh… sounds about right. An NPC like me wouldn’t be chosen normally… I’m way too smart to be the main character,” Mia thought. She glances to the side for a moment before back on the show.

“Well… I’ll work with Two on this point and speed things up. Time is of the essence,” the head nun spoke, acting as if she was graciously fulfilling Mia’s wish. At this point, Mia didn’t care. Whatever helped the nun feel powerful or whatever… “As Two pointed out, all seven of you are candidates for becoming the new Holy Maiden. You will come into this realm three times a week for your lessons to strengthen your magic and during your regular days of the week, you seven will compete with one another. Your knights are the extension of your magic. When one knight trumps the other, they prove you are the strongest magic user and your defeated candidate is knocked out of the running. This continues until the last one is standing,” the nun explained, “We have hidden your faces and names from each other to keep you guys from cheating and attacking each other when you aren’t ready for combat. If you wish to fight, it’s up to you guys to discuss how to go about it.”

“A battle royal? I thought dystopian novels where kids kill each other in a game were out of fashion? I mean- they already got the Mirai Nikki vibe with the covered faces in the central hub…” Mia thought. She laughed under her breath with mild amusement at this idiotic situation. Deciding that it was best to keep her thoughts hidden now, Mia turned her focus on surveying the competition. She wasn’t sure if she was going to take this seriously, but she thought she should start hiding her thoughts on the matter now. “The Head Nun never said we couldn’t figure out each other’s identity and jump them… nor any etiquettes of battle… how curious,” she continued her train of thought as she waited for the nun to finish.

“We’ll now do the summoning ritual. One, please kneel and place your hand into the water to help your knight rise,” the Head Nun spoke. One looked around confused by the order, but she soon nervously did as she was told. She knelt and placed her hand inside. There was a good pause before One jolted. Slowly, One stood up to her feet as a tall figure rose from the water. Just like the maidens here, his face was hidden from everyone else but his master, no doubt. But his figure was very much noticeable.

“YO! Did you just summon a furry?!” Mia exclaimed before bursting out laughing. She pointed a finger at the woman next to her in a mocking fashion. While she couldn’t see the competition, Mia could at least see a pair of fuzzy dog ears on the knight’s head. But despite her words, Mia knew that, realistically, this knight was most likely a beast-man or even a werewolf. She simply didn’t want to lose this chance to taunt her competition.

“Two! Please restrain yourself and respect your fellow maidens and their knights,” the Head Nun spoke. The pink-haired woman coughing into her hand to break up the interaction. “Now, for the love of God. Please shut up, kneel, and summon your knight.”

“Damn, at least ask for my consent before forcing me on my knees,” Mia muttered before kneeling as instructed. She felt rather stupid but seeing how the first maiden got a knight, Mia decided to just trust the action. She submerged her hand in the opaque lake. It was wet alright. Yet despite being in spitting distance to the surface, Mia couldn’t see past her reflection. “Come on RNG don’t fail me now. A hot guy would do wonders for my mental health,” Mia joked, “I hope re-rolls are free.”

On the edge of non-existence and existence, a subconscious mind rose to consciousness once more. He drowns in nothingness and breaths in hopelessness.

There was no sky nor ground to define his abysmal prison. Not even a memory to keep him company.

A hand reached out from above. A hand surrounded by light and a promise of warmth. He attempted to reach for it, yet he was restricted from moving and was forced to watch another steal the opportunity from the shadow. He watched the pair of hands meet and just like that, the light was gone.

He sank deeper into the depths of this unholy waiting room.

Yet again, a hand was extended from the dark with the temptation of freedom. Cautious to reach for it after the first time, he looked around for others who wished to take it. Many came and all walked away. No one wanted to take this hand.

He attempted to take it, if only to escape but found that he was unable to pry himself free. Defeated, he decided to give up on the opportunity. It was pointless anyway.

Left unheld, the hand does not reel empty-handed. No. Instead, it curled its fingers until one finger remained up.

One big ‘fuck you’.

What the fuck? So much for an inviting presence. Who did this person think they are? It wasn’t like he didn’t try to take their hand. But seeing this middle finger dangling in front of him like a fishhook with bait, he reached for it once more to drag the hand down into the depths with him. He was tied in place but after some furious tugs, he was freed with a pop.

Taking the hand, it became evident that the one getting snatched wasn’t them but him. Curled fingers shifted forms into a vice grip around his wrist upon skin contact. The dark veil that covered him was ripped off in that instance. Lights, sounds, textures, tastes, and smells flooded his senses as he became a person once again.

Planting both feet on the ground, Mia used both hands to reel up her prey. This summoning was nothing graceful like the woman next to her. It was primal and chaotic as Mia’s partner was floundering under the water. So much for a knight in shining armor. This guy isn’t fighting any dragons anytime soon if he’s having difficulty wrestling against an inanimate substance.

Letting out a battle cry, Mia used all her strength to bring her knight to the surface and onto the pier with her. It wasn’t his entire body but enough of it was on land that it was easier to drag the rest of him out with less trouble. Mia fell backward on her butt and was slightly out of breath after that intensive ritual. Shiiiit. Carrying a body is a lot harder than it looks, kids! Don’t trust what you see on TV.

Mia was the image of ‘tired’ with her slightly flushed cheeks and skewed glasses. Fanning herself, she patiently waited for the man she pulled out to make the first move, yet he was belly-down, still as a doornail. For someone who had a lot of energy to fight against help, he suddenly became as complacent as a kitten.

Oh fuck... he isn’t dead, is he? Cause that’ll be pretty awkward ngl

Mia leaned forward to inspect what she pulled out. She lifted his pale arm to search for a pulse. It was cold to the touch and she couldn’t tell if the steady thud she felt was his or an echo of her own. Upon letting it go, it limply fell to the ground with no flinch from him. Crap. Don’t tell her that she accidentally pulled out a dead body?! Well, Mia knew that pulling trash can happen during fishing mini-games but she thought that this more of a “guarantee knight summoning” deal. Mia refused to believe that she waited five humiliating minutes waiting just to pull out a corpse. She wants a refund, god damn it!

Moving his head, Mia planned to check his pulse from his neck to double-check if he was dead. There was no resistance in the action, yet she found herself meeting a pair of responsive red eyes peeking from between snowy white hair. The two of them stared at each other for a moment as they both seemed like caught criminals in the middle of a crime. The man’s chest raised up and down as he breaths; a piece of evidence that doesn’t escape Mia’s attention. He’s…

“HE’S HOT!!!”

Scrambling to her feet, Mia put both her hands in the air and let out her victory screech to the worried silhouettes surrounding her. No, wait- she should be yelling how he was alive, not his appearance. Yet here she was, doing a victory dance on top of her knight in a pair of polka-dotted pajamas. Give her a pitchfork and a tail then you got the image of an imp dancing on a grave. “Bro! He’s so hot... Edward Cullen lookin’ ass- I mean, not like the musty looking Robert Patterson version but how you imagine he looked like based on the description,” Mia explained to anyone listening with a wildly inaccurate and vague description of the man. She waved her arms animatedly as she gossiped with her peers with the person in question crawling to his feet.

“Dude, that should be the last of your concerns,” Five said.

“I think you should make sure he’s okay…” Seven said, joining Five in expressing concern.

“Whoa there! You can’t really blame my maiden here for getting hung up on my dashing good looks. Dead or alive, you’ll notice my face first before anything else.”

Laying a heavy hand on Mia’s right shoulder, the man wrapped his arm around the woman to stand in solidarity with her. Surprised by the action, Mia tilted her head to the side to look at her knight to judge which side he was playing on. She locked eyes with him once more but not on accident this time. His touch was uncomfortable, yet she doesn’t push him away. They were a pair of souls with two different goals yet had a silent agreement to meet in the middle for the moment.

“Good to see you again, Catherine. You hardly look over two thousand years old,” Mia’s knight said, being the first to break their line of sight to look at the Head Nun. The nun sneered as the source of her stress doubled over the course of ten minutes.

“Ashley…” the Head Nun said, nearly hissing out the name. Her knuckles were turning white due to how tightly she held onto her armrest.

“Ash,” he corrected her, with an equal amount of distaste in return. Ash was smiling but he was on edge just like the Head Nun. But this rivalry was interrupted when Mia pinched Ash’s hand to catch his attention. He looked back down to receive Mia’s disapproving expression at his brief quip with the Head Nun. It seemed hypocritical that Mia was suddenly policing his attitude considering she was flaunting on the competition, but Ash clocked on what’s making her step in. “It’s okay,” Ash said, leaning down to whisper into Mia’s left ear, “This was just between me and her. No one heard me use my name. Not like it matters.”

“I’m just disappointed that you don’t have a chainsaw for an arm,” Mia whispered back, pretending she never had that concern by throwing out a seemingly random thought. Ash stared at her as if she was insane and as if to say ‘what are you talking about’ with expressions alone. “What? You never seen the Evil Dead franchise?” Mia whispered, “Not a fan of zombie movies?”

“You watched me rise from the depths, fight other knights for a living, and you’re asking me if I’ve seen a movie?” Ash said, in disbelief at her question yet finding himself amused by it at the same time.

“I take it that you don’t have Netflix in the void then.”

Watching the duo snicker and conspire with each other like a pair of high school delinquents, the Head Nun rubbed her forehead as a migraine began to surface. She was losing control once again thanks to double trouble. Even the other women who were patiently waiting began talking among each other. “Oh my god… like I thought, this was the worst combination I’ve ever seen in my lifetime…,” the Head Nun muttered to herself. She covered her face as she shook her head slowly as if she was contemplating something. “I didn’t realize it would be this bad… Out of all the times for that guy to make an appearance, he had to end up with her,” she continued muttering before ultimately lifting her head to look down at Mia and her summoned knight. The Head Nun needed to separate them. “Ah, Two? I don’t mean to disturb your… fun. But you summoned one of the more… troublesome knights considering his background. I’ll allow you to “re-roll”. How does that sound?” the Head Nun spoke, her voice sickening sweet and fake.

Mia and Ash quickly turned to look at each other for how their partner would react. They wordlessly conversed with Mia gesturing the two of them then to the Head Nun. Ash’s only reply was an uncaring shrug but ended up nervously shaking off the water that stuck to his hair to appear distracted. “Yeah… no deal, Howie Mandel,” Mia said, trailing off for a moment to gauge last-minute expressions from Ash before turning her full attention on the Head Nun. “You doing that makes me want to stick with Mr. Abominable Albino even more,” she said.

“Abominable Albino?” Ash said. He had a hand over his chest and appeared almost offending by the alliteration. He was hardly offended by being called such a thing but the fact that Mia wasted a brain cell to make an awful pun in the middle of a fantastical end-of-the-world scenario was insulting all on its own.

“Whenever some untrustworthy figure makes some inflammatory comment about one of the main leads, they’re obviously doing that to cause a divide between the leads for their own benefit,” Mia continued as she ignored Ash’s offense to her words. She waved her hand in the air as if to disperse the fog of misinformation. “You even had a mini aside moment where you muttered to the readers that there’s something more about Ash!”

“Pardon?”

The Head Nun looked completely lost as Mia’s rambling turned to the meta and spoke about invisible audience members. But just like Ash, Mia ignored her words to continue her spiel. “And even if he’s a piece of shit. Worthless. Good for nothing. Pathetic. Deadweight. Only a pretty vase-“

“Okay. I think she gets it already,” Ash said, cutting in as the terms began to pile in his heart. He squeezed Mia’s shoulder to have her move on to the point.

“I will never give him up,” Mia said.

“And... why is that?” the Head Nun asked, wringing her dress in fear that Mia figured something out that she wasn’t supposed to.

“Because he’s hot. I made that pretty clear since the beginning,” Mia said. She held her head high and mighty with not even a hint of shame. For a moment, Ash was about to feel touched by Mia coming to his defense. Touched enough that it would make him loyal to her and act as a spark to a turbulent but heartfelt young adult love story that would turn into a mildly popular trilogy with an eventual movie deal before fading into obscurity. But the curtains closed on that sparkling yet oddly specific future as Ash realized that he was stuck with the weird kid. “I mean- I guess I value him as a person too… or something. Power of belief or whatever inspirational term author’s like to use to tug on heartstrings.”

“Enough! I’m done with this game,” the Head Nun said, “Have it your way, Two. We spent far too long on this. Keep your mouth shut for the rest of the ceremony. Or else.” Giddy that she came out victorious, Mia gave a pair of thumbs up and nudged Ash to signal that their partner was now secured. Though he was satisfied knowing that he wasn’t going to return to the void anytime soon, he felt like he lost just as much as the Head Nun in this one-sided deal.

“Next summon!”

Yelling at the top of her lungs, the Head Nun expected the ritual to continue once order was returned. Yet no one followed her directions. No one followed her directions? Scanning the crowd, the Head Nun noted that the count doubled during the back and forth she shared with Mia. “Can anyone explain why you aren’t summoning?”

“Um… we- I mean, the rest of us Maidens decided to go ahead and uh. Summon our knights,” Six said. Her voice quivered in being the one to speak on behalf of the other five women. Her silhouette could be seen wringing her hands for a moment before her knight took her hands to stop the nervous tick. The new silhouette was distinctly female. “We weren’t sure when you’ll finish talking with Two. So… yeah.”

The Head Nun’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates at the revelation. The… the sacred ritual. These women not only disrespected it but treated it as some trivial business. This wasn’t the DMV. There was a natural order to this that was vital to follow. A strong sense of ‘wrongness’ flourished in her mind and the Head Nun can only trace the source to a pair. The Head Nun’s eyes focused on the second team. No, not the team but the maiden in the team.

Doing her best not to point and laugh at the nun, Mia held her mouth with one hand and the other used to tug on Ash’s soaking wet shirt. Nodding patiently, Ash was agreeing that it was a funny show, but he was doing his best to escape Mia’s grasp. These two… as the nun thought, they were a troublesome pair, yet she was limited on what she could do against them. For the most part, she was meant to be an observer. She needed time to think about what to do with these two morons.

Waving her hand, the Head Nun dismissed the group. “Leave. Since everyone received their knights, there’s no reason why I have to hold you all any longer,” she said, “You will all return within the following week for training once you familiarized yourself with your knight.” The Head Nun overlooks the teams but ended up stopping on the second team once again.

“Awesome. I love when class ends early- but you haven’t exactly shown us the exit,” Mia said. She waved her hand wildly to gestured to the enclosed garden. With a Cheshire cat grin, Mia was ready for round three of verbal war with the Head Nun, but the nun was done with the antics. Raising her hand, it appeared that the nun was going to point to an exit but instead, a large gust of wind made an appearance. With a fierce blow, Mia was blown backward and fell ungracefully into the lake with a startled scream.

A flurry of colors passed her by as she sank into the depths. Like a dream, Mia found her limbs feeling sluggish, but the feeling didn’t last long. As everything came to an end and she was left in the dark, the faint sound of her alarm could be heard. Sitting up, Mia’s first act in waking up in reality was stopping her phone’s alarm and putting on her glasses. There were no questions to be asked. Mia woke up in her home. It was obvious the moment she felt her bedsheets and heard her all too familiar alarm. By the Seaside, if any reader was interested in knowing.

“Morning, Ash,” Mia said. She let out a yawn while giving the newest member of her household a wave. Shivering in his wet outfit, Ash was standing at the foot of Mia’s bed. His arms were crossed, and he was glaring at Mia who was taking everything with stride. She let out a lazy stretch before getting up to get her partner a much-needed towel. Living in a small studio, Mia only took five steps to reach the linen closet and only one good throw to pass a fluffy white towel to Ash. He caught it with ease and made quick use of it to dry himself. “You like bagels? Coffee?” Mia asked him. She took several steps to the kitchen area to grab herself a cup of water. “Or do you not eat? You look human but god knows if you function like a human. Do you need to shit?”

“You could at least act startled with me being here,” Ash said, refusing to answer the questions. Mia was in mid-sip of her water when told this. She put a finger up to signal Ash to wait. Putting down the glass, the glass clinking on the artificial wooden counter; Mia took a deep breath before pressing her hands to her cheeks and opened her mouth wide to mimic a surprised expression.

“Omg. A hot guy in my apartment? Holy guacamole, it wasn’t just a dream. My normal life will never be the same. Aaaaaaa,” Mia said. Deadpanned and devoid of any emotion, it was a patronizing act which only annoyed Ash.

“Okay. I get it. Here I thought my worst luck was not getting enchant with the anti-water spell and waking up with gaps in my memory,” Ash said. Suddenly, Mia jumped up and yelled out ‘bingo’. Startled, Ash stared at the eccentric women before looking away in fear that her weirdness would rub off on him.

“Fucking knew it. Amnesiac or plagued by memories. It’s always one of those two,” Mia said. She was doing another strange victory dance though it quickly ended with Mia apologizing. “Uh, sorry. Sensitive topic. But if it’s any condolence, you’ll get your memories back.”

“You’re something else entirely,” Ash said. The only words that came to his mind.

“I’m just your average manic pixie dream women,” Mia said. It was a joke that Ash didn’t understand but he got an odd sense that Mia wasn’t joking. He wanted to ask her what she meant but Mia commanded the direction of the conversation as she asked him a question he couldn’t ignore.

“Pop quiz: I want to know your opinion on this competition and if you really want to fight. Personally, I don’t give a shit about this competition,” Mia asked, At first, Mia was excited at the idea of magic and multiple realms being real. Her dry and ordinary life was finally turned upside down and she had no complaints. Life was that boring and she was jealous of novel protagonists going on these adventures just to bitch and moan about how rough their life was. But the best part in all of this: her summoned was an attractive guy. What more could she ask for? But then the responsibilities Mia had to do surfaced back in her mind. Holy Maiden lessons and some sort of honor match between the summons. Truth be told, the task at hand didn’t seem too difficult. It was simply a matter of “Eh, do I feel like doing this right now?” It was one thing that the fate of the world rests on her shoulders… but it wasn’t. There was a “chance” that she was the Holy Maiden. She isn’t the Holy Maiden, just a candidate. Which meant her other competitors could be that women.

Knowing that fact, should Mia really bother? “If I lose and someone else wins, the world is saved, and we continue with our merry way. If I win, I do things “my way” and the world is saved. With this logic, I don’t need to participate. It’s a win-win situation for me,” she said, explaining her thought process to Ash. The other six women seemed capable enough to come out on top and reseal the fallen god. It isn’t rocket science but magic. Mia wasn’t really needed for it. There were no pros or cons on if she participated or not. They both have their advantages with only one con each. If she goes through and lost, then she wasted all that time she could have used to play video games. If she doesn’t go through, then she risks someone unqualified becoming the Holy Maiden. Mia didn’t even need to question if she was qualified or not because clearly, she was the best choice out of everyone. Duh.

Mia pointed at Ash. “Which brings you into the equation, Ashley. What do you want from this entire exchange?” she asked him. Mia hopped onto the counter, crossing one leg over the other. She was smiling but it didn’t match her eyes. Cold and predatory, this wasn’t the same woman who was cracking jokes or making light of the situation. It suddenly hit Ash that he doesn’t even know her name. “Are you hoping to gain back your memories? Remain in this world? I can help you with that… but is that conviction strong enough for what I want?” Mia continued her interrogation, “Maybe it’s strong enough to fight off the other knights. Carry me to victory. But is it enough to kill a fallen god? Why don’t you tell me if it’s so, Ashley.”

                                                         ∘◦ ❉ ◦∘

           At the corner of Main Street and Jefferson Avenue sits a quaint Korean café which was cutely named ‘Seoul-ful Coffee’. It was packed with a flavorful blend of elderly Asians and trendsetting youngsters trying to appear cultured in an Americanized location. Several posters covered the windows with the bright red poster that reads ‘illy’ dominating the sights. There were tacky Asian decorations, most of which aren’t strictly Korean such as drawings of anime characters on the wall or Chinese scroll art but to the common layman, they wouldn’t know there’s a difference between the cultures.

           Mia sat next to the entrance with a coffee in hand and a half-eaten cake before her. It was her fifth cup and second slice. She’s been there all day judging by the piles of finished piles of homework that were nicely stacked on the booth. The day has been going well, all things considered. She made a hefty gamble in exposing her identity to the other women in hope that they’ll consider the alliance she proposed the night before. She understood the risk both sides were putting by going against the Holy Order.

On one hand, Mia was the most dangerous competitor in this game as she already knocked out two teams while the others were still getting their shit together. Making an alliance with her only to turn out that it was a trap would only be disastrous. On the off chance that Mia was correct: that the Holy Order has been sacrificing the maidens to the fallen god to prevent his re-awakening then they need to accept her offer in working together. The strange deaths of One and Six weighed on everyone’s minds.

           Mia was concerned that the group would disregard her evidence due to fear after the first two hours of waiting produced no results. It was a smart decision to have Ash go on a walk while she was left behind as the women began stopping by to show their interest in teaming up to kill the fallen god. They exchanged information and Mia explained how to avoid being dragged into Eden to avoid the Head Nun. With three women down, there was only one woman left to step in. Ironically, it was the seventh maiden and she was the last to come as evening painted the café’s beige walls orange.

           Hearing the familiar chime of the front door opening, Mia placed down her pen as she made eye contact with the final woman. Left-handed, just as Mia initially noted when she saw the women’s silhouette for the first time. Seven was abnormally beautiful despite trying to act demure and average. She stuck out like a sore thumb in front of Mia, who was the antithesis of this woman. Messy brown hair pulled into a bun and wore a band tee, Seven came off as the sort of woman who wanted to be “the cool women”. These two women are a reflection of a self-insert Mary Sue and the average fanfic reader. How funny they’re meant to be universal puppets yet two people that no one could ever be.

           “You made it in time, Seven. I was getting worried for a minute,” Mia said, gesturing to the seat before her to offer the newcomer a spot to sit. Wordlessly, Seven took a seat and stared at Mia. It was awkward, for the lack of better terms and Mia wondered if Seven lacked any social skills. “You want anything? Coffee? Boba? They have some good matcha rolls-“ Mia said, making some small talk to get her fellow competitor to stop looking at her with a vendetta. “Can I ask for your name? You’re here for the alliance, right?”

           “No.”

           “Uh… no to the name or the alliance?”

           Mia set aside her things and clean her glasses in the chance that she’ll get dragged into a catfight. Though she wants to give Seven the benefit of the doubt, Mia got the sense that Seven was the type to see other women as the enemy. Not like Mia had any room to comment since she has been antagonizing the other women since the beginning but that was more for the sake of being a competitor. In the end, Mia much rather work with other women instead of being against them. Misogynistic women against other women was so early 2000’s.

           “No to the alliance. I want to talk about Ashely.”

           God damn it.

           God fucking damn it.

           “Ugh, are you serious? I’m trying to have this story pass the Bechdel test,” Mia said, cursing up a storm in her mind that Seven was wasting their time on something trivial. Gesturing to the door, Mia was dismissing the seventh maiden to leave. “Listen, I’m not going to police you on what you want to say about my knight but that’s between you and him,” Mia said, “He’s walking over at Clovers Park right now, okay… whatever your name is.”

           “Lily.”

           “Yeah, okay. So, Lily. Please kindly leave and talk with Ash like a pair of adults with functioning brain cells. If my name ever comes up, you can call me. But try not to drag me into this.”

           “I need to talk to you first,” Lily said, insisting on talking about the missing party who couldn’t vouch for himself. Reluctant, Mia was planning to excuse herself from the situation but realized that it was for the best she listened to what Lily had to say about him. After all, Ash was her knight and by that logic, she was responsible for whatever mess he dragged in. Placing her hands on the table, Mia nodded her head to signal for Lily to continue. “I want you to give me him.”

           What…?

           What the fuck?

           “Are you-?!  Okay. Hold on. First of all, Ash isn’t an object to be traded and secondly, this sounds like something between you and him. I’ve been saying this since the beginning,” Mia said. Her voice rosed for a moment out of annoyance, but it quickly settled when she realized that Lily wanted her to get angry for Ash’s sake. Mia placed a hand to her forehead, too many thoughts crossing her mind but the disbelief in Lily’s audacity to pull something like this when people are dying is insane. The one time she wished that her predictions were wrong. Mia recognized that Lily had a bit of a crush on Ash ever since she noticed how the seventh team always wanted to spar with them in Eden. It was clear that Lily was connected to Ash’s past, but was that a good reason to stir shit up? Thank god she warned Ash about this possibility beforehand.

“Can you think of this rationally for a moment? As I said, I don’t care if there’s something between you and him. But asking me to give him up during a vital moment like this is both stupid and highly unethical.”

           “You never really cared about ethics until now,” Lily said.

           “That’s because there are some morals that are just unrealistic and that society placed on the disenfranchised to keep them tamed,” Mia said, quick with her counter. “I still have some core values, one being to not to be a piece of shit to my fellow man when I can help it.” Mia gave Lily a disappointed look before shaking her head. She wasn’t sure what this women’s case was against her. Ever since the beginning, Lily did her best to isolate Mia from the rest of the competition. Granted, Mia deserved it for being the massive bitch throughout the contest, but she was the first to dismiss the undeniable evidence of the Holy Order officials killing Six. “I’m trying to help you, but I don’t understand what you’re playing at. Trust me when I say that having a crush on a guy isn’t a proper reason to nuke everything we’re working for.”

           “You wouldn’t understand. He’s my soulmate.”

           Mia’s eyes rolled so far into her skull that she could watch her own soul escape through the top of her head. She didn’t want to be mean, but Mia can’t deny it any longer. This bitch is stupid-stupid. Flabbergasted that Lily could say something so ridiculous with a straight face, Mia’s mouth opened and close as no words came to mind. She laughed for a split second before covering her mouth. “No!” she exclaimed, a laugh escaping her throat. Immediately, Mia shut her mouth and continued this process several times until she was finally composed. “I mean- I get it. Emotions. Crazy things they are. I get it. I’m not invalidating your strong, uh, feelings for Ash,” Mia said, “But, uh… how do I put it. I can tell your frontal lobes are currently off because of this passion. But you don’t need to worry about me in this picture. Ash? All yours. Just… I can’t exactly give him to you as how you’re asking.”

           “I’ll trade you my knight, Erik. You saw him before- I think he fits your taste,” Lily said. It was like she never heard Mia’s words. She pulled out her phone and pulled up a picture of her knight to show to Mia. Erik was the definition of a knight in shining armor with well-kept blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. He was attractive but Mia preferred the lonely-looking Ash more. Mia placed her hand on the phone and pushed it back.

           “Looks aren’t everything. It’s… look, I’ll do the trade as long as Ash expresses that he wants to do so. But I rather not since the situation right now is kinda intense,” Mia said.

           “Do you want money? I’ll pay you whatever you want- I have a blank check,” Lily continued. She pulled out a wrinkled check now and push it towards Mia to pressure her into agreeing. Troubled by Lily’s desperation, Mia was trying to find what magic words she can tell the seventh maiden to get her to back off. Noticing that this tactic didn’t work as well, Lily turned to the last thing up her sleeves. “I know how to kill the fallen god. I’ll do it. All you need to do is hand Ashley over and forfeit. That’s it. I’ll save the world.”

           Mia stared at Lily in shock at the final proposition. It seemed like she was going to accept the deal but instead, Mia slammed her fist on the table. “How can you be so selfish? Let’s say hypothetically you do know how to kill the fallen god. You willing allowed two people to die and jeopardize more lives- for what? Some passing crush?” Mia said, in awe that there was someone this egotistical. Some people called Mia a narcissist, but they never met a woman like Lily before. “Leave. I got nothing for you. This is between you and Ash, as I said since the beginning. If you two settle on something, then I give you my blessing.”

           “Do I have your word?” Lily asked. She stood up, excited by… whatever Mia just given her.

           “Yes. If Ash wants to be with you, I won’t stop this. Now go,” Mia said. She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. It was cold.

           Leaning forward, Lily brought her lips to Mia’s ear to whisper. “Don’t worry. He wants to be with me. I already talked to him. I’m just giving you a warning- as fellow sisters in arms, of course,” Lily said, her breath was strangely cold unlike the warm breath a human should have. “Try not to be jealous.”

           At those words, Lily stood up straight to savor the bitter expression on Mia’s face. Turning her head slightly to glare at Lily, Mia began grinding her teeth as she recognized the smug expression on the seventh maiden’s face. Waving goodbye, Lily skipped out of the shop to leave Mia alone with her thoughts.

           Fucking pick-me girls. It was a term that Mia didn’t want to use but it was the only thing that crossed her mind. Frustrated, Mia balled her right hand into a fist and knocked against the table impatiently. Lily talked to Ash before this? Mia got a dreaded sense that she made a mistake in not being firmer with Lily, but she wanted to believe that Ash knew better than to go with someone like her. She specifically warned him about this scenario. But Mia also told Ash that she intended to respect his decisions regardless if they were good or bad but this was really fucking bad. Ash wasn’t just her partner but also a friend to Mia. She only hoped that he valued her opinion as much as she valued his. God…

What did Lily tell him?

                                                     ✥Ash✥

           Fuck.

           Oh fuck.

           This is really fucking bad.

           Mimicking the pose of The Thinker, Ash stared straight ahead with his mind consumed by a torrent of thoughts and new information. Though he couldn’t register why, he watched several children get herded along by worrying mother to escape his field of vision. There was a look of murder in his eyes and his mind wasn’t far from that appearance. The seventh maiden’s words still echoed his now cleared mind. The fog that covered the gaps between memories was gone and all that was left was the horrifying reality of his past actions. Everything he did for Lily in his last summoning. He did it all… for love.

           Ash finally understood why Mia always said the word with such distaste. Why she said every emotion was ugly if you let it mindlessly consume you without control. He can vividly see it, the blood that was on his hands. The sounds of those women screaming as he killed them while their knights could only watch. He did it because Lily asked him to do so, justifying that they were going to die anyway. At the time, it sounded like the most reasonable thing in the world. Even now his mind was trying to tell him that he did the right thing but the disconnect between him from the past and him right now were two different people.

Lifting his head and leaning back to rest his back against the park bench, Ash allowed the sunlight that got past the leaves above to put him in a daze. Christ. What was he thinking back then? You weren’t thinking, Mia would say. He can picture her calculative words of wisdom. If it wasn’t for the fact that Mia warned him about this outcome when he decided to chase after his missing memories, this revelation would have possibly destroyed him. Consume his current identity and replace it with the past version of him. Lily must have thought the same thing when she told him what to do next after being told his past.

“Go back to Mia and tell her that you want to be my knight. She’ll approve it. I promise,” she said, “You’ll find that she isn’t fond of you. Not as much as me.”

Of course, Mia would approve of it if he were to propose this idea. Despite her teasing attitude, Mia never suppressed his opinions. Not like the soft-spoken Lily in his memory. He couldn’t believe the past him was head over heels in love with her. Lily was as forgettable as they come- a forgettable side character, as Mia liked to call them. If he didn’t know better, Ash would have assumed that these memories were false. Mia would have told him to verify that fact. And verify he did. There was no magic used nor any memory manipulation. All of this came naturally to him. But despite that fact, these memories didn’t feel organic. It didn’t feel like it matched his character.

Mia constantly reassured Ash that he was a good person despite the evidence pointing otherwise. Maybe she already guessed that he killed many people before, and she was only saying that to keep him from being unable to fulfill her goals. She was always open with what she wanted. No, that wasn’t right. He was villainizing Mia just to justify his actions. But even still, it made him break rule number one constantly as he didn’t want to reveal the memories that surface. The feelings he felt. He was scared that she’ll tell him to leave. Return to that cold, lonely abyss. But look at where it got him, getting consumed by these complicated emotions, just as Mia warned him about. Even now, he wanted to accept Lily’s deal just so that he didn’t have to… disappoint Mia. He masked one secret with others and created one big mess.

No, Ash was done with this downward spiral. Mia has been meeting him halfway ever since the beginning and he just been refusing to accept it. For what? Because of pride? Fear of rejection? Those concepts held him back. There was so much he wanted to tell Mia. Conversations he forgo and replaced with banter. The memory of his past felt like fiction while the time he shared with Mia felt real. Authentic. Fighting the other knights was all he knew yet it felt like a dream when contrasted to watching movies with Mia.

Already on his feet, Ash began walking towards the café. He spent too much time thinking when he should be talking about what just happened. This was just another tactic to get them separated. To ruin their partnership. He almost fell for it but that was why Mia created rule number one: no secrets. The distance Ash put between them was large, yet he knew Mia was waiting for him to catch up. His brisk pace turned into a run as he didn’t want her to wait any longer.

Cars, trees, buildings, and people all blurred past him as he ran to the café Mia was in. He felt stupid knowing that Mia was busy trying to stop the end of the world while he was busy feeling sorry for himself. It only made him want to come clean about everything. As the café’s iconic red poster came to view, Ash slowed his pace before ultimately stopping in front of the café’s glass door. Pulling it open with more force than needed, Ash put his desperation on display for all to see as the wind chime above the door made an ugly clang of metal hitting glass.

Sitting right where he left her, Mia barely spared him an acknowledging glance as she drank her coffee. Out of everyone in the shop who ogled Ash from his action, it was only the person he was looking for who didn’t look back. “There you are, Ashley. I was getting worried you would never come,” Mia said, taking control of the conversation as she always does. “Judging how you’re out of breath, I guess you learned something spicy.”

Turning her head, Mia presented her usual teasing grin that was a lot friendlier. No, it was always friendly, but Ash didn’t want to view it as such. With her expecting him, Ash was quick to clock on that he wasn’t the only person Lily talked to. He took several long strides so that he can stand before Mia. “Lily talked to you too,” he said. It wasn’t a question but a statement.

Mia nodded her head. “Yup,” she said, popping the ‘p’. She gestured to the sit in front of her and Ash accepted it with no hesitation. His knees brushing against hers as he slipped before Mia. “Seemed like the bitch was a lot more cunning than I thought. But luckily, I was ahead of the curve,” Mia said. She paused for a moment to pass her uneaten dessert to Ash for him to eat. Apple pie based on its cinnamon-fruity scent “Still shocking though. How do you feel?”

“Surprisingly, not that bad,” Ash said. He attempted to reject the offer but after much prodding from Mia, he took a bite. Oddly, something sweet made the bitter situation a little better. “You prep me after all.”

“That’s good. Don’t let people lead you around if they hold something above you,” she told him, “I would say to forget about this, but I know you’re in a complicated position.”

“She told you about the deal.”

“Of course.”

“Did you say no?”

Ash knew the answer to that question but even still, he hoped that Mia told Lily to fuck off. That he was her partner. Yelled at Lily in a fit of jealousy.

“You know I can’t speak for you. This is between you and her,” Mia said. Ash hung his head down in defeat. He knew how Mia was, but it still hurt hearing her diplomatic stance on the situation. “But… if you want to hear my opinion on this. I don’t think this is a good idea. To be honest, I think Lily is a toxic piece of shit and you have to be blind to go with her,” Mia said, “But it’s up to you. Maybe you know something I don’t.” Ash felt a lot better with the clarification from Mia. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about him but gave him autonomy.

“Yeah, your right. You don’t know something about this deal that doesn’t make it work. About everything that happened really. Lily probably doesn’t anticipate it either,” he said.

“Really? What is it?”

“I… kind of… like you. A lot. Romantically.”

                                                        ∘◦ ❉ ◦∘

“Ouch! Shit! Can you be a little more gentle!”

“Hwy don't yoo try bandagenng a woond in a dark fuckenng roum!”

With a flashlight in her mouth, Mia squatted next to Ash. The bright light shining on his face, forcing him to cover his surviving eye. Blood heavily seeped down from the other one. Trail of red tears oozed from the gash that was once his left eye. It made Mia sick to look at, knowing that Ash may never be able to use it again, but she didn’t want to worry the guy. They got this far, and she didn’t want him to freeze up fighting like that again. She couldn’t do much for it, let alone save it. She wrapped the bandage around his head tightly… at least she could stop the blood.

“What did you say?!” Ash said, attempting to give Mia his signature smile only to falter back in pain as she pulled the bandage into a tight knot behind his head. Mia spat out the flashlight into her hand and pointed the beam away from his face now.

“I said, Why don’t you try bandaging a wound in a dark room,” Mia said, repeating her words in frustration. She wiped the blood she got on her hands onto her pants before standing up. She turned the flashlight around to look at the other teams gathering their bearings and patching up their wounds. One of the women was crying to her knight about her broken leg while another woman watched her knight snap his shoulder back to place. The supply packs they brought were in the center of the group; ripped open with the content inside spilled on the floor during everyone’s mad rush to get their hands on some light and the first aid kit.

It was a brutal, bloody mess. But everyone survived. That was the most important thing to remember. As risky as it was, if they were to let things played out as it always had for thousands of years, they wouldn’t be here complaining about their injures. Mia wanted to believe they understood that fact. The reason why no one was making a larger scene than this.

Mia’s eyes focused on the seventh team. Lily barely had a scratch on her as she looked down at the bloody mess that was her knight. Though Mia couldn’t hear it over the mutterings of the other teams and the disgusting way the walls pulsed, she could tell that the golden-haired knight was having difficulty breathing. While Mia was mostly unharmed, even she had several cuts and bruises in dealing with the Holy Order’s monks. Mia found it odd, but her attention was pulled by Ash taking her hand.

“Did you just call the cocoon of the fallen god a dark room,” Ash said. It seemed like Ash wasn’t aware of the current mood of the room as he attempted to banter with Mia. No, that wasn’t right. He knew it quite well but he didn’t want to be consumed by the hopeless feeling that hung in the air. Mia was the same.

“Do you want to acknowledge that the floor is squirming underneath you? No, of course not. We’re in a dark room and that it. No ifs, ands, or buts,” Mia said, turn her head down to look at Ash resting on the ground. He smiled at her but it shifted to a serious expression.

“Tell me honestly. The cut is bad,” he asked her. Mia considered for a moment in lying to Ash to ease his worry but decided that it was stupid. They both knew that his eye won’t work again and he accepted that he’ll gain many more injures to come. She’ll be insulting him if she treated this as just a paper cut.

“Well, that’s the bad news,” she said. Mia looked away as she attempted to think of something nice to say about Ash’s wound.

“There’s good news?”

“Yeah. You completely rock the pirate look.”

Ash rolled his single eye before scoffing at Mia’s strange words of encouragement. He felt better hearing it though. It was nice to have someone to joke with despite the dire circumstances. While where they were wasn’t the most ideal of places, Ash wished that time stopped right here. Not because of the miserable time everyone was having but to keep the final fight at bay a little longer. The same thought plagued Mia as well though she didn’t wish for time to stop but for a chance to speak her mind.

“So, um. Ashley,” Mia said. She turned her head back to maintain eye contact with him as she talked. She squeezed his hand which Ash returned. “I know that we promise to shelf this talk for another day and kinda awful to bring up, in general, considering everything,” Mia said, “But I want to give you an answer to your confession.” Ash’s eye widen at the sudden topic being brought up. He wanted the fallen god to make an appearance right here. Right now. Just so he doesn’t have to face the dreaded answer he’d been waiting for. Ash broke out into a cold sweat but in the end, he realized that this didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if Mia rejected him or not. He still wanted to be her friend.

“Responding to a confession right before the final battle? I thought you hated cliches,” Ash said. Teasing Mia to cover up the emotional roller coaster his mind was going through. “Scared it’ll be too late?”

“Yes, actually. I don’t like leaving loose ends,” Mia said, not a hint of shame in her tone. It made Ash shut up quickly. Pushing up her glasses, she took one look to gauge what Ash was feeling at this moment before she pulled the gun. “I’m happy that you like me, but I can’t return your feelings,” she told him, “At least… not right now. I’m not like you who just feel love just like that.” Mia snapped her finger. “It takes time for me to create a connection of that level. Maybe one day I might fall in love with you but right now, you’re my friend,” she said, “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I don’t want to leave our relationship at this. I hope you can understand.”

Ash saw this answer coming. He saw it miles away the moment Mia warned him about developing feelings for her. He thought that it was all bullshit. That someone hurt her in the past or she was playing hard to get. But after spending some time with her, Ash realized that she was a complex individual and grappling with difficult concepts he couldn’t begin to understand. Ash barely even understood himself at times. Mia was the one person who seemed to have everything together, it was one of the reasons why he came to love her. But there was some baggage that he didn’t know how to help carry. At least not yet.

“Yeah. I understand. Whatever happens, at least we’re still friends,” Ash said. Though the rejection hurts, he couldn’t say that he was sad. Relieved if anything but, more importantly, determine to walk out of this alive with Mia. Finally letting go of Mia’s hand, he raised his arms to stretch before settling back down again. The air between them was awkward, at least for Ash forcing him to change the topic first. “Why the sudden serious talk? You’ve been saying this since the beginning. We’re going to win and make it out alive. Unless a new premonition came to you.”

“I told you. They’re not premonitions. I use logic and reason to come up with my predictions. That said, my prediction still stands. We’ll win and you-“

The words that Mia wasn’t able to finish were trapped in her throat as the room began rumbling and shaking. Several people screamed at the unnatural earthquake and Mia wasn’t sure if she was among the women who screamed. Ash quickly got to his feet and got ahold of Mia to keep her from falling. With shaky hands, Mia pointed the flashlight deeper into the cocoon. The darkness of it swallowed the beam whole but the light managed to reveal something slithering in the dark for a split moment.

“Is that… a worm?” Ash asked.

“No… it’s a giant snake,” Mia said, her eyes glued on where she last saw its tail. She almost missed it, but the snake’s red eyes reflected the light when her hand jerked right. In all of its scaly glory, Mia’s eyes trailed up its body as the last of the tremors stopped. The diamond-shaped head reared back and ready to strike. Though Mia knew better considering she was standing among a group, it appeared that the snake was looking right at her. Her blood went cold at the thought, but she didn’t let it paralyze her. The moment Mia found her voice, she was shouting out orders.

“Maidens! Remember the plan! Stay back and take the critically injured with us! We’ll maintain support from behind while the knights fight,” Mia yelled. She moved his arm away so she could move though she gave him an encouraging pat as he moved up to the front to fight with the other knights. Jogging up to the maiden who broke her leg, she signaled to the third maiden to help carry her back. The knight seemed worried to leave behind his maiden in this state but after a reassuring nod from Mia, he went to go join the line.

Wrapping her arm around the woman’s waist while the third maiden help from the other side, they quickly carried her away from the designated fighting area. “Keep your lights on the thing! It’s huge and fast!” she yelled, reminding the other maiden to keep her flashlight on the battlefield as they retreated. Gently placing the girl down, Mia quickly untangled herself to turn back around. The fight was underway as Ash and two other knights fought what everyone assumed to be the fallen god. The seventh knight, Erik was hobbling over to the battle. He wasn’t in any condition to fight as he had to use his lance to hold himself up, slipping down and ultimately collapsing.

Mia found it strange that he was attempting to push himself like this despite his injures. She was about to call him to hang back with her group when Mia counted one missing party. Lily! She looked left and right for the stupid girl but was quick to realize that her knight was most likely attempting to walk towards her. Tilting her flashlight down, Mia discovered Lily slowly walking up to the fallen god with her arms opened wide as if she was offering herself. Making a frantic gesture to the other three women, Mia broke out into a dash to grab Lily. Sure, she hated her guts but that doesn’t mean she wanted her to kill herself because of delusions of grandeur. “What the hell are you doing!”

Shaking off the three knights from its body, the snake snapped its head forward to strike the offered woman, but she was pushed out of the way by Mia who made it just in time. Unable to scream as the pain from the bite exploded in her head, Mia let out a grunt while seeing stars. The flashlight in her hands clattered to the ground. It felt like the snake intended to eat her as it attempted to pull Mia away from everyone, but Ash dug his sword into its side cause the snake to let go and return to the battle.

“Are you okay?!” Ash yelled, getting flailed around by the snake as it tried to shake Ash off. Holding her side, Mia looked at the damage left behind. Mia can only describe the chemical reaction her blood was experiencing was mind-numbing. Her blood turned viscous, making it hard for her to move. The only thing keeping her from bleeding out her guts at this very moment was one of the snake’s teeth left behind during its quick retreat.

This was very much, not okay.

“Yeah! I’m fine!” Mia yelled back. She turned her body away from the fight to keep Ash from seeing it. If he saw the state that she was in now, all this effort would be for naught as Ash would end up choosing her instead of the world. Letting out a groan, she held her side. Mia wanted to sit but knew that she couldn’t give anything away that would cause Ash’s worry.

“Tsk tsk. Someone broke rule number one,” Lily said, teasing Mia. The woman walked around her, smacking the tooth buried in Mia’s side as she moved to stand before her. Mia’s legs buckled for a moment, but she stood firm as ever. Lily frowned at the lack of weakness from Mia but she was soon smiling once again. “You better keep that in if you don’t want to bleed out! Oh but… the fallen god’s venom is poisonous too. So maybe it’s better for you to pull it out.”

“Why… are you like this? I don’t see how you fit in this equation,” Mia said, letting out a groan. “You’re normal based on my research. No connections to the Holy Order or the fallen god. If you’re angry at how I treated you, then I’m sorry. But don’t drag others into this.”

“Even when you apologize, you’re still disgustingly prideful,” Lily said, “I just simply hate you. For taking away everything that is mine. I will fix everything you ruined.”

Mia stared at Lily bewildered by what her rival meant. The girl was insane but was she that insane to risk the universe? Glancing back to the battle, the three knights should have taken the fallen god by now based on their collective strengths, but the snake still fought as if they never injured it. No! It was healing or rather… being healed. While Mia didn’t have verifiable evidence that Lily had something to do with that, she knew that there was no such thing as coincidence in this world. The woman’s strange actions solidified it and if not, then she was nothing more than a health hazard to everyone involved.

“You know. You really underestimate me,” Mia said. Her hand got a tight grip around the exposed part of the tooth at her side. “Just because I want to do the right thing doesn’t make me a good person,” she told Lily, “Even if it means taking unethical actions, I’m willing to make the hard decisions if it means it justified the ending.” Ripping the tooth out from her side, Mia felt the adrenaline pumping through her as she knew what to do.

And it seemed like Lily knew what Mia was thinking as well.

The woman attempted to flee from Mia, but she was quick to hold onto Lily’s sweater to hold her in place. The two of them struggled with Lily screaming for help. Mia gave Lily some shallow cuts before forcing her entire weight onto the woman and they both fell. Lily repeatedly hit Mia’s side to her to fall off, but Mia was far too focus to feel it. Raising the tooth high, she jammed it into Lily’s throat, digging it deeper until she stopped moving. Mia pushed the tooth one more time to make sure Lily was dead before rolling off onto her back. The deed was done and Mia couldn’t feel her hands anymore.

Her head was light, but Mia managed to focus more on the fight and less on the injury. Based on the sounds, the knights’ attacks were finally leaving behind some damage. It worked. Lily was oddly the key to this entire show. Mia wanted to make a horcrux joke but it was hard to stay awake let alone think of something clever. Thankfully, she didn’t need to be left alone with her thoughts as the room shook once more as the body of the snake collapsed mere inches away from Mia; crushing Lily’s body right next to her. Mia could hear Ash yelling for her in the background, but Mia couldn’t help but look at the close encounter with a god. She placed her hand on its cool scales and felt it take shallow breaths.

“You’re dying too,” she told it.

“Mia! Oh god, Mia!”

Dragging her away from the body of a god, Ash’s face hovered over her head as he forced her to look at him. He pressed his hand against her side to stop the bleeding, but it was already too late. Ash’s already pale face looked like a sheet of paper as he began desperately yelling for someone to help. Did Mia look that bad? She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Would you look at that, Ashley? All my predictions came true,” Mia said, “I predicted you’ll fall in love with me. I predicted that you’re a big drama queen. And I predicted that we’ll win, and you’ll survive. Aren’t I something?”

“Yeah, something else for making jokes right now,” Ash said. He began unraveling the bandages from his eye so that he could use them on Mia, but she placed her hand on his thigh to stop him.

“Don’t do that. I won’t be able to use it,” she said. She let out a dry wheeze as she found it hard to hold on to this life. “I need you to take every out of here. Though the seventh knight looks like he’s dead, he’s still alive. Passed out.”

“But, what about you?” Ash argued. He gently shook Mia’s shoulder as, for just a moment, she closed her eyes. Fear struck him as he thought that she was dead but Mia opened her eyes.

“I already did my mission. I have no regrets,” she said. Mia took several shallow breaths before continuing her train of thought. “You promise to follow seven rules if you want to be my partner. What was the seventh rule again?”

Ash didn’t want to answer her. He placed one arm under her knees and the other behind her back to carry her, but Mia pushed his face away. “What was the rule?” she asked him.

“If… if it looks like you’re going to die but we’re close to completing our goal then leave it be. You will manage somehow. And if you die, then you die satisfied,” Ash said, his face grim as the rule he agreed to wholeheartedly now weighed heavily on his tongue He felt sick. Another one of her predictions proven right. “I really wish you were wrong most of the time.”

“It’s all a number game, baby!” Mia said before letting out a series of coughs in expelling the last of her energy in a cheer. Ash tighten his hold around Mia before pulling her closer onto his lap. Mia smiled at him before leaning her head on his chest. “It’s okay, Ashley. We’ll meet again someday,” she told him.

“Is that a prediction?”

“No. A promise. It’s up to you if you want to make it true.”

“You’re a piece of work for making a promise that I have to keep,” Ash said. He laughed but there was hardly any humor in it. There was a long pause as neither of them had anything to say. Shifting Mia in his arm, Ash finally came up with what he wanted to tell Mia before she goes.

“Can I make a promise to you too?”

But Mia was already long gone without a single good-bye.

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good 10/18

not my gif just the text (Feels Like Home)

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a   Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9]

--

“I snuck out some tea from the kitchens.”

Kate left two teacups and a teapot on a small table in a corner of the first floor of the library.

Corentin raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not my first time.” She sat down in front of him with a small smile and nodded, letting Corentin serve the tea.

“Well... how’s life as a librarian?”

“Busier than it might seem. I’m constantly learning. So, I hear you’re a teacher now.”

Kate wrinkled her nose and took a sip of her drink.

“Attempt to be... with poor results. Let’s change the subject, I need to think about something else. Tell me about yourself.”

Corentin drank from his cup and looked up, pretending to think.

“Let’s see, I have a sister, Arlette, who lives in Lyon. She is an artist. That painting over there is hers.”

Kate turned and twisted her neck to see the painting hanging on the wall. It was a tree among mountains of snowy peaks with long branches that, instead of leaves, hung tiny books that opened and closed.

“The landscape changes with the seasons and the books come and go from the canvas according to the flow of the library books.

“Your sister is a genius.” She commented, admiring the painting.

“I will make sure she never hears that; we must not feed her ego.”

Amidst her laughter, Kate gasped and Corentin silently admonished her for being too loud.

She reached inside the cape and took out the copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

“At last. Something more suitable for your age next time, perhaps?

“It took me a long time, I know, I didn’t have time. But I think I’ve understood. You told me that the key to Grindelwald’s power was in this book. And one of the stories caught my attention.”

“Well?”

“The fountain of fair fortune. Three witches and a knight are chosen to make a wish to the fountain of good fortune. On the way, they encounter different challenges. They must deliver three things: the proof of their pain, the fruit of their efforts, and the treasure of their past.

The librarian patiently drank his tea while Kate spoke.

“Leaving aside the moral, if that fountain were to come into existence, did Grindelwald manage to find it to ask for power? And the experiments he was doing here in Durmstrang, were those sacrifices?”

Kate stared at Corentin, excited by her reasoning and waiting for his approval.

“I like the way your mind works, but you’ve got the wrong tale.” Kate deflated and finished what was left of her tea in the cup.

Corentin raised an arm and a scroll and a quill flew at them. With graceful fingers, he drew a circle on the paper.

“The resurrection stone.” With three lines, he wrapped the circle. “The cloak of invisibility.” And finally, a single straight line crossed both figures. “The Elder Wand. They are called: the Deathly Hallows.”

Kate’s brow jumped to her hairline thinking about the column in the courtyard, but then she looked at Corentin in confusion. “Do they exist?”

“You were willing to believe that there was a fountain that grants wishes, weren’t you?” Kate shrugged her head in agreement.

“I know that Gellert believed in them and that he spent the time here in Durmstrang looking for them. And I have the impression that, some time later, he found at least one.”

“The older brother’s wand.” Corentin nodded.

“The mark on that column has nothing to do with him. People began to associate him with it, and he never denied it.”

She sighed and looked up at the centre of the tower where the enormous chandelier hanging high in the air sparkled.

“Williams. You must understand that if you tell this to anyone, you will look like a fool. No one believes that they exist because they have never been found.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

“Because you asked me and I’m telling you what I believe.”

They continued to drink tea in pleasant silence while Kate thought about the importance of this new information.

Nothing that Corentin was telling her served her well in her mission and, although it was true that curiosity got the better of her, the whole thing was a dead end.

Just before she was about to return the tea set to the kitchens,  Corentin stopped her.

“I don’t know if you know this already, but there’s a greenhouse behind the castle.” Kate’s eyes rounded. “Flavia wasn’t using it, but you might be interested.”

“Corentin, you don’t know how happy you’ve just made me now.”

“And Kate... do you want another piece of advice?" She nodded, "be the teacher you wish you had.”

 --

A greenhouse. A greenhouse that no one had told her about. It was a mistake on her part not to have insisted on it.

This was exactly what she needed: having something to put a little green in her life, to feel the earth in her hands, to water flowers and to see them grow.

After sneaking back into the kitchens to return the teapot, she went to the place Corentin had indicated to her right by the lake.

It was quite far from the castle and it was abandoned, Professor Hodges didn’t use it for her classes, and that showed in the students’ knowledge.

With a look full of hope, she ventured inside the building.

She walked through the rubble, full of broken pots and dry leaves. The plants that were there were dead except for the ivy that had worked its way through the broken glass on the roof.

“I must cut that down.” She muttered to herself.

She ran her hand over the wooden table. It was in good condition, not a single splinter, and the varnish was practically intact. It was big enough to teach all the children at once.

She inspected every cabinet and drawer, taking inventory of the material and equipment she had. She could give a decent lesson with those instruments and was looking forward to that.

She looked around once more and, filled with joy, she was soon trying to put on one overall she found over the dress. Luckily, it was loose enough.

After making a bun with a rubber band, she armed herself with a pair of pruning shears and a ladder and climbed up to the glass roof to get rid of the ivy which covered the inside of the building.

The hours passed, and the morning turned into evening faster than she would have wished. For the first time since she had been at Durmstrang, she felt at home.

From the top of the dome and with her wand between her teeth, she admired the colours of the sky. It looked like a freshly painted canvas, one of Badeea’s paintings.

She was mesmerised for a few minutes, during which she began to feel the effects of a whole day’s hard work. She massaged her thighs and threw away the last branch of ivy she had in her hand before going back down into the greenhouse.

She picked up her wand and with a wave of the hand all the crushed glass on the floor flew to their rightful place, recomposing the roof and walls.

The broom that she had bewitched a few hours ago rested beside the mountain of leaves and dust that waited to be picked up by the door.

Kate looked at her work with satisfaction, and though it might have taken much less time to restore the building completely with magic, the manual labour also restored her spirit and soul.

She circled the centre table and headed for the flowerpots in the closet at the end of the room.

She decided that removing weeds and changing the soil was part of the experience of learning herbology, so she just removed the dust and cobwebs to save her students some work.

Her students. It was a curious phrase. She had never seen herself as a teacher. It was Rowan who did that work, not her. After seeing the essays that they had done, she had no hope of improving her teaching skills until that point.

The opportunity to be able to interact with the plants they had been studying would perhaps make them all less miserable and might even get them to learn something. Getting them to be interested in the subject was going to be a more laborious task.

Charlie would be a brilliant teacher, with that infinite patience he has, she thought.

A wave of melancholy washed over her unexpectedly.

Oh, how she missed him. It was usual to go for an entire day without seeing each other, or speaking, each one busy with their respective work, but both knew that the time would come to meet for dinner and share their day amidst laughter and kisses.

Now that was impossible.

As she let her mind torture her, she had not realised that she had begun to stir the soil with her fingers and that in turn, all those thoughts were channelled into the pot, making a small orange flower grow. She was startled to feel the warmth of magic in her fingers reaching the flower.

Her eyes suddenly blurred, and without being able to avoid it, one tear after another ran down her cheeks and made their way down her throat.

She sniffled and then grunted, feeling stupid. She wiped her tears with her sleeve and with a sad smile, picked up the flower that had reminded her of Charlie to keep it between the pages of her journal.

Just as she was picking up her coat to leave, the door to the greenhouse opened.

Too early for the moon to appear, the light coming from the castle was not strong enough to identify the figure that had just entered, so she approached the table with a quick ‘Lumos’.

“Professor Angelov!”

The secretive transfigurations teacher was startled to hear his name. It was clear he didn’t expect to find anyone there.

“What happened here?” he sounded strangely offended, even though Kate had done in one day the work that should have been done in months.

“I repaired the building. I plan to use it for my classes,” she hesitated to criticise Durmstrang’s teaching system to a professor, but her mouth went ahead of her brain and she wasn’t quick enough to stop it. “as it should have been done.”

Angry eyes shone in the light of her wand.

Kate put aside the reason for Leron’s visit to the greenhouse and focused on deciphering his anger. Even her legilimens skills couldn’t figure out its origin. She could only pick up confusion and... fear?

Angelov did not bother to say another word to her and with a movement of his cloak, which reminded Kate of her former potions teacher, he strode out into the night.

--

The next day, Kate decided to put to good use the new and improved greenhouse and took her students through the grounds of Durmstrang.

“I think you’re going to love this. Well, at least I’m excited.”

She waved her wand to keep all fifteen books in the air as she walked down the path to her students.

There was a lot of grunting and snorting when Kate told them they would not be in the classroom that day, but she was convinced that a little natural light and playing with dirt would change their mood.

“We’re almost there. I know you were bored the other day, and so was I, so...”

Kate stopped in front of the glass building and showed it off with her arm outstretched.

Several students exchanged glances, others stared at her, waiting for instructions.

“Well? What do you think?”

“Are we going to have a class here?” asked one girl.

“Indeed, Dana, we’ll do three hours a week here: one on Wednesday and two on Friday, what do you think?”

“That this place is dangerous.” Said Jon Hopkins.

“Ah, but that’s not true anymore. Come on, let’s go inside.” The sparkle in her eyes went unnoticed by the students who, skeptical of the change of scenery, entered behind her.

Kate surrounded the long central table where she left her books and headed for the end of the room. She waited for everyone to finish looking around and pile in with her.

“Lesson number one: safety. In that cupboard over there there are overalls for everyone, I’ve washed them, of course, so take one all and put it on over your uniform. There are also protective gloves. Take a pair too.”

Michael Angelov went to the table and took out a scroll to write something down. One of his companions looked at his writing and began to laugh.

“Are you going to write down everything she says?” The others laughed with him.

“Who knows, it might be an exam question. I recommend that you do the same. Memory can be treacherous.”

As they reluctantly left their bags and backpacks, the speech continued.

“You are responsible for your new work clothes. We will use potions, spells and dangerous plants, the suit will protect you and it is vital that you wear it. If someone is not wearing the suit, they cannot enter; if someone is not wearing gloves, they cannot enter and I will be very strict about this”.

She indicated that they should sit around the table, each on a stool.

“Lesson number two: know what materials are available. In the drawer in front of your seat there are: a small shovel, tweezers, garden shears, a spray and a brush”.

She left a moment for everyone to rummage through their drawers and continued.

“You are also responsible for the material. Before and after a class everyone should check that they have everything and put them in the drawer. I want you to write down the date and the list of your material.”

Everyone was silent, clearly confused about what they were doing. Kate went around the table, giving some directions and helping those who seemed to need it.

“Lesson number three: know what you are going to do.” As she waved her wand, the books placed on the table flew to each student.

“Today we’ll focus on the first part of Lesson Five: recognising soil types. This was part of the last test, and it’s clear that I didn’t prepare you enough for it. It’s important that you know how to do this because it’s fundamental. Make a note of the purpose of this practical class. I would have liked to do this earlier, but... that’s the way it is.”

As the children opened their books and whispered to each other, Kate handed out a tray with three small pots of different types of soil. Each with a label with a letter: A, B and C.

“Try to identify the three pots with the help of the book.” She said when she finished.

“Ah!” a little girl, Greta Eberhardt exclaimed. “There’s something in my pot!”

“It’s called earth, silly.” Replied her partner.

Kate came over to inspect Greta’s tray. Something bright blue was buried. She took one of the tweezers from the table and pulled it out.

“It’s a billywig. See the wings coming out of its head? Don’t worry; it’s dead.”

Not only did the wings catch the children’s attention but also the long, pointed sting of the torso.

She stared at the insect for a long time and looked up when it became silent in the greenhouse. Such discipline cannot be healthy, she thought, as she saw them reading or sticking their fingers in the pots without looking up.

“How quiet you are... I never said that you cannot work as a team.”

--

That evening Kate sat in her room drowned in pieces of parchment, both her students’ work and her notes from her mission.

She returned her attention to Vivien Argar, the name that was written on top of the paper, and sighed when she noticed that her assignment was two parchments longer than it should have been.

Kate put her quill down and pinched her nose, her thoughts returning to the Order. She considered Kent Jorgensen and wondered what kind of business he had going on with Leron Angelov.

Perhaps she was jumping to conclusions, letting her suspicions cloud the logic, but she could have sworn that they left the Great Hall together when Astrid Rhode was giving her speech. She never confirmed it.

Several taps on a glass caught her attention. 

A red bird was standing outside the window and demanded to enter the room.

“Fawkes?” She hurried to the window and opened it, allowing the phoenix to enter. He circled her and screeched while she closed the window again.

“I know, I know! How demanding…” Kate grabbed a blank piece of parchment off the floor, made a ball with it and set it on fire before conjuring it to be suspended in the air at ground level.

Fawkes cuddled up near it and let out a grateful tweet. 

“What do you have in there?” She said, noticing the roll of paper that Fawkes guarded in his claws. She tried to grab it but Fawkes hid it between his feathers, opened his beak and stayed that way for a while.

Kate rolled her eyes and walked to the closet to look for the small bowl where she kept a roll of spellotape and some quill tips.

She emptied it and conjured some water before bringing it to an impatient Fawkes. He lowered his head in a small reverence and extended his open claw for Kate to inspect.

“Always want something in return, huh? It is true that pets are like their masters…” Fawkes huffed and sipped from his water, ignoring her.

She unrolled the tube to find two pieces of parchment. The first one had a short sentence.

 Trust him in the woods.

 “Great. I didn’t have enough with what I had.” she complained out loud.

She unrolled the second paper, but to her disappointment it was blank.

She left the parchments on the bed and sat down at her desk again, trying to resume her work, but Fawkes got up and flew to her shoulder. He bit a strand of her hair and tugged.

“I don’t have anything for you to eat, Fawkes.” The phoenix ignored her comment and kept on pulling at her hair until she turned around. 

“Alright, that’s quite enough!” Fawkes flew to the bed and stood on the blank parchment, tapping it several times with his beak.

Kate took a deep breath before approaching the bird.

She grabbed her wand and pointed at the paper before murmuring ‘Revelio’.

 A black line started to appear, drawing an uneven path that rounded the parchment and ended in the same spot that started. A cross appeared in the upper corner of the deformed oval. It wasn’t a circle or any geometrical figure; it looked like…

“A map.” she whispered. The question was, a map of what? The figure consisted in a single contorted line. There was nothing inside of it, just a cross. She turned around again and winced at the sight of her desk. With a flick of the wrist, all the pieces of parchment of the table flew around to settle down in tidy piles on one side of the desk.

She let herself fall backwards onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

With only one candle flickering in the room, the darkened atmosphere made her want to close her eyes, and she did, letting her exhaustion take over her.

--

[Part 11]

Tag List: @eldritchscreech @meteora-fc @cazreadsstuff

[yeollieayheehoo]

Jigsaw Puzzle

Summary: The two of you were made to fit together

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (female)

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst 

Rating:  PG 

Warnings: minor mention of alcohol use

Word Count: 2.8K

This really isn’t your scene.

You adore your friends, how they make sure to invite you to things, even if they know you’ll more than likely turn down the offer. Which is probably why they just said it would be asleep over tonight and failed to mention the major rager they had planned.

It’s not that you’re straight edge or anything like that. In all honesty, it’s just that you’re too shy, too socially awkward, find your personality too quiet in the midst of the Olympian sized ones in the other room.

So instead, you snuck away, curled up on the twin side top bunk of your friends’ younger sisters’ room. It’s quiet, or well, as quiet as it could be with the music phasing through the walls like a ghost. You know that your friend has chosen to play Primary in an attempt to lull you out of your hiding hold, but you cannot bring yourself out of the safety you’ve found in the covers.

You know the majority of everyone outside of this room, see them on campus and in class. They call you a part of their group, make sure to include you in everything they can, to purposely ask you things so you never feel excluded. Especially Chanyeol.

He asks you questions the most, wide eyes always on your face as you spoke, like he was memorizing your entire being. Maybe it was because it took him an entire semester to learn your name.

The day he finally said your name without having to ask first was the day you realized you were undeniably in love with him. It was the day you realized that somewhere between asking you questions and bringing your hands to his mouth to warm them when you complained of being cold, between they way he would pull your earbuds out of your ears to replace them with his own anytime he wanted to share a song with you and the way his face lights up when he sees you, that you know you’ve fallen for him.

You know he’s out there, can hear the bass of his laughter over the bass of the music, perhaps because your ears are attuned to it. You can almost see him, black snapback with some vape company he doesn’t even know on it, ears sticking out, smile the brightest thing in the room. You know he’s making rounds, secret handshakes being exchanged, hugs distributed, inside jokes shared. It makes you sigh in disappointment for yourself.

You know that if you were to join the party, they would welcome you fondly, would pull you into hugs of your own, know someone would pull you along with them so you were never alone, know they would go out of their way to keep you included.

Because they understand.

They understand your anxiety, your social uneasiness. They take it in stride and work hard to make sure you knew you were wanted, to make sure you knew you were their friend.

And you couldn’t even join the party.

You sigh again, burying yourself in the covers, trying to make yourself less of a mouse.

You don’t know how long you stay like this, trying to will a dandelion into a tree, but when you hear the door open you freeze.

“C’mon kid. Let’s get you in bed.”

“Yeol, I may have overdone it.”

“You think so?” Chanyeols voice is teasing as he helps Sehun into the bed below you. “But lucky for you, I’m partied out, so I’m on Hunnie duty.”

There’s no response from Sehun and you know from the soft snores below you that he’s passed out. You can hear Chanyeol sigh, a soft sound before you hear movement, what sounds like jeans against carpet. You’re careful to stay silent as you peak over the guard rail to find him stretched out on the floor, elbow over his eyes.

You know from experience that the carpet is uncomfortable and the floor unforgiving. You close your eyes and muster up every ounce of courage you’ve been channeling all night.

“There’s room up here, if you don’t want to sleep on the floor?”

“Y/N? I didn’t know you were here.”

“Ah, yeah. I didn’t know there was going to be a party. I was just told it was a sleep over. I probably wouldn’t have come if I had known.”

“You could have stayed with me out there, you know I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“I know, but you know how I am. Can’t make a soloist out of a background singer.”

“You sound like Professor Harris.”

“Ah yeah, I got it from her. It’s what she told me.”

“Wait, I thought you were an English major?” It’s at this that he moves his arm, leaning on the elbow instead, looking up at you.

“Oh, I am. But I was a music major first semester.”

“Why did you switch?”

“Because of that.”

The conversation falls silent at this. The music has stopped in the living room and you aren’t sure if it’s because the party has ended or if everyone has passed out. You’re chewing your bottom lip, trying to figure out what else to say when Chanyeols face appears beside you.

“It doesn’t look like there’s a lot of room up here.”

“Oh, uh, here.” You scoot to the other side of the bed, showing him the space left. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just didn’t want you to sleep on the floor. It’s up to you.”

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make yourself small.” He tilts his head at you and you know your face is red. You shrug, unable to form words. It’s the first time someone has ever asked you that and you aren’t sure how to say you were taught to be neither seen nor heard.

“Let me empty my pockets.” He moves back and you can hear his wallet and keys against the dresser. “Is it going to bother you if I take my jeans off?”

“Not if it won’t bother you that mine are.” He grins and looks at you, something you don’t recognize painting his features. “That was funny.”

“Thanks. I channeled my inner you.” You can’t help but giggle as Chanyeol climbs the ladder. He’s’ only on the second rung and his head is already touching the ceiling. “How the hell did you get up here?”

“There wasn’t anyone else up here when I was trying.” Chanyeol huffs, and ducks as he climbs one more rung before slinging his leg over the guard rail and rolling into the bed beside you. You cover your mouth to keep from laughing any louder when Sehun moves below you. You think you’ve woken him until his snores resume.

“So, I’m up here. What should we do?” He’s on side, head propped up on his elbow as he looks at you.

“I really only called you up here so I could sacrifice you to the moon.”

“Sorry, the moon and I aren’t on the best of terms right now, but I’ll accept Satan.”

You hum to yourself in fake deliberation. “You’re too pretty to go to Satan.”

“Did you just call me pretty?”

“I did.”

“I’m flattered.”

“So how did you know about professor Harris?”

“I had her for a music elective.”

“Aren’t you a business major?”  You shift in the bed, turning on your side as well to face him.

“Yeah, it was required.” He shrugs.

“What kind of business?”

“Jongin and I have had a dream to open a record studio since we were freshmen in high school. I want to produce, but I don’t really need to go to school for something I’m already good at.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to produce.”

“That’s because I’m always asking you questions about yourself. Speaking of, why an English major?”

“I want to write. I’ve been told I have a way with words.”

Chanyeol grins and you know what’s going to come out of his mouth before he even says it. “You don’t talk much though.”

“I do too. I’m just not great with crowds.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem talking to me.”

“It’s cause you’re pretty.” You grin and bat your eyelashes.

“Lucky me then.”

It’s easy to talk to you like this Chanyeol finds. Outside of crowds, you transform into another person, one who’s all smiles, words and unhindered thoughts and Chanyeol finds himself getting lost in them easily. His eyes are on your lips as you speak, enthralled by the way they form syllables, hypnotized by the spell they unknowingly cast upon him.

It’s addicting, listening to you talk like this. Chanyeol can see the notes of your voice as they touch his ears, the soft scales climbing and falling down the lines on the music staff and he finds himself composing a song of it.

He grins at the realization, that it’s you. You’re addicting.

“Yeol? Are you okay?”

“What song is on your mind right now?”

“Nineteen by Tegan and Sara.” It says more than you know. It tells him things words cannot say, tells him things about you that you cannot bring yourself to vocalize. He can feel his heartbeat quicken and he chews on his inner cheek as he tries to subdue it, as he tries to figure out if you know that he has a playlist with your name on it, that song appearing twice. He wonders if you listen to it the same way he does, your face painted over the lyrics, senses drowned in you although you are no where near.

“What about you?”

“Are You Gonna Be My Girl.”

It’s the question that’s been on his mind for a while now. He wonders if you know that he asks you everything he can think of because your voice calls to him like a siren song, wonders if you know that he waits for you to say you’re cold so he can glue himself to your side because the coconut smell of your shampoo is intoxicating, wonders if you know that he always shows you new songs because your face interprets the lyrics along with your mind and it’s the closest thing he can get to reading your mind.

He wonders if you know that he pretended not to know your name for an entire semester because he was falling in love with the way that you said it.

You’re sure your heart is going to beat out of your chest. You know he’s naming a song, but the way the words fall from his lips turns the atmosphere in the room into a fragile thing and you’re terrified to open your mouth, too terrified to break the bubble the two of you have created for yourself.

Instead, you turn away from him, rolling over to face the wall, arm tucked under your shared pillow, eyes blinking back tears that threaten to fall as you realize you’re reading too much into his answer, the way you always do. Because truthfully, why would he ask you that?

He is Helios, his smile the sun. He is a warmth you do not think you deserve yet find yourself a glutton for. He is all laughs and words, wide smiles and crescent eyes. You find yourself wondering if he knows of the gravitational pull he has on everyone around him, or if he is simply floating through space, unaware of the beauty that is his entire being.

If this were a movie, you’d admit to your friends that you are not his type, middle too round, thighs too large and existence too small to be his because your friends would not be his friends. But this isn’t a movie, and your friends are mutual, and there is not a day that goes by that you do not see him, the small voice in the back of your head bringing you down as you try to stand in the light that he casts.

 He shifts next to you and you prepare yourself for the loss of his warmth as you assume he is leaving, and instead freeze as the pillow moves, his right arm curled around yours, fingers tracing small patterns on the back of your hand. His left drapes over your waist and you stop breathing as goosebumps raise along the soft flesh of your stomach at someone else’s touch.

Chanyeol can feel you freeze under his touch but he doesn’t stop, left hand traveling north as it searches for your own, fingers finding purchase in your wrist as he pulls it from under your chin, tangling his fingers with yours. He can feel your pulse in the tips as he lets your joined hands rest on your hip. He is unapologetic as he scoots closer to you, shifting to nuzzle his nose at the nape of your neck, one leg tucked between yours and he wonders if you can feel the way his heart races too.

He knows your mind, knows your fight or flight response is kicked into over drive as your pulse pounds from every inch of your body. It doesn’t take long for yours to sync, hearts beating as one as the atmosphere turns heavy with words neither of you dare to say. So instead he does the only thing he knows to do without ruining the conversation your bodies are having for you; he hums.

 It takes a moment for your pulse to die enough in your ears for you to realize that he’s humming your answer, humming the song on your mind right now. The vibration against the back of your neck lulls you into a relaxed state, letting your body fall into his, trying not to think about how well you fit into him. Part of you says to turn over, to face him and address the thoughts running through your head, though the other half of you says not to move or you’ll ruin everything.

His grip on your fingers tightens as he feels you relax against him, pressing his body closer to yours until you are no longer sure where he starts and you end. His voice is muffled against your skin, warm like the rest of him, “do you want me to move?”.

You shake your head, throat dry as you respond with a dry “no”.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time..”

“Give me a heart attack?” He chuckles behind you, laughing with his whole body and you feel the final shards of fear melt from your skin with the sound.

“No, to touch you without you pulling away from me.” Your heart is in your throat at his answer, mind racing as you try to interpret what he could mean.

“Why…why would you want to do that?”

He’s silent for a moment and you can hear him swallow, his hand suddenly clammy in yours. You try to think of  another time you’ve seen him this nervous, but nothing comes to mind and you wonder what you’ve done.

“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N, is it really that hard to notice?”

“You can’t be in love with me Chanyeol. You didn’t even know my name for an entire semester of our friendship.”

“Yes I did. I’ve known your name since the first time Kyungsoo introduced us. I just liked hearing you say it and the way you smiled at me when I asked for it again.” His thumb rubs circles into your skin at his confession.

“Why would you be in love with me?” Your voice is small and he hates it, hates the way you’ve returned behind your wall, hidden back in your shell.

“It’s simple, why wouldn’t I?”

He doesn’t say anything else, and soon you can feel his breaths deepen against the back of your neck and you know he’s fallen asleep. Something in you tells you to let it go, to wonder what he could mean tomorrow when the world is back to normal.

So for now, you listen and tighten your grip on his fingers as you let yourself fall asleep, body pressed and wrapped up in the boy you love and the last thought that passes through your mind is that for once, you’re glad no one told you a party was going on.

[thedistantstorm]

Tribute: A Kalluzeb Story (pt 3)

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Pairings: Kallus/Zeb (kalluzeb)

Chapter: 3 of 3 (maaaaybe I’ll write an epilogue, if there’s interest)

AO3 Link Here

Summary: Zeb works on a gift for Kallus, to replace something he’s lost. It’s a gateway to a conversation Zeb wants to have in the future, but there’s something a bit more urgent they need to talk about first.

Notes: Welcome to this monster of a chapter of (almost) 3k words. I haven’t written a good confession fic in probably 10 years. I’ll be over here cringing at how corny I am, let me know if I should write more of them.

<< Previously

-/

The hottest part of the day on the jungle moon is the early afternoon, which seems to drag on for hours longer than the day itself. Most of the rebellion’s techs cope by slinging tarps between the wings of their ships or by dragging their toolkits and benches to rest among the shade provided by the trees, anything to escape the heat and humidity if they are not needed inside the repurposed temple.

Someone had commandeered a large fan, likely one that helped paint dry, and propped it up so that it would circulate air through Ghost's galley and hold, venting it outside more efficiently than the exhaust and creating a bit of a breeze. Zeb knew Kallus was likely responsible for it, and if not directly, he was at least responsible for making sure it stayed put when it was brought to someone's attention that Chopper had stolen it.

Otherwise, Hera would most assuredly return it and suffer in silence. Kallus still frightened enough of the recruits to get away with forcing them to share when it was feasible, but was smooth enough to manage to do so in a way that didn't warrant leadership's negative attention.

Not that Zeb thought anyone would begrudge Hera a fan, once they knew. Though, once everyone finds out about her condition, Hera will likely be so concerned with not showing weakness they’ll have to coddle her extra subtly. She’ll hate every moment of it, but she’ll put up with it from them more than the rest. He’s already resolved not to take any extended missions away while she’s with child. Where she goes, he goes. He doesn’t have the most tact, and he’s no covert operative like Kallus. But he’s a good bodyguard, and a pretty decent-sized shield, should she and the baby need.

The sound of measured boots coming up the ramp tip him off, and he looks up to see Kallus headed towards him. He looks better than last night, despite the absurd heat, he manages to look cool and collected in his jacket, hair swaying slightly in the breeze from the fan as he rounds it to head into the galley where Zeb sits at the round table. He looks good, Zeb thinks. Earthy colors suit him far better than Imperial black and grays.

Kallus strips the jacket the moment he sees Zeb, the freckled skin of his arms immediately visible, catching Zeb’s eye. There’s a wry smile on his face, a little crooked - bashful and unassuming, as if he’s apologizing for his happiness (though that’s diminished a lot over time) - but genuine.

“You’re late,” Zeb drawls, without any heat to it.

He scoffs, the sound disbelieving. “I did not know we had an appointment,” He quips lightly.

The Lasat rubs the back of his head. “I just figured your debrief would’ve been done a while ago. Hera’s already come and gone.”

“Mon Mothma stopped me. She noticed Hera looks a little…” He gestures to his stomach.

“Ah,” Zeb winces. “Y’didn’t-”

“Of course not,” Kallus replies indignantly. “I suggested that if she had any concerns about Ge-” A look stops him in his tracks, there are rules about formality aboard this ship, “about Hera, that perhaps it would be a good idea to go to the source.”

“Smart.”

Kallus nods. “So. You wanted to show me something?” His eyes narrow, focusing on Zeb’s yellow-green ones. “I realize I’m late now-”

“Ha ha,” Zeb interrupts. “I was... workin’ on somethin’ for you. Well, us,” He amends, having to look away under the intensity of Kallus’s baffled gaze, “But… Anyway, I got somethin’ for you. A gift.” The earnest look in his eyes betrays him as he rises, ears tucked back in embarrassment. He jerks the human equivalent of a thumb back towards the crew quarters. “Be back in a second. Don’t leave.” He makes a staying motion with both hands, and Kallus stares after him as he goes, he can feel that amber gaze on his back.

There’s hardly a chance that Kallus will leave unless they wind up under attack, but the words tumble out against Zeb’s wishes, choppy and uneven.

He opens the door to Sabine’s room, a place Kallus would never enter without the Mandalorian’s express permission, and therefore the perfect place to make sure both weapons fully cure unseen. He’d retracted his back to its most compact form already, but Kallus’s would need to be as well. He does so, and the sleek, matte black of the brand new J-19 bo-rifle lines up parallel to his, the engravings painstakingly aligned despite the differences in weapon design.

Fleetingly, he wonders if he shouldn’t have talked himself out of the jaig eyes that had adorned Kanan’s mask, but a moment of clarity strikes, reminds him that the best way he can honor Kanan’s memory - and his sacrifice - is to take care of Hera, to make good on their commitment to this rebellion. To keep moving forward.

He squares his shoulders, slings his weapon across his back and plucks up the one meant to be a gift. If he doesn’t get a move on, Kallus is bound to start getting anxious.

True to form, the rebel captain is pacing.

"And here I was, figurin' I'd be the nervous one," Zeb tries to joke. He laughs, a short sound from the second exit to the galley from which he'd come, keeping the gift out of sight.

"In my experience, a gift isn't always that," He murmurs, inspecting Zeb. "Though… I don't think you'd try to hurt me," He clarifies, softer, ducking his head before looking up, embarrassed. "Old habits," He offers meekly.

"S'ok, Alex," He smiles at the human, who never finds this particular expression to be malevolent or frightening, like a lot of others do. Apparently, to humans, Lasat have a default setting of frightening. Or, at least, Zeb does.

But not to Kallus, who tilts his head to the side, stepping back in what's meant to be a welcoming gesture. "So," He begins, and immediately trails off.

"So," Zeb rubs the back of his head with his free hand, his encumbered one holding the gift inside the doorway, out of view, "I, uh," He winces. Now he's nervous. He shouldn't be, he thinks. It's just Alex. Alex who knows him, sees through all his gruffness, usually knows what he's trying to say better than he does himself. He could just downplay it to practicality if he needs to, he supposes. "Well," He decides, after a five-count of the other man starting to look rather concerned, "Here."

Their gazes meet once more. "Zeb, what-"

The rest of his words get stuck, lodging in his throat as he admires the weapon. Of course, Zeb sees that flicker in his eyes, the self-doubt, the way Kallus believes himself unworthy. "It's not your old one, so you'll have to mod it again, but-"

Kallus finds his voice all of a sudden. It rises sharply in pitch. "Do you have any idea how much these go for on the black market?" He gestures at it, innocent and gleaming in the yellowish lighting of the Ghost's galley. "What am I saying, of course you do," He continues, frantically pacing to subvert some of his nervous energy, biting back what is likely a slew of self-destructive commentary. "Zeb, I-" He swallows. "This is too much. It must have cost a fortune. It's practically brand new!"

Quiet, still holding the weapon out with both massive paws, he waits. Kallus doesn't say anything more.

"It is," Zeb tells him, speaking slow, words carefully measured, as if trying not to send Kallus into a tailspin. When he stops, blinks back, Zeb continues. "New, that is." And then, before Alex can launch into another tirade about costs and how he's likely spent his life's savings on a weapon, he cuts him off. "It's not black market. Some friends a'mine were able to help get parts for my rifle, so I asked out they could help me replace yours."

"I-" His eyes blown wide considering the implications, "What?"

"I paid a fair price, if it makes ya feel better," And then, holding up a hand, he continues, firm, "And no you're not payin' me back."

"But-"

Zeb pads across the room in two big steps, thrusting the weapon against his chest, so that Kallus takes it without thinking, if only to prevent it from clattering to the durasteel floor.

"It's yours," He says, looking down at the shorter man. "I got it for you."

"Garazeb, I truly don't know what to say." He looks down at it, in wonder. "I have so many questions. How did your friends manage to find one so-" He pauses, finally seeing Zeb's handiwork. "Is this?" His eyes find Zeb's, blown wide in surprise, and maybe a little awe. "Did you do this?" He motions to the stock and the symbol etched there. "The detail is incredible."

His ears pull back in self consciousness, a tell arguably more noticeable than a blush in his eyes. His body isn't capable of the same color changing reaction his furless friends are. "Yeah," He says. "That one wasn't too difficult to stencil, it's a flatter surface, and the lines are neat 'n even." He pulls his own weapon over his shoulder. "This one," He says, gesturing to the right side of the concealed staff on Kallus's weapon, while holding his out to show how they match, "Bit more difficult. The curve is tricky, an' all the tails get…" He realizes he's rambling and stops, watching Alex's look of amazement crumple into something still composed, but right on the brink of emotional.

"Purrgil," He breathes, tracing his fingers across the design, eyes flicking over to Zeb's. By design, they look as though they're drifting towards each other. Perfect mirror images. "Zeb, I-" He shakes his head, swallowing thickly. "I really am at a loss for words."

"I was worried it might be a bit too much, but," He exhales, deflating just a bit. "I know you miss 'im too, and even if he joked a lot about how you might still be out to get us-"

"We came to understand each other," Kallus says, "Jabba and I." His laugh is short but fond at the nickname the child had given himself, years ago. "And I do miss him, strangely enough."

"Yeah," Zeb agrees, one finger ghosting over the engraving on his ivory staff. "Thought you might."

A sad smile lifts the corners of Kallus's lips. "You do know me far better than most," He admits. "I admit, I'll never be able to give you more than what you've given - and continue to give me." In the Lasat's eyes, Kallus's irises seem to shine as he continues. "What I mean to say is thank you, Zeb."

"Ah, well, uh, you're welcome," He answers back, rendered momentarily stupid by a combination of attractive ex-imperial and enough sincerity to sink a star destroyer. His blasted hand finds the back of his head to scratch at his fur, self conscious. "I mean, you know me pretty well, too," He supposes, trying to sound collected. "Y'know, how I feel about you and all that." Setting his bo-rifle on the circular table, he's able to gesticulate vaguely.

"I do?"

With perfect timing, Hera strides in, Mart and Hobbie on her tail, and Chopper bringing up the rear. One quick sweep of the room later, the rifles on the table, Zeb looking sheepish Kallus frozen, their hands gesturing towards each other in mutual confusion as a result of what can only be the conversation, Hera turns on her heels.

"Back outside," She orders them.

"But you said you needed your-"

"It can wait," Hera says, trying not to draw Kallus's attention. Chopper whirls the top of his frame around excitedly, and Hera bonks him once with a gentle fist before he can say anything. "One word from you and you'll be powered down." The manipulators don't stop waving chaotically, even as Hera pushes him back down the ramp. The boys follow along dutifully but confused, laughing nervously. Hers chances a glance back at Zeb and flashes a thumbs up before disappearing out of sight.

Zeb sighs, exasperated.

"What was that?" It's said with a touch of suspicion, though it has that slightly disbelieving breathy tone Kallus doesn't realize he has. "Hera was acting like she'd intruded on us-" He blinks, eyes widening in realization. "Oh," He says, dumbly, cheeks flushing a rosy shade or two darker than usual.

"Yeah." Zeb winces.

"I think I need to sit down," Kallus admits quietly.

"Sure." Then, realizing he'd be looming over the table or sticking to the perimeter of the room like he's try to escape, Zeb adds, "Can I, I mean, d'ya mind if I join you?"

Kallus waves at the open space in the booth closest to Zeb. He's not frowning, so Zeb supposes that's a good thing, as he says, "By all means."

"So."

"So," The ex-imperial echoes.

The table is small and their knees bump together. Both of them flinch away, as if burned on contact.

"We are not very good at this," Kallus ventures a brave smile. "You were saying something about-"

"Feelings."

"Yes." Thar hushed, breathy tone is back, and his cheeks have only gotten more red since he'd put the pieces together.

"We've, uh, been kinda dancin' around it - er, them - for a bit now, Alex, and-"

"Have we?"

Zeb pulls back, startled. Kallus reached out, almost like he's going to take one of his hands but stops as if thinking better of it. "Karabast," he says, and he can feel his ears prickled by his fur they're pressed down so far. "It seemed to me like you-" He deflates, curling in on himself ever so slightly. "But if you don't," He scrambles, rising, trying to salvage even some scrap of his pride, "Karabast, nevermi-"

On the tail of a big inhale, likely for strength, Kallus does actually make contact, thumb and index finger not quite entirely encompassing Zeb's wrist. "Sit back down!" He admonishes, sharply, pulling him back. He's very red-faced now. "Of course I do!"

"You do?"

"Did you suspect otherwise?"

"Well no," Zeb supposes out loud, "But you said-"

Kallus hangs his head, and everything quiets. "I did. I didn't mean it like… that." He releases Zeb's wrist, only so his fingers can instead fan over the Lasat's clenched fist. "I didn't want to be presumptuous and yet at the same time we're rather… open, with our affections towards each other." He sighs, tilting his head to look at Zeb clearly. "I realize in hindsight that it is a terrible contradiction."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Zeb presses. Beneath Kallus's hand, his fingers unfurl and flip, their fingers meshing together. "Is this-"

"Yes."

Zeb exhales, squaring his shoulders. Resolved. Ready. "Alright then. Let's start this over."

Whatever he's about to say is interrupted by Chopper, wheeling up the ramp.

"Bah bwaaaah," The droid mocks, looking between the human and Lasat as if disappointed. "Bah bahbah bahbahba!" He extends his manipulators to accentuate what was a very direct just kiss him already!

"Gee, thanks, pal," Zeb snarls heatedly. "I hadn't thought of that!"

"C1-DASH-10P!"

"Buah bo," The droid swivels around, looking frantically for a place to hide. Despite him deserving it, the tone of Hera's voice makes both men wince.

"Leave them alone!" She crooks a finger at the menacing astromech and he comes, arguing with her about how they just need to get on with it already, why are organics so awkward when they clearly know what they want already.

"That was-"

"Did you maybe want to-"

They stare at each other.

"You first," Zeb offers, cringing.

"Perhaps maybe you should-"

They sigh.

After a moment, when the general awkwardness seems to bleed into something that might be almost comfortable, given any other situation, Kallus's fingers gently trace the inlaid design of the purrgil. "It is beautiful," He says, reverent. "Your craftsmanship. I didn't know you did such detail work."

"Surprising, right? I can follow a design, I'm not like Sabine or nothin'," He traces the fulcrum symbol. "Jus' wanted you to have something custom. Figure it's not gonna replace what you've lost, but we can remember that stuff and move forward."

"Together?"

Zeb looks at him, green-gold eyes bright. "Yeah." Then, bold and enthused, he adds, "I mean, I've basically been trying to tell you that- mmph!"

Kallus looks smug, despite the very obvious blush and the way his fingers err on the side of caution, not quite wanting to dig into the fur on Zeb's arm as he pulls back from a very chaste, lightning-quick kiss. "You haven't told me much of anything," He quips smartly. "Most of this I've had to gather by context."

"I'll give you context," The Lasat roars, wrapping a muscular arm around Alex's shoulders and pulling him in. "C'mere, you."

He goes easily. This time, the kiss is only slightly less chaste, and ends with their foreheads pressed gently together. "You still haven't told me anything," Kallus reminds him, though he's smiling.

"You just want to hear me say it," Zeb grouses.

Laughing, almost giddy, Kallus admits, "I suppose I do."

"Fine. I've got feelings for you, Alex. Romantic ones." He squints. No, that doesn't sound right. "Er, well, they're more than just feelings, like-" He casts a helpless look up at Kallus, just as he begins to laugh.

"Oh, Garazeb," He says, unbelievably fond. "I love you, too."

[inactiive-shit]

"If you die, I'm going to kill you" with Logince?

Hey! Thank you so much for the prompt, I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope you like it, my guy!

Title: Icarus

Words: 1,742

I am going to put this under a read more because it got long. Hope you don’t mind! Let’s-a go!

Logan glares up at Roman’s shrinking figure. Roman, in true Prince-family fashion, had ignored all of Logan’s well-meaning and factually correct warnings and climbed the tree. It is a very tall, old tree and had very sparse branches the higher up he goes.

And he is going so very, very high.

“Roman, must you do this? We were having a nice, peaceful walk.” Logan rubs his temples but his eyes never waver from Roman.

“C’mon, Specs. It’s for science. Besides, did you start dating me for nice and peaceful?” Logan flushes, but he will not dignify that with a response.

“You realize that you are recreating the age-old legend of Icarus, don’t you?” Logan calls after him. He can’t stop himself from trying to persuade Roman down, even when he hears Roman’s laugh traveling down the tree and feels it wrapping around his chest like some strange, comforting force.

“You’ll have to remind me,” he says, voice echoing all over the forest. He sounds so assured and fearless, nearly ethereal, as though he were invincible, and for a moment Logan almost believes it. But he knows that if Roman gets hurt, Logan will not be able to move him back to the car alone, and the cell reception out here is spotty at best. Logan’s heart is in his throat while he watches Roman use another branch to pull himself higher. “I can’t quite remember that one.”

“Falsehood,” Logan mutters. Roman was the one who had the Greek phase. He knows each and every myth and legend like the back of his hand. He would not just forget one, and especially not Icarus.

“What’s that?” Roman says even though Logan knows there is absolutely no way that his voice would have been audible Roman at all.

“I said that you are a poor liar at best, which is astounding as you claim to be such a wonderful actor.” Roman makes an ‘offended Princey noise’ and Logan snorts. “But if you insist on playing the part of the ignorant fool, I will comply. Icarus attempted to escape from Crete by flying on wings that his father created from feathers and wax. Except,” Logan’s voice took on a far-away quality that he was not even entirely aware of, “when he truly could fly, he became arrogant and would not heed any warnings given to him. He believed he would be able to touch the sun. But he flew too high, and the heat of the sun melted the wax, and Icarus fell into the sea. He never escaped from Crete.” Logan pauses, lost in the way the myth happens, the way history can be written by tragedies or by triumphs, the way everything that can be done will be and every folly will follow with it.

Not every venture is rewarded.

Logan suddenly comes back to himself and shakes the reverie off of himself like a dog shakes water. “You are getting very close to the sun, my Prince.”

“Not nearly close enough,” Roman says. Logan is about to sigh but gets cut short when a branch cracks and Roman yelps.

“Roman, are you okay?” Logan runs frantically back and forth under the tree, trying to see if Roman is hurt or if he’s going to fall. He is far enough away that Logan can’t make out any details. “I swear to god, if you die, I’m going to kill you!” he shouts.

Roman laughs and Logan can tell it is the half nervous, half excited giggle that Logan has always loved. It usually means adventure and fun, but Logan’s well aware, in this moment, that Roman can get just as excited about the negative possibilities as the positive.

“You’ve been reduced to nonsense phrases, nerd.” Roman’s voice is as loud and steady as ever. “Promise, I’m safe. I wasn’t even touching the branch that broke.”

“Roman,” Logan says.

“One more second.” Slowly, Roman spreads his arms out to either side.

Logan’s breath catches in his throat as he stares up at his boyfriend. He looks radiant with the gold of the setting sun outlining him against the rich pink of the evening sky. Logan knows that beauty is a construct, an impossible standard set by society, something that is different for every person, but as he looks up at Roman and takes in every bit of gorgeous, burning life that drips from him, and every bit of dazzling, ravishing fearlessness that makes the world pause and lean toward him, Logan knows irrevocably that Roman has surpassed every standard made to hold them back and stands on his own pedestal, somewhere entirely untouchable to most.

“It’s beautiful, Lo,” he says, barely loud enough for Logan to hear.

And Logan wants to say, you are an incomparable beauty in this world, but instead he says, “Get down from there,” and Roman finally does. He descends the tree quickly and gracefully, as easily as Logan might turn the page of a good book, and then he is standing in front of Logan, a smirk lending his features an air of mischief. It does little to quell the urge Logan has to kiss him, but he refrains.

“You are not invincible, you know,” he says quietly.

“Nothing’s killed me yet,” Roman snarks, but then he gently reaches out and takes ahold of Logan’s hands. “And nothing will any time soon if I have anything to say about it. I swear, my King,” he kisses the backs of Logan’s hands, “I am yours forever.” Then he pulls Logan into a hug, which he reciprocates easily. Roman drops a kiss on the top of his head and it makes Logan bury his face in Roman’s chest.

He supposes if Roman is going to do dangerous things, the least Logan can get out of the deal is a little affection. Plus, Roman’s heart creates a beautiful, steady beat in his chest. It is one of the most calming sounds that Logan has ever heard.

“You forgot part,” Roman suddenly says into his hair.

“What?” Logan asks, voice slow.

“Part of the story of Icarus,” he says. “He flew too close to the sun, but it was the most beautiful thing he ever saw, and the most wondrous he ever felt. To have the heat of the sun warm his back, to have the sea stretched out before him, open and inviting, to experience a second of that same feeling Helios must feel as he pulls the sun in its arc across the sky in a golden chariot; it is the most anyone could ever ask for. Maybe his end was a sacrifice worth making.”

Logan thinks of Roman in the tree, the way the sun shone golden off his hair and skin, creating an impenetrable halo of youth and beauty and naiveté around him. He thinks of Roman reaching the top, the way the world must have looked so large and exciting, piquing every curiosity for any adventure he could imagine. He thinks of Roman watching the world, seeing the sun as it set and perhaps feeling as though he was, for one glorious moment, guiding the chariot Helios used to lead the sun.

Logan thinks of all the things Roman could have felt, and then he thinks of the way Roman came back down the tree. For Logan.

“Perhaps,” Logan agrees. “Perhaps to some such an experience would be worthy of the end it caused. But you are no Icarus.”

“No,” Roman says. “Who would ask for the sun when I already have the whole universe?” He cups Logan’s face in his hands and stares into his eyes, a smile gentling his features. He leans down and Logan leans up, and the kiss is soft and breath-taking, and every emotion Roman must have felt when he was on top of the world spirals through Logan, as shocking as a rainstorm in the desert.

Logan has never needed the same kind of adventure Roman has to feel like he was living life to the fullest. Logan could live a perfectly sound existence with only the company of books and an occasional walk through the woods. But out here, existing with Roman, pulled away from the peaceful familiarity of his books and quiet corners, Logan is thrown headlong into a rush of feelings he did not even know he could encounter personally. The world is loud and bright and painted in exquisite shades of pink and gold and green, and Logan is reminded of the person he loves more than anyone else.

Logan pulls back from Roman, smiling up at him, worry mostly forgotten. It is true that folly follows with every possible path. But for some, like Roman, that folly is merely something others will say and never something that will happen. So Logan leans into his chest and sticks his hand into Roman’s back pocket.

“It’s time to leave,” he says.

“I suppose it is.” Roman keeps one arm wrapped around Logan’s shoulder as they start walking back to the path together. “You should climb the next tree with me.”

“Absolutely not. There will be no ‘next tree.’” Roman laughs, and Logan smothers a smile. They both know there will be a next tree, or a next zipline, or a next shark dive. Logan can no longer imagine a world where he is not dragged along to whatever crazy, death-defying plan Roman has decided on. Whatever it is, he knows it will be exciting and terrifying all in one. He knows that he will feel that same explosion inside his chest, like butterflies and dynamite, and he knows that there is always a possibility that Roman will eventually overestimate himself, just like Icarus. But this path, the one they have chosen together, over and over again, is a path that is more than worth whatever destination awaits.

Logan squeezes Roman, just slightly. “No more trees.”

“Of course,” Roman says. “What do you think about parachuting?” Logan laughs and relishes in these moments, small and glorious and perfect. They are few and far between, but he has more of them now than ever before and he will make as many of them as he can. Between now and forever, they have plenty of time.

Icarus may have flown too high, but Roman is Logan’s sun, and Logan will not melt. He is stronger than fabricated wings of wax, and with Roman lighting his path there is nothing Logan can’t do.

[nexstage]

LIMBO SILVAM - PART 6

Peridot's legs didn't feel like her own while running for her life. Her mind was in utter disarray: one half was yelling at her to accelerate unless she wanted to die; the other half was a mass of curses and regrets for leaving Lapis behind and in the hands of that thing.

She wanted to stop. Heck, her unmaterial heart was trying to stop her whole body, but the more effort Peridot put into it, the more her legs got her away from Lapis. She didn't know what to do even when she knew what was the right thing to do, and it was so frustrating!

'What the hell are you doing you clod?! Come back!', 'I can't! Lapis told me to run away!', 'You can't just leave her like that! You must fight!', 'And getting myself killed?! What about Lapis' sacrifice?!', 'You have to do something!', 'WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M DOING?!'

The green gem pulled at her hair, gritting her teeth while the tears ran through her cheeks. She needed to go back, but without powers what was she going to do?

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" a shriek of pure agony interrupted her train of thought. Peridot finally stopped and looked behind her, she was many kilometers far away from Lapis, but that shout seemed to be very close to her no matter how much she had ran.

Another shriek scared Peridot deeply. Her overreactive imagination started conjuring horrible images of torture. That mysterious figure using whatever powers it had to play with her friend's life until getting bored and shatter her.

"No! Don't think about those things, you clod! Keep running!" Peridot turned back and made a step, then two, then she stopped. Again the conflictive feelings roared in her mind: getting the hell away from that monster or helping Lapis.

'But... What if she's dead already? What if it's for nothing in the end?'

Then the yelling stopped, though that didn't mean Peridot's worries did too. In fact, the silence only aggravated her anxiety.

"Screw it! Lapis can hate me all she wants, but we're going to survive or going down together!" the former technician held the shovel with a vice grip and went back to where she left Lapis, praying that it wasn't too late to save her.

Her legs, however, for some unkown reason felt heavy and sore, like she was carrying pounds of lead on them. Whatever, that didn't matter, Lapis' life was on the line.

Peridot accelerated with all her might, the trees becoming a dark blur that confused her, there were so many and she could potentially get lost or fall into a trap. But her resolution moved her forward, towards she believed the creature and Lapis were; the green gem didn't have a plan to fight the figure except throwing the shovel at its face, 'I will use a distraction. I will use ANYTHING! And Lapis and I will get out of here!'

Minutes passed but Peridot felt like she wasn't getting any closer to Lapis. Then, between the roots of a tree she saw a body. The appearence modiffiers were recognizable even from kilometers. "Lapis!!" Peridot ran faster and inspected her friend's condition.

The ocean gem was unconscious, but she didn't look like she was breathing, though gems didn't need it. And her blue skin had many gray spots as if she had played with gray paint. Was that some symptom of corruption or weird impurities? No, wait, Lapis could only have golden freckles as impurities not those splashes.

"Lapis, hey, Lapis! Come on, wake up!" she didn't respond. Peridot took a look at her gemstone and could barely believe it. There were big dark spots that were expanding and taking over the color blue of Lapis' gemstone. Was that the work of that monster that was chasing them?

"Lapis, please! Wake up! We have to keep going! Please, Lapis! Don't leave me hanging!" the former technician shook her body while holding back tears. What was going on?!

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

Darkness. Around her everything was just that, an immense ocean of silence and darkness. Her limbs felt like ice, cold and hard, and her head was a cacophony of shouts, explosions and falling debris.

Uh... What a curious way to describe her mind.

"Uh? W-Where am--?" the blue gem's eyes opened suddenly, her gaze directed to different angles. There was nothing to see but blackness.

"What is this place? Am-Am I dead?" that might be, right? Though she couldn't quiet remember. She screwed her eyes shut trying to make sense of what was happening.

'That thing was in front of me. It extended its hand towards me... I can't remember more' It wasn't right. She should remember!

Willing her body to move, she...floated? Levitated? How could Lapis know? In a dimension where color black was the only thing surrounding you, it was impossible to distinguish up from down.

"Hello? Hello?! Is anybody here?" She was answered with silence. It was eerie. Her arms wrapped around herself in a way to bring some comfort, though the shivers running through her spine didn't stop.

"Is this really what humans calls Afterlife? Or is it the end of existence?"

"--ou... --eat --e"

"Uh?" what was that? "Is someone there?"

"--or...! --e --t --k!"

So, she wasn't alone in that void. That was a good sign, she guessed. Now the question was what the hell was that voice saying. It sounded distorted, fragmented and very far away from where Lapis was. Was it a foe? A friend? Maybe neutral? 'Focus, Lapis. Listen closely!' she admonished herself, not thinking in anything while waiting for the strange voice to talk again.

"--s... --ge!" there it was! But she couldn't understand that either, and responding to that voice without knowing if it was a foe or an ally didn't seem a good idea. 'But what other options do I have?' Zero. That's the number. So, going against her best judgement she shouted to wherever the voice was.

"Please, tell me who you are! Where are you?! Please!"

"... --ols! ...--nk's --ds!" the voice wasn't still making sense, but it sounded clearer now. Suddenly, Lapis noticed from meter away from her a round, silver surface that looked -much to her wariness- like a mirror. Was she... No, impossible! She wasn't stuck again in that goddamn object like thousands of years ago!

"Calm down, Lazuli. Just calm down and find a way to get out of here". Hugging herself, she amounted enough courage to go check on the silver surface and heard a strangely familiar sound: static. Like the one coming from a TV. And the more she approached the surface-like mirror, the louder she could hear it. And what big her surprise was at seeing that the mysterious mirror was like a broken TV, with its static sound and nothing but a sea of infinite white, black and gray little dots moving.

What if by breaking the static-like mirror she got free? That was a good question she needed to answer for herself, so Lapis put into a fighting position and with all her might punched the mirror. The outcome wasn't what she expected, if she was honest.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!" she covered her ears as a wave of war screams, panicked cries and high-pitched mocking laughter crashed with her. The pieces of glass from the mirror levitated and got bigger, becoming static-y screens that showed moving pictures, poorly drawn like if they were a toddler's creation.

Lapis looked at every scene they showed. Some were of landscapes divided by deeps rifts made by earthquakes, a blue sea turning sickeningly red-pink, people screaming for help on the streets, a giant something looming over some people. 'What are those images? Are they my memories?' Lapis surprised herself at that realization, yeah, maybe they were! She could get her answers!

She ran, no caring how the wave of madenning sounds overwhelmed her ears, and touched one of the fragmented screens.

In hindsight, she should've thought a bit better about that plan.

The moving images froze and the screen shapeshifted into a sharp, elastic spike that stabbed her in the stomach. And not only that one, the others too. One by one, the rest became deadly spikes attacked her, and then hell began.

Excruciating, crazy pain exploded inside her body, her shouts becoming part of the sea of noise. The blue gem could feel everything and anything, it was so numbing and agonizing that she couldn't get it. It was like being hit by incredibly fast asteroids that came back to tackle you again and again; crashing to earth thousands of times and being scrubbed on the ground violently as if you were sandpaper by a giant; falling apart from the inside in the most terrifying way.

But the worst part was her gemstone. It was burning her, kind of ironic because her element was water, but still. Having the sun on her back was nothing compared to that sensation, it couldn't even be labeled as pain.

She wanted it to stop! She wanted the pain of the stabs, the fire in her gemstone, and even the mocking laughter that was sinking her mind to FUCKING get lost!!

Her whole body was losing its own grip. Glitching madly, distorting, twisting. The terror she felt in the Gem War or knowing the Diamonds were coming back to Earth paled in comparison with that nightmarish experience.

'WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME?! SOMEONE, HELP ME!!!' And when it couldn't get worse, she exploded. Blinding light taking over the dark void.

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

"Blaaaaaarrrrgghh!" the sound of vomiting woke up Peridot immediately from her nap. She looked to her friend and was shocked with horror at what Lapis was expulsing from her body. A night-black, oozing substance that looked like a mix of brea and acid made a disgusting poodle in the snow.

After some minutes vomiting, Lapis shivered exhausted. Her tear-filled eyes opened and looked desperately for some help until she felt gentle hands rubbing circles in her back and wrapped her in a kind hug.

"It's ok, Laz. I'm here. I-I'm here" Peridot tried to not let the crack in her voice be noticeable and inhaled a big gulp of air to calm herself down. "I was so sick worried about you. I-I thought you would never wake up". Some tears ran through her green cheeks which Lapis' trembling, weak hand dried lovingly.

"It's good to...see you again..." the blue gem was between falling unconscious again and stay awake. She was so tired. She wanted to sleep. Wait, no! No sleeping! What if she was back to that void full of noises and hellish pain. The svelte gem'd rather die than go through that again.

With all the strength she could muster, Lapis sat, Peridot helped her support her back on a tree trunk while looking at her worriedly, anxiously. "Hey, change...that face, you d-dork. I'm ok" the ocean gem caressed Peridot's cheek, smiling at her to relieve the tension.

The former technician grabbed her hand like it was a lifeline and sniffed a bit. "Don't you dare to do that again, you clod! If we're going to get out of this stupid forest, it will be together, got it?" Lapis snorted but nodded nontheless. She didn't know in which part of the forest they were or why Peridot decided to come back for her, but she didn't care at all. She was happy to have her green companion at her side.

However, her relief was short-lived at seeing the condition in which Peridot was. Her gemstone had black spots that were spreading, slowly but spreading. Her body had grey splotches in many zones and in the center of them, dark cracks-like veins growing larger.

"P-Peridot, y-your body! Your gemstone! W-What happened?!"

"Oh! Oh..." the green gem grimaced, not knowing how to explain what had happened while Lapis was unconscious. She laughed nervously and then closed her eyes, gritting her teeth due to a sudden migraine.

"Peridot!" Lapis tried to tend to her but her body was so sore for the pain that there was no energy left to move, that and the former technician stopped her from doing something. "It's alright, just an annoying headache"

"What happened?"

Peridot sighed, massaging her temples a bit to alleviate the pain. "I was against the idea of leaving you behind, even when you told me to. I ran as fast as I could to save you from that thing. But when I found you..."

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Just Feel Better.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes/ Reader. Warnings: Mentions of suicide, self-harm, depression, etc. Author’s note: Welcome to my super-duper angsty as fuck Endgame compliant Bucky Barnes/ Reader story.

"She said I need you to hold me I'm a little far from the shore And I'm afraid of sinking You're the only one who knows me And who doesn't ignore That my soul is weeping..."

Perhaps life was always meant to be difficult.

Before the blip, things were maybe, at the very least, tolerable. It wasn't easy, but it sure as hell wasn't this hard either. Your days used to be spent on the grounds of the Avengers Compound, whether it be writing, training, or just watching as the lazy white clouds drift past you. Back when you had a family, back when you had Natasha, and Tony, and Clint, and Steve, and Sam and hell, there was an occasion when even Bucky made you feel welcome in his space.

You belonged to this stupid, dysfunctional family, and you were happy.

But perhaps your life was never meant to have it's happily ever after. Not in the way the fairytales described it. Perhaps you were never meant to have your prince charming, never meant to have your family. Because in the blink of an eye, or the snap of fingers, it was gone. Everything you had worked so hard to build, so hard to keep close to you. It was gone in piles of dust and grief.

Over the course of five years, everything became so much harder for you. There were gaps in conversations around the dinner table, days that would go by in silence, the compound was virtually empty on the off chance you found your way there.

Sometimes it gets too much to bear. Sometimes it gets so hard, so intense that you don't know where to turn; what to do, nor how to get through it all. Steve tries, and god does he try. He tells you stories, he holds you as you cry in grief over your lost loved ones.

He spends five years trying to help rebuild you, and you will always love him for that.

You soon figure out that the nights are the worst.

When you can hear your own breathing in the pitch black as you stare up at the ceiling. The window is slightly ajar so the nightmares can crawl in and consume your whole being. Just like they had so many nights before. You can hear the scratching of the tree outside on your window; the scratching you're sure will drive you slowly insane, yet you can't find the need to care anymore. You don't feel like you have much to live for these days anyway.

There would be times when Steve was there, broken in his own grief, his hands roughly gripping you as he thrusts into you.

You both know that you're not in love with each other, it's just two friends mourning.

Four floors up seem almost appropriate; leaning on your steel and glass railing. The large thick glass which separates you from the concrete ground below. How easy it would be to just climb and just free fall to the ground. You don't know why you don't, but the part of you, the sensible part of you tells you that you can't bring more grief to your friends, you try and rebuild what you can with what you have.

Drawing one last breath from your only comfort, you threw the still-lit cigarette over the balcony and walked back inside; wondering what was really keeping you back.

Was it the promise Natasha made that they would find a way to bring everyone back? Was it the pain in Steve's face when he came to visit you at night?

He was there for you when Tony and Natasha died when you collapsed on the floor in a fit of tears. It was his arms around her, his voice whispering, promising that everything was going to be okay and that everything was going to get better.

James Buchannan Barnes, the man who, not that you knew it then, would become the singular most important person in your life.

Steve was gone. Tony was gone. Natasha was gone.

And you felt like you were crumbling inside.

Promises were made to be broken.

You can deal with the heartbreak you had endured over the past few years, you can deal with the worried looks the new team would throw at you, the way they stop talking when you walk into the room. What you can't ever deal with, something you can't understand, is the sympathy.

Steve held your hand in his own withered hand, both of you staring out over the lake with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding furiously in your chest.

"Look after him. Give him that same light you gave me all those years ago," You need each other.

The looks they threw you for weeks after; maybe they saw something had changed in you; something had finally snapped.

Because something had changed in you, no one could really put a finger on it, but the weight of the world had settled on your shoulders, and you didn't know how to shake it off no matter how hard you tried. You tried to be okay, you tried to keep your promise to Steve and show Bucky that the world can be a beautiful place, you kept him out of his head when you noticed him thinking too much.

Somewhere along the way, Bucky Barnes became your best friend. And you tried to be okay for him. Except you weren't. And he noticed. Because you weren't you anymore. You weren't the girl who would bounce into the compound every day with a smile on her face, her nails painted some bright and happy color; no.

You had changed, broken.

Hallow.

Bucky, as per usual, was the first one to notice it. Most likely because he was the closest one to you. Almost like your best friend.

At first, it was just the tears which would fall when the doors were closed, then it was your cool demeanor when you placed a gun in the face of a suspect you were interrogating and took the safety off, that was when alarm bells started ringing.

That wasn't your style.

Sam was the first one to pull you aside and asked you if you needed to talk; which, of course, you denied needing. He knew better than everyone that you did need to talk; you needed to cry, shout or hurt someone. Because he knew you weren't dealing with this the way you should be.

Bucky comes by your apartment at least once a week; just to make sure you're okay. Just to make sure your cupboards are stocked, your bills are paid and you're eating properly. He sees your laundry in one corner as you sit on the recliner chair, your laptop on your lap and the music on the tv blaring through the speakers.

“Hey'” He says to you as he steps into the threshold. He watches as you spin round to face him; dark gray circles under her eyes. You look so different without any make-up on.

He couldn't see the marks under your eyes due to it at the compound; but now...God, he realized that you needed him more then he thought. You looked like hell.

“Hey, Buck” You replied, closing down your laptop and sitting up straight.

You watched as he comes around in front of you and sits on the couch; leaning forward with his arms on his knees. He stares at you as if he's trying to figure you out; yet, he quickly realizes, you look as though you don't want to be figured out anymore.

There was once a time when he could make you smile, back in Wakanda,  when he would say something and you would have a quick and witty comeback which would put even Sam to shame; but these days, ever since the aftermath of the snap, ever since your family died and broke apart.

You were broken.

He knew that there was once a time when you would take pride in your appearance, he would watch you sometimes, before the snap,  you would look absolutely beautiful, he found you beautiful before, but when you dolled yourself up, he found himself catching his breath. You would spend about an hour every morning putting your make-up on; picking out an outfit that was fashionable yet workable.

Nowadays, you would throw on whatever you felt like wearing; not caring if it was still dirty or too big for you.

He was worried about you.

Because he had been there, so many years before. He knew what it was like to feel lost, to feel broken and hallow and not knowing where your place was anymore.

Bucky stood up and picked up one of your shirts “When was the last time you did some washing?” He asked you, noticing you stare up at him; not seeing any signs of life inside your once bright eyes.

“I dunno. A while I suppose” You shrugged as you placed the laptop on the desk beside your chair.

“Have you talked to anyone yet?” He asks you; sitting back on the couch “Sam?”

You can't breathe. Every time you do it gets more and more painful. Like a thousand bricks sitting on your chest. Weighing you down, crushing you slowly. “No”

'Why not?' Talk to me.

You don't know. Maybe because you feel like you're a burden. Like your problems are so small and insignificant that they're pointless. Yet, every time you push them away; they crush you again. All your problems weigh down your life until you feel as though you can't take it anymore. So that simple leap from the fourth floor doesn't seem so hard to do.

“Because it's just so hard” Almost too hard.

Bucky walks over to you and crouches down in front of you; his piercing blue eyes staring at you; trying to find something on your face which gives away your emotions. He places his hands on gently on your knees and gives them a reassuring squeeze. “Why?”

Because I'm suffocating.

“It hurts too much Buck” You, for the first time in too long, allows the tears to fall from the back of your eyes.

Tony died and you couldn't help but feel like it was your fault. If only you had been that little bit quicker, if only you had reached Thanos in time to reach the stones before him.  He had a family, whereas you had no one.

It would have been easier for you to sacrifice yourself.

Steve left and you felt like your one last ally was gone. You wondered if Pepper blamed you for Tony's death the way you blamed yourself.

Always hurting someone.

There was absolutely no doubt in your mind about that; you were always hurting someone. If it wasn't from someone taking offense to something you said, it was from you physically hurting them. Shooting them; breaking their hearts. And it killed you almost twice as much.

You wonder if there was a time when this wasn't everything; the pain was so constant in your mind, in the pit of your stomach that it sometimes felt as if you were going to be physically sick. There were times, more than once, when the knife in the second draw of your kitchen was that little bit sharp; and your wrists that little bit too welcoming, but you never could.

Because you were too much of a coward.

You'll never tell anyone that; because you're going to keep it all locked away; like you always does. You're going to keep your fresh, raw emotions locked away in the pit of your stomach because you don't know any other way to deal with them.

The grief was overwhelming inside you. You had never known someone's death to affect you as much as these had. You felt like you were sick yourself; like there really was nothing to get up for.

“I'm here. No matter what” Bucky promises you.

His eyes telling you that he wouldn't have it any other way because, while he and Steve may have been partners and best friends, you were the girl who, unbeknown to her, had stolen his heart away a long time ago.

Before she became who she is now.

“It hurts” You whispered as you clung to his tight-fitting black shirt; feeling him hold you back as the tears fell from your eyes.

“I know it does. And I promise you'll be okay. I've told you this so many times, that I feel like I'm repeating myself with you” He chuckled slightly as you reluctantly let him go and looked around.

You looked around at your apartment, empty cups, take-out boxes, and plates littered your lounge. A small pile of laundry in one corner of your house; you felt surprisingly empty.

He stood up and pulled you up with him “Look, we both know that Steve isn't coming back. No one blames you for Tony. They wouldn't want you to be doing this. They would want you back, he one who could put Sam back in his place with just one comment, the one who would spend a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom because she doesn't think she's pretty enough without it; we want the old you back'” He said; his voice was almost begging.

You swallowed the lump in your throat; you had never heard Bucky beg for anything. And it was all because of you.

You had reduced him to this; begging.

Because it's what you do. You hurt everyone around you.

You don't mean it, but you do it.

And sometimes that hurt comes back for you.

Some call it karma.

You call it fate.

You feel as though fate is laughing at you; that some celestial being is mocking your every move. Making you suffer because they find it amusing to watch you hurt. To watch you feel so cold and so unbeing.

“Come back to us” Bucky pleads as he stares at the tears falling down your cheeks. He places his hands on either side of your face and whispers so softly that you aren't even sure that you heard him properly “Come back to me”

You're so scared. You can feel yourself shake under his touch. The suffocating feeling returns in your stomach and you don't know if you're strong enough to fight it off anymore.

I don't know how.

You don't need to say it; because he sees it in your eyes, the way you're struggling. So gently, as if you were about to break; he stroked your cheek and looked at you “Please”

It was that last please that broke you down; you nodded and clutched your arms around his large, muscular frame. “'m so sorry'” You said as he rubbed your back up and down; reassuring you that you didn't have to be alone anymore. That he was going to be there for you no matter what, that he was there to protect you.

And; so carefully; you pressed your lips to his. So softly at first then harder. Your need for him became so apparent that he didn't know if he had the will power to push you away; he didn't want to seem as though he was taking advantage of you but; you had both seen this coming for such a long time that you both no longer wanted to fight it. You had been through so much stuff together; fought nail and tooth to get here.

And now you were.

Because he promised you that everything was going to be okay.

And it was one promise he intended on keeping.

[maybeishouldwritesomething]

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley Word Count: 1787 Warnings: Nightmares, vague mentions of PTSD, other than that, this is super soft, my dudes.

Hell wasn’t at all how Crowley had imagined it to be. It was dark and dirty, with a lingering smell of ash and something even more unpleasant underneath. He’d expected pits of fire, what he’d found instead was a dingy basement with no windows and a lot of cramped, miserable people.

So he did what he had to do. He worked hard, made connections, anything to gain trust and prove that he’d be of more use on Earth. Anything to get out of there as quickly as possible. He knew he’d never be able to redeem himself in Her eyes, never be able to go home. This was his home now. But if he could just get on the right side of the Hellish powers that be, then maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

He felt cold without his wings.

He still didn’t understand how it had happened. He hadn’t done anything wrong, at least, not really. He just couldn’t keep taking orders without question anymore, not when some of those orders were something more akin to Hell’s standards than Heaven’s.

“I don’t understand why She spent all that time creating them just to test them to destruction,” he had said one day to Gabriel.

He knew that he should never have opened his mouth about this, least of all to Gabriel, but he couldn’t hold his tongue on the subject any longer. The archangel was fond of bragging on about how things were moving along on Earth so quickly, as if he had much, if anything, to do with it, and everything he said just got further and further under Crowley’s skin. He was a smug, self-righteous bastard, and it took every ounce of Crowley’s strength not to say as much right to his face.

“What do you mean?” Gabriel had replied.

Crowley gestured vaguely. “Well, the tree. She gave them curiosity, of course they’re gonna go for it.”

“They wouldn’t,” Gabriel said, and he sounded so self-assured that Crowley felt his fist instinctively clench.

“Oh, yeah? Just watch. Sooner or later, that curiosity’s gonna get the better of them. And then what? What point does that prove? That they weren’t loyal enough? They didn’t believe hard enough? But they were made that way.”

Gabriel tilted his head, looking down the length of his nose at Crowley. Something he was very fond of doing.

“I’d be careful if I were you. The walls have ears, you know.”

Crowley was letting his temper get the better of him, but he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m right, and you know I’m right,” he insisted. “They’re barely more than children. Why do this to them?”

“If it’s what She wills, then so be it,” Gabriel responded, in a tone that clearly said ‘this conversation is over’.

He had to go. It didn’t take long before he began to gather a following. Others were being to question. An uprising would be next, and the hierarchy couldn’t have that. Cut out the sickness and the body has a chance to heal itself. No, Crowley had to go.

Even after all this time, visions of what had happened still came to him without beckoning. Clawed at him in unconsciousness, until he woke up in a cold sweat, alone and terrified.

Hands on him, pushing and pulling, on his wings, fire tearing them apart. He knew he was screaming – he had to be, it was agony - but no sound came from his mouth. And then the whole of Heaven was pulled out from underneath him.

He was falling. No wings to protect him anymore, Heaven far above, and Hell far below.

He’d been cast out. Branded an outsider. A traitor.

No longer wanted or loved by God.

By anyone.

Destined to fester in Hell for Eternity, or until he was torn limb from limb by the bloodthirsty demons that awaited him.

Before he woke up, he’d always see a face. The same one that had been haunting his nightmares since the very Beginning.

Crowley.

A voice. Soft and calm. An oasis from the burning pain.

Crowley!

Crowley woke up with a start. A very distressed-looking Aziraphale was standing in front of him.

“How on Earth did you get here in one piece?” he asked, voice fraught with worry.

Then Crowley realised where he was. He was standing on the doorstep of Aziraphale’s bookshop. It was dark, and the usually bustling street was empty. He’d been sleepwalking.

“’Ziraphale? What…?” Crowley croaked, disorientated.

Aziraphale wrapped an arm around his shoulders, ushering him inside gently.

“Let’s get you inside, dear,” he said, his grip on Crowley just tight enough to guide him.

Crowley went without a fight, still trying to figure out how in Someone’s name he’d even ended up there.

Aziraphale brought him up to his flat, which sat above the shop. It was neat and old-fashioned, much like its tenant. Not that ethereal beings needed to eat or sleep, but Aziraphale had become a creature of comfort during his time on Earth. He liked to have somewhere private to eat and rest, and he had become fond of collecting things over the years. Not just books, but paintings and ornaments, among a great deal of other things. Tat, Crowley affectionately called it, and Aziraphale would just roll his eyes with a smile. He could never understand how Aziraphale never got lost amongst it all.

“There we go,” Aziraphale murmured, helping Crowley onto the sofa.

He carefully draped a blanket over Crowley’s shoulders, and it was only then that Crowley even realised that he was shaking. Aziraphale sat next to him, his face still full of concern. He stayed quiet, waiting for Crowley to find his voice.

“Been having nightmares,” he said eventually, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Nightmares? About what?”

“The Fall,” Crowley said shortly.

Aziraphale shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“Ah,” was all he said.

“It never changes, it’s always…Always just before it…”

Crowley swallowed thickly, trying to gather the courage to continue.

“Before it happened. They’re all glaring at me like they don’t even know me anymore. And there’s Gabriel.”

The fact that Gabriel was all but spat didn’t go unnoticed.

“He’s looking at me like he’s been wanting this for years. Probably had, the bastard. I never did fit into his perfect regime. And then…”

Crowley trailed off, voice faltering. Aziraphale gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

“And then?” he prompted softly.

“And then I see you,” Crowley said, turning to look at Aziraphale. “And the way you look at me, it’s…I’ve never seen you look so disgusted. I’m losing my balance, and you’re the one to give me the final push.”

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s always you.”

Aziraphale placed his hands on Crowley’s face, gently, so as not to frighten him any further.

“Crowley,” he murmured, “Crowley, look at me. Please.”

Crowley forced himself to open his eyes.

“I would never-” He faltered, stopped, then tried to start again. “You know that I would never- You mean far too much to me.”

“And what if that’s what it all comes down to, hm?” Crowley asked. “When they find out about us. About everything we’ve done. You’re gonna have to choose. They’re gonna make you choose.”

Crowley let out a shaky laugh, but there wasn’t a trace of humour in it.

“It’s me or them. Are you really gonna choose to fall?”

“Crowley-”

“The whole of Heaven, gone. Your whole life here, gone. For a demon? You wouldn’t. You can’t.”

“I would.”

Aziraphale’s voice was so small, and so full of fear. He looked at Crowley, tears forming in his eyes.

“I would,” he said again, insistently.

“Aziraphale-”

“No, you listen to me. My entire existence, all I’ve been told is what to do. What to say. Who to heal. Who to let die. And then you came along. You didn’t tell me what to do. You listened. You let me decide things for myself. You cared about what I had to say. I was created as a vessel for Her Will, but you…You let me become my own being.”

Aziraphale blinked, trying to hold back his tears, but it was no good. They were already rolling down his cheeks.

“If, in the end, it comes down to all of Heaven and Earth, and you, I’ll choose you. I’ll always choose you.”

Crowley opened his mouth to try and argue again, and Aziraphale shook his head.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Please don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t think I can bear it.”

Crowley carefully placed his hands over Aziraphale’s, taking them in his own and holding them tightly. As if someone was about to try and take him away at that very moment.

“They’ll cast you out too,” he said quietly.

“Then so be it,” Aziraphale replied resolutely, squeezing Crowley’s hands in turn. “Better to know who I am than to stand idly by in the name of so-called virtue. I can’t be that person anymore. I won’t.”

Every word coming from Aziraphale’s mouth sounded insane, but Crowley knew by the look on his face that he meant every one of them. It was overwhelming. Never, in all of his years of existence, had anyone ever cared so much for him. Not even when he was still an angel. And knowing that Aziraphale would sacrifice everything, just for him…

It so rarely happened, but Crowley found himself at a loss for words. He settled for leaning in to rest his forehead against Aziraphale’s. Judging by the angel’s little sigh, it said more than words ever could.

They stayed like that for a while, the pain and worry in each of them forced aside, if only to allow them a moment of peace. Together.

It was Aziraphale who finally broke the silence.

“Let’s get you to bed, dear,” he said. “I know how accustomed to sleep you are, and I’d hate to break you of your routine. Come on.”

He stood up, holding out a hand to help Crowley to his feet. Crowley didn’t argue, just let himself be led to bed.

“Will you…stay with me?” he asked, and he hated how much he sounded like a lost child.

How much he felt like one.

Aziraphale smiled.

“Of course I will,” he replied softly.

Crowley had barely laid his head on the pillow when Aziraphale was gently pulling him into his arms. He didn’t put up a fight, just let himself be wrapped up in that warmth, let Aziraphale murmur small words of comfort into his ear. As he felt himself begin to drift off, he imagined soft, white wings enveloping them both.

He was safe here, with Aziraphale.

He always had been.

(I sincerely hope the ‘Read More’ is working in the tags now, I’d hate for people to have scroll past all of this. If you did read it, thank you so much, and if you liked it, I’d really appreciate if you could leave a kudos here. Thank you again!)

[isolavirtuosa]

Starting Over (For Real?) 33-34

[fanfiction] NaruSasu

Read the previous parts here.

- 33 -

  “Fucking hell, Uchiha!” Sai yelled, genuinely angry as he followed me into the burning building.

I didn’t really like to do things by the book.  It had been yet another month with no progress into finding the mizukage, so the moment I had a solid lead on where the dissenting ninjas were being held captive, I set the place on fire.

Literally.

“Where are we even going?” Sai asked, his voice going quieter.  There could be hostiles listening.

“Right there, I think,” I said, pointing to the giant tree sprouting up in the middle of the hallway.

“Oh, right,” he said.  He pulled out a scroll and started painting.

Apparently not everyone had fled the fire, and two musket-wielding guards suddenly appeared, pointing their weapons at us.

“I’ve got you,” I said, throwing up flames around us.

Sai just continued painting.  He already knew I had his back.

The guards fired uselessly at us.

“Let’s go,” Sai said, jumping on the broad back of a long-necked bird that looked like something straight out of science-fiction.

I got on its back and we flew towards the first pod, slicing it down from the tree.  It landed on a ground with a thump.

“Try not to send them into the wall of flames,” Sai said cheerfully, balancing himself in a standing position and slicing down the next pod.

We worked quickly, cutting down more than ten of the pods, when something stopped me.  “That pod-” I started to say, even as the sound of an explosion ripped through my ears and pain ripped through my right shoulder.  It was a different color from all the other pods.  It was all I could think about as I fell to the ground.

“Sasuke!” Sai shouted, already disposing of the would-be assassin with a flick of his kunai.

I could see him flying towards me, but the edges of my vision were starting to black out.  I tried to focus on him, but it was like looking at something small at the end of a dark tunnel, barely visible.  My head was pounding.  Had I landed on it?  And my shoulder.  I hadn’t felt pain like this since…

Naruto, flying towards me, crackling with power.  His hand reached out, and mine to meet his.  Everything exploded in light.

The pain in my arm had been unbearable.  It was like I was being pulled apart.  Everything was white, then black, then white again, and when I woke up my arm was gone.  It was the price I had to pay, but Naruto’s arm was gone, too, and I just couldn’t understand why he would make that sacrifice.

“Because we’re friends,” he repeated, and this time it wasn’t good enough.

I needed more.

“When you hurt, I hurt,” he said, and I was faced with the inescapable realization that we were bonded together, brothers, a family, more than family, yet it was swallowed up by my weakness, my jealousy, my inability to love and be loved.

“It’s my loss,” I said, and I felt free.

Of course Naruto couldn’t leave it at that.

“Shut up, usuratonkachi,” I groaned, keeping my face turned away from him as a tear slipped down my cheek.

He was quiet then.

I thought we’d said all there was to say.  I could feel the last of my chakra fading away.  My rinnegan was starting to power down, and I could feel the rustle of something against my legs.

I was at peace as I drifted off into what I thought was death.

I woke up again on Naruto’s back.

He struggled to take each step, stumbling and almost dropping me.

“What are you doing, idiot?” I breathed out incredulously.

“If we just stay out there bakin’ in the sun, we’re gonna die,” he explained reasonably.

“How the hell are you even standing?” I asked.

“Kurama’s healing factor kicked in.”

“Then go ahead yourself and get help,” I said, trying to climb off of his back.

He held onto me stubbornly with his only arm awkwardly wrapped around my back.  “We go together,” he said.  “Besides, there’s no one to help.  Everyone’s been sucked up into the God Tree.”

“Sakura and Kakashi?” I suggested.

“I can’t feel them,” he said, shaking his head.

“Then why don’t we just release the seal?” I asked.

“Can’t until you’re powered up,” he said.

He wasn’t wrong.  My rinnegan was dead.

“What’s to stop the tree from pulling us in, then?” I asked, trying to take in our surroundings more carefully now that I was more awake and aware of the dangers lurking around us.

“Me,” Naruto said, stumbling forward.

He wasn’t kidding.  Any hint of the God Tree attacking and Naruto had me settled on the ground, chakra firing from his only hand in a matter of seconds.

I felt like deadweight.  “Leave me behind.”

“You’re the only one who can stop this whole thing!”

“If I die, the seal will be released anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“And what if it doesn’t work?!”

“You can Edo Tensei me back to life.”

“And who am I going to sacrifice to bring you back?!  Just stay alive in the first place!”

I pressed my face into his neck.

Naruto let out a sharp breath.

Neither of us said anything.

Naruto took another stumbling step forward.

Eventually, he got us to the water.  We both drank and drank, completely dehydrated.

I sat with my feet in the water, staring up at the destruction we’d wrought on the Valley of the End.

“How do you feel?” Naruto asked, coming to sit next to me.

“Still drained,” I said, tapping under my eye.

“If you could activate your rinnegan, you could take some of my chakra,” he said.

“I’m not taking your chakra.”

“You didn’t have a problem with it yesterday.”

“Yesterday we were fighting to the death.”

“Well now we’re fighting to the life.”

“That’s not a thing, idiot.”

“You’re the idiot who just wants to give up and die.”

“Hn.”

Naruto bumped me with his elbow.

I turned to give him a look.

He reached out suddenly, touching my cheek.

My look turned incredulous, even as my heart was racing.  Probably from all the blood loss.

“I can’t lose you again,” was all he said before standing up and stretching.  He then proceeded to stumble and fall in the water.

I don’t remember the last time I’d laughed so hard.

Naruto came out of the water sputtering, but then he went quiet.

I wiped at the tears that had squeezed out of my eyes from the intensity of my laughter.  “You are so dumb,” I said, unable to stop smiling.

He was in that freezing water in the middle of fall, gazing up at me like I was something precious.

“Maybe if we find some food my body will heal enough to start making chakra again,” I said, purposely not looking at him.

“Maybe,” he agreed, then splashed me with water.

I tried to blow him away with a katon without even thinking about it.  It didn’t work, of course, but I felt like I was flicking a lighter, and even though I couldn’t get the flame to catch, it was still sparking, almost there but not quite.

Naruto struggled to swim back to me with one arm, pulling himself out of the water and flopping on his back.  A trail of red followed him through the water.

“You’re not okay,” I informed him.

“I’m fine,” he said.  “Just have to release the jutsu.  Then we can go to the hospital and relax.”

I believed in Naruto’s ability to defy the odds, but I was pretty sure that we were going to die.

I should have realized that when Naruto improbably found us food and I was miraculously able to activate my rinnegan so that we could release the Tsukuyomi, all within a matter of a few short hours, that this really couldn’t possibly be real.

I remained blissfully ignorant for the next two years.

Of course, it was easy to be ignorant when I had everything I had never wanted to acknowledge that I needed.

Sakura, my sister, kept her distance as she was grappling with everything that I’d done to her.  When she finally said, “I forgive you,” it was more of a relief than I could have imagined.

Kakashi, the father figure, protected me from the Council and got me safe passage out of Konoha.

And then there was Naruto.  Naruto… kept touching me.

Even when we were still in the hospital, he was always sitting on my bed with his knee pressed to mine.  He was always leaning in too close to talk.  He was always brushing his fingers against the back of my hand.

As my trial approached, he seemed to get even more desperate, to the point that he was straight-up holding my hand.

“Naruto?”

“Mm?” he hummed, eyes closed as he lounged beside me.

“This is really gay,” I said, staring at the way his fingers curled around mine.

“So?” he asked defensively, eyes flicking open.

“So it’s gay,” I said.

“Do you have a problem with that?” he asked, holding my hand more forcefully.

“I’m gay, so no,” I said, the words just slipping off my tongue like it wasn’t my deepest, darkest secret.

“Well, I’m gay, too, so okay then,” he said, and I could feel the heat coming off of his palm.

My heart was hammering in my chest.  “You’re not gay,” I snipped.

“Um, I like you, and you’re a guy, right?”

The hammering seemed to increase.  “You’re not gay,” I repeated.  “Maybe you’re bi.”

“Why does it matter?” he asked, sounding annoyed.  His hand was full-on sweating now.  “I like you and only you, and that’s gay enough, isn’t it?”

It was the perfect amount of gay.  “You don’t like me like that,” I muttered, because of course I was never going to accept this logical fallacy.  Despite the fact that he was always making it blatantly obvious that he did like me like that.

“Sasuke.”

He was trying to get me to look at him, and he wasn’t going to win that game.  I continued to stare out the window, wondering what shade of red my face was.

We were still holding hands.

“Sasuke,” he repeated, the nerves apparent in his voice.  “Sasuke, please say something so I don’t feel like a total ass.”

“I’m not a miracle worker.”

“Sasuke!”

I squeezed his hand.  “…it’s gay enough.”

“Really…?” he asked hopefully.

“I like you,” I said quietly, shamed by the admission.

“I feel the same way,” he said like it was the most natural thing in the world, and then he leaned in and kissed me, and that was the beginning of the end.

Naruto left the village with me on that hot August afternoon, on a goodwill mission from the sixth hokage.  The accused criminal who traveled at his side seemed to undercut the mission, but I was too stupidly in love to notice.

I was in love.

With Naruto of all people.

I mean, deep down, I’d always known.

Still.

It was Naruto.

“Look, Sasuke, I made a fort out of ramen!”

Naruto.

I loved him.

I loved every minute of every day with this stupid idiot.

Then we met Kabuto.

Then we met Kabuto and…

“He’s waking up,” Sai murmured.

“I need to sedate him,” Sakura said.  “Give me a minute.”

I blinked blearily at Sai.  All I felt was firey pain burning in my shoulder.

“Hey, best friend,” he said.  “Don’t worry, you’ll be unconscious soon.”

I swallowed.

“Count back from twenty, Sasuke,” Sakura said, prepping a needle.

I wasn’t going to do that.

She stuck the needle in my arm.  “It helps.”

The pain made it hard to think.

Everything blurred together.

There were three of us after that.  We traveled together, dismantling the oppressive power structure as went.

The three of us, always together.

I never felt so complete.

It didn’t make sense.

It was wrong.

I ignored the nagging voice in the back of my head and clung to my happiness.  A feeling I hadn’t felt since I was a child.  Since my parents.

The relationship between Naruto and I was so comfortable that I didn’t even notice all of my weird sexual hang-ups.  He never seemed worried that I only did things to him.  It was normal.  He never pushed me to let him touch me.  Why would he need to do that?  Wasn’t he just the luckiest guy in the world that his boyfriend liked blowing him and didn’t ask for anything in return?  Naruto, who always gave and gave and gave, deserved to just receive and receive and receive, and of course he would have no problem with that.

Everything was perfect, but there were cracks, and they kept getting harder to ignore.

“I love you,” Naruto told me like always as we stood in the middle of the battlefield, covered in blood and sweat.  More of that blood was Naruto’s than should have been, and he was leaning on me heavily, barely able to stand.

The words came tumbling out.  “I love you,” I whispered back.  Just saying the words out loud left me exposed.

He kissed my cheek, then collapsed into me completely.

Our partner came up behind the two of us.

“Naruto, he’s…” I started to say, open and raw and ready to fall apart.

“I’ve got it taken care of,” he said, taking Naruto from me.

Everything would be all right.

Just that thought, and I knew.  The inconsistencies of this world were laid out in front of me when I let myself be at my most vulnerable.

I didn’t look at the sky for one year, because I knew what I would see.

One year to indulge in my impossible fantasy.

One more year with Naruto.

One more year with him.

And when the one year was over, I woke up.

“Hey, shhhh,” Sakura soothed me, pushing my sticky bangs from my forehead.  “You’re okay.”

My whole body was shaking.

“I got the bullet out,” she said, her fingers moving into my hair.  The gentle stroking motion relaxed me more than I cared to admit.  “You lost a lot of blood, and there was some damage to your blood vessels, but I think between Karin and I, you’ll be nursed back to health in no time.”

I looked at her.  “…thanks,” I finally said.

“You’re welcome, butthead,” she said affectionately.  She ruffled my hair, then removed her hand.  “Are you hungry?”

I shook my head.

“Okay, I’ll let you rest.”

“What about all the ninjas?” I asked.  “In the tree?”

“Well, your crazy fire kept them safe until Karin and Sai could pull them out.”

“The mizukage…?”

“Wasn’t there.”

I sighed and closed my eyes.

“Get some rest, okay?” Sakura said.  “Your body needs to recover.”

“Yeah,” I said, wanting her to just go and yet also desperately wanting her to stay.

I didn’t want to think about what I’d just relived.

I didn’t want to remember his soft smile the last time I saw him.

“I’ll meet up with you two in a couple of days,” he’d said, waving to Naruto and I as he disappeared into the sunset.

I ached.

 - 34 -

  “Fuck humans and their fucking weapons,” I grumbled as Sai fed me soup.

“You’re a human,” he pointed out kindly.

“I am a proper human,” I said.  “I use my own human-born abilities to fight and harm others, not some cheap parlor trick.”

“That sounds pretty specist,” Sai hummed.

“Good,” I said, opening my mouth and letting him feed me.  Every time I tried to raise my right arm, unbearable pain shot through my shoulder.  It basically left me a helpless infant (again).

“It’s not good to think that one group of people is superior to another group of people just because of the circumstances of their birth,” Sai reasoned, scooping the spoon back through the soup.

“Why not?” I asked.  “We obviously are superior, and yet we’ve been subjugated by this feudal system for years, using our superior abilities to serve the whims of inferior beings.”

Sai pushed the spoon into my open mouth.

I frowned at him and swallowed.  “And now they’ve just taken it too far.  Replicating God Trees to capture all the strongest ninjas and keep the weaker ones under their thumb.  Developing stupid fucking weapons that serve no practical purpose.”

“Well, the weapons seem pretty effective to me,” Sai commented.  “I mean, they took you out, so…”

“Do I look out to you?” I growled.

“A little bit, yeah,” he said, shoving the spoon in my mouth again.

I sulked.

“It’s great to see you passionate about something,” Sai said.  “It’s just, sometimes your passion gets a little… genocidal.”

I glowered at him.

“Like right now, I’ve dared to disagree with you about something and your obvious go-to is that you want to kill me,” he said.

“I don’t want to kill you.”

“Just maim a little?”

“Just maim a little,” I agreed, then sighed.  He was right.  ‘Kill first, ask questions later’ had been the strategy of my late teen years, and it had nearly been my ruin.

“Here, this is the last of it,” he said, holding the spoon out to me.

I opened my mouth and finished the soup.

Sai patted me on the head like a child and took the dishes out of the tent.

I stared at the door flap, waiting for him to come back.  I… wanted his company…?

“I have returned, Best Friend Sasuke!” he declared cheerfully, throwing the flap aside as he entered.

“Great,” I mumbled.

“See, you’re not even being sarcastic,” he said, sitting on the sleeping bag next to mine.

“Yes, I am,” I protested.

“I finished my new comic,” he said, pushing his notebook into my lap.

I took it, letting my eyes drift over the pages.

Sai, in his never-ending pursuit of a personality, had decided to draw a comic based loosely on his life.  It currently chronicled the adventures of “Kai” and “Kasuke” as they traveled through the “Land of Moisture”, looking for the “lakekage” with their two good pals “Sarin” and “Kakura”.  I made it sound derivative, but it was actually clever and well-drawn.  Sai had a good eye for chronicling what was happening around him, even if he had diarrhea of the mouth every time he tried to have an actual conversation with someone.

This issue wasn’t as funny as usual.  Kasuke got shot by a stupid musket and Kai was having a lot of sad inner monologues worrying about his best friend.

I looked at him.

He smiled.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

He let his face fall.

“I’m okay,” I said.

“Yes,” he agreed.  “Now you are.  But getting you to Sakura…”

“Thanks for saving my life,” I said.

He smiled a little at that, a more genuine expression.  “Every time.”

“Every time?” I repeated.

“Every time you’re in trouble, you know I will have your back,” he said, nodding solemnly.

“Yeah, I know,” I agreed.

“Can we share a bro hug now?” he asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t even move my shoulder?”

“I’ll gently do all the hugging!”

“No.”

“You really don’t like to be touched.”

“Rarely.”

“How do you and Naruto fornicate?”

“We don’t,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Um, Uchiha, I traveled with you two for months,” Sai said.

“So?”

“I shared rooms with you, I shared walls with you…”

“And…?”

“I walked in on you…”

I took in his genuine confusion.  I thought about trying to be honest.  Sai was always talking his confused sexuality out with me, so why couldn’t I do the same?

Because I was fucking Uchiha, that’s why.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, bringing the discussion to a close.

“Is it that only Naruto can touch you?” he asked.  “Because he’s your lover?”

I glared at him.

“You just seem anomalous, and since I use you as my guidepost of proper human behavior, I want to know if I’m learning something strange from you,” he said.

I breathed out long and loud.  “Yes, Sai, I’m weird.”

“How so?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know.

“I don’t like people in my personal space.”

“You let Sakura stroke your hair when you first woke up.”

“Do you keep a notebook of everything I do?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

“Of course,” he said, pulling out another notebook and putting it on top of his sketchbook.  “How else can I learn from you?”

“Stalking is creepy,” I informed him.

“And yet everyone you love stalks you, and you allow it,” he pointed out.

“Anyway, I was weak and barely conscious when that happened with Sakura.”

“I think you crave touch but are afraid of it due to past trauma,” Sai decided.

“What kind of nonsense psychobabble is that?”

“Just throwing out some ideas.  It seems the same with your lover, Naruto, as well.  Sometimes you want him near you, and other times you seem repulsed by his closeness.”

“Can you just drop it already?”

“But I want to understand…”

“Well, I don’t understand, so how are you supposed to understand?!” I snapped.

He looked at me curiously.  “But you always know everything.”

I looked away from his gaze.  “You know that’s not true.”

“Well you act like it,” he said.  “I admire that bravado.  If you believe in something, then it becomes truth.”

“That sounds unhealthy.”

“Oh… it does, doesn’t it?” he hummed, pondering it over.  “I never thought you were healthy, though.  Just cool and confident.  I mean, no one around us is sane, so it seems to me like being insane is what is normal.”

“Now you’re calling me insane…?”

“I do know about Revolution.”

I sighed.  Why did I have to be held accountable for all the ridiculous things I’d said and done in the past?

Sai studied my face.  “You actually regret it?”

I looked away from his knowing eyes.

“You usually stand by your convictions,” he commented.  “You’re always telling Naruto you were right to leave the village.”

“I was right to leave the village.”

“But you don’t think your plan to kill all the kages and rebuild the ninja world from their ashes was right?”

“Who’s to say?” I said with a shrug.

His look got sharper.  “There’s something else you regret.”

“You have plenty of regrets,” I deflected.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“Would you like to describe them to me in explicit detail?” I asked.

“I can try.”

“Really?  You don’t mind cutting yourself open and bleeding for me?”

“Well, if it will make your convalescence go more quickly,” he said.

“Okay, well, cut away,” I said, trying to gesture imperiously with my hand and immediately letting it fall back to the ground as pain shot through my shoulder.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he said.  “Oh, wait, you already did.”

My eyes narrowed.

“I guess lately I’ve been thinking about how many people I killed for what I thought was a just mission, but were really just the megalomaniacal dreams of a madman.”

Sai always knew how to jump right into things.  “You did what you did,” I said with a shrug.

“I took people’s lives,” he said, shaking his head.  “Now I wonder what it all meant?  Who did I kill and why?  I never thought to ask the questions, I just thought that if I accomplished the objective then the mission would be a success.  Now I can’t help but wonder… were they really criminals?  Were they really Konoha’s enemies, or were they Danzo’s enemies?  I… I’m starting to have feelings, and they’re not good ones.”

“That’s why it’s better to be dead inside,” I said.

“That’s true, because even if you can’t feel the good, you can’t feel all this bad,” Sai agreed.  “But then what’s the point of existing?”

“Also a very valid question,” I said.

Sai frowned.  “Best Friend Sasuke, that sounded vaguely self-harmy.”

“I’ve never self-harmed, Sai,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Sometimes I worry that you might.”

“Um, why?”

“Because we’re so similar,” he said, black eyes staring into mine.

“Sai…” I trailed off, not liking what I was seeing.

He forced a smile.

“Stop that.”

It drooped.

“I’m… here,” I offered quietly.  “Always.  I’m always here for you.”

“I’m here for you, too,” he said, holding his hand out to me.

I took it, giving him a very limp and limited-movement shake.  “What matters now is moving forward, not looking back,” I decided.

Sai was still holding awkwardly onto my hand.  “Maybe, but sometimes we can’t move forward without facing what we left behind.”

I pulled my hand away from his sweaty, awkwardness.  “Does saying it out loud make it any better?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head.  “Nothing makes it better.  But maybe it gets a little farther away.”

We were both quiet for a long time.

“I think-” Sai started to say at the same time that I said, “Itachi-”

Sai stopped talking, his mouth slightly open.

I slammed mine closed.

“Oh, Sasuke,” he said softly.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered, looking away.  “He was just in my dream world.  It’s stupid.  It’s nothing.”

“Oh, Sasuke,” he repeated.

“What?!” I snapped.  “Do you think I’m so stupid for being trapped in an illusion for years where my obviously dead brother was brought miraculously back to life by a forbidden jutsu and decided to travel with me and my pathetic crush while we went around the world trying to dismantle the ninja hierarchy?”

“Not stupid, just willfully ignorant,” he said.

My head bowed and I closed my eyes.  It felt too heavy to hold it up.

“At least your world actually had dreams and possibilities,” Sai said.  “Why did the rest of us all imagine such hopeless futures for ourselves?”

I swallowed.  Then I swallowed again.  I could feel it all boiling over, about the spill out.

Sai was suddenly clambering over my lap, pulling my head into his chest.

“Don’t hug me,” I ground out, trying to even out my breathing.

“I want to respect your wishes, but you need this,” he said.

“What do you know about what I need?” I growled, my voice cracking on the last word.  I swallowed again.

He just squeezed me tightly.

I made a very frustrated noise that immediately turned into a cry.  I stopped it, pressing my face into his shirt.  “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Sai said, starting to sway us side-to-side.  “None of us are okay.  And that’s okay.  But we have to express our emotions.”

I laugh-cried into his chest.  “Yes, you and I should express our emotions.”

“We should,” he said, resting his chin on top of my head as he continued to sway us.  “This feels really good.”

“Are you going to get confused about our relationship again?” I mumbled, sniffling a little but still not quite giving in to crying.

“No, this is definitely a Best Friends Hug,” he said, holding me close but in no way making inappropriate sexual innuendos.

I almost wished he would so I could yell at him instead of clinging to him, my arm curling weakly around his back and holding onto the hem of his shirt.

Sai stayed quiet as he rocked my shaking frame.

“He murdered my entire family and made me relive it over and over,” I whispered.

Sai bent his face in closer to mine so he could hear.

“I spent my whole life hating him,” I continued.  “I was going to kill him, no matter what.  And then he died and…  I was wrong.  I was wrong about my entire life.  But I couldn’t admit it, so I took that hatred of my brother and I put it on Danzo, and then he was dead, and I just took my hatred and put it on the entire ninja world, and it just never ends.”

“It doesn’t,” he agreed softly.

“If I could take back all that hatred… if I could have…  I just wish I still had my brother.  But that’s fucking crazy.  What he did…  But Naruto and I just traveled with him like it was nothing.  We just traveled together as a family and I’d never been happier in my entire life.  It felt like everything had fallen into place, and yet it was so improbable, and I didn’t want to see it but I had to see it, because there was no way that life could ever be like that.  Because life is pain and suffering, and we never get what we want.”

Sai tilted my chin up.

I blinked rapidly, trying to keep my eyes dry.

“I’ve never been happy,” he said.  “But for a while, as part of Team Seven…  I started to think that I could be.  And now.  As part of Team Sasuke.”

I rolled my eyes at the name and caught myself sniffing again.

“We’re going to make a world where people can be happy.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

“I don’t know,” Sai said with a shrug.  “But let’s give the world back its hopes and dreams.”

“You sound like Naruto,” I muttered.

“Wow, thank you,” he said, giving me a last, tight squeeze that felt so good before pulling away and sitting beside me again.

I decided not to think too deeply about all the stupid things I’d just said and let the comfortable silence wash over both of us.