#but if the point of failure is where it connects to the cardigan body it won't matter what cast on I use :)
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I'm a little late for WIP Wednesday but I haven't knit since Wednesday so it still counts right?
I have absolutely smashed this underarm portion of the back panel, on row 153/160 (95%!!!). However. My goal for the underarm length is 24 inches. And I'm currently at 22. T-T I will Increase My Total (168 will probably work but I'll report back when I have motivation)
I'm already looking ahead to the upper back portion, which will be about 64 rows based on my gauge. Plus a couple more rows for shoulder shaping.... I'm Actually on row 153 out of 238. 64% finished.
I'm usually a Process Knitter but this is very much a Product Knitter's project. I keep daydreaming about all the lace shawls I could be knitting (but never wear). But the Evil Pink Cardigan.... My precious...
#knitting#wip#wip not wednesday#lace rot#lace knitting#i lost the plot on this. i have been awake for so long#sadly we had a heat wave which caused my arthritis to flare something awful. I wanted to finish the underarm before posting#but alas it was not to be. my adhd ass hates nothing more than finally getting 100%. i have abandoned so many things at 95%#(plus like the full body aches but that's like life or something idk. chronic illness core.)#there's so many things i need to do for this cardigan. I still haven't blocked the second sleeve.#it's been below freezing and when it's not i'm in too much pain to do pinning. :/#I also gotta knit the pocket inserts. Linings? The Whole Ass Pocket#actually i typed that and then i checked and i have one half done. ok brain how did you not notice that#i'm knitting them in the round starting with judy's magic cast on.#but I'm kinda uhh apprehensive? that its going to wear out really fast. it would probably be better to knit two parts separately and seam#but if the point of failure is where it connects to the cardigan body it won't matter what cast on I use :)#I'm going to put in a semi permanent life line in the pocket (and probably in the rows right before and right after the opening)#and say fuck it we ball. when it develops holes i'll just replace it (and cry and scream and eat my yarn stash)
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Hi there. May I request a soulmate headcanons with either Eren or Ymir from SNK, please? (Gender neutral).
Author note : I’m really sorry it took me so long to write your request, I hope you won’t mind ! I tried to work as fast as possible but I was busy those days. Anyways, since you waited so long I’m writing for both of them ♡ Enjoy ! Let me know if you like it
Warning : Some spoiler from Season 2 and 3 / Fluffy / Angst ? I don’t know sad ending I guess
PS : For Eren’s part you can see this as a prequel from this headcanon. I wrote something at the end of each headcanon as I didn’t know how to headcanon this ??? Hope you don’t mind
i do not own those gifs credits to their owners
Masterlist
Eren Yeager
Since the last time he saw his dad, Eren started to have the same dream. After seing his Dad about to jabbed him, he was then on a city he’ve never been before. Eren was walking around looking for some familiar features but nothing, then he finds someone walking right in front of him.
He couldn’t tell why but he wasn’t able to see them properly, they were a little bit tinier than him, they looked disoriented as if they were just teleport in some place they didn’t know. He walked on their direction, maybe if you joined your force you could find where you were ?
Then he was about to reach them, they just turn around and walked as if they were running away from him. Eren just had enough time to grab their arm telling them to wait for him. They look right into his eyes, again probably because he was dreaming he couldn’t saw them properly but they were something about their face. They look sweet even calming, they smiled at him at least that’s what he thought and he couldn’t describe how mesmerized he was bout their smile. It wasn’t like his mum’s smile or Mikasa’s smile, it was something different it felt like home.
Then he woke up.
It was like this since he had to run away from Titans, since they …. Did what they did to his family. He always woke up his body covered with some sweats, but especially with the feelings of being empty. At first he thought he was still grieving from his mum’s death, from his failure against Titans.
But those feelings never left, even when he joined the military, he still at some point felt empty.
After couple of days of having the same dream, he decided to talk to Armin about it (he doesn’t feel like talking about this to Mikasa would be a great idea besides … It would be weird to talk about feelings with girl … Right ?). Unfortunately he wasn’t able to explain the reason behind his weird dream, Bertholt hearing their conversation decided to step in.
« What ? SoulMate ?
Yeah don’t you ever heard about it ?
Well never believed about it besides we are own master, no one should force you to love someone
It’s not about forcing anyone it’s about fate and what you deserve for your partner. Anyways, their no proof about it in addition you aren’t able to recognize anything about them so it’s probably stress »
Bertholt couldn’t be more wrong.
One day, after Keith fire some soldiers who he thought won’t be able to serve the army properly he decided to form some groups for a training.
The night before, Eren tried to focus about his « weird dream » to be able to remember anything about that feature who obsessed him. He wasn’t able to remember a lot of things but he did remember something : they got (Your eyes colors) and (your hair color) with that plus the same smile that was haunted him he should be able to recognize them. At least he hoped so.
Back to the training, Eren formed a group with Bertholt, Armin and You. You joined the military to take revenge from your family’s death, you were more than ready to fight against titans. Eren couldn’t explain why but swore he already saw you before, the way you were walking, the way your eyes were always looking for something to stare, your eyes. He questioned Armin about which he abruptly answered that you were always here
« No you don’t get it Armin that’s them
What ?
Remember my dream ? I’m sure that’s them
Are you really sure Eren ? I mean we never met them before your brain couldn’t create any feature without seeing them first. You probably find them attractive and you just juxtapose it with your blurred feature in your dream »
Bertholt teased Eren about it during the whole training, he always made sure him and you were parting for fighting.
You on the other side were kinda confused, you were sure to never talk to the man calling « Eren » but you swore you’ve dreamt about him. Lately you were having the same weird dream, walking around a city you barely know then meeting some brunette boys with gorgeous eyes grabbing at you and asking you to wait for him. Why would you do that ? You didn’t know him.
Anyway, it was just dream nothing to worry about.
So both of you keep your life going, unfortunately you never have the chance to talk more since you two were kinda busy working hard to become a better soldier.
Then Trost was attacked by the colossal titans, you didn’t expect fighting titans any sooner but you felt more than ready. You weren’t in Eren’s squad during this mission, but you did met him before running into your position. You two have eye contact during a couple of seconds, then you smiled at him, Eren felt like shivers running through his body he felt like a connection then he knew. He knew it was you since the beginning, but before he could say something you just walked away so he grabbed your arm telling you to wait for him. You knew.
« It was you right ?
What ?
From the beginning … It was you I saw you in my dream ! I-I saw you
I saw you too »
You turned around looking at him, confused like he saw you during his dreams. You sent him a smile, and he felt his body getting warmer, it felt home like he used to feel with his mum. Why did he feel that way with you ? Was it fate ? Slowly, his hands on your arm went down until he reached your hand. Instinctively, you entwined your fingers around him you couldn’t explain why but you felt one. As if during your whole life you were missing something.
Not knowing why both of you have a tear rolling from your opposite cheeks, you were sure to never meet you but somehow it felt like you’ve finally found what you were looking for. For what he felt like an eternity, you stare at each other breathing slowly until reality catch you and you have to take your hand away. Your hand went on his cheeks, stroking it as to wipe the tears away while he leaned into your touch. Your hands felt warm against his cheeks, he felt at peace for a couple minute it was as if Titans never exist, as if he never lost his mum.
« Don’t die Eren, i want to get the chance to see you again »
Then He took your hand away from his cheeks and hold it, his thumb was stroking your fingers. He won’t die, he didn’t understand his feelings yet but he wanted to get to know you better. He is not going to die, today while he always felt empty during his whole life he finally found what he was missing, he wasn’t going to lose it again.
« I won’t I’ll always find you »
He couldn’t wait to get to know you better.
Ymir
She never believed in Fate in the first place, she always grown up in place where fate doesn’t have his place.
She was always her master or at least that what she thought
She worked so hard to be the goddess people wanted her to be, but she got catch and the father she thought he was gave up on her for his survival. Then she still pretend to be the goddess for her believer. Again she made the wrong choice and was changed into Titans.
For sixty years she felt like a long a deep sleep, unable to do anything she just enjoys the warmth and let her body to the job. Her mind was broken they were nothing to do about it besides praying won’t save her.
Again, she was wrong.
One day she woke up, on landscape between times and spaces. Finally she felt at peace, finally she was free : She won’t ever had to work for anyone but her. Not being able to hold their tears she just let them go thinking she was alone.
But she wasn’t, indeed she felt someone walking into her direction and then standing behind her back waiting for something. Afraid that danger was coming, Ymir turned around quickly and jumped into that blurred feature, being on the top of them holding their arm with on hand.
Then she realized, she couldn’t see their face it was just a shadow shaking under her.
« The hell ? » She thought
That feature seemed quite fragile laying under her, when Ymir realized that shadow won’t hurt her she moved away from them. Then she saw them holding a cardigan and give it to her.
One look on her body, she quickly understood that you were here to give her some clothes since she was fully naked. She took it to dress herself but before she could ask your name you somehow disappear not before sending her a smile that make her shivers
Who are them ? And why does their smile make her feel warm ?
She couldn’t think much of it, cause she woke up in a world she didn’t know yet.
Ymir tried to live her life as selfishly as possible, but she met Historia the girl who shared the same past as her. Her smile, her kindness made her remember that shadow she previously met before she was born. She never believed in fate she thought she was the master of her own life, but she had to admit Historia had her way to fluster Ymir. It’s like she knew how to make Ymir loose her minds.
Ymir deduced that the shadow had to be Historia, there no way she couldn’t be it. She had the same past, she struggled with the same difficulty as her, she needed her as much as Ymir needed her.
Since Ymir heard about that child seeing as a bastard who had to disappear, she knew she had to find her back, she had to help her. They were linked by something deeper than life itself.
However, It didn’t erase that feeling inside Ymir’s chest, that feeling who made her feel empty as is she was missing bigger : How could she ? She found Historia she would work hard to help her. Why could she not be happy ?
Everything started to speed up, it seemed than one minute she was laying on a chair with Historia complaining about how bored she was and then she was there on the floor hurt as hell as she wasn’t even able to stand up. She finally confessed her dirty secret to the woman she thought would be her soulmate, she discovered about her true identity : maybe she would be finally in peace ?
Again, Fate doesn’t seem to be done with her. Before she could even realized, she was stuck into Bertholt’s back after he took her away from his Titans’ mouth. Eren was there too, unconscious he fought so hard because of Reiner because of the betrayal.
She never expected any of them to be a Titan, and honestly she couldn’t careless what’s matter to her always been Historia. All she could think about, as Reiner was talking about his true motive. Helping Eldias ? Leaving the wall ? Protection ? That’s it, that’s what she missed : she needed to find a safe place for a her and Historia, that’s all mattered to her. So she agreed, she followed Reiner and left the wall : she thought after leaving Historia, she could find a way to convince her to move with her. She couldn’t leave her soulmate or she’ll die right ?
But then everything started to shatter, after following Reiner she discovered she only had couple years left. Of course, she couldn’t be stupid enough to believe she could born again and have a lot of years to live. Historia never left her thought. Until she met you.
Ymir was still stuck into her jail wondering when she would finally die, when she first met you. You were an Eldian soldier, working with Zeke and Reiner your mission included watching carefully Ymir and be sure she’ll eat and drink enough. However, you couldn’t explain why but it seemed like you already met her before. You weren’t sure if it was a memory or just a feeling but you were familiar with that freckles of her. As you were walking into her jail you tried to remember when you could meet her : from what you knew, she used to live into that demon’s island so there no way you could have met her. You were putting her food right in front of her when you noticed her body shaking quite slowly, she didn’t have much clothes she should feel a bit cold into her jail. Since she never did something to bothering you, you took off your own coat and give it to her with a smile.
« That was you »
You moved your head into her direction, as she was looking at you with big eyes. Not knowing what do to do or say you just stare at her as she did the same : that was you ? What did that mean ? You never met her you were sure of that. But there is that dream, memories what ever that thing is : where she was here on the sand, she was crying her body was shaking from the lack of clothes, without a second thought you walked into her with your coat to warm her a bit. Before you could even notice she on you, your hands on your hands as her naked body was far too close to you. A minute a later she realized her mistake, and you could wrap her with your coat and then you woke up.
« What do you mean ? I’m sorry I don’t -
You were there when I woke up ? You wrapped me with your coat ! I know it’s you it as to be you otherwise …
Wait ! You mean it wasn’t just a dream ?
Do you often dream about naked woman on you trying to handle you ?
Well-
Don’t answer it »
You just chuckled and before you could noticed, you were crying or at least tears were running your cheeks as you felt finally complete. You were feeling both happy and sad at the same time. Ymir on the other side felt something quite different, she felt relief that Historia wasn’t her soulmate but at the same time there were definitely something between her two ; she felt sad to finally met what supposed to be her other half when she didn’t have much time left. That doesn’t fair, you shouldn’t meet her, you shouldn’t be her soulmate. She is dying, one day you would wake up and she won’t be there anymore someone would take her place. How could you live with that ?
« Does that mean-
It means nothing !
What ? But you were the one …
I lied okay ! You couldn’t be my soulmate i’m dying what would be the point of having someone who won’t last forever hun ?
Doesn’t that make it even more beautiful ?
Here we go, honestly you should left there nothing who worth it
I don’t think so, I know you won’t live forever but please … I’ve got the feeling I was looking for you since decades and I barely know you
Exactly you don’t know me why would you stay with me ?
Because I was there when you were born and I guess I have to be there when you would leave. I know that doesn’t make sense, but I always felt like something was missing and when I wrap you with this coat and … you looked at me I felt so complete for the very first time I felt like I could live properly. So please let me stay with you, we don’t have to be something we could just stay around »
You didn’t deserve that, that’s what Ymir thought during the whole time she was in jail. Everyday you came to be with her, you tried to talk, share a meal honestly you did everything you could do to lift her mood. You knew you couldn’t start anything with her, she had her life her friends and she already fell in love with someone. Quickly you learned about Historia, and even if you felt a bit jealous about her you also felt a sort of relief knowing she wasn’t alone the entire time. But you wanted her last moment to be perfect as most as possible. During your attempt to help her, Ymir couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky she was : she met Historia, she lived a life surrounded by people she could call comrades, no one ever judge her for something she wasn’t, and now, now that she was about to die she met you. Her soulmate, the people she looked after since the beginning of her new life, and that people was literally an angel to her. She wished she could have more time with you.
But in the end, she wasn’t the master of her own life. Fate had already planned since the moment she left that Titans. All she could do is to appreciate every minute with you and pray to another life with you. This time she would take care of you properly.
#aot#Attack on titan#Aot Eren#Aot Ymir#Eren yeager#Eren Jaeger#Eren Yeager x reader#Eren Jaeger x reader#Shingeki no kyojin#Snk#Ymir#Ymir x reader#eren#eren x reader#attack on titans#eren yeagar x reader#snk eren#snk Ymir#snk x reader#aot x reader#Eren jaeger x y/n#Ymir x y/N#Eren jaeger headcanon#Eren Yeagar headcanon
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Black Sun Tale | Ten Dollars
alright, here we go y’all
remember that this is a first draft and i’ve only barely edited it, but comments and reception is heavily appreciated!
(also @rhyseoshaughnessy because they said to) --- There is always a time in someone’s life that’s the lowest, it’s a given. Those who break down from their faults and failures, ones who are toyed with to the point of numbness, the occurrences are common to an individual’s extent.
However, ultimately the question is how to break away from the cycles, and it takes lifetimes for some to realize.
It all boils down to the differences in people and what they want to achieve in the end. Though for some that desire is left unknown, or they were left with no certain answers, including Oliver Holguin.
The day lengthened in time for Oliver by the early morning as per usual. His tired eyes slowly waking as he played through repeated melodies. Practicing throughout the nights, the song ringing out from the ukulele was beautiful to the ears. And as he continued onwards, his sight began to lighten up the bedroom.
“As lovely as you are, I will have to go,” He sang with whispers tickling his throat. His bed-hair blocked him from catching somebody in the corner of his eyes, though the light greeted him with a shelf of books and a tablet on a nightstand instead of the man.
The complicated tabs and chords flew by with his fingers. The ease of the song left him concluding his mastery. “I’m sorry to let you down.” He rung the last lyrics and strings leaving the room in echoing silence. Taking a moment of pause, he placed the ukulele back to the side. He stood up from his bed. His sore legs fumbled together to go and grab a charger. His tablet turned on to a low percentage once he connected the two together.
I need to stop using this at night, he thought while he searched for a tablature site. He pulled back his auburn bangs to read better, scrolling through lists of songs to learn. “… I need to find a new site too.” His voice croaked with soreness.
He sighed, letting the device charge. He stretched his joints in a yawn and walked out of his room. His left arm pounded asking for a scratch and reminded him to check the bathroom. The early morning traffic blasted noise through the apartment when he scavenged the cabinet filled with multiple vitamins and medicine.
His tiny arms tried to recognize the feeling of what he wanted, and he debated on just getting a stool considering his height. However, he finally reached what he was looking for and opened the cap.
Crap. The ointment cream container held almost nothing. “I have to get more before she finds out,” he muttered. His eyes stuck on the little bottle for seconds until putting it back in its place, ignoring his irritating arm, as well as his always ignored stomach.
***
Oliver sat on his living room couch, doodling on schoolwork and watching television. The velvet cushions pinched him by his skin in discomfort, though he’d been adjusted for years. Cartoons played on an overpriced T.V. as background noise with the occasional screech harming the boy’s ears. He worked with barely a care, only thinking once a question tugged his head hard. Eventually, to no avail he had to turn the entertainment off. What the hell is up with kid shows nowadays, he scowled.
Checking the clock, the arrows pointed to be ten in the morning. Oliver yawned. Twenty minutes of sleep couldn’t cope with boredom. However, from the amount of ‘good sleep’ he had gain from the past days, some rest could be assuring.
He laid down, resting his body to the cushions he sat on. His mind rang until it blurred, nothing will happen, right?
His heavy eyes shut in only half a second.
***
The sound of soft sizzles woke Oliver up. He rubbed his eyes, sitting up to see his mother standing in the kitchen across the room.
“Seems like you were tired?”
Smile, smile. “Yeah, I slept a little late last night by accident.” He scratched his head while forcing a chuckle.
She cut up vegetables from the counter, assuring him, “You know that’s alright. It wasn’t even a school night.”
The crunch of the plants getting cut up could be heard all the way from where Oliver’s mother stood. Oliver himself checked the time again to find the clock pointed only a half hour after five. Dear god that was a long time. “How come you came home early,” he irked.
“My last patient’s parents called in and said that she wouldn’t come today so my boss said I could take the rest of the day off. Hope she’s alright, though.” She placed her knife down to go and walked over to him.
“You’re talking about Lavinia, right?”
She sat with him. “Yeah, the one with her phone.”
Oliver eyed her, “Didn’t you say that she’s been starting to act weird?”
“Mhm…,” she drifted, “But you don’t have to worry about that,” she messed Oliver’s hair with her hands.
“Stop!” Oliver moved her hand away sluggishly, giving a warm smile to her satisfaction. Though her own chortles told him that he did all right.
She stood up again, shifting back to what she did prior. “So now that I’m back early, do you want to go somewhere?”
Oliver shrugged, “We can go out somewhere if you want, where do you wanna go?”
“Oliver, it’s your choice, not mine. Don’t you want to hang out with a friend from school?” She opened the refrigerator, taking out prepped meat. “Your teachers say you get along with them but you never mention anybody to me.”
“It’s fine, Mom. They’re just kind of…” He avoided her eyes, “people that I wouldn’t hang out with privately.” He tried to laugh it off though his mother’s eyes sent concern instead.
“Is this about Rowan and Ann? Because you know that that kind of stuff isn’t common-”
“Mom, that was three years ago, I barely remember it.” That’s a lie. “They aren’t the reason. Heck, I didn’t even get along with my class when I skipped a grade.”
“Well,” she placed the meat in a heated pan, “you’re almost eleven and you’re still cooped up in the house all the time.” The meat sizzled in the oil. The scent flowed through the air as they spoke.
“No, I’m not,” Oliver scoffs, “I go out to walk… sometimes at least.”
His mother clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “I have to check up on you more often.” Oliver’s eyes widened. “I’ll bring you somewhere later today after I get some paperwork done.”
The boy’s eyes lowered without facing her. “Thanks, but you really don’t have to bring down work. Uh, your patients really like you, don’t they?”
“But I should be taking care of my only kid, shouldn’t I-”
“They’ll miss you,” he interjected, squeezing his vocal tone to be reliable. “Besides, you can get more money to pay the mortgage here faster doing so.”
“Stop making smart words with me.” A click in the stove caught Oliver’s ears. “Anyways, food’s ready.”
After setting plates and utensils, they ate together in a plain table of shiny marble. The meat turned out to be pork chops, and the taste would have been mouthwatering.
“Ah, this came out perfectly. Hope you like it.” She beamed, taking another bite in the process.
Oliver cut off another piece, biting his lip. “Yeah, it’s great like always, Mom.”
“You really need to invite a friend over sometime,” she exclaimed. “It’s not fun only cooking for you and me.”
He looked down at the food, sighing, “No clue when that’ll happen.”
They went to venture through stores after lunch, only for Oliver asking to leave an hour in.
***
Oliver skimmed through video posts online, scrolling past multiple in his disinterest. Crying sweats sank through his skin, though he ignored the occasional occurrence. Chirps of his mother babbling at her friends’ calls echoed through the apartment like every other night while Oliver listened in the back of his head.
“No! Jamie, you’re getting the wrong idea,” she snorted. “He’ll bring someone home at some point… hopefully.” The sight of her crooked smile could be imagined by Oliver in a mere second.
The redhead placed his tablet to the side of his undone bed. A deep breath was enough to function himself, same went for staring at the dull ceiling.
His mind dimmed from his usual racing thoughts, taking time to go at a complete blank. His hearing and sight blurred spacing out. His eyes continued to close and open, the emptiness making it difficult to keep his eyes open wide. To stay awake, he raised his hand towards the ceiling, using any muscle he had to keep it up. The warm air of the heater blew against his arm and long-sleeve. With every joint and wrinkle on his fingers, all he could observe with thought was his skin, which had paled from his constant brown.
“Damn.” Oliver clenched his hand. The arm fell down as he hopped out of his bed to the rugged floor with his bare feet. The room was already heated for Oliver, though his decision was an exception to the discomfort. Picked up from an unused chair, the boy dressed himself in a crimson cardigan dangling down to his knees. As he fitted the oversized attire, he nabbed his tablet back to his hands and sat on the floor. “This’ll probably be better,” he slurred.
Reloading the site, a certain video caught Oliver’s eyes:
Alexa Katzmann Found Dead Indoors from Area Death. The thumbnail of news made Oliver’s eyes widen, his cold sweats rising as he clicked with doubt.
The reporter stated the repeated script about area deaths. Of course, nobody could find the real reason of the death like always. While the woman explained the exact story, the camera panned at the body. Alexa was about five as the news said, daughter of a celebrity, though they censored enough appropriately.
However, what played over Oliver’s screen made his heart beat faster, louder.
Alexa’s stomach had been ripped out, blood scattering all over against her clothes and pale skin. Everyone in the room stepped on the organs without realizing they were there. Nobody could see the same scene Oliver viewed.
He muttered to himself as the video continued to play, “No, no, no…” His breathing grew as his throat continued to burn from the air and panic.
“This is the first report where an area death has occurred indoors.” Stop saying anything. He stopped the video and tossed over his tablet as his mind raced for answers.
His scratched his arm over and over, his heart pounding over his ears to the point of needing to scream. “When?” He barely breathed out. “When did-? “
Oliver looked around his room. Now. He jumped at his ukulele case in a split second, unzipping it in barely any time. Fuck the ointment. He reached for an inner pocket, unzipping it until he heard a voice.
“You really do get scared quick, huh?” The voice stung obnoxiously, making Oliver pause and enter back to reality.
Oliver twisted his head, still shaking from the previous seconds. His mind already clicked together who it was, however. A taller figure stood right behind him, leaning against the wall with hands behind his back. The man’s messily styled hair and dirty trench coat brought more memory to who he was. The boy took a gulp before completely coming back to his senses.
“… Why are you here now, Vittorino?”
Vittorino shrugged, popping out of the wall and walking towards him. “I was bored. ‘Wanted to see what you were doing.” His dark eyes darted Oliver’s position. “I see you’re about to have fun,” he scoffed
“Shut up.” Oliver slammed his ukulele case shut. He crawled back over to his bed, turning back on his tablet and biting his lip. Of course, he’s here because of that.
Oliver continued to scroll around on his tablet, his heart still pounding loudly in his head. The screen grabbed Oliver’s attention completely.
“… You know,” Vittorino spoke after Oliver’s ignorance, “You really don’t ever go out.”
His smile could already be seen without looking. “And you mention this because?” Oliver sighed out, his head refusing to turn to Vittorino. He typed up a video to re-watch in attempt to distract himself later on.
“Because are you really going to be cooped up like some nobody?” His tone was readably different from previous conversations, from what Oliver noted. Expectations for what to come next jotted to more limited possibilities.
“It’s better like that.” No turn made again.
A grumble could be heard before a sudden, “Come on!” Vittorino appeared right to Oliver, the boy’s body flinched and turned in the process. “Enjoy life a little!”
Oliver’s shoulders lowered. “You’re being pretty persistent than normal.”
“Come on, Oliver.” Vittorino dug his hands to his pockets, a sly grin creeping through like always. “Let’s go. Just a walk with me is alright, right?”
Oliver’s eyes squinted, his mind boggling at the possibilities that could happen with the decision, considering the teen-nuisance that is Vittorino. “… Fine.” But just why would he want me to go, was the only question in his mind that moment.
After drudging out of bed and to the living room, Oliver told his mother that he was going off to a walk. Vittorino followed behind him but she made no comment, gladly telling Oliver goodbye without noticing the teen’s existence.
Obodo City was always a bustling mess.
The tourists running around, the teenagers crying over late trends and messages, the children hyper and shouting at the tall buildings and stores, even loud, annoying traffic that’s at a constant. Oliver paced through the sidewalks, crimson hood over his head as gusts of October winds blew before him. Buildings stood tall and jagged against each other that formed unimaginable shapes in the air. Balconies stood in neighboring apartments filled with laundry or autumn plants, some even blasting music while the owners took a cig. The sounds screamed at the boy’s ears while the scent of street food caught his nose easily. As Oliver’s instincts pressured him to take a bite of something, he refused, his teeth clawing at his lip.
“So,” Vittorino ignited the conversation, “How’s your day gone so far?” He took no look at Oliver and instead viewed the sites ahead, to Oliver’s bewilderment. The only thing up ahead were greyed alleys and crosswalks, similar to everything else in the city aside from the intense smoke in the area.
“… Have you been hungry lately?” The man snickered, snatching Oliver’s attention despite the rude comment.
“I just ate.” He stated, looking ahead himself, “The question wasn’t needed.”
“Just wondering,” Vittorino bent down to Oliver’s height, still walking, gleaming by Oliver’s sour expression.
Oliver’s sight of Vittorino disappeared as his figure jumped up in front of the boy in a blink. “You have to admit,” Vittorino said, wrapping a stop sign around his arm. “This city really is awesome to look around in, right?”
“I’ve been here for the past ten years of my life, Vittorino. Best that can happen is controversy protests and holiday decorations.”
“Really? What kind of stuff do you guys decorate?” Vittorino’s brows risen up, curiosity almost purring from him.
Oliver walked passed him as the crosswalk glowed green. A small crowd surrounded him as he shrugged. “Lights for the most part, nothing special.”
Vittorino appeared right next to him. “Sounds nice.”
Silence covered both of them. Oliver pondered over Vittorino’s past actions as Vittorino turned all over to view the sights of the city. Oliver followed him though the teen stared aimlessly at such miniscule of things. A tiny convenience store barely seen by a tall building and a worn-down restaurant included. Someone older than him being intrigued by such things made Oliver question his identity more than before.
Entering a cleaner street, Oliver queried, “Vittorino?”
“Hm?”
“What do you have to do with Faustus?”
The man with the trench coat stopped at his steps. Oliver took a gulp down his throat.
“Who’s Faustus,” he pondered.
“You know who I’m talking about,” Oliver spatters, “Emo kid, probably sixteen or something by now. Pale skin, white hair, blue eyes but he never shows one of them?”
“Oh! I know who you’re talking about now.” He sneered, “That isn’t actually his name, you know.”
“I figured,” Oliver murmured. “But aside from that, you have something to do with him, don’t you?”
“And what makes you think that?”
Oliver threw his hands forward. “Nobody except for me can see both of you! That’d be obvious enough.” He crossed his arms. “But you both are weirdos out of anybody that I’ve ever met.”
“That’s rather judgmental, isn’t it?”
“I’ve been trying to figure out who Zach is and where the hell he went since I was seven. I barely had any kind of way to figure out until you started popping up in my life.” Oliver’s unfastened hood flew out from the wind as he turned his sight to Vittorino’s eyes. He pleaded with brows furrowed, “Just tell me how you guys are related and why you both are really here in the first place.”
Vittorino’s mocking expression deepened. “Well, I guess I can admit one thing.”
“And that is…?”
“You can say that I’m hanging out with you for two favors,” He raised two fingers down to Oliver, lowering one quickly after, “but one of them is for ‘Faustus’.”
“What was the favor for?” Oliver’s head drifted to the side.
“One of them was more of an assignment out of anything, actually, but the other was so I could get some favors back.” Vittorino leaned by on a sign pole. “The one that wasn’t from the guy was basically just to check up on you from time to time. The assignment I can’t really tell. It’s about to be done though.”
“I swear to god, if you’re gonna screw me over somehow-”
“Don’t worry,” Vittorino rolled his eyes, “It’ll be beneficial for you.”
Oliver shook his head. “I don’t trust that at all.”
Vittorino chuckled and shrugged. “Fine then.” He stepped towards Oliver, slamming something to Oliver’s chest.
Oliver coughed at the impact, but caught the item he handed. He opened his hands to find a ten-dollar bill. Turning to see Vittorino, he already found the mystery to be walking away from him. He dashed to catch up with him. “Where’d you get this?”
“I asked a guy and he just gave it to me.”
“But nobody can see you…?”
Vittorino lifted a finger. “I can be seen if I want, I just usually hide myself for the sake of it.” He dumped his hands into his pockets. “You needed ointment, right?”
Oliver tensed. “Yes…” he nodded, guilt building up inside of him again.
“Go buy some then. Get extra stuff if you want,” Vittorino told. “Have fun, kid.”
He was gone before Oliver could say anything. The red-head was left alone in the street. He looked back to his hand, covered over by a single bill. Pulling up his sleeves, he stared blankly and sighed, a small puff of cold air seeping out of his breath.
“Might as well.”
-
Next >>>
#my writing#writing#writeblr#writblr#writers on tumblr#black sun tale#chapter 1#gore warning#blood warning#implication of self harm#all are kinda minor but just pointing it out#bst oliver#bst vittorino#here we go yall
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Since I see you are open to taking prompts based on season 3, I have always wanted to see a full role reversal monolith takes Fitz instead of Jemma and he gets to know a pretty young astronaut and the fallout from all that.
Hi Anon,
I’ve done a few Maveth/Role Reversed AU’s over the years now. And took this prompt took in a different direction because I’m not going to do the Space Rando thing…rather I went more with a Role Reversed what should have been.
I hope you still like it.
Not for the first time in the weeks possibly months now since he’d been brought to the planet Fitz woke up with his entire body aching and head pounding. What was new was the cool stone floor beneath him.
Fitz slowly opened his eyes to get stock of his new surroundings. The last thing he’d remembered was going to investigate a sound near his makeshift campsite and falling into a hole. As if his luck hadn’t been rotten enough.
As the area around him came into focus he realized not only was he in a subterranean cave but a cage as well. In all the time he had been here he hadn’t come across another living things save for the monster plants he hunted in the water.
“Way to go, Fitz,” he muttered to himself. “It’s not enough a bloody rock eats you after you ask Jemma out to dinner but you have to go and get yourself captured as well.”
Fitz pulled himself to standing and shook the sturdy bars, cursing that whoever had built it had done it to last. He thumbed the ropes that held the bamboo-like logs together and figured he could cut through it with the knife he’d made not long after arriving.
He reached for the bag he’d fashioned out of his cardigan and to his horror realized it was gone.
“No,” He muttered looking around the cage finding no sign of it.
It had been awhile since he’d properly cried but realizing the bag was gone caused the tears to well in his eyes and him to slip to the floor. The small bag not only containing the weapons and tools but the last connections he had to home. The sweater a gift from his mom that had become one of his favorites and the phone inside. The phone had his notes but even more importantly it had Jemma.
Pictures, her voice, and it was his hope. His reminder of what he was fighting to get back too. After all, they had a date.
“Do something, you coward!” Fitz shouted moving back to the bars and shaking them.
Fitz thought his screams had fallen on deaf ears and was about to try again when he heard shuffling coming from the tunnel leading into the room.
He took a cautious step back as the humanoid looking figure appeared in the doorway.
“Your human!” Fitz exclaimed as the man stepped into the light.
He looked to be about Coulson’s age, hair and trimmed beard more grey than black. He wore the remains of a tattered flight suit, Fitz noting NASA symbols and the name a mission he didn’t recognize the agency ever launching. Fitz’s bag was slung over his shoulder, the phone in his hand. The man’s eyes were dark and were studying Fitz just as intently.
“You’re real,” he countered. His voice gravelly and gruff from disuse.
“Of course I’m real,” Fitz snapped. “Now let me out of this bloody birdcage and give me my phone back.”
The man looked down at the device but didn’t move. Fitz forced himself to take a breath because losing his temper now wouldn’t get him anywhere aside from locked up longer.
“My name is Leopold Fitz but go by Fitz. I’m a scientist and engineer with Shield, I was brought here through a rock we were studying in the lab I think three or so months ago. I mean you no harm.”
“My name is William Daniels but go by Bill. I’m a United States Air Force Pilot turned astronaut with NASA and the Distant Star Mission. I came here with the mission to map the planet, search for signs of life, and establish a more permanent portal. Based on the date on your phone I have been here for fourteen years now. I mean you no harm.”
Once he was done Bill walked over and opened the door to the cage and offered the phone back. “I’m sorry for locking you up. I had to be sure you weren’t IT.”
Fitz raised an eyebrow and gratefully took his phone. He took a second to activate it long enough to see the picture of Jemma he’d made his home screen. Her smiling face bringing a small one to his own for a moment.
Satisfied it was okay he turned his attention back to Bill. “IT?” He questioned.
“IT,” Bill confirmed. “It’s a creature that lives on the planet. Over the years I have come to suspect it was the real reason for our mission.” He paused again and looked around the makeshift prison. “Come, this isn’t the place to be having this discussion. I have rations that aren’t the best but I imagine better than whatever you’ve been managing to scrounge up on the surface.”
Fitz’s stomach answered for him as it let out a small growl. “Lead the way.”
————————————————————–
Weeks Later-
Fitz sat just away from the hatch of the bunker his phone clutched in his hand. It had been months since he’d been ‘captured’ by the older astronaut and after hearing his story had they began working together on a way to get home.
Bill had been trying for years tracking everything he could think of from the moons, stars, to the portals when he saw them. Every time the way home out of his reach.
NASA had also sent him with ample supplies from rations to an antiquated computer system Fitz had spent ages rewiring. Once they were booted again Fitz would be able to run the final calculations and pinpoint when and where the portal would open.
However, since the means to power the cells had been solar generators, a planet that never saw the sun meant that one the reserves were gone all those years ago they couldn’t be coaxed back to life.
Until now.
Fitz looked down at the phone in his hand and allowed himself to go beyond the home screen. Something he hadn’t done in ages, not since he’d sat down with Bill one night to show him his friends and the infamous Jemma that Fitz never stopped talking about.
Bill had quickly taken Fitz under his wing as the pair settled into working together. He’d protect him while they were away from the bunker, made sure he ate and stayed hydrated when he got lost in the work, and offered a shoulder to cry on when the frustration and separation became too much. They spent hours talking about their lives before being brought here and their plans for when they got home.
He ran his finger longingly over Jemma’s face. “Hey Jemma,” he said quietly before he opened up his voicemail and hit play on the last one he’d received only a matter of minutes before he’d been whisked away.
“Fitz!” Jemma’s voice said coming over the speakers. Simply hearing her voice again causing his eyes to water. “Skye found out we were going on a proper date and drug me back to her bunk for what she is calling a proper outfit…Skye no that is far too short…so I’m going to be a little late. I’ll meet you in the garage as soon as I can get away.” She paused for a moment and there was the sound of a door closing. When she spoke again her voice was softer as if she didn’t want Skye to overhear. “I really can’t wait Fitz…I”ve been wanting to do this for a long time. See you soon.”
Fitz had been so lost in the message and looking at her picture that he didn’t notice Bill approaching until he sat down next to him. He’d heard Fitz play that message so many times that he had it memorized himself.
“You don’t have to do it,” Bill said as he placed a supportive hand on Fitz’s back. “We can try doing the calculations by hand again. I know how much this means to you and I don’t want you to lose it.”
FItz didn’t take his eyes off her picture.
“It’s the only way to power the computers and get the portal’s location,” Fitz said with a wavering voice. “The portal gets me back to her and get you home too.”
Bill pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and laid it on Fitz’s knee. “You won’t have to give everything up,” he said smoothing out a beautifully drawn picture of Jemma, nearly a perfect copy of the picture. Fitz felt his own voice fail him as he tried to express his gratitude for such a kind gesture.
“Why don’t we have one more listen too,” Bill said.
“One more listen,” Fitz agreed as he hit play again
Once the message ended he closed the home screen for the last time and rose. “I’ll see you soon Jemma.” Determined now more than ever to get back to her.
————————————————
“Fitz!”
“Jemma!” Fitz screamed into the sandstorm whipping around them as he tried to fight his way to where her voice was coming from.
Their first attempt to get through the portal had been a partial failure, the opening across a canyon they knew the wouldn’t be able to cross. But they didn’t let the opportunity pass them by. Bill shooting a message in a bottle through that was full of not only letters to their friends and family but contained many of their own notes as well.
“Jemma!” Fitz screamed again and clutched at Bills sleeve. The other man on alert with his gun drawn looking for any sign of IT.
“Fitz!” her voice came again and Fitz found it was coming from the bottom of the hill they were atop. Not far from where the flare had lit up the sky just hours before.
“There,” Fitz shouted and pointed through the storm. Only to have his stomach drop when a dark cloaked figure caught both of their attention. IT steadily walking through the storm that it had created, towards them…
“Fitz!”
Towards Jemma Fitz realized in a panic.
“Go,” Bill said as he pushed him back.
FItz grabbed at his sleeve again to pull him along. Shocked when Bill pulled away. “We have to go!” Fitz insisted “Now!”
“I’ll hold it off, you go” he said raising his weapon at the oncoming monster.
“No, I can’t just leave you here, not after all this,” Fitz said hearing Jemma call his name again. He knew time was running out for all of them.
Bill smiled kindly and placed a firm hand on Fitz’s shoulder “I’ve lived my life now go live yours with Jemma. Let me do my part in stopping that thing from ever getting to earth.”
Fitz was ready to argue again when Bill suddenly moved and shoved Fitz down the hill.
The engineer cried out as he rolled down the dunes while a gunshot rang out as he hit the bottom.
“No!” He screamed looking to the top, hopeful that Bill would have shot the beast and chosen to follow. But when his friend didn’t appear he knew time was slipping away. The portal wouldn’t stay open forever nor could they risk the creature making its way to it.
“Fitz please!” Jemma cried again her voice cracking in emotion.
“Jemma!” he called again and he forced his battered and exhausted body into motion as he ran to her through the storm.
It took a few more agonizing seconds before he could make out a figure in the haze. “Jemma!” he called again as she whipped around, a beautiful smile lighting up her face.
She ran to him and tackled him to the ground with the force of her embrace. FItz pulled her tight and nearly lost her when she was pulled back without warning.
Fitz clutched to her as hard as he could as the rope attached to Jemma’s waist pulled the both back. Each one getting cuts and bruises as they were drug across the rocks. Jemma somehow managing to twist and get part of the line wrapped around his arm and securing him to her.
She wasn’t going to lose him again, not now, not when she was so close to getting him back.
“Hold on,” She said as the portal came into view and the darkness enveloped them both.
———————————————————–
Three Months Later-
They stood hand in hand in the meadow as the sun began to peak over the horizon.
“Are you ready?” Jemma asked quietly.
Fitz closed his eyes and allowed the sunlight to wash over him. Even though he had been back for months he didn’t think he’d ever take for granted soaking up the warm rays ever again.
“I’m ready,” he finally said and reluctantly let go of her hand to pick up the metal box he had brought with him.
“In Remembrance of William Daniels” etched onto the lid and its contents the few items that Fitz had on him when he was brought back from Maveth.
Carefully he laid it into the ground taking a moment to say thank you one last time to the man that had helped get him home and given his life in the process. When Fitz was done Jemma took her turn laying a rose on top of the box.
“Thank you,” she whispered forever grateful to the man she would never meet.
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Name: Hyunbin | DZ-34 Shifter Form: A monstrous amalgamation of Zeraora, Hyunbin’s fur is a dull blue with yellow highlights, an inverted color palette of the original god. Small spikes protrude down her spine, and she has a tail she cannot retract in her human form. Appearance: In her human form, Hyunbin is a small woman with dark, messy black hair with a yellow highlight between her scalp. Her fingers are tipped with sparking claws, and has bright yellow tattoos of Zeraora’s pattern on her lower arms, which she covers by wearing baggy clothing such as hoodies. Her blue tail extend out from her pants, a bit too obvious to be easily tucked into or hidden. She wears a loose, broken shock collar around her neck, the circuitry slightly too complex to be easily removed, and often looks tired or defeated. On the small of her back, not unlike Hakjoo and Gojoon, there is a tattoo of Destiny Liminal along with her designation of “DZ-34″. Personality: Aggressively distrustful and difficult, Hyunbin is understandably wary of any advances and she tends to overcompensate with arrogance or hostility, but she is protective of her fellow experiments being one of the only clones that managed to inherit their memories. Hyunbin laments her lost fate, as well as the fate of her original (who would most likely be dead), and while she craves to return to her “previous” life, is uncertain if she can or even deserves it at this point. She is however fiercely loyal and devoted once you earn her trust, however, and she will go to great ends to ensure nobody else experienced the same fate she had. History: Originally conceived as a joint Greek-Korean project, the 34th specimen of Project Destiny Liminal began life in a glass tank as a study of a human consciousness being forced to bond with the essence of a god instead of being Chosen as fate would decree. A corrupted clump of fur borne from Zeraora’s travels was procured, and the DNA of an unfortunate residential doctor was then bound to it before the subsequent “egg” was incubated. Many such specimens before DL-36 would’ve perished before hatching, or become stillborn- those who survived grew into irrevocably insane individuals that needed to be put down, unable to handle the sheer power of gods coursing through them. DZ-34 was one of such failures.
DZ-34 was tortured for six years in her confinement with rapid growth until she was eventually “released” for a swift death due to severe necrosis slowly destroying the cloned body’s form. In her escape, she caused severe property damage and endangered the lives of civilians due to the high speed of her movement and manipulation of plasma to ensure she would not be pursued as much as possible, and this eventually culminated in her being hurled in an arena intended solely for the godborns and a certain cyborg bird, falling in with Monarch Acquisitions after their survival.
After doing her research with the memories she’d inherited, DZ-34 reverted to her original name of Hyunbin, intending to keep her current form from perishing as much as possible. She’d become friends with the sympathetic Dawnbringer Joonhan in the process, along with a fellow project DA-41, and the three of them ended up riding off towards the small town of Byeonsan in the hope of answers and a cure for them both. Powers: Hyunbin is able to conduct and dispel electricity by extending and retracting her claws rapidly, and thus form either a barrier of static electricity around herself or accelerate her speed to seem as if she is “teleporting” through rapid bursts of electrical force to propel herself forward. She can also generate powerful magnetic fields through her paw pads, and punch with electrically charged fists to cause as much damage as possible. Immortal/Semi-Immortal?: Mortal Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Other: -
Name: Hakjoo | DU-31 Shifter Form: A monstrous amalgamation of Urshifu’s Rapid Strike form, Hakjoo’s body is a uniform brick-red form with white patterns along with an additional barbed tail to inflict additional damage with, and even in his human form retains the back paws of the god’s form. Appearance: In his human form, Hakjoo is a slightly plump man with shortly cropped black hair- he also wears a bandana with both ends extending down his back similar to his shifted form along with a set of metal gauntlets that protect his fists and dispense muscle relaxants. He’s usually clad in a red track jacket with a white collared shirt emblazoned with the symbol of Monarch Acquisitions underneath, along with track pants. Hakjoo usually doesn’t wear shoes due to his paws, and tends to keep his hands in his pockets while conversing. On the small of his back, just like Hyunbin and Gojoon, there is the symbol of Destiny Liminal on it along with his designation of “DU-31″. Personality: Surprisingly easygoing and relaxed about his lot in life, Hakjoo is usually the mood maker of matters and takes most things into his stride. Being completely amnesiac hasn’t dampened his spirit in wanting to help others, and he carries the flag of Monarch with pride. Most of the time, he’s willing to go with the flow and see where it takes him, and approaches his potentially restored memories with trepidation and fear. He is entirely devoted to his two brothers Sungwoo and Byungeun, and his unwavering fate in them is both his strongest trait and his undoing as he aids them in their exploits without question. Close friends with Hana, a fellow experiment, he rolls with every suggestion she comes up with as well, and they often are partners-in-crime for questionable exploits. History: Originally conceived as a joint Greek-Korean project, the 31st specimen of Project Destiny Liminal began life in a glass tank as a study of a human consciousness being forced to bond with the essence of a god instead of being Chosen as fate would decree. A corrupted clump of fur borne from Urshifu was procured, and the DNA of a domestic abuser was then bound to it before the subsequent “egg” was incubated. Many such specimens before DL-36 perished before hatching, or become stillborn- those who survived grew into irrevocably insane individuals that needed to be put down, unable to handle the sheer power of gods coursing through them. DU-31 was one such failure.
Created to be the most erratic and violent of the projects, DU-31′s observations grinded to a halt when he hatched with no memories of his previous life or any of the aggression they’d expected him to have. Due to his rapid growth in the incubator, DU-31 also started experiencing signs of muscle stiffness and paralysis, which meant that he was unable to execute the fighting style the scientists wanted of him. DU-31 was immediately abandoned in a junkyard, lost and confused about where he’d needed to go next, and was eventually picked up by a scavenging Sungwoo, who sensed potential in the amnesiac boy that was struggling along.
Adopted into the family, DU-31 was christened “Hakjoo” after a heated discussion by the rest of Monarch, and he eventually became trained in covert operations to assist Monarch in information gathering and resource procurement, both items that he tackled with aplomb. He was also outfitted with his gauntlets to allow him to overcome his muscle weakness and fight better: but when a battered Hyunbin showed up, Hakjoo found out that he was in fact an experiment as well, and now has to confront his own past. Powers: Hakjoo’s endurance is significantly enhanced to superhuman levels, and he is able to deflect even missiles with his flowing style of combat. He is also able to shatter any kind of protective gear effortlessly and know exactly which points to hit for maximum efficiency to prevent drawn-out combat, a skill he uses to his advantage in a fight with close quarters. While fighting hand-to-hand, his movements are also fast to the point of being unseen: you wouldn’t even know you’d been hit. Immortal/Semi-Immortal?: Mortal (?) Alignment: Neutral Good Other: -
Name: Gojoon | DA-41 Shifter Form: A monstrous amalgamation of Zygarde’s form, Gojoon morphs into a form that is completely white with grey scales, and his various forms all seem to have patches of scales missing more than anything. Even in his human form, Gojoon’s eyes are hexagonal scales and has scales patterning his arms. Appearance: In his human form, Gojoon is a tan, lanky man with hexagons patterning his limbs and back as if tessellated. He’s usually clad in a long sleeved cardigan and baggy pants to avoid rubbing against the scales too much, along with comfortable, easy to wear sneakers. On the small of his back, just like Hyunbin and Hakjoo, he has a tattoo of the symbol of Destiny Liminal along with his designation of “DA-41″. Personality: Gojoon is sensitive and intelligent, a direct foil to those who’d created him. Artistic and creative, he tends to see the best in everything he does, and tends to wax lyricals about all that he pursues. Devoted to his cause, however, and often fraught with headaches due to his somewhat passive ability, his pacifistic nature has started seeing a shift in something more violent and defensive than his usual evasive style. History: Unlike the others who were incubated from eggs, Gojoon was simply kidnapped and spliced forcibly with Zygarde’s DNA in a bid to silence the man after he’d taken photographs of a restricted zone he shouldn’t have access to. After being observed and simply showing no abilities, he was branded, then cryogenically frozen for a year to announce his failure, but was eventually unearthed by a scavenging Hyunbin and curious Joonhan (who was shocked to see his friend of 10 years completely corrupted).
After escaping and restoring Gojoon’s body after being frozen, the trio fled further into the Six Wyverns Museum, where Joonhan connected with the artefact Magearna, who was presenting as a woman named Goeun. Under Goeun’s protection, they eventually made their way towards Pungdo to stop by, and that was when Joonhan found out that Gojoon at this point was functionally blind and suffered constant migraines from his ability being constantly active.
Left with little choice, the trio eventually began heading towards Byeonsan, hoping to find clues to solve their condition before it was too late. Powers: Gojoon is able to passively see through illusions and hidden walls using his new eyes, at the expense of his actual vision. He also is gifted with seismic sense, which he can use to upturn the terrain around him or cause heavy damage. He is also able to gather strength from the surrounding terrain to shift into increasingly powerful forms to devastating effects, though he has not seen the need to use it just yet. Immortal/Semi-Immortal?: Mortal (?) Alignment: Lawful Neutral Other:
Name: Hanna | DG-30 Shifter Form: Hanna’s form appears to be a monstrous amalgamation of Zapdos at first glance: a flightless variant of the thunderbird god with orange feathers and powerful legs. Oddly enough, with no side effects typical of a Destiny Liminal experiment, people are beginning to suspect that Hanna’s body might’ve actually developed a new variant of Zapdos than became mutated... Appearance: In her human form, Hanna is a thin woman with orange-streaked black hair not unlike her shifted form. She lacks arms, and is often dressed in various comfortable graphic T-shirts or track outfits with the sleeves cut off entirely. She usually wears a pair of track pants to cover most of her legs alongside steel-toed boots with holes cut in their sides to extend her claws if needed and deal devastating kicks with maximum damage. On the small of her back, Hanna has her designation of “DG-30″ tattooed on it, but oddly enough does not have the tattoo of Destiny Liminal above it, instead sporting a strange symbol of a crown that she’s yet to decipher or understand. Personality: Adventurous and spontaneous, Hanna bounces from quest to quest excitably in her insatiable need to live life to the fullest. Fiercely defiant of her lot in life, she rarely stays in one place in a time to satisfy her wanderlust, what prompts her to return to Pungdo constantly is the existence of her fellow experiment and partner-in-crime Hakjoo, and she’s often seen checking in with him or bumming off Monarch’s resources for her own purposes. She acts recklessly and often against direct orders of her “father” and handler, Sungwoong, more a chaotic force with no allegiance than the enforcer she’s expected to be. Despite her carefree and often standoffish nature, Hana does care quite deeply about her friends and Pungdo itself, hence her willingness to become a scout for them and serve the homeless as befitting her father’s pathos. History: Originally conceived as a joint Greek-Korean project, the 30th specimen of Project Destiny Liminal began life in a glass tank as a study of a human consciousness being forced to bond with the essence of a god instead of being Chosen as fate would decree. A supposedly corrupted feather borne from Zapdos was procured, and the DNA of a task force analyst was then bound to it before the subsequent “egg” was incubated. Many such specimens before DL-36 perished before hatching, or become stillborn- those who survived grew into irrevocably insane individuals that needed to be put down, unable to handle the sheer power of gods coursing through them. DG-30 was one such “failure”.
A pure coincidence for existing, DG-30 had emerged stable and sane: but due to the strange nature of the Zapdos feather they’d recreated her with, she had tiny wing-like arms that were entirely nonfunctional and eventually amputated. After observations of her growth yielded no development whatsoever, she was eventually sold to the first prospective buyer: the eventual mayor of Pungdo, Sungwoong, who was immediately interested in the feisty and curious woman he’d now acquired. Taking the name “Hanna” to distinguish herself from the person she shared the memories with, she worked closely with his children and retainers, establishing Pungdo in the process and following them to the new country when it was completed.
From this, she soon bonded with the equally misunderstood Hakjoo, who suffered similar problems as she did, and when she found out he too was unknowingly from Destiny Liminal, she’d been the one to blurt out the news to him and suggest he pursue his own happiness to figure out who he truly was. Travelling alone through the surrounding areas of Pungdo to aid in expansion efforts, she’d discovered a tundra filled with enhanced mushrooms reacting to the power spots Taeoh had set up to power Pungdo (after electricity was cut off by the South Korean government to flush them out), and after bringing a single specimen to her best friend, she realised the mushroom reacted to him... Powers: Hanna’s endurance is enhanced to superhuman levels, and her legs are exceedingly powerful: allowing her to execute devastating kicks and jump a significant distance. She is also able to run extremely fast by channelling electrical impulses to her legs to increase her speed, though this often burns her out faster than executing single long/high jumps or kicking others. She is also able to fly after taking a running start, propelling herself in the air with cycling motions or manifesting her wings to steer herself. What is unique in Hana’s endurance is that her strength grows the more damage she takes, as if the adrenaline overcompensates for her. Immortal/Semi-Immortal?: Mortal(?) Alignment: Chaotic Good Other: -
#korean shifters#project destiny liminal#chain lightning#rapid strikes#snaking across the balance#defiant thunderbird
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Requested: Upon discovering Reid is struggling with an eating disorder, the Reader helps him to overcome it. Possible TW for eating disorders.
(I’m breaking my self-imposed tumblr ban to post this, as it’s National Eating Disorder Awareness week, and I wanted to get this up for the anon who requested it.)
She may not be a profiler, but she knows how to read people. Their body language, the words they do – or don’t – use. As an interview specialist for the Office of Victim Assistance, her job isn’t to explain what these behaviors mean, but to understand what they say about a person’s needs. She looks for the connections and builds bridges of empathy, meeting them halfway, and offering a helping hand. In the months since she’s been working with the BAU, she’s learned much about interacting with people. They learn from each other, and she comes to understand not only their victims, but the team she’s now a part of. Her friends.
And while she’s no profiler, she knows when something is up with one of her friends. Which is why it doesn’t take long for her to realize something isn’t right with Reid. It begins when he withdraws from them, turning down their offers to hang out less and less. He’s never been one for drinks after work, but now he doesn’t even want to meet her for Doctor Who marathons, or to go to their favorite coffee shop. At first she attributes it to work, he always says he’s busy, and she assumes that maybe he’s writing a book or getting another degree.
Maybe it’s just stress, she thinks, when the ever-present bags under his eyes grow darker, and he begins to look more and more tired. She hears Morgan ask him more than once if it’s nightmares that have him looking so exhausted. He only ever shrugs and mumbles a non-answer. She worries she’s losing her best friend to reasons she cannot name, the man she’s harbored a deep affection for for months.
Then his wardrobe changes. Gone are the tight shirts and fitted cardigans, replaced by baggy, oversized sweaters, and button-downs that are far too big for him. It’s this shift that makes it harder for her to tell he’s lost weight. It shows in his face, the hollows of his cheeks. In his wrists, when he rolls up his sleeves. Though he’s much taller than her, he suddenly seems so very small. Fragile, as though he might break under the weight of the world he seems to be carrying on his shoulders. His eyes no longer light up when he talks about things he loves, the excitement is gone from his voice. He seems altogether hollow, empty. Devoid of all that makes him Reid.
It worries her immensely, but he always dodges questions about his health. Garcia asks if he’s sick, after delving into his medical records but finding nothing conclusive. She sees him eat lunch when they’re in the office, he doesn’t miss days of work for doctor’s appointments, and JJ swears there’s no way it’s an addiction problem. Y/N takes the hint and decides not to pry into that.
On a case in Minnesota, they stay in an overbooked hotel, and she ends up sharing a room with Reid. After breakfast with the team, he excuses himself back to their room. They’re all supposed to head out to the precinct together, and when he doesn’t come back after ten minutes, she goes to check on him.
“Reid?” she calls, pushing the door shut behind her. There’s no answer. He’s not on the couch or either of the beds. The door to the bathroom is ajar, the light on. “Reid?” Immediately she knows that something is wrong. Rushing in, she finds him lying on the tile floor, and a cry leaves her throat of its own accord. Two fingers pressed to his throat, she can feel his pulse. Slow, but still there. “Please open your eyes, please please open your eyes.”
It takes a minute, but finally he does, staring up at her through hazy vision.
“Oh thank god,” she breathes. “Reid, you were unconscious. You need to see a doctor.” She reaches for the cell phone in her pocket, but his hand grabs her arm. While his grip is shaky, she doesn’t fight him.
“Please, don’t,” he rasps. The connection is clear. She knows, something isn’t right. Call it instinct. Intuition. Profiling.
“I’m going to need you to tell me what’s going on,” she says. “If you won’t see a doctor, I need you to at least be honest with me.”
Very slowly, he sits up. “I… I threw up. That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out. Um… I don’t think I hit my head hard or anything.”
“How long has this been going on?”
He looks away. “A while.” Pauses. Then, chokes out, “I don’t know how to stop!”
And she understands. She holds his hand as he sits there, sobbing. “I know what I’m doing, I know, but I can’t stop it anymore. I’m so scared, and I’m so tired. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t know how to keep living anymore.” They sit on the bathroom floor and she hugs him as he cries, the sharp blades of his shoulders easily felt through his shirt. After calling JJ to say that he’s sick and she’s going to keep an eye on him, she gets him some water and they sit on the bed and talk.
They talk through how bad it’s gotten and how he’s feeling. She speaks to him gently, softly, as though even her words might be too abrasive for him at this moment. He’s ashamed by what he admits, but she accepts it without judgment. It began, he says, with a diet and an exercise plan. Never has been secure about his looks or his body, and he wanted to try and get in shape, thinking maybe that would boost his confidence. At some point, that stopped being enough. Then the purging began. After restricting food for a certain amount of time, he would lose control and binge. The guilt and shame would lead to another purge. That’s all he really wanted.
Control.
If he could control his weight, his food, he could at least control something. In a job where he had to react to the choices of others, in a family where he’d been powerless to help his mother or stop his father from leaving, in a world where he’d constantly been bullied and beaten and hurt, he just needed a way to cope. Unfortunately, he’d turned to an eating disorder. Bulimia. It wasn’t a choice he’d made, but he no longer had control over it. It had control over him.
“Reid, I think you need to see a specialist,” she says, when he’s finished. “Believe me, you’re my friend, and I care about you. I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’m here to support you and listen to you, and do everything I can, but you need help. Help that I’m not qualified to provide.” When he tries to resist, she gets out her phone and pulls up facts to rattle off to him. Facts have a way of getting through to him.
Bulimia causes tooth decay, gum disease, tears in the esophagus, anemia, heart failure, and death. Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness, at 20%.
“I need you here,” she tells him. “I need you alive. Please let me help you.” Finally, he agrees. They schedule an appointment with a doctor together. When they get back to DC, she drives him there. A referral is made to a treatment team. She drives him to those appointments as well, sits in the lobby of the hospital with books. In the car, she plays his favorite songs until he begins to open up to her, nearly two months into the biweekly appointments. They talk endlessly, and in those conversations, she can see him coming back to her. The light begins to return to his eyes.
The dietician gives him meal plans, and in an effort to keep him accountable, she tries to make it fun. Several times a week, she comes over to cook for him – and tries to teach him what she can. They both learn that his natural skills in chemistry don’t translate well in the kitchen, and after he manages to burn even spaghetti, he decides to stick to tasks like cutting vegetables and measuring out ingredients. The repetitive motions are soothing, he tells her. Relaxing. They often end up laughing for one reason or another. She sits with him as he eats, talking to keep his mind off of the meals he struggles to get through. His therapist says he’s making improvements.
They experiment in social settings, and they experiment with food. When they browse through bookstores, he picks up cookbooks. She tries to show him how to do things like ice cupcakes the way the do in pastry shops, with a piping bag rather than a knife. They end up making a mess, and it doesn’t take long before the frosting is all over their hands, and he’s dabbing some on her nose as she reaches out to smear some on his cheek.
“It’s delicious,” he tells her, licking frosting from his thumb. That’s how life should be. Delicious. Filled with sweet memories and the sweetest sounds of laughter.
It takes months, but the weight he’s lost is gradually gained back. Reid no longer looks so ill and exhausted. He looks healthy again. Returned to the world of the living. He exists among the vibrant things of the world. He is one of those vibrant things. Her heart rejoices at each little victory. She keeps her promise, and is there every step of the way. As much as she can she encourages him and supports him. So easily does she fall into his life that she is taken aback when she realizes just how much time they spend together.
Even when they’re not at work, she’s with him. Driving him to and from appointments. Meeting him for coffee and movies. Cooking dinner with him. Eating dinner with him. It’s rather domestic, and no matter how hard she tries to push away that thought, it continues to return of its own volition. One night, after a particularly challenging dinner for him, he asks her to read to him.
“I just need something to take my mind off the way I’m feeling,” he says. “Would you stay? Please?” As if he had to ask. There is no hesitation in her agreement. She sits on the couch with a copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles and reads aloud. At one point, he wordlessly reclines, resting with his head in her lap. She stumbles over the sentence she’s reading, but quickly recovers. The words blur together, and she finds herself reading on autopilot, not really processing. Able to focus only on the fact that his head is in her lap, his eyes closed, the most relaxed expression on his face.
Her heart longs for him. She forces the longing away.
More time passes. He laughs more. When the team goes out together, he comes along. The others seem to notice this change, but decide not to bring it up. Reid appears to be grateful for that. The oversized sweaters slowly give way to the cardigans he used to wear. The man she knew returns, burning brighter than before. There is a confidence he has found through months and months of therapy that he did not possess previously.
To her quiet delight, when his appointments become weekly, then every other week, he still finds ways to spend time with her. Asking her to come over, asking her to go out. She is the one person he goes to when he’s struggling and needs support.
Finally, she asks, “Reid, why me? Why did you open up to me, and not to JJ or Morgan?”
Reid sets down the knife he’s been cutting carrots with, and his cheeks turn red. The answer wavers on the tip of his tongue as he decides how to respond. “Well… because you found me at the right time. But also because I – I’ve always, um, I’ve always liked you. Really liked you. And I know you’d never return that feeling, but I knew I could trust you. You’ve always treated me differently than the rest of the team has, and I needed someone like you.”
Her mouth falls open. “Wait, you – you like me?”
Evading her gaze, he turns back to the carrots. “Well, yeah. Of course I do. I’ve been meaning to say thank-you, by the way. I know this hasn’t been easy, but I really do appreciate all that you’ve done for me. I don’t know where I would be without you. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Spencer, I love you!” she blurts out. Because how does he not see it? “I’ve loved you from the moment we became friends.”
It’s his turn to look startled. “What? Wait, really?” She nods sheepishly, and a look of indignation crosses his face. “Why didn’t you tell me? All this time, and you never told me?”
Mirroring that gesture from so many months ago, she reaches for his hand, and he doesn’t pull away. “You were struggling. You need help. You needed space to heal, and I wanted to give you that space. What you needed then was a friend and a support system. The last thing I wanted to do was throw a relationship at you, My loving you wasn’t going to heal you, so I tried to love you the best way I could. I tried to be there for you. But I never stopped loving you.”
The vexation vanishes. “Thank you,” he says quietly. ‘Thank you for doing that.” He leans down and kisses her forehead. She then stretches up to kiss his lips. It feels like coming home, and in those tender moments, she knows that he is back. He is living and thriving and surviving, and while there will still be bad days and bad weeks, she is more than willing to face them with him. If it means he’ll be there, she’ll cross the world a hundred times over.
The stir-fry on the stove burns. Neither minds too much. He orders them takeout, something he wouldn’t have done before.
They sit and eat together, and it’s her heart that feels so full that night. When his mouth is on hers, their hands roaming freely, she touches him with such care. Not because he needs her to prove that he’s beautiful, but because she knows such beautiful things ought to be treated with such reverence.
With her, he lets down his walls. He lets her in, lets her see him as he his. And her life is so much more delicious with him in it.
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